[Pg 2]

Bloem’s train was to leave in an hour, and it was the consciousness of this that kept them silent until their waiter came to tell them that their coffee was served. As they followed him through the hall, a tall man in the uniform of a captain of infantry entered from the street. His eyes brightened as he caught sight of Bloem.

“Ach, Hermann!” he cried.

Bloem, turning, stopped an instant for a burlesque salute, then threw himself into the other’s arms. A moment later, he was dragging him forward to introduce him to Stewart.

“My cousin,” he cried, “Ritter Bloem, a soldier as you see—a great fire-eater! Cousin, this is my friend, Dr. Bradford Stewart, whom I had the good fortune to meet at Vienna.”

“I am pleased to know you, sir,” said the captain, shaking hands and speaking excellent English.

[Pg 3]

[Pg 3]

“You must join us,” Bloem interposed. “We are just going to have coffee on the terrace. Come,” and he caught the other by the arm.

But the captain shook his head.

“No, I cannot come,” he said; “really I cannot, much as I should like to do so. Dr. Stewart,” he added, a little hesitatingly, “I trust you will not think me discourteous if I take my cousin aside for a moment.”

“Certainly not,” Stewart assured him.

“I will join you on the terrace,” said Bloem, and Stewart, nodding good-by to the captain, followed the waiter, who had stood by during this exchange of greetings, and now led the way to a little table at one corner of the broad balcony looking out over the square.

“Shall I pour the coffee, sir?” he asked, as Stewart sat down.

“No; I will wait for my companion,” and, as the waiter bowed and stepped back, Stewart leaned forward with a deep breath of admiration.

Below him lay the green level of the Domhof, its close-clipped trees outlined stiffly against the lights behind them. Beyond rose the choir of the great cathedral, with its fretted pinnacles, and flying buttresses,[Pg 4] and towering roof. By day, he had found its exterior somewhat cold and bare and formal, lacking somehow the subtle spirit of true Gothic; but nothing could be more beautiful than it 

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