Weber looked puzzled, and then his eyes lightened.
"Ah, I know what you mean!" he exclaimed. "The one in which we took that
flight with Carstairs the Englishman and Wharton the American. It
belonged to a prince, without doubt, yes. But no, it couldn't have been
Prince Karl of Auersperg who owned the machine."
"I'm not so sure. I've an intuition that it is he. Besides, he looks
like just the kind of prince from whom I'd like to take his best
automobile, also everything else good that he might happen to have. I
shall feel much disappointed if this proves not to be our prince."
"You Americans are such democrats."
"I don't go so far as to say a man is necessarily bad because of his
high rank, but as I reminded you a little while ago, there are princes
and princes. The ancient house of Auersperg as it walks up and down,
indicating its conviction of its own superiority to everything else on
earth, does not please me."
"The Uhlans are coming back!" exclaimed Weber in tones of excitement.
"And that's von Boehlen at their head! I'd know his figure as far as I
could see it! And they've had a brush, too! Look at the empty saddles
and the wounded men! As sure as we live they've run into the French
cavalry and then they've run out again!"
The Uhlans were returning at a gallop, and the German officers of high
rank were crowding forward to meet them. It was obvious to every one
that they had received a terrible handling, but John knew that von
Boehlen was not a man to come at a panicky gallop.
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