ia; and I shall thank you all my life for having made a
man of me."

CHAPTER VI

DUKE CHARLES THE RASH

Our caravan travelled with the mournfulness of a funeral procession.
Early in the evening Max spoke to Yolanda:--

"I hear your uncle desires Sir Karl and me to leave you at Metz."

"Yes," she answered dolefully, hanging her head, "we part at Metz. I
shall see you there before I leave, and then--and then--ah, Sir Max, I
was wrong and you were right; there is no hope."

"What of the lady who gave me the ring?" asked Max, in a feeble effort
to banter her.

"She would have made you very happy, Sir Max. Her estates would have
compensated for all losses elsewhere."

"You know, that is not true, Yolanda," said Max, earnestly.

"I am not sure, Sir Max," responded the girl, "and do not wish to be
sure. I will see you at Metz, and there we may part. It is our fate. We
must not be doleful, Sir Max, we must be--we must be--happy and brave."
Her poor little effort to be happy and brave was piteous.

Castleman soon fell back with Yolanda, and Max rode forward beside me.

At midnight we offsaddled by a stream in a forest and allowed our horses
and mules to rest until sunrise. Then we took up our journey again, and
by forced marches reached Metz one morning an hour before dawn. We
waited in a drizzling rain till the gates opened, and, after a long
parley with the warder, entered the city. We were all nearly exhausted,
and our poor mules staggered along the streets hardly able to carry
their burdens another step. Two had fallen a half-league outside of
Metz; and three others fell with their loads within the city gates.

Castleman had determined to stop with a merchant friend, and after what
seemed a long journey from the gates we halted at the merchant's house.
Our host left us in his parlor while he went to arrange for breakfast.
When he had gone Castleman turned to me:--

"You and Sir Max will, if you please, find good lodging at the Great
Tun. My friend will send a man in advance to bespeak your comfort."

Max and I rose to leave, and Yolanda offered him her hand, saying:--

"It may be that we are to part here at Metz, but I will send for you
soon and will see you before we leave, and--and--" She could not speak
further; tears were in her eyes and her voice. It was not so easy after
all to be happy and brave.

"You will not fail to send for me?" asked Max, clinging to her hand.

"I will not fail," she answe