"You curs!" said Maurice, panting. "Shame on you! and an old dog that can't defend himself! You knew he had no teeth."

"G.o.d save your Excellency!" laughed a student in the rear, who had not tasted the cane; "you may be sure we knew he had no teeth or we wouldn't have risked our precious calves. Don't let him scare you with the popgun, comrades. At him, my brave ones; he will be more sport than the dog! Down with the Osians, dogs, followers and all!"

"Come on, then," said Maurice, whose fighting blood was at heat. "Come on, if you think it isn't over. There are six bullets in this popgun, and I don't give a particular d.a.m.n where they go. Come on!"

Whether or not this challenge would have been accepted remains unwritten. There now came on the air the welcome sound of galloping hoofs, and presently two cuira.s.siers wheeled into the street. What Maurice had left undone with the cane the cuira.s.siers completed with the flat of their sabers. They had had a brush with the students the night before, and they went at them as if determined to take both interest and princ.i.p.al. The students dispersed like leaves in the wind--all save one.

He rose to his feet, his hands covering his jaw and a dazed expression in his eyes. He saw Maurice with the revolver, the cuira.s.siers with their sabers, and the remnant of his army flying to cover, and he decided to follow their example. The scene had changed somewhat since he last saw it. He slunk off at a zigzag trot.

One of the cuira.s.siers dismounted, his face red from his exertions.

"Eh?" closely scanning Maurice's white face. "Well, well! is it you, Monsieur Carewe?"

"Lieutenant von Mitter?" cried Maurice, dropping the dog, who by now had grasped the meaning of it all. "You came just in time!"

They shook hands.

"I'll lay odds that you put up a good fight," the Lieutenant said, pleasantly. "Curse these students! If I had my way I'd coop them all up in their pest-hole of a university and blow them into eternity."

"And how did the dog come in this part of the town?" asked Maurice, picking up his hat.

"He was with her Royal Highness. This is charity afternoon. She drives about giving alms to the poor, and when she enters a house the dog stands at the entrance to await her return. She came out of another door and forgot the dog. Max there remembered him only when we were several blocks away. A dozen or so of those rascally students stood opposite us when we stopped here. It flashed on me in a minute why the dog did not follow us. And we came back at a cut, leaving her Highness with no one but the groom. Max, take the dog to her Highness, and tell her that it is Monsieur Carewe who is to be thanked."

Maurice blushed. "Say nothing of my part in the fracas. It was nothing at all."

"Don't be modest, my friend," said the cuira.s.sier, laughing, while his comrade dismounted, took the dog under his arm, and made off. "This is one chance in a lifetime. Her Royal Highness will insist on thanking you personally. O, I know Mademoiselle's caprices. And there's your hat, crushed all out of shape. Truly, you are unfortunate with your headgear."

"It's felt," said Maurice, slapping it against his leg. "No harm done to the hat. Well, good day to you, Lieutenant, and thanks. I must be off."

"Nay, nay!" cried the Lieutenant. "Wait a moment. `There is a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood--' How does that line go?

I was educated in England and speak English as I do my mother tongue--"

"Won't you let me go?" asked Maurice. "Look at my clothes."

"You ought to be thankful that they are dry this time. Come; you'll have a good story to carry back to Vienna. Princesses do not eat people."

"No," said Maurice.

"Ye G.o.ds, listen to that! One would think by the tone of your voice that you wished they did!"

There was no resisting this good humor; and Maurice wanted only an excuse to wait. He sat down on the steps, sucked the knuckles of his hand, and contemplated the grin on the cuira.s.sier's face.

"I like you," said the Lieutenant; "I like your sangfroid. The palace is a devil of a dull place, and a new face is a positive relief. I suppose you know that affairs here are bad; no honesty anywhere. Everybody has his hands tied. The students know this, and do as they please. Think of two hundred gendarmes in the city, and an affair like this takes place without one of them turning up!

"I tell you frankly that it is all I can do to withhold the edge of my saber when I meet those students. Last night they held a noisy flambeau procession around the Hohenstaufenplatz, knowing full well that the king had had another stroke and quiet was necessary. They would have waked the dead. I have an idea that I forgot to use the flat of my sword; at least, the hospital report confirms my suspicions. Ah, here comes Max."

"Her Royal Highness desires to thank Monsieur Carewe, and commands that he be brought to her carriage."

Lieutenant von Mitter smiled, and Maurice stood up and brushed himself.

The troopers sprang into the saddle and started on a walk, with Maurice bringing up behind on foot. The thought of meeting the princess, together with his recent exertions, created havoc with his nerves. When he arrived at the royal carriage, his usual coolness forsook him. He fumbled with his hat, tongue-tied. He stood in the Presence.

"Monsieur," said the Voice, "I thank you with all my heart for your gallant service. Poor, poor dog!"

"It was nothing, your Highness; any man would have done the same thing."

The red in the wheel-spokes bothered his eyes.

"No, no! you must not belittle it."

"If it had not been for Lieutenant von Mitter--"

"Whither were you going, Monsieur?" interrupted the Voice.

"Nowhere; that is, I was going toward my hotel."

"The Continental?"

"Yes, your Highness."

"Step into the carriage, Monsieur;" the Voice had the ring of command.

"I will put you down there. It is the least that I can do to show my grat.i.tude."

"I--I to ride with your Highness?" he stammered. "O, no! I--that is--it would scarcely be--"

"You are not afraid of me, Monsieur?" with a smile which, though it had a bit of the rogue in it, was rather sad. She moved to the other side of the seat and put the dog on the rug at her feet. "Perhaps you are proud?

Well, Monsieur, I too am proud; so proud that I promise never to forgive you if you refuse to gratify my wish."

"I was not thinking of myself, your Highness, or rather I was. I am not presentable. Look at me; my hat is out of shape, my clothes dusty, and I dare say that my face needs washing."

The Presence replied to this remarkable defense with laughter, laughter in which Maurice detected an undercurrent of bitterness.

"Monsieur Carewe, you are not acquainted with affairs in Bleiberg, or you would know that I am a n.o.body. When I pa.s.s through the streets I attract little attention, I receive no homage. Enter: I command it."

"If your Highness commands--"

"I do command it," imperiously. "And you would have pleased me more fully if you had accepted the invitation and not obeyed the command."

"I withdraw all objections," he said hastily, "and accept the invitation."

"That is better," the Voice said.

Maurice, still uncovered, sat down on the front seat.

"Not there, Monsieur; beside me. Etiquette does not permit you to ride in front of me."

As he took the vacant place beside her he felt a fire in his cheeks. The Voice and Presence were disquieting. As the groom touched the horses, Maurice was sensible of her sleeve against his, and he drew away. The Presence appeared unmindful.

"And you recognize me?" she asked.

"Yes, your Highness." He tried to remember what he had said to her that day in the archbishop's garden. Two or three things came back and the color remounted his cheeks.