iver,
Max, who was riding in advance, announced that the other cavalcade was
not in sight. If it had passed, our race was lost; if it had not, we
felt that we could easily ride into Peronne ahead of Duke Charles. At
that point the roads followed the river within a stone's throw of each
other for a great distance. If the duke had not reached this point, our
need for haste was greater than ever before. We must be beyond the open
stretch before the other cavalcade should come up to it.

Our poor blown horses were loath to run, but we urged them to it. When
we had covered half this open road, we took to the sod at the roadside
to avoid raising a telltale cloud of dust. After a hard gallop we
reached a forest where the road again left the river. Here we halted to
breathe our horses and to watch the road on the right bank. After ten
minutes we became uneasy and began to fear that the duke's cavalcade had
passed us, but Max insisted that our fears were groundless.

"Their dust could not have settled so quickly," he declared. "We should
see at least traces of it. They cannot have passed."

"One cannot help believing," said Yolanda, musingly, "that there are men
who command the elements. One would almost say they make the rain to
fall or to cease, the wind to rise or to drop, to suit their purposes,
and the dust to lie quietly beneath their horses' feet. I pray God we
may soon know, else I shall surely die of suspense."

"There are also some persons, Fraeulein, whom God answers quickly," said
Max, looking under his hand down the road. "Do you see yonder
dust-cloud? It is a good two miles back of us."

"It may not be the duke," said Yolanda, doubtingly.

"Let us trust it is," said Max, "and lose no more time here."

We watered our horses at a small brook and entered the forest, feeling
that our race was won. The exultation of victory was upon Yolanda, and
her buoyant spirits mounted to the skies. All fear and gloom had left
her. She laughed and sang, and the sunshine of her humor filled all our
hearts with delight. Since leaving Metz we had travelled so rapidly, and
a cloud of uncertainty and fear was so constantly over us, that Yolanda
had spoken little to Max or to any one; but now that victory was in her
grasp, she intended to waste not one moment more in troubled thoughts
and painful fears.

"Ride beside me, Sir Max," she cried, beckoning him as if she were a
great princess and he her page. Max spurred his horse to he