suited me perfectly not to mention names.
“I beg pardon,” I murmured.
“But how is it possible?” she asked. “Do you know what he was to come for?”
“Oh, yes!”
“And he hasn’t come?”
“No.”
She frowned.
“Wouldn’t he come?”
“He couldn’t. So I came.”
“But how did you know anything about it? Did he tell you about the pr – about the affair?”
“No. I only heard – ”
“From him?”
“Yes – that you wanted a champion.”
“Oh, that’s absurd! Why, you never heard of me!”
“Ah, indeed I have!”
“And – did you recognize me under my new name?”
“Your – ”
“My – my title. You know.”
“The – he told me that. Must I confess? I jumped at the chance of serving you.”
“You had never seen me!”
“Perhaps I had seen your photograph.”
She smiled at this, but still looked perturbed.
“Pray don’t be distressed,” said I. “I am very discreet.”
“Oh, I hope so! The prince [she spoke in a whisper] was so urgent about discretion. You haven’t seen him?”
“The prince? No.”
“And – when is it to be?”
“I don’t quite understand.” This was my first truthful remark.
“Why, the duel!”
“Oh, it’s all over!”
“Over!”
“Yes – two hours ago.”
“And the baron? No, forgive me. You! Are you hurt?”
“Not a bit. He’s hurt.”
“Is he dead?” she asked breathlessly.
“I am sorry, countess. Not quite. Was that necessary?”
“Oh, no! Though he deserved it. He insulted me shamefully.”
“Then he did deserve it.”
She went off at a tangent.
“What became of my letter?”
“They gave it to me. You only said for the gentleman who dined with your friends.”
“Then you read it?” she asked, blushing.
“Yes. How I wish I were the rightful owner of it!”
“Why didn’t he come?” she asked again.
“He’s going to write and explain.”
“And you really came because – ”
“May I tell you already? Or have you guessed already?”
She blushed again.
“I don’t see what else the prince could do, you know,” she said. “He ought, of course, never to have gone to the ball at all.”
“Perhaps not,” I answered; “but I suppose he was tempted.”
“Do you think very badly of me?”
“I should think you perfection if – ”
“Well?”
“You would give me some breakfast.”
“Oh, what a shame! You’re starving! And after all you have done! Come, I’ll wait on you.”
My meal was very pleasant. The lady was charming; she satisfied every feeling I had, except curiosity. She was clearly English; equally clearly she was involved with some great people on the Continent. I gathered that the baron had insulted her, when she was with the prince, and the latter could not, whether for state or domestic reasons, espouse the quarrel. So far I got, but no farther.
“What a debt I owe you!” she said, as she led the way after breakfast to the top of a little tower. An awning was spread overhead, and armchairs on the floor. A cool breeze blew, and stirred her hair.
“I am more than paid!”
“Fancy, if you had been hurt!”
“Better I than the colonel!” I suggested.
She darted a smile at me.
“Oh, well,” she said, “you came, and he didn’t. I like you best.”
It was all very charming, but time was flying, and I began to plan a graceful exit.
“You make it hard to go,” I said.
“Yes, I suppose we must go as soon as possible. Herr Vooght said at two o’clock.”
I was startled. Delightful as she was, I hardly reckoned on her being one of the party.
“The prince will be so pleased to see you,” she went on.
“Will he?”
“Why, you will have my recommendation!”
“I’m sure it must be all-powerful!”
“But we have two hours before we need start. You must want to rest.”
“What a charming tower this is!”
“Yes; such a view. Look, we can see for miles. Only I hate that stretch of dusty road.”
I looked carelessly toward the road along which we had come.
“Look what a dust!” she said. “It’s a carriage! Oh, they’ll upset!”
I jumped up. About half a mile off, I saw a carriage and pair driven furiously toward the villa. My heart beat.
“Who can it be?” she said.
“Don’t be frightened,” said I. “Possibly the authorities have found out about the duel.”
“Oh!”
“Let me go and see.”
“Take care!”
