"Hang my memory, which seems always to forget what I wish to remember and remember what I wish to forget! Where have I met this man Beauvais before? Ah, the countess!" He thrust the message into his breast.

"Evidently Madame thinks I am worth consideration; uncommonly pretty bait. Shall I let the play run on, or shall I tell her? Ah! you have two minutes to spare," he said, as she approached. "But you do not need them," throwing a deal of admiration into his glance.

"It does not take me long to dress--on occasions."

"A compliment to me?" he said.

"If you will accept it."

It was an exhilarating morning, full of forest perfumes. Through the haze the mountains glittered like huge emeralds and amethysts.

"What a day!" said the countess, as they galloped away.

"Aye, for plots and war and love!"

"For plots and war?" demurely. Her cheeks were rosy and her hair as yellow as the silk of corn.

"Well, then, for love." He shortened his rein. "A propos, have you ever been in love, countess?"

"I? What a question!"

"Have you?"

"N--no! Let us talk of plots and war," gazing across the valley.

"No; let us talk of love. I am in love, and one afflicted that way wishes a confidant. I appoint you mine."

"Some rosy-cheeked peasant girl?" laughing.

"Perhaps. Perhaps it's only a--a pantry maid," with a sly look from the corner of his eyes. Evidently she had not heard. She was still laughing.

"I have heard of hermits falling in love with stars, and have laughed.

Now I am in the same predicament. I love a star--"

"Operatic? To be sure! Mademoiselle Lenormand of the Royal Vienna is in Bleiberg. How she keeps her age!"

It was Maurice's turn to laugh.

"And that is why you came to Bleiberg! Ah, these opera singers, had I my way, they should all be aged and homely."

"Countess, you are pulling the bit too hard," said he. "I noticed yesterday that your horse has a very tender mouth."

"Thank you." She slacked the rein. "He was going too close to the ditch.

You were saying--"

"No, it was you who were saying that all actresses should be aged and homely. But it is not Mademoiselle Lenormand, it is not the peasant, nor the pantry maid."

This time she looked up quickly.

"The woman I love is too far away, so I am going to give up thinking of her. Countess, I made a peculiar discovery this morning."

"A discovery, Monsieur? What is it?"

"Do you see that fork in the road, a mile away? When we reach it and turn I'll tell you what it is. If I told you now it might spoil the ride. What a day, truly! How clear everything is! And the air is like wine." He drew in deep breaths.

"Let us hurry and reach the fork in the road; my curiosity is stifling me."

Maurice did not laugh as she expected he would. As she observed the thoughtful frown between his brows, a shiver of dread ran through her.

It did not take long to cover the intervening mile. They turned, and the horses fell into a quick step.

"Now, Monsieur; please!"

After all... But he quelled the gentle tremor in his heart. A month ago, had he known her, he might now have told her altogether a different story. He could see that she had not an inkling of what was to come (for he had determined to tell her); and he vaguely wondered if he should bring humiliation to the dainty creature. It would be like nicking a porcelain cup. Her brows were arched inquisitively and her lips puckered....He had had a narrow escape.

He drew the message from his breast, leaned across and handed it to her.

"Why, what is this, Monsieur?"

"Read it and see." And he busied himself with the tangled mane of his horse. When they had ridden several yards, he heard her voice.

"Here, Monsieur." The hand was extended, but the face was averted.

"Countess, you are too charming a woman to lend yourself to such schemes."

There was no reply.

"Did you not volunteer to make me fall in love with you to keep me from interfering with Madame's plans?" It was brutal, but he was compelled to say it.

Silence.

"Did you not?" he persisted. "When one writes such messages as these, one should use an intricate cipher. Had I been other than a prisoner, what I have done would not be the act of a gentleman. But I am a prisoner; I must defend myself. To rob a man through his love! And such a man! He is a very infant in the hands of a woman. He has been a soldier all his life. All women to him are little less than angels; he knows nothing of their treachery, their deceit, their false smiles. It will be an easy victory, or rather it would have been, for I shall do my best to prevent it. Madame is not unknown to me; I have been waiting to see what meant this peculiar house party.

"Perhaps I am now too late. Madame distrusts me. I dare say she has her reasons. She went to you. You were to occupy me. I was young, I liked the society of women, I was gay and careless. She has decked me out as one would deck a monkey (and doubtless she calls me one behind my back), and has offered me a sword to play with.

"In America, when a man puts a sword in his hand, it is to kill somebody. Here--aye, all over the continent, for that matter--swords are baubles for young n.o.bles, used to slash each other in love affairs. I respect and admire you; had I not done so, I should not have spoken.

Countess, be frank with me, as frank as I have been with you; have I not guessed rightly?"

"Yes, Monsieur," her head bowed and her cheeks white. "Yes, yes! it was a miserable game. But I love Madame; I would sacrifice my pride and my heart for her, if need be."

"I can believe that."

"And believe me when I say that the moment I saw you, I knew that my conduct was going to be detestable. But I had given my promise. A woman has but little to offer to her country; I have offered my pride, and I am a proud woman, Monsieur. I am ashamed. I am glad that you spoke, for it was becoming unbearable to throw myself at a man whose heart I knew intuitively to be elsewhere." She raised her eyes, which were filled with a strange l.u.s.ter. "Will you forgive me, Monsieur?"

"With all my heart. For now I know that we shall be friends. You will be relieved of an odious part; for you are too handsome not to have in keeping some other heart besides your own."

He then began gaily to describe some of his humorous adventures, and continued in this vein till they arrived once more at the chateau.

Sometimes the countess laughed, but he could see that her sprightliness was gone. When they came under the porte cochere he sprang from his horse and a.s.sisted her to dismount; and he did not relinquish her hand till he had given it a friendly pressure. She stood motionless on the steps, centered a look on him which he failed to interpret, then ran swiftly into the hall, thence to her room, the door of which she bolted.

"It would not be difficult," he mused, communing with the thought which had come to him. "It would be something real, and not a chimera."