however ill the fortunes of war fared? There was a swift
current of blood to his heart. The Voiture-verse of a countess faded
away.... Supposing Prince Frederick withdrew his claims? Some day her
Highness would be free; free, without title or money or shelter. It was
a wild dream. Was there not, when all was said, a faint hope for his own
affairs in the fall of Fitzgerald?

She was lonely, friendless, personally known to few. Still, she would be
an Osian princess for all her misfortunes. But an Osian princess was not
so great that love might not possess her. Without royalty she would be
only a woman. What would Austria do; what would Austria say? If Austria
had placed Leopold on the throne, certainly it was to shut out the house
of Auersperg.

And who was this man Beauvais, who served one house openly and another
under the rose? Where had he met him before, and why did the thought
of him cause unrest? To rescue her somehow, to win her love, to see the
glory of the world light the heavens in her eyes! If the dream was mad,
it was no less pleasant.

He was a commoner; he had nothing in the world but his brain and his
arm. Fitzgerald, now, possessed a famous title and an ancient name.
These kings and princes hereabout could boast of but little more than
he; and there were millions to back him. He could dream of princesses
and still be sane. Maurice did not envy the Englishman's riches, but he
coveted his right of way.

How often had he indulged in vain but pleasant dreams! Even in the old
days he was always succoring some proud beauty in distress. Sometimes
it was at sea, sometimes in railroad wrecks, sometimes in the heart of
flames; but he was ever there, like a guardian angel. It was never the
same heroine, but that did not matter; she was always beautiful and
rich, high placed and lovable, and he never failed to brush aside all
obstacles that beset the path to the church door. He had dreamed of
paladins, and here at last was his long-sought opportunity--but he could
do nothing! He laughed. How many such romances lay beneath the banter
and jest of those bald bachelor diplomat friends of his? Had fate
reserved him for one of these?

It was noon when he entered the city of Bleiberg. He went directly to
his hotel, where a bath and a change of clothes took the stiffness from
his limbs. He was in no great hurry to go to the Grand Hotel; there was
plenty of time. Happily there was no mail for him; he was not needed in
V