THE EAGLE'S EYRIE
So she had gone on her knees to him after all--or almost! She was glad
her mother did not know. And she hoped that he did not feel the
pulsing of the blood in her fingers, as he took her hand and lifted
her to her feet. There was shame in this tempest that swept through
her veins, because he did not share it; for to her, though this
meeting was an epoch, to him it was no more than a trivial incident.
She would have keyed his emotions to hers, if she could, but since she
had had years of preparation, he a single moment, perhaps she might
have been consoled for the disparity, could she have read his eyes.
They said, if she had known: "Is the sky raining goddesses to-day?"
Now, what were to be her first words to him? Dimly she felt, that if
she were to profit by this wonderful chance to know the man and not
the Emperor--this chance which might be lost in a few moments, unless
her wit befriended her--those words should be beyond the common. She
should be able to marshal her sentences, as a general marshals his
battalions, with a plan of campaign for each.
A spirit monitor--a match-making monitor--whispered these wise advices
in her ear; yet she was powerless to profit by them. Like a
school-girl about to be examined for a scholarship, knowing that all
the future might depend upon an hour of the present, the dire need to
be resourceful, to be brilliant, left her dumb.
How many times had she not thought of her first conversation with
Leopold of Rhaetia, planning the first words, the first looks, which
must make him know that she was different from any other girl he had
ever met! Yet here she stood, speechless, epigrams turning tail and
racing away from her like a troop of playful colts refusing to be
caught.
And so it was the Emperor who spoke before Virginia's _savoir faire_
came back.
"I hope you're not hurt?" asked the chamois hunter, in the _patois_
dear to the heart of Rhaetian mountain folk.
She had been glad before, now she was thankful that she had spent many
weeks and months in loving study of the tongue which was Leopold's. It
was not the _métier_ of a chamois hunter to speak English, though the
Emperor was said to know the language well, and she rejoiced in her
ability to answer the chamois hunter as he would be answered, keeping
up the play.
"I am hurt only in the pride that comes before a fall," she replied,
forcing a laugh. "Thank you many times for saving me."
"I feared that I frightened you, and made you lose your footing," the
chamois hunter answered.
"I think on the contrary, if it hadn't been for you I should have lost
my life," said Virginia. "There should be a sign put up on that
tempting plateau, 'All except suicides beware.'"
"The necessity never occurred to us, my mates and me," returned the
man in the gray coat, passemoiled with green. "Until you came, gna'
Fräulein, no tourist that I know of, has found it tempting."
Virginia's eyes lit with a sudden spark. The spirit monitor--that
match-making monitor--came back and dared her to a frolic, such a
frolic, she thought, as no girl on earth had ever had, or would have,
after her. And she could show this grave, soldier-hero of hers,
something new in life--something quite new, which it would not harm
him to know. Then, let come what would out of this adventure, at worst
she should always have an Olympian episode to remember.
"Until _I_ came?" she caught up his words, standing carefully on the
spot where he had placed her. "But I am no tourist; I am an explorer."
He lifted level, dark eyebrows, smiling faintly. And when he smiled,
half his austerity was gone.
So beautiful a girl as this need not rise beyond agreeable
commonplaceness of mind and speech to please a man; indeed, this
particular chamois hunter expected no more than good looks, a good
heart and a nice manner, from women. Yet this beauty bade fair, it
seemed, to hold surprises in reserve.
"I have brought down noble game to-day," he said to himself; and
aloud; "I know the Schneehorn well, and love it well. Still I can't
see what rewards it has for the explorer. Unless, gna' Fräulein, you
are a climber or a geologist."
"I'm neither; yet I think I have seen something, a most rare thing,
I've wanted all my life to see."
The young man's face confessed curiosity. "Indeed? A rare thing that
lives here on the mountain?"
"I am not sure if it lives here. I should like to find out," replied
the girl.
