"
"Then you are not happy with your lot?"
"Is any one, Herr?"--quietly. "And who might you be, and what might you
be doing here in Dreiberg, riding with the grand duke?"
"I am the American consul."
Gretchen took a step back.
"Oh, it is nothing that will bite you," he added.
"But perhaps I have been disrespectful!"
"Pray, how?"
Gretchen found that she had no definite explanation to offer.
"What did Colonel Wallenstein say to you?"
"Nothing of importance. I am used to it. I am perfectly able to take
care of myself," she answered.
"But he annoyed you."
"That is true," she admitted.
"What did the policeman say?"
"What would he say to a goose-girl?"
"Shall I speak to him?"
"Would it really do any good?"--skeptically.
"It might. The duke is friendly toward me, and I am certain he would not
tolerate such conduct in his police."
"You would only make enemies for me; insolence would become persecution.
I know. Yet, I thank you, Herr--"
"Carmichael. Now, listen, Gretchen; if at any time you are in trouble,
you will find me at the Grand Hotel or at the consulate next door to the
Black Eagle."
"I shall remember. Sometimes I work in the Black Eagle." And
recollection rose in her mind of the old man who had given her the gold
piece.
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