Arms and the Woman - Page 29/169

"Step in, monsieur," said a low voice in French. I obeyed. The horse

started. As we spun along the pavement a light flashed into the

window. The Princess sat before me. There was a ringing in my ears,

and I breathed quickly. But I said no word; it was for her to speak

first.

"Monsieur is an American," she began. "The American is of a chivalric

race."

"That should be the aim of all men," I replied.

"But it is not so. Monsieur, I have been studying you for the past

week. To-night I place my honor and my fame in your hands; it is for

you to prove that you are a knight. I trust you. When I have said

what I shall say to you, you may withdraw or give me your aid, as you

please."

"I am grateful for your confidence, your Highness," said I. "What is

it that you wish me to do?"

"Have patience, monsieur, till the ride is done," she said. "Do not

speak again till I permit you. I must think."

The journey was accomplished in half an hour.

"It is here, monsieur, that we alight," she said as the carriage

stopped.

I was glad that her opera cloak was of dark material and that she wore

a veil.

The building before which we stood was on the outskirts of the city.

Far away to my left I could see the flickering lights of the palaces; a

yellowish haze hung over all. Once within the building I noted with

surprise the luxurious appointments. Plainly it was no common inn, a

resort for the middle and traveling classes; whether it was patronized

by the nobility I could only surmise.

"We shall continue to speak in French," she said, as she threw back her

cloak and lifted her veil. "Monsieur has probably heard that the

Princess Hildegarde is a creature of extravagant caprices; and he

expects an escapade."

"Your Highness wrongs me," I protested. "I am an obscure American;

your Highness does not share your--that is----"

I stopped, not wishing to give the term escapade to anything she might

do. As a matter of fact she has caused her royal guardian, the King,

no end of trouble. She went to Paris once unattended; at another time

she roamed around Heidelberg and slashed a fencing master; she had

donned a student's garb. She is said to be the finest swordswoman on

the Continent. Yet, notwithstanding her caprices, she is a

noble-minded woman. She does all these things called social vagaries

because she has a fine scorn for the innate hypocrisy of the social

organization of this country. She loves freedom not wisely but too

well. To go on: "Monsieur wrongs me also," she said. "In what are termed my escapades

I am alone. You appealed to me," with a directness which amazed me,

"because of your handsome face, your elegant form, your bright eyes.

You are a man who loves adventure which has the spice of danger in it.

My countrymen----." She crooked one of her bare shoulders, which shone

like yellow ivory in the subdued light. This rank flattery cooled me.

A woman who has any regard for a man is not likely to flatter him in

respect to his looks on so short and slight an acquaintance.

"Monsieur," she proceeded, "this is to be no escapade, no caprice. I

ask your aid as a desperate woman. At court I can find no one to

succor me, save at the peril of that which is dearer to me than my

life. Among the commoners, who would dare? An Englishman? It is too

much trouble. A Frenchman? I would trust him not quite so far as the

door. You are the first American, not connected with the legation, I

have ever met. Will you help me?"