“I have heard many conflicting stories concerning this Duke Charles,” said Max.  “Some persons say he is all that is brave and noble; others declare that he is fierce, passionate, and bad.  I wonder which I shall find him to be?”

“Do you expect to take service with him?” asked Yolanda, half sadly.  At the mention of the duke’s name all smiles and dimples fled incontinently.

“No,” answered Max, “I think I shall not take service with the duke.  In truth, I don’t know what I shall do.  For what purpose I am going to Burgundy I am sure I cannot say.”

A short silence ensued, which was broken by Yolanda, speaking archly:—­

“Perhaps you are going to Burgundy or to France to win the lady who gave you the ring?” Max was surprised, and flushed as he answered:—­

“That would be an impossible thought, Fraeulein.  If you but knew who the lady is, you would understand that such a hope on my part were a phantasy.  But I have no such hope or wish.  I do not now want to win the lady of the ring.”

“No, no, Sir Max,” said Yolanda, protestingly, “you must not basely desert this lady-love whom you have never seen.  If trouble should come to her, whoever she is, you must hasten to her rescue and carry her away.  The best opportunity to rob, you know, comes in the midst of a melee.  Take her, Sir Max.  I wish you success.”

“Do you really wish me success, Fraeulein?” asked Max, looking straight ahead.  He was not at all flattered by her good wishes concerning the lady of the ring.

“Indeed I do,” responded the girl, joyously; “I will pray to the Virgin and ask her to help you to win this fair lady who gave you the ring.”

“I thank you for your good wishes,” returned Max, “though I could easily be satisfied with less enthusiasm on the subject.”

“Indeed?  Why, may I ask?”

“Because, Fraeulein—­because I had hoped—­” Max ceased speaking, and, leaning forward, smoothed his horse’s mane.

Yolanda waited for a moment and then, turning her face toward Max, asked:—­

“You had hoped for what, Sir Max?”

“I had hoped for nothing, Fraeulein,” he answered.  “I am satisfied as matters now stand between us.  Your words at supper last evening rang in my ears all night, ‘Chained to a throne; chained to a throne.’  I knew you referred to my unhappy lot when you spoke, though how you guessed the truth concerning my station I do not know.”

A surprised little smile spread over her face, but he did not see it.  He was still smoothing his horse’s mane.

“You cannot know the terrible truth of your words,” continued Max.  “I will tell you a part of my secret, Fraeulein.  All my life I have been cut off—­chained to a throne—­from the fellowship of men and the love of friends.  Karl is the only friend I have ever known save my mother until I met you and your good people.  Only the good God can know how I have longed and hungered since