He dropped his arms, caution again
warning him, but he stood gazing. Perhaps it was a powerful, mysterious
current sent from his heart that drew her at last. She looked in his
direction. John knew that she could not recognize him there in the
gloom, but, snatching off his cap, and, reckless of risk he waved it
three times about his head. It was a signal. He did not know whether she
could see it, nor if, seeing, could she surmise what it meant, but he
hoped vaguely that something might come of it. In any event, it was a
relief to his feelings and it brought hope.
After the signal he forgot to put the cap on his head, but stood with it
dangling in his hand.
"Hey, you fool!" said a rough German voice, "why do you stand there
staring, with your cap in your hand, and your head bare, inviting the
quick death of pneumonia that an idiot like you deserves?"
Although the voice was rough it was not unkindly, and as John came out
of his dreams and wheeled about he saw again the rubicund face of
Sergeant Scheller.
"I was looking at the hotel," he replied with perfect composure, as he
replaced his cap, "and I saw one of our great generals pass in at the
door. At least I thought him such by his uniform, and taking off my cap
to honor him I forgot to put in back again."
Scheller burst into a roar.
"Why, it's our Castel once more!" he exclaimed.
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