The two men acknowledged the presentation, and their eyes met in a steady, keen regard. Then the Prince went on—
"What is it, this light? Have your engineers no thoughts in their heads but beer, or is it that they, like the asses, have grown long ears? Come, we will go at once. You can dismiss your ceremonial," he went on, indicating the group of officers. "I have no time for that. I am an engineer, as is my nephew. Besides, I must leave here within the hour. I must be in Berlin within two days and return to my works first. So——"
"Certainly, Excellency," replied the Captain-General, unbending before the man whom he believed through his genius to be the most powerful influence in the country at the moment. "But I think the fault is not with us—this time. No doubt Herr von Bersac will be able to set the matter right. But an hour is short."
"Ach, so," cried the Prince, with irritation. "Then do not delay. Lead us to the—place."
Herr von Bersac, watching the scene with his dreamy eyes, noted the attitude of the two men towards each other. His uncle's manner was something of a surprise to him. Nor could he help but realize the other's almost slavish deference, as, in response to the older man's order, he hastily moved off shorewards.
The Governor was a typical Teuton. The broad, square back of his head surmounted a thick, fleshy neck. His blue eyes were deeply set in puffy sockets. His cheeks were full, and the chin, below his bristling moustache, was square and strong. His whole appearance, in his brilliant uniform, was of cubist inspiration, and, in spite of his high rank, and the suggestion of grey about the temples of his close-cropped head, he could not have been more than midway between thirty and forty. These things Herr von Bersac noted with almost unnecessary interest in spite of his abstracted air.
But Herr von Bersac had not had a monopoly of observation. While the Prince had been talking the military governor's small, quick eyes had not been idle. He had taken the nephew's measure to the last inch of his great height. Such observation was his habit as well as his duty. His position in the world's greatest secret arsenal demanded that every visitor must be regarded as a possible enemy until a due examination of his credentials proved him otherwise.
The Prince talked as they made their way to an execrable road by crossing a narrow-gauge railway. They skirted piles of debris almost as high as some of the adjoining buildings. And the general impression left was one of carelessness for anything but the work going on.
"This place is the worst constructed in the world," he declared, as he stubbed a toe against a pile of broken concrete. "There is no system in it. Where is the system for which we Germans are noted? It is gone, with many other things, since the war. We think so hard for the downfall of our enemies that we have no time for all that system which has made our people the greatest in the world. Ach! I hate Borga. I hate it more every time I make my visit."
Von Salzinger laughed in his heavy way.