And it's odd--very odd."
"What is it?" asked Marie Nikolaevna.
"Well, to tell you what it is would mean a long story which you wouldn't
believe," said Jameson; "only it's odd--very odd."
"Tell us the story," I said.
"As you won't believe a word of it," Jameson repeated, "it's not much
use my telling it."
We insisted on hearing the story, so Jameson lit a cigarette, and
began:--
"Two years ago," he said, "I was at Heidelberg, at the University, and I
made friends with a young fellow called Braun. His parents were German,
but he had lived five or six years in America, and he was practically an
American. I made his acquaintance by chance at a lecture, when I first
arrived, and he helped me in a number of ways. He was an energetic and
kind-hearted fellow, and we became great friends. He was a student, but
he did not belong to any _Korps_ or _Bursenschaft_, he was working hard
then. Afterwards he became an engineer. When the summer _Semester_ came
to an end, we both stayed on at Heidelberg. One day Braun suggested that
we should go for a walking tour and explore the country. I was only
too pleased, and we started. It was glorious weather, and we enjoyed
ourselves hugely. On the third night after we had started we arrived at
a village called Salzheim. It was a picturesque little place, and there
was a curious old church in it with some interesting tombs and relics of
the Thirty Years War.
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