er, she smiled as she generously held out her hand.

"You are forgiven," she said graciously. "I am only a trifle shaken.
Will you kindly take me to my castle in your car, as I do not wish my
people to worry?"

Nothing could have more tactfully displaced Carter's self-censure than
this expressed wish of hers. Seeing that she was still weak he gravely
offered his arm for her support.

Lightly she placed her gauntleted hand upon his elbow, but soft as that
touch was, no other woman had so thrilled him.

"To whom am I indebted, monsieur?" she asked with native curiosity.

"Calvert Carter, of New York, mademoiselle, is indebted to you for
overlooking the accident he has caused."

"Mr. Carter," she added in delicious English, "the Duchess of Schallberg
is grateful for your kindness. The question of indebtedness we will not
pursue. It is not a good basis of friendship."

This was the Duchess of Schallberg; the possible aspirant to its throne?

"You--you are Trusia?" he stammered.

"I am the Lady Trusia," she corrected gently.

VI

THE GRAY MAN AGAIN

"Which wye?" asked Carrick who, having started the auto, kept his eyes
steadily on the road in front of him and shot the question over his
shoulder.

"Straight ahead. The lady is unconscious again."

This was true, for as they entered the car Carter had been just in time
to catch the Lady Trusia in his arms as she toppled forward in a sudden
return of the fainting spell.

"Why not back to the inn, sir?"

Carrick's suggestion betrayed that he shared his companion's concern for
Her Grace of Schallberg.

"I'd rather not. We are not popular there and I feel present conditions
would hardly increase their friendship. We'll try the castle. I fancy
that's her home, anyhow."

He glanced up to where, distinctly outlined, its towers in the clouds,
they beheld the grim structure, recognizable from its significant
location as the one they had espied from the thither side of the forest.

"Where's the wye to it?" The chauffeur was puzzled, for straight before
them the cliff ran perpendicular to the side of the road, without an
apparent break. "Must be on the other side, sir, for blyme it's not on
this."

"More speed then, Carrick. This faint promises to last awhile."

Carter bent over the unconscious Trusia, and, as he noted the powerful
effort of her strong soul to beat off the paralysis of the senses, a
thrill of tenderness shot through him.

For a man wit