"Might one inquire the name of this rare thing?" asked the chamois
hunter. "Perhaps, if I knew, it might turn out that I could help you
in the search. But first, if you'd let me lead you to the plateau,
where I think you were going? Here, your head might still grow a
little giddy, and it's not well to keep you standing, gna' Fräulein,
on such a spot. You've passed all the worst now. The rest is easy."
She gave him her hand, pleasing herself by fancying the act a kind of
allegory, as she let him lead her to safe and pleasant places, on a
higher, sunnier level.
"Perhaps the rare thing grows here," the chamois hunter went on,
looking about the green plateau with a new interest.
"I think not," Virginia answered, shaking her head. "It would thrive
better nearer the mountain top, in a more hidden place than this. It
does not love tourists."
"Nor do I, in truth," smiled the chamois hunter.
"You took me for one."
"Pardon, gna' Fräulein. Not the kind of tourist we both mean."
"Thank you."
"But you have not said if I might help you in your search. This is a
wild region for a young lady to be exploring in, alone."
"I feel sure," responded the Princess, graciously, "that if you really
would, you could help me as well as any one in Rhaetia."
"You are kind indeed to say so, though I don't know how I have
deserved the compliment."
"Did it sound like a compliment? Well, leave it so. I meant, because
you are at home in these high altitudes; and the rare thing I speak of
is a plant that grows in high places. It is said to be found only in
Rhaetian mountains, though I have never heard of any one who has been
able to track it down."
"Is it our pink Rhaetian edelweiss of which we are so proud? Because
if it is, and you will trust me, I know exactly where to take you, to
find it. With my help, you could climb there from here in a few
moments."
She shook her head again, smiling inscrutably. "Thank you, it's not
the pink edelweiss. The scientific, the esoteric name, I've promised
that I'll tell to no one; but the common people in my native country,
who have heard of it, would call the plant _Edelmann_."
"You have already seen it on the mountain, but not growing?"
"Some chamois hunter, like yourself, had dropped it, perhaps, not
knowing what its value was. It's a great deal to have had one
glimpse--worth running into danger for."
"Perhaps, gna' Fräulein, you don't realize to the full the danger you
did run. No chance was worth it, believe me."
"You--a chamois hunter--say that."
"But I'm a man. You are a woman; and women should keep to beaten paths
and safety."
The Princess laughed. "I shouldn't wonder," said she, "if that's a
Rhaetian theory--a Rhaetian _man's_ theory. I've heard, your Emperor
holds it."
"Who told you that, gna' Fräulein?" He gave her a sharp glance, but
her gray eyes looked innocent of guile, and were therefore at their
most dangerous.
"Oh, many people have told me. Cats may look at kings, and the most
insignificant persons may talk of Emperors. I've heard many things of
yours."
"Good things or bad?"
"No doubt such things as he truly deserves. Now can you guess which?
But perhaps I would tell you without your guessing, if I were not so
very, very hungry." She glanced at the pocket of his coat, from which
protruded a generous hunch of black bread and ham--thrust in probably,
at the instant when she had called for help. "I can't help seeing that
you have your luncheon with you. Do you want it all," (she carefully
ignored the contents of her rücksack, which she could not well have
forgotten) "or--would you share it?"
The chamois hunter looked surprised, though not displeased. But then,
this was his first experience of a feminine explorer, and he quickly
rose to the occasion.
"There is more, much more bread and bacon where this came from," he
replied. "Will you be graciously pleased to accept something of our
best?"
"If _you_ please, then I too shall be pleased," she said. Guiltily,
she remembered Miss Portman. But the dear Letitia could not be
considered now. If she were alarmed, she should be well consoled
later.
"I and some friends of mine have a--a sort of hut round the corner
from this plateau, and a short distance on," announced the chamois
hunter, with a gesture that gave the direction. "No woman has ever
been our guest, but I invite you to visit it and lunch there. Or, if
you prefer, remain here and in a few minutes I will bring such food as
we can offer. At best it's not much to boast of. We chamois hunters
are poor men, living roughly."
The Princess smiled, imprisoning each new thought of mischief which
flew into her mind, like a trapped bird. "I've heard you're rich in
hospitality," she said. "I'll go with you to your hut, for it will be
a chance to prove the saying."
