“Please put on your lights. Who have you with you, please? Your pass, please.”
“One moment,” said the Princess calmly and went into first speed. The car simply jumped forward; the soldiers were only just able to get out of the way. ‘Don’t shoot,” cried one of them, and the car flew into the darkness. They went round a sharp corner and continued almost in the opposite direction. Two soldiers approached the car.
“Who’s on duty?” she asked coldly.
“Lieutenant Rohlauf,” answered the soldier.
“Send for him!”
Lieutenant Rohlauf came running out of the guardhouse, buttoning up his uniform.
“Good-evening, Rohlauf,” she said amicably. “How are you? Please let me out.”
He stood still respectfully, but looked doubtfully at Prokop: “Delighted, but . . . has the gentleman a pass?”
The Princess smiled. “It’s only a bet, Rohlauf. To Brogel and back in thirty-five minutes. You don’t believe me? Don’t make me lose my bet.” Stripping off her glove, she gave him her hand from the car. “Au revoir, yes? Look in some time.” He clicked his heels and kissed her hand, bowing deeply. The soldiers opened the barrier and the car moved off. “Au revoir!” she called back.
They whirled along an endless avenue. Now and then there flashed past the light of some human habitation; in a village a child was crying, behind a fence a dog became excited at the dark, flying car. “What have you done?” cried Prokop. “Do you know that Holz has five children and a crippled
