"Who the devil are you that tear through these woods like this?" demanded the German, examining the abrasure on the leader's leg. "Come, give account of yourselves." The two riders had remounted and seemed anxious to be off.
"We are bound for Hagenhof," replied one of them. "We are in a great hurry, and regret this accident, for which we are entirely to blame. Name the amount which you think a proper compensation for your injured horse and broken harness and we will gladly pay it."
He had spoken in German and in the easy, careless manner of one who deemed the matter too trivial to be the cause of any controversy.
"You are French!" exclaimed the lieutenant, looking at the party closely.
"We are," replied the man who had spoken before.
"You must accompany me to Falzenberg," said the German officer, "and interview the general there."
"What does he say?" inquired the second Frenchman of his companion.
"Come, you had best not chatter your French before me," put in the surly lieutenant, as one of the Frenchmen proceeded to interpret to the other. "You may be spies for all I know, but that we shall find out when we get to Falzenberg."
The dark eyes of the second Frenchman looked inquiringly at his comrade. The other again translated the officer's words.
"We are most unfortunate, Gaillard, to have fallen in with this imbecile," was the reply.