style="font-size:15px;"> "Well, sir," repeated the general. "I have said that there is no reason why the hostages taken at Yslemont should not be turned over to the squad of execution outside there in the hallway."
"I heard you say it."
The general looked at him curiously. "You have nothing to say?"
"No."
"Not for yourself?"
"No."
"As a matter of fact, Mr. Guild, what was your ultimate object in passing through Yslemont?"
"I have already told you that I had intended to make a foot tour through the Three Ardennes."
"Had intended?"
"Yes."
"Was that still your intention when you were made prisoner?"
After a moment's hesitation: "No," said Guild in a low voice.
"You altered your plan?"
"Yes."
"You decided to employ your vacation otherwise?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"I decided to enlist," said Guild. He was very white, now.
"Enlist?"
"Yes."
"In the British army?"
"The Belgian."
"Oh! So now you do not remind me that, as an American, you claim exemption from the execution of the sentence?"
"I have said enough," replied Guild. A slight colour showed over his cheek-bones.
"If I shoot the Burgomaster and the notary and the others in there, ought I to let you go – on your own representations?"
"I have said enough," repeated Guild.
"Oh! So you refuse to plead any particular exemption on account of your nationality?"
No answer.
"And you, by your silence, permit yourself to be implicated in the responsibility of your fellow-hostages?"
No reply.
"Why? – Mr. Guild. Is it, perhaps, after all because you are not an American in the strictest sense of that often misused term?"
There was no response.
"You were born in America?"
"Yes."
"Your father, perhaps, was born there?"
"Yes."
"Oh! And his father?"
"No."
"Oh! You are, I see, quite candid, Mr. Guild."
"Yes, when necessary."
"I see. Very well, then. Where do you get your Christian name, Kervyn? Is it an American name?"
"No."
"The name, Guild – is that an American name?"
"Yes."
"But —is it your name?"
"Yes."
"Was it, by chance, ever spelled a little differently – in times gone by, Mr. Guild?"
"Yes."
"Oh! And how, in times gone by, was it spelled by your – grandfather?"
Guild looked him calmly in the eyes. "It was spelled Gueldres," he said.
"I see, I see. That is interesting. Gueldres, Kervyn Gueldres. Why, it sounds almost Belgian. Let me see – if I remember – there was such a family inscribed in the Book of Gold. There was even a Kervyn of Gueldres – a count, was he not? – Comte d'Yvoir – Count of Yvoir, Hastière, and Lesse. Was he not – this Kervyn of Gueldres, many, many years ago?"
"I congratulate General von Reiter on his memory for such unimportant history as that of Belgium," said Guild, reddening.
"Oh, we Germans are studious in our youth – and thorough. Nothing is too unimportant to ignore and" – he smiled grimly – "nothing is too vast for us to undertake – and accomplish."
He lifted his hand to his mustache again. "Mr. Guild," he said, "at the elections in America you – ah – vote of course?"
"No."
"What?"
Guild remained silent.
The general, stroking his mustache, said pleasantly: "The Belgian nobility always interested me; it is so exclusive and there are so few families of the classe noble. Except for those ten families who are independent of Court favour – like the Croys and De Lignes – there seem to be only about thirty families who possess the privileges of the Golden Book. Is this not so?"
"General von Reiter appears to know."
The general seemed gratified at this corroboration of his own memory. "And," he went on amiably, "this Belgian nobility is a real nobility. Once of it, always a part of it. And, too, its code is so rigid, so inexorably precise that it seems almost Prussian. For example, the code of the Belgian aristocracy permits none of its members to go into any commercial business, any trade – even forbids an entry into high finance. Only the Church and Army are open to it; and in the Army only the two Guides regiments and the Lancers are permitted to young men of the aristocracy." He gazed almost mildly at the young man: "You are in business, you tell me?"
"Yes."
"Oh! Then of course you have never been a soldier."
Guild was silent.
"Have you ever served in the army?"
"Yes."
"Really! In what American regiment have you served?"
"In a militia regiment of cavalry – the 1st New York."
"How interesting. And – you have never served in the regular army?"
"N – " but Guild hesitated.
General von Reiter watched him intently.
"Did you reply in the negative, Mr. Guild?"
"No, I did not reply at all."
"Oh! Then would you be good enough to reply?"
"If – you insist."
"I insist."
"Very well," said Guild, reddening, "then I have served in the – Belgian army."
The general nodded without surprise:
