ficantly.

"Nothing. But God send that no chambermaid change the sheet in my bed at
the hotel."

"Are they--"

"Silence." Fitzgerald saw the trooper next with his hand to his ear.

After a time the Colonel sang out: "Fifteen miles more, with three on
the other side, men; we must put more life into us. A trot for a few
miles. The quicker the ride is done, baron, the quicker the surgeon will
look to your arm."

And silence fell upon the troop. Occasionally a stray horse in the
fields whinneyed, and was answered from the road; sometimes the howl of
a dog broke the monotony. On and on they rode; hour and mile were left
behind them. The moon fell lower and lower, and the mountains rose
higher and higher, and the wind which had risen had a frosty sting to
it. Maurice now began to show the true state of his temper by cursing
his horse whenever it rubbed against one of its fellows. His back was
lame, and there was a dull pain in one of his shoulders. When he had
made the rush for the door, clubbing right and left with the empty
revolvers, he had finally been thrown on an overturned chair.

"Here, hang you!" he said to the trooper who held the bridle of his
horse, "I'm cold; you might at least turn up my collar about my throat."

"You are welcome to my cloak," said the trooper, disengaging that
article from his shoulders.

"Thank you," said Maurice, somewhat abashed by the respectful tone.

The trooper offered his blanket to Fitzgerald.

"I wish no favors," said the Englishman, thanklessly.

The trooper shrugged, and caught up Maurice's bridle.

At length the troop arrived at the frontier. There was no sign of life
at the barrack. They passed unchallenged.

"What!" exclaimed Maurice, "do they sleep here at night, then? A fine
frontier barrack." He had lived in hopes of more disturbance and a
possible chance for liberty.

"They will wake up to-day," answered the Colonel; "that is, if the wine
we gave them was not too strong. Poor devils; they must be good and cold
by this time, since we have their clothes. What do you think of a king
whose soldiers drink with any strangers who chance along?"

Maurice became resigned. To him the present dynasty was as fragile as
glass, and it needed but one strong blow to shatter it into atoms. And
the one hope rode at his side, sullen and wrathful, but impotent; the
one hope the king had to save his throne. He had come to Bleiberg in
search of excitement, but this was altogether