"There is only one thing to do, Hamm," he said. He was deadly pale, but not a muscle of his face quivered. "You must warn your captain, and he will do what is prescribed in such cases."
Farnow turned calmly, and looked at the ornamental clock on his desk.
"One-forty—you must be quick."
The wachtmeister saluted and withdrew.
The lieutenant ran to the adjoining study, and asked to be connected with the Strasburg station. Ten minutes later the telephone bell rang, and he learnt that a volunteer of the 9th Hussars, in uniform, had reached the station at the last moment with a valise portmanteau and taken a first-class ticket to Russ-Hersbach.
"It's impossible," exclaimed Farnow, throwing himself on to the sofa; "there must be some mistake Russ-Hersbach is almost on the frontier. Jean would not desert—he is in love; he must be at Alsheim—he must at least have wanted to see Odile again. I must find out."
"Hermann," he called, rapping with his knuckles on the mahogany table.
The orderly, a stolid German, opened the door.
"Saddle my horse and yours immediately."
Farnow was soon ready; he hastened downstairs, found the horses waiting, crossed Strasburg, and once past the fortifications, spurred his horse to a sharp trot.