"Yes, and no; I believe George has undoubtedly been fascinated by Gloria. With her beauty, high spirit, and fearless temperament, she was bound to attract him. Fresh from a recent disappointment--and lacking as he is at all times in all sense of proportion--he is quite capable of demanding her hand in marriage. But Gloria,--though she would like him well enough as a friend,--would not dream of stultifying herself by marrying a plain American; still less would she stoop to the depths Von Hügelweiler hinted at." "I am sorry about it all," said Saunders. "Nervy, with all his faults, is a lovable sort of scoundrel, and he had a pretty severe knock over _l'affaire Angela_. If Gloria is fooling him for her own purposes--as seems more than certain--it will leave him, spiritually and mentally, in a condition of pulp." "You mean----" "Oh, not exactly; for one thing, he's mad already. He's like a man on a free-wheel bicycle without a brake--all right on the level, but in the deuce of a fix if he begins to go downhill." Mrs. Saunders looked thoughtful. "There is a possibility that he may never live to be disillusioned," she said. "He is said to be accompanying this force against us, and he is not the sort of person to cultivate the art of taking cover. However, things will be settled one way or the other soon." "Very soon," Saunders agreed. "Meyer's scouts report that the enemy encamped last night at Wallen; and they don't waste time there. Six thousand able-bodied men in a bracing climate eat a good deal--and Wallen is a small place with a limited supply of hams and maize. They will be here to-day or to-morrow." Mrs. Saunders devoted her attention to the omelette which furnished their morning meal. She was a lady who had made a point of hiding her emotions, and the near prospect of her husband being in danger necessitated a strong effort of control. It was some minutes before she spoke again. "What are you going to do this morning?" she asked at length. "I should 'curl,' if I were you. You haven't 'sent down' a 'stone' for weeks, and I think a respite from your military preoccupations would do you good." Saunders sighed regretfully, and stretched himself. "There is a competition to-day," he replied; "Major Flannel's Cup, and I am not in for it. I may watch for a bit, but things are too critical now to admit of much leisure. You see, I've been told off to hold the Marienkastel, and our good friends the enemy may send us their visiting-cards at any minute." "And can you hold the Marienkastel?" asked Mrs. Saunders. Saunders smiled. "I can hold it for a couple of hours," he replied, "which is all that Meyer requires of me. We are to put as many of the enemy out of action as we can, and then yield possession with a bad grace. After that we have a little surprise for them: a couple of concealed mortars, which will blow the historic old fabric and those inside it into several thousand fragments."