Its little winged words will bear you safely to the headquarters of General Osterweiler thirty miles to the north and east, and there you'll have to get another passport, if you can.

_Auf wiedersehen,_ Jean Castel.

Your forefathers were French, but you are German, good German, and I wish you well." Lieutenant Schmidt's cheeks were very red just then, not altogether with the cold, and his benevolence had extended to the whole world, including the French and English, whom he must fight regretfully.
"Oh," said John, as an afterthought, although he was keenly noting his condition, "while I was wandering in the snow of the big storm, I heard from a sentinel that one of our great generals and beloved princes.
Prince Karl of Auersperg, had passed this way with his train." Perhaps if Lieutenant Schmidt had not taken so much good Munich beer after a long fast he might have become suspicious, because it was not the question that an ordinary peasant and cattle-herder would ask unless the previous conversation had led directly to it.

But as it was he fairly exuded trust and kindness.
"Not here," he replied, "but at a point further toward the west and north.

So great a figure as Prince Karl of Auersperg could scarcely go by without our hearing of it.