Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - II - V
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“My name is Doctor Martin,” said the
Doctor, “my father . . .”
“Ah! Now I understand the feeling of
sympathy I felt for you from the first, and
that vague air of distinction I did not fail to
notice in your appearance; of course you are
of German origin, your name is pure German,
and what is more you are the bearer of an old
name, my dear Doctor von Martin. You bear
the illustrious name of one of the Generals
of Frederick the Great, and there is also
amongst the civilians our famous Martin
Luther . . .”
“Sorry to have to correct you, Graf
Rumpelmayer”—Adalbert frowned a little
—“but I have never heard of any German
ancestry of mine, and there is no handle to
my name; it is plain and simple Martin.
My father . . .”
“I beg your pardon,” said Adalbert; “it
is of course force of habit that makes me add
that so significant little prefix to the names I
generally mention, all my friends being
noblemen.”
“My father was a blacksmith,” said the
Doctor.
Adalbert looked round, horrified lest the
sentry should hear them.
“Never mind, Martin, who your father
was,” he said bravely. “I am glad to see
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