lt," said Maurice, slapping it against his leg. "No harm done to
the hat. Well, good day to you, Lieutenant, and thanks. I must be off."

"Nay, nay!" cried the Lieutenant. "Wait a moment. `There is a tide in
the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood--' How does that line go?
I was educated in England and speak English as I do my mother tongue--"

"Won't you let me go?" asked Maurice. "Look at my clothes."

"You ought to be thankful that they are dry this time. Come; you'll have
a good story to carry back to Vienna. Princesses do not eat people."

"No," said Maurice.

"Ye gods, listen to that! One would think by the tone of your voice that
you wished they did!"

There was no resisting this good humor; and Maurice wanted only an
excuse to wait. He sat down on the steps, sucked the knuckles of his
hand, and contemplated the grin on the cuirassier's face.

"I like you," said the Lieutenant; "I like your sangfroid. The palace is
a devil of a dull place, and a new face is a positive relief. I suppose
you know that affairs here are bad; no honesty anywhere. Everybody has
his hands tied. The students know this, and do as they please. Think of
two hundred gendarmes in the city, and an affair like this takes place
without one of them turning up!

"I tell you frankly that it is all I can do to withhold the edge of my
saber when I meet those students. Last night they held a noisy flambeau
procession around the Hohenstaufenplatz, knowing full well that the king
had had another stroke and quiet was necessary. They would have waked
the dead. I have an idea that I forgot to use the flat of my sword; at
least, the hospital report confirms my suspicions. Ah, here comes Max."

"Her Royal Highness desires to thank Monsieur Carewe, and commands that
he be brought to her carriage."

Lieutenant von Mitter smiled, and Maurice stood up and brushed himself.
The troopers sprang into the saddle and started on a walk, with Maurice
bringing up behind on foot. The thought of meeting the princess,
together with his recent exertions, created havoc with his nerves. When
he arrived at the royal carriage, his usual coolness forsook him. He
fumbled with his hat, tongue-tied. He stood in the Presence.

"Monsieur," said the Voice, "I thank you with all my heart for your
gallant service. Poor, poor dog!"

"It was nothing, your Highness; any man would have done the same thing."
The red in the wheel-spokes bothered his eyes.

"No, no! you must