The eyes of the hunter--dark, brilliant and keen as the eagle's to
which she compared him--pierced hers. "You have no fear?" he asked.
"You are a young girl, alone, save for me, in a desolate place. For
all you know, my mates and I may be a band of brigands."
"Baedeker doesn't mention the existence of brigands in these days,
among the Rhaetian Alps," replied Virginia, with quaint dryness. "I've
always found him trustworthy. Besides, I've great faith in the
chivalry of Rhaetian men; and if you knew how hungry I am, you
wouldn't keep me waiting for talk of brigands. Bread and butter are
far more to the point."
"Even search for the rare Edelmann may wait?"
"Yes. The Edelmann may wait--on me." The last two words she dared but
to whisper.
"You must pardon my going first," said the man with the bare brown
knees. "The way is too narrow for politeness."
"Yet I wish that the peasants at home had such courteous manners as
yours," Virginia patronized him, prettily. "You Rhaetians need not go
to court, I see, for lessons in behavior."
"The mountains teach us something, maybe."
"Something of their greatness, which we should all do well to learn.
But have you never lived in a town?"
"A man of my sort _exists_ in a town. He lives in the mountains." With
this diplomatic response, the tall figure swung round a corner formed
by a boulder of rock, and Virginia gave a little cry of surprise. The
"hut" of which the chamois hunter had spoken was revealed by the turn,
and it was of an unexpected and striking description. Instead of the
humble erection of stones and wood which she had counted on, the rocky
side of the mountain itself had been coaxed to give her sons a
shelter.
A doorway, and large square openings for windows, had been cut in the
red-veined, purplish-brown porphyry; while a heavy slab of oak, and
wooden frames filled full of glittering bottle-glass, protected such
rooms as might have been hollowed out within, from storm or cold.
Even had Virginia been ignorant of her host's identity, she would have
been wise enough to guess that here was no Sennhütte, or ordinary
abode of common peasants, who hunt the chamois for a precarious
livelihood. The work of hewing out in the solid rock a habitation such
as this must have cost more than most Rhaetian chamois hunters would
save in many a year. But her wisdom also counseled her to express no
further surprise after her first exclamation.
"My mates are away for the time, though they may come back by and by,"
the man explained, holding the heavy oaken door that she might pass
into the room within; and though she was not invited to further
exploration, she was able to see by the several doorways cut in the
rock walls, that this was not the sole accommodation the strange house
could boast.
On the rock floor, rugs of deer and chamois skin were spread; in a
rack of oak, ornamented with splendid antlers and studded with the
sharp, pointed horns of the chamois, were suspended guns of modern
make, and brightly polished, formidable hunting knives. The table in
the center of the room had been carved with admirable skill; and the
half-dozen chairs were oddly fashioned of stags' antlers, shaped to
hold fur-cushioned, wooden seats. A carved dresser of black oak held a
store of the coarse blue, red and green china made by peasants in the
valley below, through which Virginia had driven yesterday; and these
bright colored dishes were eked out with platters and great tankards
of old pewter, while in the deep fireplace a gipsy kettle swung over a
bed of fragrant pinewood embers.
"This is a delightful place--fit for a king, or even for an Emperor,"
said Virginia, when the bare-kneed chamois hunter had offered her a
chair near the fire, and crossed the room to open the closed cupboard
under the dresser shelves.
He was stooping as she spoke, but at her last words looked round over
his shoulder.
"We mountain men aren't afraid of a little work--when it's for our own
comfort," he replied. "And most of the things you see here are
home-made, during the long winters."
"Then you are all very clever indeed. But this place is interesting;
tell me, has the Emperor ever been your guest here? I've read--let me
see, could it have been in a guide-book or in some paper?--that he
comes occasionally to this northern range of mountains."
"Oh yes, the Emperor has been at our hut several times. He's good
enough to approve it." Her host answered calmly, laying a loaf of
black bread, a fine seeded cheese, and a knuckle of ham on the table.
