The Princess Hildegarde of Barscheit! My gloves and riding-crop
slipped from my nerveless fingers to the floor. A numbing, wilting
sensation wrinkled my spine. The Princess Hildegarde of Barscheit!
She stood opposite me, the woman--ought I not to say girl?--for whom I
had been seeking, after a fashion, all these months! The beautiful
madcap who took the duchy by the ears, every now and then, and tweaked
them! The princess herself, here in this lonely old castle into which
I had so carelessly stumbled! Romance, enchantment! Oddly enough, the
picture of her riding a bicycle flashed through my brain, and this was
followed by another, equally engaging, of the hussar who rode
cross-country, to the horror of the conservative element at court.
"The Princess Hildegarde!" I murmured stupidly.
"Yes. I have asked you a question, sir. Or shall I put the question
in French?"--ironically. "Was it the duke who sent you here?"
There was a look in her superb eyes which told me that it would have
been to her infinite pleasure to run a sword through my black and
villainous heart. Presently I recovered. With forced calm I stooped
and collected my gloves and crop.
"Your Highness, what the deuce has the duke to do with my affairs, or I
with his? As an American, you would scarcely expect me to meddle with
your private affairs. You are the last person in the world I thought
to meet this night. I represent the United States in this country, and
though I am inordinately young, I have acquired the habit of attending
to my own affairs."
From the angry face in front of me I turned to the dismayed face
beyond. There must have been a question in my glance. The young woman
drew herself up proudly.
"I am the Honorable Betty Moore."
(The princess' schoolmate in England!)
Her Highness stood biting the knuckle of a forefinger, undecided as to
what path of action to enter, to reach a satisfactory end. My very
rudeness convinced her more than anything else that I spoke the truth.
"How, then, did you select this particular road?"--still entertaining
some doubt.
"It is a highway, free to all. But I have already explained that," I
answered quietly. I moved deliberately toward the door, but with a
cat-like movement she sprang in front of me. "Well, your Highness?"
"Wait!" she commanded, extending an authoritative arm (lovely too!).
"Since you are here, and since you know who I am, you must remain."
"Must?" I repeated, taken aback.
"Must! My presence here ought not to be known to any one. When you
witness that which shall take place here to-night, you will
understand." Her tone lost its evenness; it trembled and became a bit
wild.