The Guns of Europe | Page 5

earth."
Mr. Anson smiled. He had dined well, and he was at peace with the
earth.
"Names mean little," he said indulgently.
John did not reply, but his under jaw thrust for ward in a pugnacious
manner, startlingly like that of the Prussian. The officer, although no
word had passed between them, nor even a glance of real hostility had
aroused a stubborn antagonism, increased by the obvious awe of Herr
Simmering and the deference paid to him by the whole establishment
of the hotel.
He saw Captain von Boehlen go out, and drawn by a vague resolve he
excused himself, abandoning Mr. Anson who was still trifling
pleasantly with the fruit, and also left the dining-room. He saw the
captain receive his helmet from an obsequious waiter, put it on his head

and walk into the parlor, his heavy boots as usual clanking upon the
polished floor. In the final analysis it was this very act of keeping his
helmet on, no matter where he was, that repelled young Scott and
aroused his keen enmity.
John went to the smoking-room. Von Boehlen lingered a moment or
two in the parlor, and then took his way also down the narrow passage
to the smok ing-room. It was perhaps a part of the American's vague
plan that he should decide suddenly to go by the same way to the parlor.
Hence it was inevitable that they should meet if Captain von Boehlen
kept his course an invariable one with him in the very center of the hall.
John liked the center of the hall, too, particularly on that day. He was
tall and strong and he knew that he would have the advantage of
readiness, which everybody said was the cardinal vir tue of the Prussian
army.
Just before they reached the point of contact the Prussian started back
with a muttered oath of sur prise and annoyance. His hand flew to the
hilt of his sword, and then came away again. John watching him closely
was sure that hand and hilt would not have parted company so readily
had it been a German civilian who was claiming with Captain Rudolf
von Boehlen an equal share of the way.
But John saw the angry flash in the eyes of the Prussian die suddenly
like a light put out by a puff of wind, and the compressed line of the
lips relax. He knew that it was not the result of innate feeling, but of a
mental effort made by von Boehlen, and he surmised that the fact of his
being a foreigner had all to do with it. Yet he waited for the other to
apologize first.
"Pardon," said the captain, "it is somewhat dark here, and as I was
absorbed in thought I did not no tice you."
His English was excellent and his manner polite enough. John could do
nothing less than respond in kind.
"It was perhaps my fault more than yours," he said.

The face of Captain von Boehlen relaxed yet further into a smile.
"You are an American," he said, "a member of an amiable race, our
welcome guests in Europe. What could our hotels and museums do
without you?"
When he smiled he showed splendid white teeth, sharp and powerful.
His manner, too, had become compelling. John could not now deny its
charm. Perhaps his first estimate of Captain von Boehlen had been
wrong.
"It is true that we come in shoals," he responded. "Sometimes I'm not
sure whether we're welcome to the general population."
"Oh, yes, you are. The Americans are the spoiled children of Europe."
"At least we are the children of Europe. The people on both sides of the
Atlantic are apt to forget that. We're transplanted Europeans. The
Indians are the only people of the original American stock."
"But you are not Europeans. One can always tell the difference. You
speak English, but you are not English. I should never take an
American for an Englishman."
"But our basis is British. Despite all the infusions of other bloods, and
they've been large, Great Britain is our mother country. I feel it
myself."
Von Boehlen smiled tranquilly.
"Great Britain has always been your chief enemy," he said. "You have
been at war with her twice, and in your civil war, when you were in
dire straits her predominant classes not only wished for your
destruction, but did what they could to achieve it."
"Old deeds," said John. "The bad things of fifty or a hundred years ago
are dead and buried."
But the Prussian would not have it so. Germany, he said, was the chief

friend of America. Their peo ples, he insisted, were united not only by
a tie of blood, but by points of view, similar in so many important cases.
He seemed