stepped towards them,
cracking loudly.

"Sire," he said, "accept my congratulations on a good fortune that is
perchance even greater than you yet know. You have won a lady who is not
only lovely, but, as I shall show you, no other than the daughter of
our late Prince Chrysopras, and thus rightfully entitled to the crown of
Maerchenland."

"And you knew this, Daphne?" cried Mirliflor when the Baron had
concluded. "Why did you say nothing to me about it?"

"I only heard of it myself just now in the car," she said. "And what
does it matter? I don't want to claim the crown--all I want is to live
at Clairdelune with you."

But he told her it was her duty to her Country to assert her just
rights, and, on being informed of the appointment with the Marshal, he
was in favour of keeping it. "He will be useful," he said, "if he is an
honest supporter of your cause."

"But I'm quite certain he isn't!" said Daphne.

"We can only make sure by meeting him," he replied, "and as of course I
shall be with you, you will be in no danger."

He had no weapon but the sword that had served him so well at
Drachenstolz, which he had brought away with him rather as a _souvenir_
than with any idea that he might need it on his journey, but Daphne felt
that, so long as Mirliflor was at her side, she had nothing to fear, and
so she readily consented to re-enter the car and be taken to the Chapel
in the forest, where the Marshal in all probability was awaiting her
arrival.

As the car neared the borders of the forest, Mirliflor took out the silk
cap which the Baron had lent him. "I meant to have returned this to you,
Baron," he said, "but I find I have it still. With your permission, I
will keep it a little longer, as I fancy it may be useful. Don't be
alarmed, darling," he added to Daphne, "if you don't see me when I put
this on. Remember that, though I shall be invisible, I shall be near
you all the time."

"I'll try to remember, Mirliflor," said Daphne. "But--but don't stay
invisible longer than you can possibly help."

* * * * *

The Chapel stood in a clearing in the very middle of the forest, and the
storks calculated their descent with such nicety that they brought the
car up in front of the door.

The Marshal, in his plumed helmet, golden cuirass, and high boots of
gilded leather, was waiting, and now came forward to help Daphne to
alight. His vizor was raised, but the company of knights with him