that ensanguined arena.

Proudly proceeded the lady on the white horse, although in her eyes
shone a look of dread. It was an age when women were accustomed to
scenes of bloodshed, inured to conflicts in the lists; yet she
shuddered as her palfrey picked its way across that field. At the near
side of the hollow her glance singled out a motionless figure among
those lying where they had fallen, a thick-set man, whose face was
upturned to the sky. One look into those glassy eyes, so unresponsive
to her own, and she quickly dismounted and fell on her knees beside the
recumbent form. She took one of the cold hands in hers, but dropped it
with a scream.

"Dead!" she cried; "dead!"

The lady stared at that terribly repulsive face. For some moments she
seemed dazed; sat there dully, the onlookers forbearing to disturb her.
Then her gaze encountered that of him who had slain the free baron and
she sprang to her feet. On her features an expression of bewilderment
had been followed by one of recognition.

"The duke's fool!" she exclaimed wildly. "He is dead, and you have
killed him! The fool has murdered his master."

"It is true he is dead," answered the other, leaning heavily on his
sword and surveying the inanimate form, "but he was no master of mine."

"That, Madame la Princesse, we will also affirm," broke in an austere
voice.

Behind them rode the emperor, a dark figure among those bright gowns
and golden trappings, the saddle cloth and adornments of his steed
somber as his own garments. As he spoke he waved back the cavalcade,
and, in obedience to the gesture, the ladies, soldiers and attendants
withdrew to a discreet distance. Bitterly the princess surveyed the
monarch; overwrought, a torrent of reproaches sprang from her lips.

"Why has your Majesty made war on my lord? Why have you countenanced
his enemies and harbored his murderers?" And then, drawing her figure
to its full height, her tawny hair falling in a cloud about her
shoulders: "Be sure, Sire, my kinsman, the king, will know how to
avenge my wrongs."

"He can not, Madam," answered Charles coldly. "They are already
avenged."

"Already avenged!" she exclaimed, with her gaze upon the prostrate
figure.

"Yes, Madam. For he who hath injured you has paid the extreme penalty."

"He who was my husband has been foully murdered!" she retorted,
vehemently. "What had the Duke of Friedwald done to bring upon himself
your Majesty's displeasure?