almost jerked from his feet, half choked, half paralysed with alarm. Not
a word was spoken. Chase whirled the presumptuous suitor about until he
faced the gates to the garden. Then, with more force than he realised,
he applied his boot to the person of the offender--once, twice, thrice!
The military jacket of the recipient of these attentions was of the
abbreviated European pattern and the trousers were skin tight.

The Princess started back with a cry of alarm--ay, terror. The onslaught
was so sudden, so powerless to avert, that it seemed like a visitation
of wrath from above. She stared, wide-eyed and unbelieving, upon the
brief tragedy; she saw her tormentor hurled viciously toward the gates
and then, with new alarm, saw him pick himself up from the ground,
writhing with pain and anger. His sword flashed from its scabbard as,
with a scream of rage, he dashed upon the tall intruder. She saw
Chase--even in the shadows she knew him to be the American--she saw
Chase lightly leap aside, avoiding the thrust for his heart. Then, as if
he were playing with a child, he wrested the weapon from the conductor's
hand, snapped the blade in two pieces and threw them off into the
bushes.

"Skip!" was his only word. It was a command that no one in Rapp-Thorberg
ever had heard before.

"You shall pay for this!" screamed the conductor, tugging at his collar.
"Scoundrel! Dog! Beast! What do you mean! Murderer! Robber! Assassin!"

"You know what I mean, you little shrimp!" roared Chase. "Skip! Don't
hang around here a second longer or I'll--" and he took a threatening
step toward his adversary. The latter was discreet, if not actually a
coward. He turned tail and ran twenty paces or more in heartbreaking
time; then, realising that he was not pursued, stopped and shook his
fist at his assailant.

"Come, Genevra," he gasped, but she remained as if rooted to the spot.
He waited an instant, and then walked rapidly away in the direction of
the palace, his back as straight as a ramrod, but his legs a trifle
unsteady. The trio watched him for a full minute, speech-bound now that
the deed was done and the consequences were to be considered. Baggs
grasped Chase by the shoulder, shook him and exclaimed, when it was too
late:

"You blooming ass, do you know what you've done?"

"The da--miserable cur was annoying the Princess," muttered Chase,
straightening his cuffs, vaguely realising that he had interfered too
hastily.

"Confound it, m