on your arm in the old days."

He sank back in his chair. Silence, during which the smoke thickened
and the pup whined softly in his sleep. Out upon the night the
cathedral bell boomed the third hour of morning.

"If you don't mind, Artie," said Max, yawning, "I'll turn in. I've
been traveling for the past fortnight."

"Take a ride on Dandy in the morning. He'll hold your weight nicely.
I can't go with you, as I've a lame ankle."

"I'll be in the saddle at dawn. All I need is a couple of hours
between sheets."

As I prodded my pillow into a comfortable wad under my cheek I wondered
where I had seen that particular brand. It was a brand. I knew that I
had seen it somewhere, but my memory danced away when I endeavored to
halter it. Soon I fell asleep, dreaming of somebody who wasn't Max
Scharfenstein, by a long shot.

V

That same evening the grand duke's valet knocked on the door leading
into the princess' apartments, and when the door opened he gravely
announced that his serene Highness desired to speak to the Princess
Hildegarde. It was a command. For some reason, known best to herself,
the princess chose to obey it.

"Say that I shall be there presently," she said, dismissing the valet.

As she entered her uncle's study--so called because of its dust-laden
bookshelves, though the duke sometimes disturbed their contents to
steady the leg of an unbalanced chair or table--he laid down his pipe
and dismissed his small company of card-players.

"I did not expect to see you so soon," he began. "A woman's curiosity
sometimes has its value. It takes little to arouse it, but a great
deal to allay it."

"You have not summoned me to make smart speeches, simply because I have
been educated up to them?"--truculently.

"No. I have not summoned you to talk smart, a word much in evidence in
Barscheit since your return from England. For once I am going to use a
woman's prerogative. I have changed my mind."

The Princess Hildegarde trembled with delight. She could put but one
meaning to his words.

"The marriage will not take place next month."

"Uncle!"--rapturously.

"Wait a moment,"--grimly. "It shall take place next week."

"I warn you not to force me to the altar," cried the girl, trembling
this time with a cold fury.

"My child, you are too young in spirit and too old in mind to be
allowed a gateless pasture. In harness you will do very well." He
took up his pipe and primed it. It