sh child! What a terrible thing this might have turned out
to be!"

"What do you mean?"

"Mean? Do you suppose anything like this could take place without my
hearing of it? And such a dishonest unscrupulous rascal! Some day I
shall thank the American consul personally for his part in the affair.
I was waiting to see when you would produce this. You virtually placed
your honor and reputation, which I know to be above reproach, into the
keeping of a man who would sell his soul for a thousand crowns."

The girl felt her knees give way, and she sat down. Tears slowly
welled up in her eyes and overflowed, blurring everything.

The duke got up and went over to his desk, rummaging among the papers.
He returned to the girl with a letter.

"Read that, and learn the treachery of the man you trusted."

The letter was written by Steinbock. In it he disclosed all. It was a
venomous, inciting letter. The girl crushed it in her hand.

"Is he dead?" she asked, all the bitterness in her heart surging to her
lips.

"To Barscheit,"--briefly. "Now, what shall I do with this?"--tapping
the bogus certificate.

"Give it to me," said the girl wearily. She ripped it into halves,
into quarters, into infinitesimal squares, and tossed them into the
waste-basket. "I am the unhappiest girl in the world."

"I am sorry," replied the grand duke. "It isn't as if I had forced
Doppelkinn on you without first letting you have your choice. You have
rejected the princes of a dozen wealthy countries. We are not as the
common people; we can not marry where we will. I shall announce that
the marriage will take place next week."

"Do not send my friend away," she pleaded, apparently tamed.

"I will promise to give the matter thought. Good night."

She turned away without a word and left him. When he roared at her she
knew by experience that he was harmless; but this quiet determination
meant the exclusion of any further argument. There was no escape
unless she ran away. She wept on her pillow that night, not so much at
the thought of wedding Doppelkinn as at the fact that Prince Charming
had evidently missed the last train and was never coming to wake her
up, or, if he did come, it would be when it was too late. How many
times had she conjured him up, as she rode in the fresh fairness of the
mornings! How manly he was and how his voice thrilled her! Her horse
was suddenly to run away, he was to rescue her, and then demand he