“From a just cause, my lord,” quickly
retorted Max.
“I fear I have had the worst of this encounter,
Hymbercourt,” said the duke, smiling, “and
I see nothing left for me but apology.”
“I sincerely hope Your Grace will not embarrass
us by apologizing,” said Max.
Charles hesitated, gave a short laugh, and apologized
by placing his hand on Max’s shoulder.
“Let us go into the little parley room,”
he said. “Hymbercourt, lead the way with
Sir Max; Sir Karl and I will follow presently.”
Max and Hymbercourt passed out at a small door near
the throne, and the duke turned to me:—
“I like the boy’s modest boldness, and
I hope that I may induce him and you to accompany
me against the Swiss. I would not accept his offer
made on the spur of the moment, but if, on talking
it over with him, you make up your minds to come with
me, I will make it well worth your while. This
war will be but a May-day outing. We’ll
speak on the subject again. Meantime, I understand
that you and Sir Max wish to remain incognito at Peronne?”
“We do, Your Grace,” I responded.
“I fear it will be impossible to accept the
honor you have offered, but, as you have graciously
said, we will, if you wish, speak of it again.”
“I am content,” said the duke. “Let
us follow Hymbercourt.”
SIR KARL MEETS THE PRINCESS
The duke and I passed through the door by which Max
and Hymbercourt had left the hall, and entered a narrow
passageway eight or ten yards long, having two doors
at the farther end. The door to the right, I soon
learned, led to the little parley room where Max and
Hymbercourt had gone. The door to the left opened
into a staircase that led to the apartments of the
duchess. A narrow flight of stone steps that led
from the ladies’ gallery opened into the passage,
and, just as the duke entered in advance of me, two
ladies emerged from the stairs. They did not
see me in the shadow, and supposed that the duke was
alone. The taller, who I soon learned was the
duchess, hastened down the passage and through the
door leading to her apartments. The smaller I
at once recognized. She was Yolanda.
“Father, you cannot mean to send me into France,”
she cried, trying to detain the duke. “Kill
me, father, if you will, but do not send me to that
hated land. I shall not survive this marriage
a fortnight, and if I die, Burgundy will go to our
cousin of Bourbon.”
“Don’t hinder me, daughter,” returned
the duke, impatiently. “Don’t you
see we are not alone?”
Yolanda turned in surprise toward me, and the duke
said:—
“Go by the right door, Sir Karl. I will
be with you at once. I wish to speak with the
duchess.”
He hurriedly followed his wife and left me alone with
Yolanda.
“Fraeulein, my intrusion was unintentional,”
I stammered. “I followed the duke at his
request.”
