They were gay young fellows, smoking cigarettes, their Austrian caps tipped back to let the cool breeze blow upon their foreheads, and they called cheerfully to the strong young peasant who walked slowly up the road.

John lifted his cap and answered in a tone that was respectful but not servile.
"You look like one who has traveled far," said the younger of the two, a mere boy.
"From Lorraine," answered John.

"My name is Jean Castel, which is French, but I, its owner, am not.

My family became German before I was born, and has been so ever since." "Ah, I see, made German by strength of arms." "And growing more German every day by will and liking." "You speak well for a peasant." "I was a dealer in horses, which took me much over the land and everyone who travels learns.

See, here is my passport." "Why should I look at your passport ?" "Everyone else does.