There was an uncanny note in the music of the voice. It seemed almost celestial. We could not tell whence it came. Every stone in the walls and ceiling, every slab in the floor seemed resonant with silvery tones.

After Max had answered there was a pause lasting two or three minutes, and the voice spoke again:--

"I love you, Little Max. I tell you because I wish to comfort you. Do not fear. You shall be free to-morrow. Do not answer. Adieu."

"Yolanda! Yolanda!" cried Max, pleadingly; but he received no answer. He put his hand on my shoulder and said:--

"It was Yolanda, Karl--ah, G.o.d must hate a child that He brings into the world a prince."

For the rest of the night we did not sleep, neither did we speak. The morrow was to be a day of frightful import to us, and we awaited it in great anxiety.

When the morning broke and the sun shot his rays through the narrow window, we carefully examined the floor and walls of our room, but we found no opening through which the voice could have penetrated. In the side of the room formed by the wall of the tower, the mortar had fallen from between two stones, leaving one of them somewhat loose, but the castle wall at that point was fully sixteen feet thick, and it was impossible that the voice should have come through the layers of stone.

From my first acquaintance with Yolanda there had seemed to be a supernatural element in her nature, an elfin quality in her face and manner that could not be described. Max had often told me that she impressed him in like manner. The voice in our stone-girt chamber, coming as it did from nowhere, and resounding as it did everywhere, intensified that feeling till it was almost a conviction, though I am slow to accept supernatural explanations--a natural one usually exists.

Of course, there are rare instances of supernatural power vested in men and women, and Yolanda's great, burning eyes caused me at times, almost to believe that she was favored with it.

The voice that we had heard was unquestionably Yolanda's, but by what strange power it was enabled to penetrate our rock-ribbed prison and give tongues to the cold stones I could not guess, though I could not stop trying. Here was another riddle set by this marvellous girl for my solving. This riddle, however, helped to solve the first, and confirmed my belief that Yolanda was Mary of Burgundy.

After breakfast Max and I were taken to the great hall, where we found Castleman standing before the ducal throne, speaking to Charles. The burgher turned toward us, and as we approached I heard him say:--

"My lord, these men are not spies."

"Who are they?" demanded the duke.

Castleman gave our names and told the story of our meeting at Basel, after we had escorted Merchant Franz from Cannstadt. Then he narrated Max's adventure at the moat bridge, closing with:--

"Count Calli grossly insulted Fraulein Castleman, for which Sir Max chastised him; and no doubt, my lord, this arrest has been made for revenge."

"Has the younger man name or t.i.tle other than you have given?" asked Charles.

The burgher hesitated before he answered:--

"He has, my lord, though I may not disclose it to Your Grace without his permission, unless you order me so to do upon my fealty. That I humbly beg Your Grace not to do."

"I beg Your Grace not to ask me to disclose my ident.i.ty at this time,"

said Max. "I am willing, should you insist upon knowing who I am, to tell it privately in Your Grace's ear; but I am travelling incognito with my friend, Sir Karl de Pitti, and I beg that I may remain so. My estate is neither very great nor very small, but what it is I desire for many reasons not to divulge. These reasons in no way touch Burgundy, and I am sure Your Grace will not wish to intrude upon them. Within a month, perhaps within a few days, I will enlighten you. If you will permit me to remain in Peronne, I will communicate my reasons to you personally; if I leave, I will write to Your Grace. I give my parole that I will, within a month, surrender myself to Your Lordship, if you are not satisfied, upon hearing my explanations, that my word is that of an honorable knight, and my station one worthy of Your Grace's respect. I hope my Lord d'Hymbercourt and my good friend Castleman will stand as hostages for me in making this pledge."

Both men eagerly offered their persons and their estates as hostages, and the duke, turning to the captain of the guard, said:--

"Remove the manacles from these knights."

The chains were removed, and the duke, coming down to the last step of the dais, looked into Max's face.

Max calmly returned the fierce gaze without so much as the faltering of an eyelid.

"All step back save this young man," ordered the duke, extending his open palm toward the courtiers.

We all fell away, but the duke said:--

"Farther back, farther back, I say! Don't crowd in like a pack of yokels at a street fight!"

