"The Wolfburgh of Charlemagne's day was
besieged by him, and another entertained St. Louis and
all his crusaders within the walls." Jean's voice rose shrilly
and her eyes glowed. She leaned forward, looking eagerly
across the fields. "The prince told us that the Schloss
of his race had for centuries been one of the great
fortresses of Christendom. And here it is! Now we shall
see--we shall see!"
The car stopped. The guard opened the door and Miss
Vance and Lucy suddenly found themselves swept by Jean on
to the platform, while the little train rumbled on down
the valley. Miss Vance cried out in dismay.
"Never mind. There will be another train in a half
hour," said Jean. "Here is the Schloss," pointing to a
pepper-box tower neatly whitewashed, which rose out of a
huge mass of broken stone. "And here, I suppose, is the
capital of the kingdom over which the Wolfburghs now
reign feudal lords?"
Clara found herself against her will looking curiously at
the forge, the dirty shop, the tiny bier-halle, and a
half a dozen huts, out of which swarmed a few old women
and children.
"Where are the men of this village?" Jean demanded of the
station master, a stout old man with a pipe in his mouth.
"Gone to America, for the most part," he said, with a
shrug.
Lucy came up hastily, an angry glitter in her soft eyes.
"You have no right to make me play the spy in this way!"
she said haughtily, and going into the little station sat
down with her back to the door.
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