He then glanced at his guest, expecting her to come forward; but she
sat still on her throne of antlers, her small feet in their sensible
mountain boots, daintily crossed under the short tweed skirt.
"I hear he also is a good chamois hunter," she carelessly went on.
"But that, perhaps, is only the flattery which makes the atmosphere of
Royalty. No doubt you, for instance, could really give him many
points in chamois hunting?"
The young man smiled. "The Emperor's not a bad shot."
"For an amateur. But you're a professional. I wager now, that you
wouldn't for the world change places with the Emperor?"
How the chamois hunter laughed at this, and showed his white teeth!
There were those, in the towns he scorned, who would have been
astonished at his light-hearted mirth.
"Change places with the Emperor! Not--unless I were obliged, gna'
Fräulein. Not now, at all events," with a complimentary bow and
glance.
"Thank you. You're quite a courtier. And that reminds me of another
thing they say of him in my country. The story is, that he dislikes
the society of women. But perhaps it is that he doesn't understand
them."
"It is possible, lady. But I never heard that they were so difficult
of comprehension."
"Ah, that shows how little you chamois hunters have had time to learn.
Why, we can't even understand ourselves, or know what we're most
likely to do next. And yet--a very odd thing--we have no difficulty
in reading one another, and knowing all each other's weaknesses."
"That would seem to say that a man should get a woman to choose his
wife for him."
"I'm not so sure it would be wise. Yet your Emperor, we hear, will let
the Chancellor choose his."
"Ah! were you told this also in your country?"
"Yes. For the gossip is that she's an English Princess. Now, what's
the good of being a powerful Emperor, if he can't even pick out a wife
to please his own taste?"
"I know nothing about such high matters, gna' Fräulein. But I fancied
that Royal folk took wives to please their people rather than
themselves. It's their duty to marry, you know. And if the lady be of
Royal blood, virtuous, of the right religion, not too sharp-tempered,
and pleasant to look at, why--those are the principal things to
consider, I should suppose."
"So should I _not_ suppose, if I were a man, and--Emperor. I should
want the pleasure of falling in love."
"Safer not, gna' Fräulein. He might fall in love with the wrong
woman." And the chamois hunter looked with half shamed intentness
into his guest's sweet eyes.
She blushed under his gaze, and was so conscious of the hot color,
that she retorted at random. "I doubt if he _could_ fall in love. A
man who would let his Chancellor choose for him! He can have no warm
blood in his veins."
"There I think you wrong him, lady," the answer came quickly. "The
Emperor is--a man. But it may be he has found other interests in his
life more important than woman."
"Bringing down chamois, for instance. You would sympathize there."
"Chamois give good sport. They're hard to find. Harder still to hit
when you have found them."
"So are the best types of women. Those who, like the chamois (and the
plant I spoke of) live only in high places. Oh, for the sake of my
sex, I do hope that some day your Emperor will change his mind--that a
woman will _make_ him change it."
"Perhaps a woman has--already."
Virginia grew pale. Was she too late? Or was this a concealed
compliment which the chamois hunter did not guess she had the clue to
find? She could not answer. The silence between the two became
electrical, and the young man broke it, at last, with some slight
signs of confusion.
"It's a pity," said he, "that our Emperor can't hear you. He might be
converted to your views."
"Or he might clap me into prison for _lèse majesté_."
"He wouldn't do that, gna' Fräulein--if he's anything like me."
"Anything like you? Why, now you put me in mind of it, he's not unlike
you--in appearance, I mean, judging by his portraits."
"You have seen his portraits?"
"Yes, I've seen some. I really think you must be a little like him,
only browner and taller, perhaps. Yet I'm glad that you're a chamois
hunter and not an Emperor--almost as glad as _you_ can be."
"Will you tell me why, lady?"
"Oh, for one reason, because I couldn't possibly ask him, if he were
here in your place, what I'm going to ask of you. You've very kindly
laid the bread and ham ready, but you forgot to cut them."
