"And for my comrade, Mr. Darrel, and ten recruits," said Guild quietly.
"And for his comrade, Mr. Darrel, and ten recruits," repeated von Reiter in a failing voice. But he was smiling.
"And—for me!" said Karen.
Von Reiter's eyes had almost closed; he opened them again, heavily, as she spoke. Karen bent over him:
"Kurt, I must go. I can not remain here now. Besides—I want—my—husband."
"Think well," he said drowsily. "Think diligently—at this moment—solemn—supreme—" He raised himself a little, then relapsed: "God," he murmured, "what luck to meet with under your own roof!..." And, to the hussar: "Write it that Miss Karen Girard goes also—if she so desires."
There was a silence. The hussar scribbled on the stamped paper in his tablets. After he had finished he laid the tablets and the fountain pen on von Reiter's knees. Very slowly the latter affixed his signature.
He said to the hussar: "I am ill. Go to Trois Fontaines and bring me a medical officer."
When the hussar had gone and when the whirr of the automobile had died away down the drive, Guild aided the hurt man to a sofa and Karen brought pillows from a bedroom.
He was very thirsty, too, and she gave him water continually. At intervals there were slight signs of mental wandering, perhaps symptoms of pneumonia, from his crushed ribs, for he coughed a great deal and the fever already reddened his blond skin. But in the main his mind seemed to be clear. He opened his light-blue eyes and glanced at Guild continually.