r most obedient servant."

She must have noticed my hesitation, for she studied my face an
instant, then said, with a pause between each word and a peculiar
stress on the name:

"General--Smith?"

"Simple Captain," I answered. "We do not climb so rapidly in our Army."

Just then, from the barracks three miles away, came the boom of the
evening gun.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "I am late. I must hasten. Good-bye, _mon
Capitaine_; you have been very kind."

She drew off her gauntlet and extended her hand. I bent and
kissed,--possibly too lingeringly,--the little fingers.

"Farewell, Princess," I said. And then, half under my breath, I added:
"Till we meet again."

She heard, and again that smile. "'_Auf Wiedersehen_' be it," she
answered.

Then she rode away.

I leaned against my horse's shoulder and watched her as she went slowly
down the hill, the full glory of the sinking sun upon her, and the
shadows of the great trees close on either side. Presently there came
a bend in the road and, turning in the saddle, she waved her hand.

I answered with my hat. Then she was gone. That was how I met the
Princess Royal of Valeria. And, unless she has told it (which,
somehow, I doubt), none knows it but ourselves. I had never seen her
since. Perhaps that is why I was quite content for Courtney to win his
bet. Truly, a man's heart does not age with his hair.

III

IN DORNLITZ AGAIN

The declaration of war by Titia had come so suddenly that when Courtney
and I sailed for Europe, the Powers were still in the air and watching
one another. No battle had been fought; but the armies were frowning
at each other on the frontier, and several skirmishes had occurred.

Ostensibly, the trouble was over a slice of territory which Henry the
Third had taken from Titia as an indemnity for some real or fancied
wrongs done him. Valeria, with its great general and powerful army,
was too strong in those days for Titia to do more than protest--and,
then, to take its punishment, which, for some reason that was doubtless
sufficient to him. Henry had seen fit to make as easy as it might be,
by giving his daughter, Adela, to Casimir for wife.

Whether the lady went voluntarily or not I cannot say. Yet it was,
doubtless, the same with both Kings: The one got an unwilling province;
the other, an unwilling bride. Only, Titia's trouble was soonest over.

This ravished Murdol had always been a standing menace to the peace