"We Germans," he said drily, "care nothing for what Europe may think of us or say about us. Perhaps we are vandals, Goths, Huns--whatever you call them. Perhaps we are barbarians. I think we _are_! For we mean to scour the old world clean of its rottenness--cauterize it, cut out the old sores of a worn-out civilization, scrape its surface clean of the parasite nations. ... And, if _fire_ be necessary to burn out the last traces--" His light blue eyes glimmered a very reflection of the word--"then let fire pass. It has passed, before--God's Angel of the Flaming Sword has returned again to lead us! What is a cathedral or two--or pictures or foolish statues--or a million lives? Yes, if you choose, we are barbarians. And we intend to plow under the accumulated decay of the whole world, and burn up its rubbish and found our new world on virgin earth. Yes, we _are_ barbarians. And our Emperor is a barbarian. And God, who creates with one hand and destroys with the other--God--autocrat of material creation, inexorable Over-Lord of ultimate material annihilation, is the greatest barbarian of all! Under His orders we are moving. In His name we annihilate! Amen!" A dead silence ensued. And after it had lasted a little while the tall Prussian lifted his hand absently to his mustache and touched it caressingly. "I am satisfied, whatever your opinion may be of me or of my people, that you will return if you say you will, successful or otherwise. I promise you immunity if you return with my daughter; I promise you a wall and a file of men if you return unsuccessful. But, in either event, I am satisfied that you will return. Will you go?" "Yes," said Guild, thoughtfully. They stood for a moment longer, the young man gazing absently out of the window toward the menacing smoke pall which was increasing above Yslemont. "You promise not to burn the remainder of the village?" he asked, turning to look at von Reiter. "I promise not to burn it if you keep your promise." "I'll try.... And the Burgomaster, notary, magistrate, and the others are to be released?" "If you do what I ask." "Very well. It's worth trying for. Give me my credentials." "You need no written ones. Letters are unsafe. You will go to my daughter, who has leased a small cottage at Westheath. You will say to her that you come from me; that _the question which she was to decide on the first of November must be decided sooner_, and that when she arrives at Rehthal in Silesia she is to telegraph me through the General Staff of her arrival. If I can obtain leave to go to Silesia I shall do so. If not, I shall telegraph my instructions to her." "Will that be sufficient for your daughter to place her confidence in a man absolutely strange to her and accompany that man on a journey of several days?" asked Guild, slightly astonished. "Not quite sufficient," said von Reiter, his dry, blond visage slightly relaxing.