in a clear quiet voice.

The count's eyes returned to their sockets; and he had a sudden
outburst of fluent German. He did not think that any of his hearers
could understand that portion of his native tongue he was using; he
hoped they could not; he could not help it if they did.

Mrs. Dangerfield looked from him to Erebus thoughtfully. She did not
suppose for a moment that it was mere accident that had caused the
count to take so much violent exercise on such a hot day. She was
sorry for him. He looked so fierce and young and inexperienced to fall
foul of the Twins.

Erebus caught her mother's thoughtful eye. At once she cried
resentfully: "How could I possibly tell it was the sunbonnet which made
him think I was the princess? He never asked me who I was. He just
shouted once and ran after me. I was hurrying home to get some salad
oil and get back to the knoll by lunch."

"Yes, you would run all the way," said Mrs. Dangerfield patiently.

"Well, you'd have run, too, Mum, with a foreigner running after you!
Just look at that mustache! It would frighten anybody!" cried Erebus
in the tone of one deeply aggrieved by unjust injurious suspicions.

"Yes, I see," said her mother with undiminished patience.

She invited the count to come in and rest and get cool; and she allayed
his fine thirst with a long and very grateful whisky and soda. He
explained to her at length, three times, how he had come to mistake
Erebus for the flying princess, for he was exceedingly anxious not to
appear foolish in the eyes of such a pretty woman. Erebus left them
together; she made a point of taking a small bottle of salad oil to the
knoll. They had no use for salad oil indeed; but it had been an
after-thought, and she owed it to her conscience to take it. That
would be the safe course.

In the meantime the archduke was sitting impatiently in the car,
looking frequently at his watch. He had expected the count to return
with the princess in, at the longest, a quarter of an hour. Then he
had expected Miss Lambart and Sir Maurice to return with the count and
the princess in, at the longest, a quarter of an hour. None of them
returned. The princess was sitting on a heap of bracken in the highest
of the secret caves, and the Terror was taking advantage of this
enforced quiet retirement to brush out her hair. The count sat
drinking whisky and soda and explained to Mrs. Dangerfield that he had
not really been deceived by the