"One who owns so n.o.ble a hawk may remain covered in any man's presence.

Never have I seen so rare a battle in mid air. The soul of Roland himself must inhabit the bird."

"Will Your Grace accept the hawk?" Max asked.

"Gladly," answered the duke, "though I hesitate to deprive you of a bird to which you must be attached."

"Do not hesitate to give me that pleasure, my lord," answered Max. "The bird is yours. His name is Caesar. I will send him to the castle this evening."

"Do not send him," suggested the duke. "Double your kindness by bringing him to-morrow at the noon hour, after the morning audience. We must now follow the princess. Adieu, messieurs."

The duke touched his cap, and we bent almost to our horses' manes.

Charles and Hymbercourt rode forward at a brisk canter, and Max and I followed slowly. We entered Cambrai Gate three or four minutes after the duke and the princess.

Max, eager to exhibit his hawk to Yolanda, proposed that we ride directly to Castleman's house.

While we were crossing the Cologne bridge we saw the duke's party enter the castle by the Postern, and as we turned a corner toward Castleman's the ladies looked in our direction and the gentlemen lifted their caps.

"Yolanda will be delighted when she sees my hawk," said Max.

I did not answer, but I thought that Yolanda would not see the bird that evening, since she had just entered the castle with her father. I was in great glee of spirits; I had at last trapped the young lady. If she were not at Castleman's house there could be but one answer to my riddle. I did not merely believe that I should not find her there; I knew I should not.

Max and I hitched our horses, and when Castleman's front door opened, lo! there stood Yolanda. Never in all my life have I taken such a fall.

Somewhat out of breath, Yolanda exclaimed:--

"Ah, Sir Max and Sir Karl, I saw you coming and ran to give you welcome."

She was in an ecstasy of glee, strangely out of proportion to the event, and there was a look of triumph in her eyes.

After we entered the house Yolanda's laughter continued, and if it ceased for a moment it broke out again without a pretext. She was always pleased to see Max, and never failed to show her pleasure in laughter more or less; but Max's presence could hardly account for her high merriment and the satisfaction she seemed to feel, as if a great victory had been gained. My sense of utter defeat had nothing but Yolanda's peculiar conduct to comfort it.

To the arbor we went, Yolanda carrying the hawk on her shoulder and caressing it with her cheek. In the garden, when our adventures were related, Yolanda, all excitement, could not keep her chair, but danced delightedly like a child and killed a score of imaginary herons.

She stroked the falcon's wings, and when I said, "My lord the duke has graciously consented to accept the bird," she turned upon Max, exclaiming in mock anger:--

"The duke has graciously consented to accept the bird! I should think it required little grace to accept such a gift, though much to give it. Why don't you give the bird to me, Sir Max, if you are eager to part with it?"

"I would gladly have given it to you, Fraulein," answered Max, "had I supposed you could use it on the duke's marshes. Only n.o.bles practise the royal sport of falconry."

Yolanda glanced quickly from Max to Castleman, turned her face to the bird upon her shoulder, and said, with a touch of dignity:--

"We receive small favors from court once in a while, don't we, uncle?

We are not dirt under the n.o.bles' feet, if we are plain burgher folk, are we, uncle?"

"Don't you know, Fraulein, what great pleasure I should have taken in giving you the bird?" asked Max.

Yolanda bent her head to one side, placed her cheek against the falcon's wing and pouted. Her pout was prettier even than her smile, and that is saying a great deal.

After a few minutes Yolanda started to walk up the garden path and Max followed her, leaving the Castlemans and me under the arbor. Yolanda, still pouting, carried Caesar on her shoulder, lavishing caresses on the bird that excited Max's bitterest envy. Max spoke at intervals, but she answered only to the bird. After many futile efforts to make her speak, he said:--

"If you won't talk to me, I'll go back to the arbor."

She turned to the bird: "We are willing, Caesar, aren't we--if he can go."

Max laughed and started toward the arbor.

"Tell him to come back, Caesar. Tell him to come back," exclaimed Yolanda.

"I take no orders from a bird," declared Max, with pretended seriousness. Then she turned toward him and her face softened. She smiled and the dimples came, though there was a nervous tremor in the upturned corners of her mouth that belied her bantering air and brought Max quickly to her side. I saw the pantomime, though I did not hear the words; and I knew that neither Max nor any other man could withstand the quivering smile that played upon Yolanda's lips and the yearning invitation that was in her eyes. If Max did not soon take himself away from Burgundy and lead himself out of this temptation, I feared that in the end he would cast aside his ancient heritage, rend his sacred family ties, and forego everything he possessed in response to this mighty cry of nature, offering the one chance in life for happiness.

"Now you will give me the bird--I know you will," exclaimed Yolanda.

A remnant of the pout still hovered about her lips, doing battle with the dimples of a smile.

"I have already given him to the duke," answered Max.

"Tell the duke the bird escaped, or died suddenly of an apoplexy. Tell him anything you like, but give me the hawk," said Yolanda.

"Would you have me lie, Fraulein?" asked Max, amused at her persistency.

"I cannot do that, even for you. If you insist upon having the bird, I may go to the duke and withdraw my gift."

"Would you do that for me, Sir Max?" she asked, eagerly.

"Ay, and a great deal more, Fraulein. I tremble at the thought of what you could make me do," he answered.

"In the fiend's name, let the duke have the bird," cried Yolanda. "He will pout more than I if you don't. He is of a sullen nature."

"Do you know the duke?" asked Max, suspecting for the first time that Yolanda might be more intimate about the court than he had supposed.

"I have heard much of him from those who know him," answered Yolanda.

So the duke got Caesar.

The next morning Hymbercourt came to the inn to accompany us to the castle. While we were sipping a mug of wine at a garden table, he said:--

"I do not want to be officious in your affairs, but I am convinced that it will be well for you to tell the duke who you are. If you do not see fit to do so, it were wise in you to leave Burgundy at your earliest convenience."

"I cannot leave within a month," said Max. I knew the cause of his detention, and, ignoring his remark, turned to Hymbercourt:--

"Do you want to give the reasons for your advice?"

"Yes, I am quite willing," he answered, "but I would not have my words repeated."

"Of that you may rest a.s.sured," I answered.

"If you do not tell the duke who you are," said Hymbercourt, "he will soon learn it from our Italian friends, who have the fiend's own energy in the pursuit of vengeance. They will discover who you are, and you will lose the advantage of a frank avowal. Duke Charles admires Sir Max, but our liege lord is capricious and can easily fancy that others are plotting to injure him. I am sure that he will now receive the Count of Hapsburg graciously if you tell him that Sir Max is that person. What he would do were he to learn the fact highly colored by his Italians, I cannot say. These mercenaries have a strange influence over His Grace, and there is not a n.o.bleman in Burgundy who does not fear them."

"How will the duke feel concerning the old proposition of marriage?" I asked.