"Good! good!" Helen cried, clapping her hands. "It was never done better in the movies! Good! goo----" The word was unfinished, her jaw dropping aghast with the seriousness of the situation. When von Eichborn came to and realised what had happened, that he had been brutally knocked down by a civilian, he reached for his revolver. There was murder in his little eyes. But Phil had already taken the revolver out of its holster. "You have struck a Prussian officer on duty!" he stammered as he got to his feet. "That is death, as you will find out as soon as I can bring some men." He was going past Phil out of the door; but Phil barred the way. "Wait!" And von Eichborn had to wait. The position was strange. Here was the darling of Berlin salons and the aide of the General who commanded a division of troops which possessed the land balked by a mere civilian, a mere tourist; neither being armed. It was humiliating, disgusting, shameful. Von Eichborn could not try to force his way to the door for fear that he might be knocked down again. "Yes, wait and consider," Phil added. "Let's not do anything rash, but think it over. Now----" "Phil, don't!" Helen broke in wildly. "You, an American, don't realise. He can have you shot for striking him." "After he struck me?" "That has nothing to do with it!" put in von Eichborn hoarsely. "I'm an officer!" "It's all true what he says!" said Helen. There was no banter of melodrama about her now. The scene had become tensely real and horrible. "But it does not stand to reason! It's----" "Don't smile in that way!" she pleaded. "We'll lock him in a closet and I'll stand guard. That will give you time to run for it--or some other plan--anything so they will not get you--please, please!" "Very moving picture-ish that, Helen," he said. "No. I'll go with von Eichborn to see his General and explain that an officer invading a private house struck me and I struck him back, that being a custom of my country and I being ignorant of the customs of foreign countries. Come!" As he led the way out of doors he added to von Eichborn: "Some men in your position might want to forget the whole experience." "Not that you struck me when in uniform! Never!" von Eichborn said. "My uncle will punish that. You will be shot, as Belgians were for the same offence." Helen followed them. Henriette was already in the grounds, having come down from her room by the other stairway. Thus von Stein, alighting from his car, had the whole group before him as he approached. At sight of him, von Eichborn murmured something under his breath and clicked his heels together as he saluted. "So there you are, you scoundrel!" called out the General. Von Eichborn knew how to deal with the rage of an uncle who had no son of his own. "Yes, sir," he said humbly. "I came to interrogate these two young women about this man's case." "Without leave!" put in von Stein sternly.