When the major asked me my plans, I answered almost at random, for my thoughts were away back with the darkly robed figure on the horse looking down on me with a light in the eyes which it filled me with sheer ecstasy to believe had been kindled by the torch of love.

I pleaded that I was vastly fatigued, and then went to my room, to lie tossing from side to side like a love-mad loon, grudging even the hours to sleep because I should not be able to think of Minna.

I was in truth crazed with the knowledge that she loved me; and when I awoke in the morning--for sleep conquered my silly resistance--it was with just the same fevered longing to be with her.

Yet I had plenty to think of and to plan; and when I forced myself to think that even now, though things had gone so well thus far, there was much to do before Minna's safety was secured, I began to think rationally and connectedly.

As I stepped into the fresh morning air I found Praga out before me, pacing up and down in heavy thought. He had not been to bed at all, but was like iron, and seemed as fresh as the morning itself.

"I was thinking of rousing you, Prince," he said. "What about the Duke Marx? That best of good fellows von Krugen may be getting anxious."

"I can say nothing yet; but I think my purpose is accomplished, and that I shall send you to him with an order for the duke's release."

"What!" he cried in a tone of astonishment. "Throw it all up when you have the game in your hands? A couple of days' firmness and the countess will have the throne as surely as I know how to whip a sword from its scabbard. You're not turning chicken-hearted, surely?"

"You do not understand matters," I said shortly.

"Understand! There's not much wit needed to understand this business. I know enough what the people think and want, and what a bold coup would do at this crisis; and if ever a woman had a crown at her feet, and for the mere picking up, it's the countess."

"Maybe; but matters are as I say. I will give you my decision later."

"I hope you won't let yourself be ruled by a woman's tricky fears.

There's danger that way, too. Once give these Ostenburg folk the power, and you may whistle for your chances of any safety. I wouldn't trust one of them. What will you do?"

"I have not decided," I repeated; and it was evident that my apparent vacillation mortified him. But the mood pa.s.sed in a second, as did most moods with him, except revenge, and he laughed.

"Well, of course, it must be as you please. It is your game, not mine,"

and he waved his hand as though the matter were settled. Then he asked with another change of tone:

"And about the burial of that carrion von Nauheim?"

"Where is the body lying?"

"In the shed of a cottage nearest to the spot where he broke his miserable neck."

"I will leave directions here for the funeral. There will be some sort of inquiry, and you may have to be present as witness. But I don't suppose any of those who have used him will take much heed of his death, and probably Major Gessler will be able to make all arrangements."

Later on I discussed this with him, and he agreed to see that everything the authorities might require should be done.

"If you're giving up things, you'll have no more need of me, I suppose?"

asked the Corsican after a pause.

"You put it bluntly," I answered. "I hope, of course, that all these complications are nearly over, but if you will let me I shall wish to see you about your future. But for you I could not have carried this through, and I shall not forget that."

"I never take too serious thought about what you call my future, Prince.

If I killed the brother, I've helped to save the sister, and, if she knows it, that's enough for me." He said this with as much earnestness as I had ever observed in him save in his moods of furious pa.s.sion. But he lapsed into his more customary temper immediately after, and added: "Besides, I've had my revenge, although I'm sorry I didn't run the brute through before he had the luck to break his neck. To the close of my life I shall regret never having had him to play with at the end of my sword."

At that moment Major Gessler came out of the house looking very serious and called me aside.

"I have very grave news from Munich, Prince," he said. I noticed that he was now always very careful to give me the t.i.tle which I think he knew did not belong to me. "Last night the Kaiser's confidential adviser, von Augener, arrived there from Berlin. The news of this business has caused a big stir in the capital, and the Emperor himself is expected at Munich. The Duke Marx should be there without an hour's unnecessary delay."

"Had you held the Countess Minna safe in your charge yesterday, Major Gessler, he might have been there now. It is not I who am responsible for the delay."

I spoke firmly, for I resented the too peremptory tone he adopted.

"What are your plans, then?" he asked next. "Will you give me the authority for his release?"

"I can tell you better an hour hence, when I have seen my cousin."

"You must be good enough to give me some definite news to send to Munich."

"You can send them the reason for the delay," I retorted hotly. "I decline your dictation, sir, and can dispense with your interference."

He was about to reply with equal warmth when Minna came out of one of the windows.

"Good morning, gentlemen," she said brightly. "Good morning, cousin Hans," and, her face radiant with smiles, she came to me holding out her hands.

All my anger fled at the sight of her, and when I held her hands in mine and read in her eyes the answering emotions to those which were rushing out through mine I had no thoughts save of peace, gladness, goodwill, and love.

"We must speak together at once," I said. "Shall we walk in the gardens here?"

I led her to a large, wide lawn, through the centre of which ran a broad path. It was a spot where we could not well be overheard.

"I pa.s.sed the night in wondering what I was to hear this morning," she said. "I think it must be good news, for I was so happy."

"You have not slept, then?"

"Oh, yes. But while I slept I dreamt, and now and then had spells of delicious wakefulness. I don't know which was the better--the dreams that all was right, or the waking beliefs that all would soon be."

"I hope it will be," I declared earnestly.

"Nay, I am sure it all will," she declared, as if in rebuke of my doubt.

"Isn't this a lovely old garden?" she cried. "Not so good as Gramberg, of course, because no place could be so dear to me as that. But yet lovely. And what flowers! Did you ever see such magnificence? And the perfumes! They seem to distil the very essence of peace. And what a change from yesterday. It was a prison then--to-day a veritable palace of delight. Heigho! And you have changed it for me! And now for this news. You know where you left off? I do. I think I could repeat every word you said. You are going to tell me who you were before you became Heinrich Fischer, the actor at Frankfort."

"I was a nameless wanderer, and went there almost direct from my death and burial."

She stood still in the path and looked at me in blank surprise; her face wrinkled in perplexity that was only half earnest; and, despite the serious nature of things, her mood partially infected me.

"Your death?" she said in wonderment.

"It is all true. Did you ever hear your brother speak of a young Count von Rudloff, in the navy, who was at one time a friend of the Royal Family, and whose death at Berlin about five years ago aroused some comment? It happened almost immediately after the Prince, now his Majesty the Emperor, had met with an accident on board the Imperial yacht."

"The Count von Rudloff?" she repeated thoughtfully, saying the name over once or twice as though some old memories were partly stirred by it. "I think I did--but what is that to us?"

"To me much--everything, indeed. I am the Count von Rudloff," and then I told her unreservedly the whole of my strange story.

Her first comment surprised me.

"Is this the story you thought would part us?" she asked.