the
various tables lay photographs of the princess' last journey. He was
informed that the princess would be ready immediately.

She made her appearance in a kind of Hungarian or Polish costume; for
the November weather was chilly, and unusually so that day. She wore a
tightly fitting velvet gown, with sable-edged tunic, reaching to the
knee; and her hair was loosely coiled beneath a large hat, also trimmed
with sable, to match the dress.

She gave him her white-gloved hand, half hidden by the lace and sable
trimmings of the dress, with a firm, trustful confidence, to which her
eyes, her face, and every curve of her fine figure seemed, as it were,
to bear approving testimony. "It was to be!" At any rate, it seemed to
him that she was anxious to show a greater confidence than she actually
felt, and this impression was confirmed when, immediately afterwards,
she suggested gently that, perhaps, after all, the drive had better be
postponed; the horses might still be nervous and fidgety from their
railway journey.

Mansana, however, calmly put aside her fears with a frigid pleasantry.
She scrutinised his face, always singularly hard to read, but beyond
the expression of strained suffering which it bore, it revealed
nothing; his manner was respectful, but more peremptory than it had
been of late. The companion made her appearance just at the moment that
the carriage and horses were announced. He offered the princess his
arm; she accepted it, and as they went down the stairs, looked up in
his face again, and fancied that she saw a gleam of triumph in his
eyes. A little nervously she seized a moment when the restive horses
were being quieted, before they stepped into the carriage, and said
again:

"It is certainly too soon after their journey to be driving them. Would
it not be better to postpone the expedition?"

Her voice implored him, and, with her hand laid beseechingly on his
arm, she looked trustfully into his eyes. Under her glance his face
changed ominously, and a dark look came into his eyes.

"I might have expected that you would be afraid to drive with me a
second time!"

She felt the taunt. With cheeks burning crimson, she sprang into the
carriage; the companion followed her, pale as death, but stiff and
unbending as a bar of iron, whilst Mansana, with one bound, leapt to
the box-seat. There was no place for a groom, the carriage being only a
light curricle.

From the moment the horses received the signal