"Nor did she invite her Cousin Paul to welcome her so warmly!" exclaimed Belinda, freeing herself quickly. "Your ear shall ring, Paul, if you do that again."
The sergeant-major laughed easily.
"Never wait to ask a pretty girl for such favors, my Carl. I have told you so before. You are too slow. 'When the orchard fruit hangs ripe over the hedge, pluck it and go thy way.' It is a good motto."
"No more of your mottoes, Paul," Belinda said with some sharpness. She was suddenly doubtful of this cousin, if not of the other. "Has Carl told you the position I am in?"
"Verily. So you have been aiding your French cousins? One of them—Leon Mandeville—is in one of our prison camps."
"Poor Leon!" sighed Belinda.
"And serves him right," growled Carl stoutly.
"Worry not, sweet Cousin. His whole nation will soon be in like condition."
"Yes," said the girl. "I see you call this Germany."
"We will never give up these provinces, once belonging to France," Paul returned quickly. "You see, we advance. Well! We will not quarrel, sweet Cousin. I will inform the Herr Lieutenant—the captain himself if need be—of our relationship. They know me," said Paul proudly.