"And you believed him, dear?" I asked.
She looked up quickly.
"Yes--I believed him. I wanted to believe him--Did he deceive me?"
"Listen," said I. "He reached Dornlitz two days ago. Yesterday
afternoon he insulted me repeatedly in my office at Headquarters. Last
night I attended the Vierle Masque. While in the Garden I was struck
in the back with a dagger."
"Stabbed!" she exclaimed, and clutched my arm.
"No, dear--not even scratched, thanks to Bernheim's steel vest I was
wearing. Half an hour later, our cousin of Lotzen, with Mrs. Spencer
on his arm, met me, alone, in a retired part of the Garden, forced a
duel, and did his level best to run me through, by a trick of fence he
thought he, alone knew."
"And, again, the vest saved you?"
"No--I was fortunate enough to disarm him."
"Glorious, dear, glorious!" she exclaimed. And tears filled her eyes.
And, as it was I that had caused them, it was but fair that I should
take them away.
Then she made me go over the whole story in detail.
"Of course you will tell the King," said she.
"Maybe," said I. "I've not decided yet."
She got up. "There is just time for me to get into riding dress," she
said. "But, first; this is Thursday--if you do not tell His Majesty of
Lotzen's perfidy by Saturday, I shall do it, myself."
And I knew she would--so I made no protest.
"Put on the green habit and the plumed hat, dear," I said, as I held
back the door.
I have always liked green--the dark rich green of the forest's
depth--and, if there were anything more lovely than the Princess Dehra,
when she came back to me, it is quite beyond my Imagination to conceive
it. He is a poor lover, indeed, who does not think his sweetheart
fair; yet, he would have been a poor sort of man, who would not have
been at one with me, that afternoon.
And I told her so--but she called me "Foolish!" once again, and ran
from me to the private exit of her suite, where our four companions
were awaiting us. But I had my reward; for she waved the groom aside
and let me swing her into saddle and fix her skirt.
How easy it is for a clever woman to manage a man--if she care to try.
It was a beautiful afternoon--the road was soft and the track smooth.
Much of it led through woodland and along a brawling stream. The
horses were of the sort that delight the soul--I doubt if there were
six better saddlers in the whole Kingdom of Valeria. I know there were
no prettier women, and, I think, no happier men.
We passed many people--mainly country-men--and they all knew the
Princess and loved her--bless her!--if their greetings went for aught.
Me, they eyed with frank curiosity; and, more than once, I caught the
drift of their comments.
"A pretty pair," said one, as Dehra and I drew near, our horses on a
walk.
"It's a pity he has a wife," the other answered. And Dehra frowned.
"They match up well," said a fellow, as we paused a moment at a spring
beside a small road house.