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第17章

"I shall be pleased to tell her Highness that a stranger, who has not met her, who does not even suspect her rebel spirit, desires to be her friend.""O, Mademoiselle," he cried in alarm, "that desire was expressed in confidence.""I know it.It is for that very reason I wish her to know.Have no fear, Monsieur;" and she laughed without mirth."Her Highness will not send you to prison"Close at hand Maurice discovered a cuirassier, who, on seeing them, saluted and stood attention.Maurice was puzzled.

"Lieutenant," said the girl, "Monsieur--Carewe?" turning to Maurice.

"Yes, that is the name."

"Well, then, Monsieur Carewe has met with an accident; please escort him to the gate.I trust you will not suffer any inconvenience from the cold.Good evening, Monsieur Carewe."She retraced her steps down the path.The bulldog followed.Once he looked back at Maurice, and stopped as if undecided, then went on.Maurice stared at the figure of the girl unfil it vanished behind a clump of rose bushes.

"Well, Monsieur Carewe!" said the Lieutenant, a broad smile under his mustache.

"I beg your pardon, Lieutenant.May I ask you who she is?""What! You do not know?"

Maurice suddenly saw light."Her Royal Highness?" blankly.

"Her Royal Highness, God bless her!" cried the Lieutenant heartily.

"Amen to that," replied Maurice, his agitation visible even to the officer.

They arrived at the gate in silence.The cuirassier raised the bar, touched his helmet, and said, with something like an amused twinkle in his eyes: "Would Monsieur like to borrow my helmet for a space?"Maurice put up a hand to his water-soaked hair, and gave an ejaculation of dismay.He had forgotten all about his hat, which was by now, in-all probabilities, at the bottom of the lake.

"Curse the luck!" he said, in English.

"Curse the want of it, I should say!" was the merry rejoinder, also in English.

Maurice threw back his head and laughed, and the cuirassier caught the infection.

"However, there is some compensation for the hat," said the cuirassier, straightening his helmet."You are the first stranger who has spoken to her Highness this many a day.Did the dog take to your calves? Well, never mind; he has no teeth.It was only day before yesterday that the Marshal swore he'd have the dog shot.Poor dog! He is growing blind, too, or he'd never have risked his gums on the Marshal, who is all shins.If you will wait I will fetch you one of the archbishop's skull caps.""Don't trouble yourself," laughed Maurice."What I need is not a hat, but a towel, and I'll get that at the hotel.George! I feel so like an ass.What is your name, Lieutenant?""Von Mitter, Carl von Mitter, at your service.And you are Monsieur Carewe.""Of the American legation in Vienna.Thanks for your trouble.""None at all.You had better hurry along; your nails are growing black."Maurice passed into the street."Her Royal Highness!" he muttered."The crown princess, and I never suspected.Her name is Alexia, and she serves the princess whenever she can! Maurice, you are an ass!"Having arrived at this conclusion, and brushing the dank hair from his eyes, he thrust his hands into his oozing pockets, and proceeded across the square toward the Continental, wondering if there was a rear entrance.Happily the adventure absorbed all his thoughts.He was quite unobservant of the marked attention bestowed on him.Carriages filled the Strasse, and many persons moved along the walks.It was the promenade hour.The water, which still dripped from his clothes and trickled from his shoes, left a conspicuous trail behind; and this alone, without the absence of a hat, would have made him the object of amused and wondering smiles.

A gendarme stared at him, but seeing that he walked straight, said nothing.Maurice, however, was serenely unaware of what was passing around him.He did not notice even the tall, broad-shouldered man who, with a gun under his arm, brushed past him, followed by a round-faced German over whose back was slung a game-bag.The man with the gun was also oblivious of his surroundings.He bumped into several persons, who scowled at him, but offered no remonstrance after having taken his measure.The German put his pipe into his pocket and advanced a step.

"The other gun, Herr," he said, "would have meant the boar.""So it would, perhaps," was the reply.

"We've done pretty good work these two days," went on the German;but as the other appeared not to have heard he fell to the rear again, a sardonic smile flitting over his oily face.

When Maurice reached the hotel cafe he left an order for a cognac to be sent to his room, whither he repaired at once.As he got into dry clothes he mused.

"I wonder what sort of a man that crown prince is? Now, if Iwere he, an army could not keep me away from Bleiberg.Either he is no judge of beauty, or the peasant girls hereabout are something extraordinary.Pshaw! a man always makes an ass of himself on his wedding eve; the crown prince is simply starting in early.I believe I'll hang on here till the wedding day; a royal marriage is one of those things which I have yet to see.Ihave a fortnight or more to knock around in.I should like to know what the duchess will eventually do."He sipped the last drop of the cognac and went down the stairs.

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