"We pressed them closely," answered the Captain, "and at first so eager was their retreat that they abandoned all their guns one after another. Further away they rallied, and though they continued to retreat, they easily held us at bay, and went off at their own pace." "Do you think they mean coming back?" asked Karl. "No, sire. When we got orders to return they were six or seven kilometres beyond Riefinsdorf; and though we waited and watched them for at least half an hour, they continued to increase the distance, till they were lost to sight in the gloom and the snow." "They're not the right stuff, those Weidenbruckers," said Von Bilderbaum. "They can only play a winning game. I don't think we shall see their faces again this winter." "But what of Von Hügelweiler?" demanded Meyer. "He was in command of the pursuit. Has he been hit by the enemy?" "No, sir." "Then why in heaven's name does he not return with you?" persisted the Commander-in-Chief. "Has he been loyal for long enough to one side? Or does he, like Cato, prefer to espouse the losing side?" Captain Lexa hesitated. "I think he was mad," he said at length. "When your _aide_ brought the order of recall, Captain Hügelweiler swore that he had been sent to pursue and would continue to pursue as long as his legs carried his body, and his arms a rifle. The _aide_ backed his orders with the King's name, but Hügelweiler harangued his men and bade all such as loved the good game of war follow him to the bitter end. An impossible position was created, and the _aide-de-camp_ ordered Von Hügelweiler's arrest. Before, however, the order could be put into execution, the mutinous captain was ski-ing down a steep snow slope in the direction of the enemy." "You should have fired on him," said Bilderbaum. "I gave the order, sir, but the men hesitated. Some of them had served with him earlier in the day, when he had displayed the most reckless courage. Besides, his refusal to halt, seeming rather an excess of gallantry than an act of mutiny, touched their imagination, and the few shots that rang out left him unscathed. Then the _aide-de-camp_, losing his patience, snatched a rifle from one of my units, knelt down in the snow, and brought down the Captain with a well-directed shot." "And was he killed?" asked Saunders not unfeelingly. "I think so. If not, he is dead by now, for he was badly hit, and the frost does not spare a man when he is bleeding from an open wound."