"Good." Ruxton shook him by the hand. "I'll see to the other side of it in--my own way. Good-night, and thank you for coming." CHAPTER XXV THE SWEETNESS OF LIFE Von Salzinger was in a bad mood. He was feeling the effects of close personal contact with the authority which he had been bred to acknowledge, to obey. In the abstract he admitted the right of it. In practice he had little enough complaint. But in personal contact with the administrators of it the tyranny became maddening. For once in his life he realized how far short of a free-acting, free-thinking being he really was, in spite of the considerable rank of Captain-General to which he had risen. He possessed all the dominating personality of his race, all the hectoring brutality of his fellow-Prussians. He had no difficulty in submitting to a system which he found pleasure in enforcing upon those who acknowledged his authority, but to endure the personal meting out of such discipline by Von Berger was maddeningly irritating. He felt that his association with the all-powerful intimate of the Emperor was nearing the breaking-point, and when that point was reached he knew that whatever breaking took place he was bound to be the chief sufferer. His irritation lasted all day. He had received a number of definite instructions, as though he were some insignificant underling. Von Berger had dictated his requirements. And Von Salzinger was galled, galled and furious. Nor was it until Von Berger had taken his departure that he felt he could again breathe freely. Then had come a letter by hand. It was a letter for Vita, who remained in his charge. But though he read the letter, carefully steaming it open and re-sealing it so that detection was well-nigh impossible, and its contents proved satisfactory, still his temper underwent little betterment. The day wore on filled with the many duties which Von Berger had demanded of him, and which he almost automatically fulfilled. He saw many callers. He held many consultations. He delivered many instructions in that harsh autocratic manner which he resented in Von Berger. But it was not until after he had dined amply in the evening, and his gastronomic senses had been indulged with an amplitude of good wine and savory fare, that he began to forget the glacial frigidity of the man who had power to reduce his own dominating personality to the level of an anæmic lackey. After dinner he moved out onto the terrace which fronted the dining-room. It was a splendid night with a bright full moon. It was chilly but refreshing, and Von Salzinger, whatever else his habits might be, loved the fresh air. He paced the broad walk under the moon, and every now and then his eyes were turned upon a distant portion of the upper part of the mansion, where shone the lights of Vita's apartments. At last he seemed to have decided some momentous matter, and returned within the house and flung aside the heavy overcoat he was enveloped in.