tation, where I took
a ticket for Dresden.

"Going to see the pictures?" asked George, with a grin.

George is an inveterate gossip, and had I told him that I was off to
Ruritania, the news would have been in London in three days and in Park
Lane in a week. I was, therefore, about to return an evasive answer,
when he saved my conscience by leaving me suddenly and darting across
the platform. Following him with my eyes, I saw him lift his hat and
accost a graceful, fashionably dressed woman who had just appeared from
the booking-office. She was, perhaps, a year or two over thirty, tall,
dark, and of rather full figure. As George talked, I saw her glance at
me, and my vanity was hurt by the thought that, muffled in a fur coat
and a neck-wrapper (for it was a chilly April day) and wearing a soft
travelling hat pulled down to my ears, I must be looking very far from
my best. A moment later, George rejoined me.

"You've got a charming travelling companion," he said. "That's poor Bert
Bertrand's goddess, Antoinette de Mauban, and, like you, she's going to
Dresden--also, no doubt, to see the pictures. It's very queer, though,
that she doesn't at present desire the honour of your acquaintance."

"I didn't ask to be introduced," I observed, a little annoyed.

"Well, I offered to bring you to her; but she said, 'Another time.'
Never mind, old fellow, perhaps there'll be a smash, and you'll have a
chance of rescuing her and cutting out the Duke of Strelsau!"

No smash, however, happened, either to me or to Madame de Mauban. I can
speak for her as confidently as for myself; for when, after a night's
rest in Dresden, I continued my journey, she got into the same train.
Understanding that she wished to be let alone, I avoided her carefully,
but I saw that she went the same way as I did to the very end of my
journey, and I took opportunities of having a good look at her, when I
could do so unobserved.

As soon as we reached the Ruritanian frontier (where the old officer who
presided over the Custom House favoured me with such a stare that I felt
surer than before of my Elphberg physiognomy), I bought the papers, and
found in them news which affected my movements. For some reason, which
was not clearly explained, and seemed to be something of a mystery, the
date of the coronation had been suddenly advanced, and the ceremony was
to take place on the next day but one. The whole country seemed in a
stir about it, and it was evident