"A thousand pardons. Our talk has set my wits wool-gathering. My mind
should have been on my manners, instead of on such far off things as
Emperors and their love affairs."
He began hewing at the big loaf as if it were an enemy to be
conquered. And there were few in Rhaetia who had ever seen those dark
eyes so bright.
"I like ham and bread cut thin, please," said the Princess.
"There--that's better. I'll sit here if you'll bring the things to me,
for I find that I'm tired; and you are very kind."
"A draught of our Rhaetian beer will do you more good than anything,"
suggested the hunter, taking up the plate of bread and ham he had
tried hard to cut according to her taste, placing it in her lap and
going back to draw a tankard of foaming amber liquid from a quaint
hogshead in a corner.
But Virginia waved the froth-crowned pewter away with a smile and a
pretty gesture. "My head has already proved not strong enough for your
mountains. I'm sure it isn't strong enough for your beer. Have you
some nice cold water?"
The young man laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "Our water here is
fit only for the outside of the body," he explained. "To us, that's no
great deprivation, as we're all true Rhaetians for our beer. But now,
on your account, I'm sorry."
"Perhaps you have some milk?" suggested Virginia. "I love milk. And I
could scarcely count the cows, they were so many, as I came up the
mountain from Alleheiligen."
"It's true there are plenty of cows about," replied her host, "and I
could easily catch one. But if I fetch the beast here, can you milk
it?"
"Dear me, no; surely you, a great strong man, would never stand by and
let a weak girl do that? Oh, I almost wish I hadn't thought of the
milk, if I'm not to have it. I long for it so much."
"You shall have the milk, lady," returned the chamois hunter. "I--"
"How good you are!" exclaimed the Princess. "It will be more than nice
of you. But--I don't want you to think that I'm giving you all this
trouble for nothing. Here's something just to show that I appreciate
it; and--to remember me by."
She would not look up, though she longed to see what expression the
dark face wore, but kept her eyes upon her hand, from which she slowly
withdrew a ring. It fitted tightly, for she had had it made years
ago, before her slender fingers had finished growing. When at last
she had pulled off the jeweled circlet of gold, she held it up,
temptingly.
"What I have done, and anything I may yet do, is a pleasure," said the
hunter. "But after all you have learned little of Rhaetia, if you
think that we mountain men ever take payment from those to whom we've
been able to show hospitality."
"Ah, but I'm not talking of payment," pleaded the Princess. "I wish
only to be sure that you mayn't forget the first woman who, you tell
me, has ever entered this door."
The young man looked at the door, not at the girl. "It is impossible
that I should forget," said he, almost stiffly.
"Still, it will hurt me if you refuse my ring," went on Virginia.
"Please at least come and see what it's like."
He obeyed, and as she still held up the ring, he took it from her that
he might examine it more closely.
"The crest of Rhaetia!" he exclaimed, as his eyes fell upon a shield
of black and green enamel, set with small, but exceedingly brilliant
white diamonds. "How curious. I've been wondering that you should
speak our language so well--"
"It's not curious at all, really, but very simple," said Virginia.
"Now"--with a faint tremor in her voice--"press the spring on the left
side of the shield, and when you've seen what's underneath, I think
you'll feel that you can't loyally refuse to accept my little
offering."
The bronze forefinger found a pin's point protuberance of gold, and
pressing sharply, the shield flew up to reveal a tiny but exquisitely
painted miniature of Leopold the First of Rhaetia.
The chamois hunter stared at it, and did not speak, but the blood came
up to his brown forehead.
"You're surprised?" asked Virginia.
"I am surprised because I'd been led to suppose that you thought
poorly of our Emperor."
"_Poorly!_ Now what could have given you that impression?"
"Why, you--made fun of his opinion of women."
"Who am I, pray, to 'make fun' of an Emperor's opinion, even in a
matter he would consider so unimportant? On the contrary, I confess
that I, like most other girls I know, am deeply interested in your
great Leopold, if only because I--we--would be charitably minded and
teach him better. As for the ring, they sell things more or less of
this sort, in several of the Rhaetian cities I've passed through on my
way here. Didn't you know that?"
