THEY MARCHED Barney before the staff where he urged his American nationality, pointing to his credentials and passes in support of his contention.
The general before whom he had been brought shrugged his shoulders. "They are all Americans as soon as they are caught," he said; "but why did you not claim to be Prince Peter of Blentz? You have his passes as well. How can you expect us to believe your story when you have in your pos-session passes for different men?
"We have every respect for our friends the Americans. Iwould even stretch a point rather than chance harming an American; but you will admit that the evidence is all against you. You were found in the very building where Drontoff was known to stay while in Burgova. The young woman whose mother keeps the place directed our officer to your room, and you tried to escape, which I do not think that an innocent American would have done.
"However, as I have said, I will go to almost any length rather than chance a mistake in the case of one who from his appearance might pass more readily for an American than a Serbian. I have sent for Prince Peter of Blentz. If you can satisfactorily explain to him how you chance to be in possession of military passes bearing his name I shall be very glad to give you the benefit of every other doubt."Peter of Blentz. Send for Peter of Blentz! Barney won-dered just what kind of a sensation it was to stand facing a firing squad. He hoped that his knees wouldn't tremble--they felt a trifle weak even now. There was a chance that the man might not recall his face, but a very slight chance.
It had been his remarkable likeness to Leopold of Lutha that had resulted in the snatching of a crown from Prince Peter's head.
Likely indeed that he would ever forget his, Barney's, face, though he had seen it but once without the red beard that had so added to Barney's likeness to the king. But Maenck would be along, of course, and Maenck would have no doubts--he had seen Barney too recently in Beatrice to fail to recognize him now.
Several men were entering the room where Barney stood before the general and his staff. A glance revealed to the prisoner that Peter of Blentz had come, and with him Von Coblich and Maenck. At the same instant Peter's eyes met Barney's, and the former, white and wide-eyed came al-most to a dead halt, grasping hurriedly at the arm of Maenck who walked beside him.
"My God!" was all that Barney heard him say, but he spoke a name that the American did not hear. Maenck also looked his surprise, but his expression was suddenly changed to one of malevolent cunning and gratification. He turned toward Prince Peter with a few low-whispered words. A look of relief crossed the face of the Blentz prince.
"You appear to know the gentleman," said the general who had been conducting Barney's examination. "He has been arrested as a Serbian spy, and military passes in your name were found upon his person together with the papers of an American newspaper correspondent, which he claims to be. He is charged with being Stefan Drontoff, whom we long have been anxious to apprehend. Do you chance to know anything about him, Prince Peter?""Yes," replied Peter of Blentz, "I know him well by sight.
He entered my room last night and stole the military passes from my coat--we all saw him and pursued him, but he got away in the dark. There can be no doubt but that he is the Serbian spy.""He insists that he is Bernard Custer, an American," urged the general, who, it seemed to Barney, was anxious to make no mistake, and to give the prisoner every reasonable chance --a state of mind that rather surprised him in a European military chieftain, all of whom appeared to share the popu-lar obsession regarding the prevalence of spies.
"Pardon me, general," interrupted Maenck. "I am well acquainted with Mr. Custer, who spent some time in Lutha a couple of years ago. This man is not he.""That is sufficient, gentlemen, I thank you," said the gen-eral. He did not again look at the prisoner, but turned to a lieutenant who stood near-by. "You may remove the pris-oner," he directed. "He will be destroyed with the others--here is the order," and he handed the subaltern a printed form upon which many names were filled in and at the bot-tom of which the general had just signed his own. It had evidently been waiting the outcome of the examination of Stefan Drontoff.
Surrounded by soldiers, Barney Custer walked from the presence of the military court. It was to him as though he moved in a strange world of dreams. He saw the look of satisfaction upon the face of Peter of Blentz as he passed him, and the open sneer of Maenck. As yet he did not fully realize what it all meant--that he was marching to his death! For the last time he was looking upon the faces of his fellow men; for the last time he had seen the sun rise, never again to see it set.
He was to be "destroyed." He had heard that expression used many times in connection with useless horses, or vicious dogs. Mechanically he drew a cigarette from his pocket and lighted it. There was no bravado in the act. On the contrary it was done almost unconsciously. The soldiers marched him through the streets of Burgova. The men were entirely im-passive--even so early in the war they had become accus-tomed to this grim duty. The young officer who commanded them was more nervous than the prisoner--it was his first detail with a firing squad. He looked wonderingly at Bar-ney, expecting momentarily to see the man collapse, or at least show some sign of terror at his close impending fate;but the American walked silently toward his death, puffing leisurely at his cigarette.
At last, after what seemed a long time, his guard turned in at a large gateway in a brick wall surrounding a factory.