change her religion and marry again, and
that consequently she declines all further assistance from me? Didn't
this letter come into your hands?"

Benjamin Vajdar shrugged his shoulders and calmly proceeded to squeeze
lemon-juice on his oysters. "I assumed without question," he rejoined,
"that a man of Prince Cagliari's chivalrous nature would merely reply to
this letter: 'It is a matter of indifference to me how the princess
orders her life; but so long as she bears my name she must not be forced
to go on foot and soil her shoes.'"

"Bravo!" cried the prince. "And you would have me give her a dower for
her second marriage, would you, and a quarter's allowance into the
bargain?"

"Let us not discuss that at present," returned the other, "it would only
spoil our evening. Time enough for serious matters to-morrow."

"But I wish to discuss it now."

"Very well. The truth of the matter is, the beautiful Princess Blanka is
at this moment lying dead in the mountains of Transylvania."

The prince recoiled. "Young man, I forbid you to indulge in such
ill-chosen jests."

Benjamin rose and made a low bow. "Such a lack of respect as a jest of
that sort to my master and benefactor is an utter impossibility."

"Well, then, sit down, and let us have no play-acting. Where do you say
this thing occurred?"

"Somewhere on the highway between Nagy-Enyed and Felvincz. She is lying
there in the snow, transfixed with an insurgent's lance." The speaker
therewith proceeded to relate several episodes in the bloody drama then
enacting in Transylvania.

"But why are you so sure that the princess is one of the victims?" asked
the listener.

"The names are all recorded," was the answer. "The first thing,
therefore, for Prince Cagliari to do is to order the recovery of his
wife's body, that it may receive proper interment in his family vault.
If you wish to convince yourself of the truth of my statements, I will
give you the key to the cipher despatches. The despatches themselves you
will find in a place that is always open to you. Go and read for
yourself."

"No, no," cried the prince, "I will not look at the papers. What you
have said is enough for me."

"Very well," rejoined the secretary, quietly. "Then I will go and make
ready to start at once for Transylvania. I am determined to find and
bring back to you the remains of the Princess Blanka. It is a grim task,
and calls for a heart of iron."

"And a purse of gold," added the