As he walked he heard the sound of the feet of a horse
galloping over a dry field—muffled, rapid
thud approaching closer upon his right hand.
Barney remained motionless. He was sure that the
rider would not enter the wood which, with its low-hanging
boughs and thick underbrush, was ill adapted to equestrianism.
Closer and closer came the sound until it ceased suddenly
scarce a hundred yards from where the American hid.
He waited in silence to discover what would happen
next. Would the rider enter the wood on foot?
What was his purpose? Was it another Austrian
who had by some miracle discovered the whereabouts
of the fugitive? Barney could scarce believe
it possible.
Presently he heard another horse approaching at the
same mad gallop. He heard the sound of rapid,
almost frantic efforts of some nature where the first
horse had come to a stop. He heard a voice urging
the animal forward—pleading, threatening.
A woman’s voice. Barney’s excitement
became intense in sympathy with the subdued excitement
of the woman whom he could not as yet see.
A moment later the second rider came to a stop at
the same point at which the first had reined in.
A man’s voice rose roughly. “Halt!”
it cried. “In the name of the king, halt!”
The American could no longer resist the temptation
to see what was going on so close to him “in
the name of the king.”
He advanced from behind his tree until he saw the
two figures—a man’s and a woman’s.
Some bushes intervened—he could not get
a clear view of them, yet there was something about
the figure of the woman, whose back was toward him
as she struggled to mount her frightened horse, that
caused him to leap rapidly toward her. He rounded
a tree a few paces from her just as the man—a
trooper in the uniform of the house of Blentz—caught
her arm and dragged her from the saddle. At the
same instant Barney recognized the girl—it
was Princess Emma.
Before either the trooper or the princess were aware
of his presence he had leaped to the man’s side
and dealt him a blow that stretched him at full length
upon the ground—stunned.
AN ADVENTUROUS DAY
For an instant the two stood looking at one another.
The girl’s eyes were wide with incredulity,
with hope, with fear. She was the first to break
the silence.
“Who are you?” she breathed in a half
whisper.
“I don’t wonder that you ask,” returned
the man. “I must look like a scarecrow.
I’m Barney Custer. Don’t you remember
me now? Who did you think I was?”
The girl took a step toward him. Her eyes lighted
with relief.
“Captain Maenck told me that you were dead,”
she said, “that you had been shot as a spy in
Austria, and then there is that uncanny resemblance
to the king—since he has shaved his beard
it is infinitely more remarkable. I thought you
might be he. He has been at Blentz and I knew
that it was quite possible that he had discovered
treachery upon the part of Prince Peter. In which
case he might have escaped in disguise. I really
wasn’t sure that you were not he until you spoke.”
