He looked at her again and there was something in his countenance she did not understand.
"Belinda," he said, "you evidently do not know what has happened."
"What is it? Not to Fra—to the flying-man?"
"Ach! all you think of is this flying-man," muttered Paul. "No. It is something of considerable more moment. You are an American, you say. We can be no longer friends, for our countries—yours and mine, sweet Cousin—are at war!"
"Oh, Paul!"
"So I have just learned. It is not our Kaiser who makes this war; it is your President. War was declared by the United States yesterday. So, do you expect me still to be your friend?"
She could not answer him. Something in her throat choked back any word she might have uttered. Her cousins! Not only Paul, but Carl!—all her mothers relatives in Germany—were now actually arrayed against her if she was an American! She held out her arms to her cousin.
The young man took her hand and with no further word led her down a corridor, across a great and almost bare room, and there knocked upon a door.
"Come in," said a voice in German that made Belinda's heart leap. She looked again at Paul, her gratitude in her eyes.
"This much I may do for you, Cousin Belinda," he whispered. He raised her hand to his lips. But she impulsively put both arms about his neck for a moment and her warm lips left their impress on his brow.