olanda, again
taking the seat between Max and me.

"No," he responded.

"Nor for love of any woman?" she asked, looking toward Max.

"I'll not say that," he replied, laughing softly, and taking her hands
between his.

"No, no," she mused, looking in revery out the window. "No, we will not
say that."

I have always been as unsentimental as a man well can be, but I believe,
had I been in Max's place, I should have thrown away my crown for the
sake of Yolanda, the burgher girl. I remember wondering if Max would be
strong enough finally to reach the same conclusion. If he should be, my
faith in Yolanda's powers led me to believe that she would contrive a
plan to make him her husband, despite her father, or the devil and
all his imps.

There is a power of finesse in the feminine mind that no man may fully
compass, and Yolanda, in that respect, was the flower of her sex. That
she had been able to maintain her humble personality with Max, despite
the fact that she had been compelled to meet him twice as princess,
proved her ability. Of course, she had the help of good old Castleman
and his sweet Frau Kate, serene Twonette, and myself; but with all this
help she probably would have failed without the stairway in the wall.

When we left Castleman's, I did not bring up the subject of Mary and
Yolanda. Max walked silently beside me until we had nearly reached the
inn, when he said:--

"I am almost glad I was wrong, Karl. I would not have Yolanda other
than she is. At times, wild thoughts suggest themselves to me; but I am
not so weak as to give way to them. I drive them off and clench my
teeth, determined to take the misery God doles out to me. I am glad we
are soon to leave Burgundy. The duke marches in three days, and it is
none too soon for me."

"Shall not we return to Burgundy?" I asked. "I want you to see Paris and
Brussels, and, if possible, London before we return to Styria. Don't you
think it best that we come back to Peronne after this war?"

"You are right, Karl; we must come back," he answered. "I do not fear
Yolanda. I am not weak."

"I sometimes wonder if we know our strength from our weakness," I
suggested. "There is doubtless much energy wasted by conscientious men
striving in the wrong direction, who fancy they are doing their duty."

"You would not have me marry Yolanda?" asked Max, a gleam of light
coming to his eyes.

"I do not know, Max," I responded. "A rare thing has happened to you.
You ha