"We are committed to it," he said. Then: "I wonder."
Ruxton sprang to his feet.
"I am glad—glad."
Then he moved round and stood gazing out through the leaded window, and his thoughts went back to the beautiful creature who on that one memorable night upon his beloved Yorkshire cliffs had first opened the doors of Life to him.
CHAPTER XII
KUHLHAFEN
The old fortress of Kuhlhafen stands a milestone on the path of Time. Its vast walls have endured and survived the ravages of a thousand storms driving in off the sea. Its gloomy might still rears itself silhouetted against the grey skies of the Baltic upon its lofty setting of wood-clad hills. Its dull, unlit eyes still gaze down upon the broad waters of the shallow, silted harbor from which it takes its name. And with it all it haunts the primitive mind of the simple fisher folk beneath its shadows with the grim romance of the days of martial barbarity which have endured within its walls.
No one would have associated modern significance with this survival of the ages. Yet it was sedulously kept in repair. It still retained its splendid furnishings, and all the relics of its antiquity. Furthermore, all the invention of modern days had been applied to add to its convenience. And it was solicitously cared for by the retainers of the princely house to which it belonged.
The peasants of Kuhlhafen knew every detail of its history. Its martial story was part of their lives. Oh, yes. The information was handed down from father to son, and was told with all that care for fantastic detail in which the primitive mind never fails to indulge itself.