Charles was acting under great excitement. I was not sure that it was not anger since his mien looked much like it. I did not know what was going to happen, and was in an agony of suspense. Anything was possible with this brutish duke when his brain was crazed with pa.s.sion.

All who had been near the ducal throne moved back, till no one was within ten yards of Charles save Max. The duke wore a dagger and a shirt of mail; Max wore neither arms nor armor. After the courtiers stepped back from the throne a deep, expectant hush fell upon the room. No one could guess the intentions of this fierce, cruel duke, and I was terribly apprehensive for Max's safety. Had Max been armed, I should have had no fear for him at the hands of the duke or any other man.

Charles stepped from the dais to the floor beside Max, still gazing fixedly into his face. The men were within four feet of each other. The silence in the room was broken only by the heavy breathing of excited courtiers. The duke's voice sounded loud and harsh when he spoke to Max, and his breath came in hoa.r.s.e gusts:--

"You are accused, Sir Knight, by credible witnesses of intent to murder me. For such a crime it is my privilege to kill you here and now with my own hand. What have you to say?"

Charles paused for a reply, drawing his dagger from its sheath. When Max saw the naked weapon, I noticed that he gave a start, though it was almost imperceptible. He at once recovered himself, and straightening to his full height, stepped to within two feet of the duke.

"If I plotted or intended to kill you, my lord," said Max, less moved than any other man in the room, "it is your right to kill me; but even were I guilty I doubt if my Lord of Burgundy, who is noted the world over for his bravery, would strike an unarmed man. If Your Grace wished to attack me, you would give me arms equal to your own. If you should kill me, unarmed as I am, you would be more pitiable than any other man in Burgundy. You would despise yourself, and all mankind would spurn you."

"Do you not fear me?" asked the duke, still clutching the hilt of his unsheathed dagger.

"I do not believe you have the least intent to kill me," answered Max, "but if you have, you may easily do so, and I shall be less to be pitied than you. No, I do not fear you! Do I look it, my lord?"

"No, by G.o.d, you don't look it. Neither have you cause to fear me," said Charles. "There is not another man in Christendom could have stood this ordeal without flinching."

To a brave man, bravery is above all the cardinal virtue. Charles turned toward his courtiers and continued:--

"There is one man who does not fear me--man, say I? He is little more than a boy. Men of Burgundy, take a lesson from this youth, and bear it in mind when we go to war."

The duke began to unbuckle his shirt of mail, speaking as he did so:--

"I'll soon learn who has lied. I'll show this boy that I am as brave as he."

Charles turned to Calli.

"Sir Count, did you not say this knight wished to kill me, even at the cost of his own life?"

"I so said, my lord, and so maintain upon my honor as a knight and upon my hope of salvation as a Christian. I so heard him avow,"

answered Calli.

"I will quickly prove or disprove your words, Sir Count," said the duke, removing his mail shirt and throwing it to the floor. Then he turned to Max and offered him the hilt of his dagger: "If you would purchase my death at the cost of your life, here is my dagger, and you may easily make the barter. I am unarmed. One blow from that great arm of yours will end all prospects of war with your Switzerland."

Max hesitatingly took the dagger and looked with a puzzled expression from it to the duke's face. Campo-Ba.s.so and his Italian friends moved toward their lord as if to protect him, but Charles waved them back with a protesting palm.

"Switzerland is not my native land, Your Grace, nor do I seek your life.

Take your dagger," said Max.

"I offer you better terms," said Charles. "If you wish to kill me, I now give you safe conduct beyond the borders of Burgundy."

"My lord, you are mistaken," said Max, impatiently, tossing the dagger to the floor and stepping back from the duke. A soft ripple of laughter was heard in the ladies' gallery.

"No, it is not I that am mistaken," said Charles. "It is Campo-Ba.s.so and his friends. Count Calli, prepare to give the combat to this knight, whoever he may be, and G.o.d have mercy on your soul, for the day of your death is at hand."

Another ripple of soft laughter came from the ladies' gallery.

"I cannot fight him," wailed Calli. "I am suffering from a broken arm.