t me happiness, Yolanda, and I shall be wretched
when your father takes you from me. Twonette is not dearer to me than
you. Whatever befalls, I shall still thank God for the happiness He has
given me in you."

"Ah, uncle, your kind words almost break my heart," said Yolanda,
placing her kerchief to her eyes. "I wish you would not forgive me for
having brought you into this hard case. I wish you would upbraid me. I
will pray to the Blessed Virgin night and day to protect you from this
trouble my wilfulness has brought upon you. Never again will I be
wilful, dear uncle, never again--with you. At Strasburg I will make an
offering to the Virgin."

"Make her an offering of this young man on whom you are smiling,"
suggested Castleman. "I would have left him at Basel but for your
wilfulness and entreaties. We know nothing of him save that he is big,
honest, brave, gentle, and good to look upon. I have already warned you
against the great favor you show him. I shall not do so again. I advise
that we leave him at Metz."

"I will do as you advise," said Yolanda, mournfully. "I will offer even
this, my first great happiness, to the Virgin. Surely it will
propitiate her."

This conversation almost deprived me of the power to think. In a dimly
conscious fashion, I wondered whether Castleman could possibly have
meant the Duke of Burgundy when he told Yolanda that her father would
soon be at Peronne. I could find no other meaning for his words, and I
was almost ready to believe that the brown-eyed, laughing Yolanda was
none other than the far-famed Mary of Burgundy, whose tiny hand was
sought by every nation of Europe having a marriageable king or prince.

Kings in their dotage and princes in their nonage wooed her. Old men
and babes eagerly sought the favor of this young girl, and stood ready
to give their gold, their blood, and the lives of their subjects on even
the shadow of a chance to win her. The battle-field and the bower alike
had been wooing-ground for her smiles. After all this, she had been
affianced to the Dauphin of France, and her father would bring the
marriage about within a few weeks. To this girl I had thought to be
gracious, and had feared that I might be too condescending. I then
realized what a pitiable ass a man may make of himself by giving his
whole time and attention to the task.

Of course I was not sure that Yolanda was the princess. Her father,
spoken of by Castleman, might be, and probably was, a g