"No, lady, I have never seen one like it."
"And as for my knowledge of Rhaetian, I've always been interested in
the study of languages. Languages are fascinating to conquer; and
then, the literature of your country is so splendid, one must be able
to read it at first hand. Now, you'll have to say 'yes' to the ring,
won't you, and keep it for your Emperor's sake, if not for mine?"
"May I not keep it for yours as well?"
"Yes, if you please. And--about the milk?"
The chamois hunter caught up a gaudy jug, and without further words,
went out. When he had gone, the Princess rose and, taking the knife he
had used to cut the bread and ham, she kissed the handle on the place
where his fingers had grasped it. "You're a very silly girl, Virginia,
my dear," she said. "But oh, how you do love him. How he is _worth_
loving, and--what a glorious hour you're having!"
For ten minutes she sat alone, perhaps more; then the door was flung
open and her host flung himself in, no longer with the gay air which
had sat like a cloak upon him, but hot and sulky, the jug in his hand
as empty as when he had gone out.
"I have failed," he said gloomily. "I have failed, though I promised
you the milk."
"Couldn't you find a cow?" asked Virginia.
"Oh yes, I found one, more than one, and caught them too. I even
forced them to stand still, and grasped them by their udders, but not
a drop of milk would come down. Abominable brutes! I would gladly have
killed them, but that would have given you no milk."
For her life, the Princess could not help laughing, his air was so
desperate. If only those cows could have known who he was, and
appreciated the honor!
"Pray, pray don't mind," she begged. "You have done more than most men
could have done. After all, I'll have a glass of Rhaetian beer with
you, to drink your health and that of your Emperor. I wonder by the by
if he, who prides himself on doing all things well, can milk a cow?"
"If not, he should learn," said the chamois hunter, viciously.
"There's no knowing, it seems, when one may need the strangest
accomplishments, and be humiliated for lack of them."
"No, not humiliated," Virginia assured him. "It's always instructive
to find out one's limitations. And you have been most good to me. See,
while you were gone, I ate the slice of bread and ham you cut, and
never did a meal taste better. Now, you must have many things to do,
which I've made you leave undone. I've trespassed on you too long."
"Indeed, lady, it seems scarcely a moment since you came, and I have
no work to do," the chamois hunter insisted.
"But I've a friend waiting for me, on the mountain," the Princess
confessed. "Luckily, she had her lunch and will have eaten it, and her
guide-book must have kept her happy for a while; but by this time I'm
afraid she's anxious, and would be coming in search of me, if she
dared to stir. I must go. Will you tell me by what name I shall
remember my--rescuer, when I recall this day?"
"They named me--for the Emperor."
"They were wise. It suits you. Then I shall think of you as Leopold.
Leopold--what? But no, don't tell me the other name. It _can't_ be
good enough to match the first; for do you know, I admire the name of
Leopold more than any other I've ever heard? So, Leopold, will you
shake hands for good-by?"
The strong hand came out eagerly, and pressed hers. "Thank you, gna'
Fräulein; but it's not good-by yet. You must let me help you back by
the way you came, and down the mountain."
"Will you really? I dared not ask as much, for fear, in spite of your
kind hospitality, you were--like your noble namesake--a hater of
women."
"That's too hard a word, even for an Emperor, lady. While as for me,
if I ever said to myself, 'no woman can be of much good to a man as a
real companion,' I'm ready to unsay it."
"I'm glad! Then you shall come with me, and help me; and you shall
help my friend, who is so good and so strong-minded that perhaps she
may make you think even better of our sex. If you will, you shall be
our guide down to Alleheiligen, where we've been staying at the inn
since last night. Besides all that, if you wish to be _very_ good, you
may carry our cloaks and rücksacks, which seem so heavy to us, but
will be nothing for your strong shoulders."
The face of the chamois hunter changed and changed again with such
amused appreciation of her demands, that Virginia turned her head
away, lest she should laugh, and thus let him guess that she held the
key to the inner situation.
