one ever came for the reward? That is strange. Was immunity
promised?" asked Carmichael.

"It was inferred, but not literally promised."

"Fear kept them away."

"Perhaps. And there is Arnsberg."

"Was he guilty?"

"I never saw _his_ hand anywhere."

"So this is the story! Well, when a man's in love he is, more or less,
in the clutch of temporary insanity." Carmichael's tone wasn't exactly
cheery.

"Insanity! Then you do not judge me harshly?"

"No, Hans. I've a wild streak in me also. But what I can't understand is
why you return and put your head in the lion's mouth. The police will
stumble on something. I tell you frankly that if you are arrested I
could do little or nothing for you. The United States protects only
harmless political outcasts. Yours is a crime such as nullifies your
citizenship, and any government would be compelled, according to the
terms of treaty, to send you back here, if the demand was made for your
extradition."

"I know all that," Grumbach replied, dumping the ash into his palm and
casting it into the paper-basket.

"I suppose that when conscience drives we must go on. But the princess
has been found. The best thing you can do is to put your passports into
immediate use and return to the States. You can do no good here."

"Maybe." Grumbach refilled his pipe, lighted it, and without saying more
went out and down into the street.

Carmichael watched him through the window. Cloud after cloud of smoke
ran wavering behind the exile. He was smoking like one deeply perturbed.

"He's a queer codger, and it's a queer story. I don't believe I have
heard it all, either. What was he really hunting for with those glasses?
I give it up."

He was not angry with Grumbach; rather he seemed to be drawn to him more
closely than ever. Mad with love. That was the phrase. He conned it over
and over; mad with love. That excused many things. How strangely the
chess-men were moved! Had Grumbach not assisted in the abduction, her
highness would in all probability have grown up as other princesses,
artificial, cold, reserved, seldom touched by the fires of animated
thought or action. In fact, had things been otherwise, he never would
have ridden with her highness in the freshness of the morning--or fallen
in love with her. By rights he ought to curse Grumbach; but for him he
would still be captain of his heart. Mad with love! There was no doubt
of it. And the phrase rang in his ear for some time.

Gr