It was possibly not founded upon any suspicion of herself, but the infirmier was a Frenchman and had been an attendant at the station under the former administration. The Prussian military mind overlooks nothing. The lame man might have been left behind to spy upon the conquerors.
Erard was used to helping Belinda when she did dressings of importance, and if she insisted they sent him to her, as Jacob could not do everything. She asked a passing private to send her Corporal Baum, her cousin; but Sergeant-major Genau appeared instead.
"How now, Cousin Belinda?" he greeted her gaily. "It strikes me that I have not seen you for some time and that Carl is getting an advantage over me. It will never do—never do at all! I'll never allow another man—let alone a dumme Esel—get the inside track of me with any pretty Fräulein."
"I wish you would stop your nonsense, Paul," returned the girl scornfully. "Will you never grow up?"
"Indeed, ancient dame? So you look upon me as unfledged, do you? Carl is that."
"And you are quite as bad—quite," she declared. "Remember, at least, that we are cousins. If these others hear you flout me so they can have no respect for me. Your comrades, I mean."
"Ach! you wrong me, sweet Cousin."
"No more, Paul. Find me my little infirmier, Erard. I must have somebody who knows how to assist at a dressing. You are wasting my time."
"Ah, Belinda, why are you so cross?" cried the sergeant-major, with a pleading note in his voice. "Why so harsh with one who admires you so?"
"Tut, tut, Paul! Save your love making for village maidens," Belinda told him tartly. "Nor are we rehearsing a scene from a comic opera. This is serious business, this hospital work——"