ong that road on foot. And then we would raise the
guns and shoot at them. And the guns would drop back again, before the
enemy had time to aim at them."

But Hedwig's interest was so evidently assumed that he turned to the
Countess. The Countess professed smiling terror, and stood a little way
back from the guns, looking on. But Prince Ferdinand William Otto at
last coaxed her to the top of the emplacement.

"There's a fine view up there," he urged. "And the guns won't hurt you.
There's nothing in them."

To get up it was necessary to climb an iron ladder. Hedwig was already
there. About a dozen young officers had helped her up, and ruined as
many pairs of white gloves, although Hedwig could climb like a cat, and
really needed no help at all.

"You go up," said the Crown Prince eagerly. "I'll hold your bag, so you
can climb."

He caught her handbag from her, and instantly something snapped in
it. The Countess was climbing up the ladder. Rather dismayed, Prince
Ferdinand William Otto surveyed the bag. Something had broken, he
feared. And in another moment he saw what it was. The little watch which
was set in one side of it had slipped away, leaving a round black hole.
His heart beat a trifle faster.

"I'm awfully worried," he called up to her, as he climbed. "I'm afraid
I've broken your bag. Something clicked, and the watch is gone. It is
not on the ground."

It was well for the Countess that the Colonel was talking to Hedwig.
Well for her, too, that the other officers were standing behind with
their eyes worshipfully on the Princess. The Countess turned gray-white.

"Don't worry, Highness," she said, with stiff lips, "The watch falls
back sometimes. I must have it repaired."

But long after the tour of the ramparts was over, after ammunition-rooms
had been visited, with their long lines of waiting shells, after the
switchboard which controlled the river mines had been inspected and
explained, she was still trembling.

Prince Ferdinand William Otto, looking at the bag later on, saw the
watch in place and drew a long breath of relief.

CHAPTER XVIII. OLD ADELBERT

Old Adelbert of the Opera had lost his position. No longer, a sausage in
his pocket for refreshment, did he leave his little room daily for the
Opera. A young man, who made ogling eyes at Olga, of the garde-robe, and
who was not careful to keep the lenses clean, had taken his place.

He was hurt in his soldier's soul. There was no longer