I nodded.

"Will you be so kind, sir, as to walk straight in? That door, sir. The countess expects you."

I had my doubts about that, but I walked in, shutting the door swiftly behind me, lest the servant should hear anything. I thought an explosion not improbable.

The room was dim, close curtains shutting out the growing strength of the sunshine. The air was thick with the scent of flowers that overpowered without quite smothering the appetizing smell rising from a table profusely spread for breakfast. I had entered softly, and had time to take note of the surroundings before I became aware of a tall, slight figure in white, first moving impetuously toward me, then stopping abruptly in surprise. Presumably, this was the countess. Charming as she was, with her open blue eyes, fluffy golden hair, and fresh tints, I wondered from what n.o.ble house she sprang. However, the fountains of honor are many, and their streams meander sometimes through very winding channels.

The countess stood and looked at me. I bowed and smiled.

"You are naturally surprised," I said, in my smoothest tone.

"I was expecting--another gentleman."

"Yes, I know. I come in his place."

"In his place?" she repeated, in incredulous tones.

"Yes; in the colonel's place."

"Hush!" she exclaimed. "We needn't mention names."

It suited me perfectly not to mention names.

"I beg pardon," I murmured.

"But how is it possible?" she asked. "Do you know what he was to come for?"

"Oh, yes!"

"And he hasn't come?"

"No."

She frowned.

"Wouldn't he come?"

"He couldn't. So I came."

"But how did you know anything about it? Did he tell you about the pr--about the affair?"

"No. I only heard----"

"From him?"

"Yes--that you wanted a champion."

"Oh, that's absurd! Why, you never heard of me!"

"Ah, indeed I have!"

"And--did you recognize me under my new name?"

"Your----"

"My--my t.i.tle. You know."

"The--he told me that. Must I confess? I jumped at the chance of serving you."

"You had never seen me!"

"Perhaps I had seen your photograph."

She smiled at this, but still looked perturbed.

"Pray don't be distressed," said I. "I am very discreet."

"Oh, I hope so! The prince [she spoke in a whisper] was so urgent about discretion. You haven't seen him?"

"The prince? No."

"And--when is it to be?"

"I don't quite understand." This was my first truthful remark.

"Why, the duel!"

"Oh, it's all over!"

"Over!"

"Yes--two hours ago."

"And the baron? No, forgive me. You! Are you hurt?"

"Not a bit. He's hurt."

"Is he dead?" she asked breathlessly.

"I am sorry, countess. Not quite. Was that necessary?"

"Oh, no! Though he deserved it. He insulted me shamefully."

"Then he did deserve it."

She went off at a tangent.

"What became of my letter?"