A clerk, native to Ehrenstein, was writing at a table.  At a desk by the window sat Carmichael, deep in a volume of Dumas.  No one ever hurried here; no one ever had palpitation of the heart over business.  The clerk lifted his head.

“Mr. Carmichael?” said Grumbach in English.

The clerk indicated with his pen toward the individual by the window.  Carmichael read on.  Grumbach had assimilated some Americanisms.  He went boldly over and seated himself in the chair at the side of the desk.  With a sigh Carmichael left Porthos in the grotto of Locmaria.

“I am Mr. Grumbach.  I spoke to you this morning about my passports.  Will you kindly look them over?”

Carmichael took the papers, frowning slightly.  Grumbach laid his derby on his knees.  The consul went over the papers, viseed them, and handed them to their owner.

“You will have no trouble going about with those,” Carmichael said listlessly.  “How long will you be in Dreiberg?”

“I do not know,” said Grumbach truthfully.

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

“There is only one thing,” answered Grumbach, “but you may object, and I shall not blame you if you do.  It will be a great favor.”

“What do you wish?” more listlessly.

“An invitation to the military ball at the palace, after the maneuvers,” quietly.

Carmichael sat up.  He had not expected so large an order as this.

“I am afraid you are asking something impossible for me to obtain,” he replied coldly, thumbing the leaves of his book.

“Ah, Mr. Carmichael, it is very important that I should be there.”

“Explain.”

“I can give you no explanations.  I wish to attend this ball.  I do not care to meet the grand duke or any one else.  Put me in the gallery where I shall not be noticed.  That is all I ask of you.”

“That might be done.  But you have roused my curiosity.  Your request is out of the ordinary.  You have some purpose?”

“A perfectly harmless one,” said Grumbach, mopping his forehead.

This movement brought Carmichael’s eye to the scar.  Grumbach acknowledged the stare by running his finger along the subject.

“I came near passing in my checks the day I got that,” he volunteered.  “Everybody looks at it when I take off my hat.  I’ve tried tonics, but the hair won’t grow there.”

“Where did you get it?”

“At Gettysburg.”

“Gettysburg?” with a lively facial change.  “You were in the war?”

“All through it.”

Carmichael was no longer indifferent.  He gave his hand.

“I’ve got a few scars myself.  What regiment?”

“The —­th cavalry, New York.”

“What troop?” with growing excitement.

“C troop.”

“I was captain of B troop in the same regiment.  Hurrah!  Work’s over for the day.  Come along with me, Grumbach, and we’ll talk it over down-stairs in the Black Eagle.  You’re a godsend.  C troop!  Hanged if the world doesn’t move things about oddly.  I was in the hospital myself after Gettysburg; a ball in the leg.  And I’ve rheumatism even now when a damp spell comes.”