The house which General von Waldenmeer had chosen for his headquarters at Falzenberg was a commodious one, built around an open court, where in summer a fountain played in the centre of a green grass plot. Tournay stepped to one of the windows and looked out upon the scene. The bronze figure in the fountain was draped with ice, and a great mound of snow filled the centre of the square, where the soldiers had cleared a passage for themselves. On the opposite side were the stables, and from the neighing and stamping of hoofs, Tournay judged more than a dozen horses were kept there. Lights flashed here and there as a subaltern or private moved about in the performance of the night's duties. The first thing which had struck Gaillard's eye on entering was a large canopied bed. This reminded him too forcibly of his fatigue to be resisted. He threw himself down upon it, boots and all, and was asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow. Von Waldenmeer stood in the centre of the room, slapping his hessians with a little flexible riding-whip. Tournay began to thank him for the courtesy he had shown them, when the latter stopped him in his abrupt way, saying:-- "I was watching the Marquis de Lacheville's face while he was denouncing Mademoiselle de Rochefort, and if ever I saw liar written upon a man's countenance it was on his then. I wish that he had lied when he accused you of being a colonel in the Republican army." And Colonel Karl strode toward the door impatiently. "Why should you have wished that?" demanded Tournay. "I am proud of my position." "Bah!" exclaimed the German, with his hand on the latch, "you should be in the Prussian army. It is an honor to serve in the army that was built up by the great Frederick. A man of your courage should not be content to serve among those Republican brigands. Good-night,"--and he disappeared rapidly through the door, slamming it behind him. Tournay roused Gaillard from his slumber. Both men were numb with fatigue. They had not taken off their clothes and slept in a bed since leaving Paris, and five minutes later they had thrown off their garments and sunk into a deep sleep in the large, white bed. For ten hours Tournay slept without moving. Then he yawned, threw out both arms, opened his eyes a little, and was preparing to sleep again when he became conscious that a man was standing beside the bed. Opening his heavy eyes a little further, he recognized Gaillard and said to him drowsily:-- "Well! What is it, Gaillard? Can't I get a few minutes' sleep undisturbed?" "The forenoon is half gone," replied Gaillard; "you've slept enough for one man." "You don't mean to say that it's morning already!" exclaimed Tournay, leaning on one elbow and blinking at the light. "Morning! The finest kind of a morning," replied Gaillard gayly. "I've been up these two hours. I gained permission to go to our carriage, and I have taken out a change of linen from our equipment in the boot."