As Steinmetz passed him he gave a little jerk of the head toward the castle.

The jerk of the head might have been due to an inequality of the road, but it might also convey an appointment.

The keen, haggard face of Michael Roon showed no sign of mutual understanding.

And the carriage rattled on through the stricken village.
Two hours later, when it was quite dark, a closed carriage, with two bright lamps flaring into the night, passed through the village toward the castle at a gallop.
"It is the prince," the peasants said, crouching in their low door-ways.
"It is the prince.

We know his bells--they are of silver--and we shall starve during the winter.