His willingness to become a cowherd, and now a beast of burden for the
foreign lady he had seen, and her friend whom he had not seen, was
indubitably genuine. He was pleased with the adventure--if not as
pleased as his initiated companion. For the next few hours the hunter
was free, it seemed. He said that he had been out since early dawn,
and had had good luck. Later, he had returned to the hut for a meal
and a rest, while his friends went down to the village on business
which concerned them all. As they had not come back, they were
probably amusing themselves, and when he had given the ladies all the
assistance in his power, he would join them.
The way down was easy to Virginia, with his hand to help her when it
was needed, and she had never been so happy in her twenty years. But,
after all, she asked herself, as they neared the place where she had
left Miss Portman, what had she accomplished? What impression was she
leaving? Would this radiant morning of adventure do her good or harm
with Leopold when Miss Mowbray should meet him later, in some
conventional way, through letters of introduction to Court dignitaries
at Kronburg?
While she wondered, his voice broke into her questionings.
"I hope, gna' Fräulein," the chamois hunter was saying, almost shyly
and as if by an effort, "that you won't go away from our country
thinking that we Rhaetians are so cold of heart and blood as you've
seemed to fancy. We men of the mountains may be different from others
you have seen, but we're not more cold. The torrent of our blood may
sleep for a season under ice, but when the spring comes--as it
must--and the ice melts, then the torrent gushes forth the more hotly
because it has not spent its strength before."
"I shall remember your words," said the Princess, "for--my journal of
Rhaetia. And now, here's my poor friend. I shall have to make her a
thousand excuses."
For her journal of Rhaetia! For a moment the man looked wistful, as if
it were a pain to him that he would have no other place in her
thoughts, nor time to win it, since there sat a lady in a tourist's
hat, and eye-glasses, and the episode was practically closed. He
looked too, as if there was something he would add to his last words
if he could; but Miss Portman saw the two advancing figures, and
shrieked a shrill cry of thanksgiving.
"Oh, I have been so _dreadfully_ anxious!" she groaned, "What _has_
kept you? Have you had an accident? Thank heaven you're here. I began
to give up hope of ever seeing you again alive."
"Perhaps you never would, if it hadn't been for the help of this good
and brave new friend of mine," said Virginia, hurrying into
explanations. "I got into dreadful difficulties up there; it was much
worse than I thought, but Leopold--" (Miss Portman started, stared
with her near-sighted eyes at the tall, brown man with bare knees;
colored, gasped, and swallowed hard after a quick glance at her
Princess.) "Leopold happened to be near, came to my help and saved me.
Wasn't it providential? Oh, I assure you, Leopold is a monarch--of
chamois hunters. Give him your cloak and rücksack to carry with mine,
dear Miss Manchester. He's kind enough to say that he'll guide us all
the way down to Alleheiligen, and I'm glad to accept his service."
Miss Portman--a devout Royalist, and firm believer in the right of
kings--grew crimson, her nose especially, as it invariably did at
moments of strong emotion.
The Emperor of Rhaetia, here, caught and trapped, like Pegasus bound
to the plow, and forced to carry luggage as if he were a common
porter--worst of all, _her_ insignificant, twice wretched luggage!
She would have protested if she had dared; but she did not dare, and
was obliged to see that imperial form--unmistakably imperial, it
seemed to her, though masquerading in humble guise--loaded down with
her rücksack and her large golf cape, with goloshes in the pocket.
Crushed under the magnitude of her discovery, dazzled by the
surprising brilliance of the Princess's capture, stupefied by the fear
of saying or doing the wrong thing and ruining her idol's bizarre
triumph, poor Miss Portman staggered as Virginia helped her to her
feet.
"Why, you're cramped with sitting so long!" cried the Princess. "Be
careful! But Leopold will give you his arm. Leopold will take you
down, won't you, Leopold?"
And the Imperial Eagle, who had hoped for better things, meekly
allowed another link to be added to his chain.