e to push on to
Hof. Cursing at the delay, I strode into the village inn and ordered a
cold chicken and some wine to be served for my dinner. It was but a few
miles to Hof, and I had every hope that I might deliver my papers to the
Prince on that very night, and be on my way for France next morning with
despatches for the Emperor in my bosom. I will tell you now what befell
me in the inn of Lobenstein.

The chicken had been served and the wine drawn, and I had turned upon
both as a man may who has ridden such a ride, when I was aware of a
murmur and a scuffling in the hall outside my door. At first I thought
that it was some brawl between peasants in their cups, and I left them
to settle their own affairs. But of a sudden there broke from among the
low, sullen growl of the voices such a sound as would send Etienne
Gerard leaping from his death-bed. It was the whimpering cry of a woman
in pain. Down clattered my knife and my fork, and in an instant I was
in the thick of the crowd which had gathered outside my door.

The heavy-cheeked landlord was there and his flaxen-haired wife, the two
men from the stables, a chambermaid, and two or three villagers. All of
them, women and men, were flushed and angry, while there in the centre
of them, with pale cheeks and terror in her eyes, stood the loveliest
woman that ever a soldier would wish to look upon. With her queenly head
thrown back, and a touch of defiance mingled with her fear, she looked
as she gazed round her like a creature of a different race from the
vile, coarse-featured crew who surrounded her. I had not taken two steps
from my door before she sprang to meet me, her hand resting upon my arm
and her blue eyes sparkling with joy and triumph.

'A French soldier and gentleman!' she cried. 'Now at last I am safe.'

'Yes, madam, you are safe,' said I, and I could not resist taking her
hand in mine in order that I might reassure her. 'You have only to
command me,' I added, kissing the hand as a sign that I meant what I was
saying.

'I am Polish,' she cried; 'the Countess Palotta is my name. They abuse
me because I love the French. I do not know what they might have done to
me had Heaven not sent you to my help.'

I kissed her hand again lest she should doubt my intentions. Then I
turned upon the crew with such an expression as I know how to assume. In
an instant the hall was empty.

'Countess,' said I, 'you are now under my protection. You are faint, and
a glass o