s," I replied. "A carriage is out of the question, and
if we had one there would be a hundred guards to turn us back."

We stepped aside while two military trucks in their gray war-paint
went lurching by. She followed them with her eyes until they disappeared
into the distant haze where poplar and purple sky melted into one.

"Going straight to Robert," she cried, clasping her hands, "and if
they only knew how much I want to go, I don't believe they would
refuse me."

Preposterous as it was, if they could indeed have seen the longing
in her eyes I felt certain they wouldn't either. Discreetly I refrained
from saying so.

We walked slowly back to the partial barricade which compelled
the motors to slow down. A siren heralded the approach of a car. I
drew her aside into the ditch. Wrenching her hand loose she cried:

"I don't care what happens. I'm going to stop this car!" Planting
herself squarely in the path of the great gray thing, she signaled
wildly for it to stop. The goggled driver bore straight down upon the
little figure, then swerving sharply to one side jammed on the
brakes and came to a sudden halt.

"What's the trouble?" said the other occupant of the car, a thick-
set swarthy fellow in a captain's uniform. "Washout, bombs or
Uhlans?"

"No, it's Robert!" Marie exclaimed.

"Robert?" he cried, angered at this delay.

His aroused curiosity took the sting out of his words as he
exclaimed, "Who the devil is Robert?"

She told him who Robert was, told it with her soul naming in her
face. Her voice implored. Her eyes entreated. The black cloud that
had overcast the captain's countenance at the impertinence of her
action melted slowly away into a genial smile. And yet had fortune
been unkind she might have brought us some calculating routinist
with pride in strict obedience to the letter of the military law.

"It's a plain infraction of all the regulations," he said, "but if you can
risk all this for him, I can risk this much for you. Step up," he
added, lifting her into a seat, and giving me a place behind with the
baggage. It had happened all too swiftly for comprehension. We
were on the road to Arcady again--and this time in high estate.
With fifty horses racing away under the hood of our royal car, we
were speeding forward like a bullet.

Adown this road in the days of chivalry traveled oft the noble
chevaliers and knights. In shining cavalcades they rode forth for
glory in their lady's name. But