as intense
in all her joys and griefs.

"Did Sir Max tell you who he is?" asked Castleman, stopping in front of
Yolanda.

"No," she replied, "I will tell you some day how I guessed it. He does
not know that I know, and I would not have you tell him."

"Tell me, Yolanda," demanded Castleman, "what has passed between you and
this Sir Max?"

"Nothing, uncle, save that I know--ah, uncle, there is nothing. God pity
me, there can be nothing. Whatever his great, true heart feels may be
known to me as surely as if he had spoken a thousand vows, but he would
not of his own accord so much as touch my hand or speak his love. He
knows that one in his station may not mate with a burgher girl. He
treats me as a true knight should treat a woman, and if he feels pain
because of the gulf between us, he would not bring a like pain to me. He
is a strong, noble man, Uncle Castleman, and we must save him."

"If I knew where to begin, I would try at once," said Castleman, "but I
do not know, and I cannot think of--"

"I have a plan," interrupted Yolanda, "that will set the matter going.
Consult my Lord d'Hymbercourt; he is a friend of Sir Karl's; he may help
us. Tell him of the trouble at the bridge, but say that Twonette, not
I, was there. If Lord d'Hymbercourt cannot help us, I'll try another way
if I die for it."

Castleman found Hymbercourt and told him the whole story, substituting
Twonette for Yolanda.

"It is the work of that accursed Basso," said Hymbercourt, stroking his
beard. "No villany is too black for him and his minions to do."

"But what have they done?" asked Castleman. "They surely would not
murder these men because of the quarrel at the bridge."

"They would do murder for half that cause," replied Hymbercourt. "A
brave man hates an assassin, and I am always wondering why the duke, who
is so bold and courageous, keeps this band of Italian cut-throats at
his court."

"What can we do to rescue our friends if they still live, or to avenge
them if dead?" asked Castleman.

"I do not know," answered Hymbercourt. "Let me think it all over, and I
will see you at your house to-night. Of this I am certain: you must not
move in the matter. If you are known to be interested, certain facts may
leak out that would ruin you and perhaps bring trouble to one who
already bears a burden too heavy for young shoulders. We know but one
useful fact: Calli and Campo-Basso are at the bottom of this evil. The
duke suspects that the s