VON STROMBERG
General muttered, his brows wrinkled. And then, “You saw much of your cousin?”
“For a while he went with me to the gymnasium, then to the University of Heidelberg. He has come over each year and shot with me here at Windenberg.”
“You are fond of him?”
Von Winden shrugged.
“He is my relative. We have always got along. I should not have cared to find that he was a traitor.”
The General smoked silently, his gaze on the fire.
“But his father was an Englishman, Graf von Winden. We can’t forget that. Tell me. You have known him always. What was his attitude at the University? Did he show a real affection for German life and customs? In short was he ever able to forget that half of him was English?”
Udo von Winden pulled at his small blond mustache thoughtfully.
“I can only say that he was quieter than most of us. But he was popular. He was a member of the Saxe-Borussia and represented the Corps on the Mensurboden against Suevia and Guestphalia. A Prussian for all that any of us knew— Prussian of Prussians.”
“His father died when he was quite young, I believe?”
“Yes, Excellenz. But his father, too, had lived much in Germany. He was a diplomat and scholar and enjoyed the friendship of the Iron Chancellor. That was before the ‘Hassgesang,’ Excellenz.”
“Or before the ‘Tag,’” growled the General. “Your loyalty to your cousin is natural, but loyalty to the Vaterland”
Udo von Winden rose quickly.
“You would not suggest, Excellenz?”
135
