we'll
skin the Swiss. My Lord Seneschal, find me fifty thousand men who are
ready to die for a sheepskin. Body of me! A sheepskin! I do love
it well."

Yolanda's audience was roaring with laughter by this time, but her face
was stern and calm.

"Silence, you fools," she cried hoarsely, but no one was silent, and Max
laughed till the tears came to his eyes. Yolanda on her throne was so
irresistibly bewitching that he ran to her side, grasped her about the
waist, and unceremoniously lifted her to the floor. When she was on her
feet, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, saying:--

"Yolanda or Mary--it's all one to me. There is not another like you in
all the world."

She drew herself up haughtily: "Sir, this indignity shall cost you
dear," and turning her back on him she moved away three or four paces.
Then she stopped and glanced over her shoulder. His face had lost its
smile, and she knew the joke had gone far enough; so the dimples began
to cluster about the quivering corners of her mouth, the long black
lashes fell for a moment, a soft radiance came to her eyes, and
she asked:--

"Which shall it be, Sir Max, Yolanda or the princess?"

"Yolanda," cried Max, huskily, while he held out his hands to her. Quick
as the movement of a kitten, she sprang to him and allowed his arms to
close about her for one brief moment. While one might count ten she
rested her head on his breast, but all too quickly she turned her face
to his and whispered:--

"Are you sure? Is it Yolanda?"

"Yes, yes, Yolanda. Thank God! it is Yolanda," he replied, placing his
hand before his eyes. She slipped from his arms, and Max, too deeply
moved to speak, walked over to the window and looked out upon the
frowning walls of Peronne the Impregnable. There was irony for you!

Probably Max was not sure that Yolanda was Yolanda; but, if he was,
conviction had come through his emotions, and it might be temporary. He
was, however, soon to be convinced by evidence so cunningly constructed
that he was compelled to abandon the testimony of his own eyes and
accept that of seemingly incontestable facts.

"We are to dine privately with the duke at twelve o'clock," I said,
while Max was standing at the window.

"Indeed?" asked Yolanda, arching her eyebrows; surprise and displeasure
evident in her voice. She glanced at the great clock, then looked toward
Max, and said:--

"It lacks but thirty minutes of that time now, and I suppose I shall
so