CHAPTER XVIII.
A WHITE SCAR Two days later, in the afternoon.
"Grumbach," said Carmichael, "what the deuce were you looking at the other night, with those opera-glasses ?" "At the ball ?" Grumbach pressed down the ash in his pipe and brushed his thumb on his sleeve.

"I was looking into the past." "With a pair of opera-glasses ?" "Yes." Grumbach was perfectly serious.
"Oh, pshaw! You were following her highness with them.

I want to know why." "She is beautiful." "You made a promise to me not long ago." "I did ?" non-committally.
"Yes.

Soon I shall be shaking the dust of Dreiberg, and I want to know beforehand what this Chinese puzzle is.

What did you do that compelled your flight from Ehrenstein ?" Grumbach's pipe hung pendulent in his hand.