"To Bleiberg, your Highness," he cried, at the same time offering the bottle, which the prince did not hesitate to empty.
"Ha !" staggering to his feet."Where are the men?"Maurice explained the cause of their absence.The prince swore, and climbed with difficulty into the saddle.
"Thank God," he said, as they galloped away, "we shall be there first.""Adieu, Madame!" Maurice cried, airily.He was free.
"To our next meeting, duchess!" The prince, too, was free, but he thirsted for a full revenge.
They had been on the way but a short time when Maurice lifted his arm.
"Look!"
The prince raised his head.It was dawn, yellow and cold and pure.
They fell into silence; sometimes Maurice caught himself counting the beat of the hoofs and the variation of sounds, as when they struck sand or slate, or crossed small wooden bridges.
Here and there he saw peasants going into the fields to begin the long, long day of toil.The saddle on which he sat had been the property of a short man, for the stirrups were too high, and the prince's were too low.But neither desired to waste time to adjust them.And so they rode with dangling legs and bodies sunken in the saddles; mute, as if by agreement.
They had gone perhaps ten miles when they perceived a horse flying toward them, half a mile away.The rider was not yet visible.They felt no alarm, but instinctively they drew together.Nearer and nearer came the lonely horseman, and as the distance lessened into some hundred yards they discerned the flutter of a gown.
"A woman!" exclaimed Maurice."And alone this time of morning!""Eh?" cried the prince; "and heading for the duchy? Let us wait."They drew up to the side of the highway.The woman came fearlessly on, her animal's head down and his tail flaring out behind.On, on; abreast of them; as she flew past there was a vision of a pale, determined face, a blond head bared to the chill wind.She heeded not their challenge; it was a question whether or not she heard it.They stood watching her until she and her horse dwindled into a mere moving speck, finally to become lost altogether in a crook of the road.
"I should like to know what that means," said Maurice.
"It is very strange," the prince said, musingly."I have seen that woman before.She is one of the dancers at the opera.""Mayhap she has a lover on the other side.""Mayhap.Let us be on.There's the sun, and we are a good thirteen miles away!" and the prince slapped the neck of his horse, which bounded forward.
This tiring pace they maintained until they mounted the hill from which they could see the glittering spires of the city, and the Werter See as it flashed back the sunlight.
"Bleiberg!" Maurice waved his hand.
"Thanks to you, that I look on it."
It was ten o'clock when they passed under the city gates.
"Monsieur, will you go with me to the palace?" asked the prince.
"If your Highness will excuse me," said Maurice; "no, I should be in the way; and besides I am dead for want of sleep.""I shall never sleep," grumbled the prince, "till I have humbled that woman.And you? Have you no rankle in your heart? Have you no desire to witness that woman's humiliation?""Your Highness, I belong to a foreign country.""No matter; be my aide.Come; I offer you a complete revenge for the treatment you have received at Madame's hands.Your government shall never know."Maurice studied the mane of his horse.Suddenly he made a gesture.This gesture consigned to the four winds his diplomatic career."I accept," he said."You will find me at the Continental.I confess that I have no love for this woman.She has robbed me of no little conceit.""To the palace, then; to the palace! And this hour to-morrow we, you and I, will drink to her Royal Highness at the Red Chateau.
To the palace!"
Up the Strasse they raced, through the lower town to the upper, and down the broad asphalt to the palace gates.The prince rushed his horse to the very bars and shook them in his wild impatience.
"Ho! open, open!" he called.
Several cuirassiers lounged about.At the sight of these two hatless, bedraggled men storming the gates, they ran forward with drawn swords and angry cries.Lieutenant Scharfenstein was among them.At second glance he recognized Maurice, who hailed him.
"Open, Lieutenant," he cried; "it is his Highness, Prince Frederick!"The bars came down, the gates swung in.
