d, sir."

Hillars remained somewhat long over it.

"And how comes it that you gentlemen know each other?" she asked.

"Damon and Pythias, Your Highness," answered Hillars. "We were brought
up together, and we have shared our tents and kettles. I recommend
Pythias to you as a brave gentleman." Then he came to me. "You are a
brave fellow, Jack," grasping my hand. "Good luck to you. I had an
idea; it has returned. Now, then, innkeeper, come with me."

"With you, and where?" asked the innkeeper. If there was one thing for
which he could not account, it was the presence of Hillars at the inn.

"Never mind where, but come," answered Hillars, gayly. He bent and
whispered something into the old fellow's ear. It was something which
pleased him, for he screwed his lips into a smile, and took the white
hand of the whisperer in his brawny fist and nigh crushed it.

"Well, well! it doesn't matter where you came from. Here, you," to the
trio behind him, "go back to the stables." They filed out. Then the
innkeeper took Hillars by the arm. "Come along; time passes."

"And where are you going?" I asked anxiously. Hillars should not have
passed from my sight but for Gretchen.

"We'll be back shortly," he answered. "You will know all about then,
my son."

He stood on the sill of the door, a handsome picture. His gray eyes
sparkled, his face was full of excitement and there was a color in his
cheeks. There was no sign here of the dissipated man of the night
before. It was Hillars as I had seen him in the old days. But for his
19th century garb, he might have just stepped down from a frame--a
gallant by Fortuny, who loved the awakened animal in man. The poise
was careless, but graceful, and the smile was debonair. His eyes were
holding Gretchen's. A moment passed; another and another.

Then: "Long live and God bless her Serene Highness the Princess
Hildegarde!" And he was gone.

And as he disappeared a shadow of some sort passed before my eyes, and
a something dull and heavy pressed upon my heart. Presently came the
sound of beating hoofs, and then all became still.

Gretchen and I were alone.

Gretchen appeared to be studying the blue veins in her hands which she
listlessly held before her. An interval of three or four minutes
passed, still she remained in that pathetic attitude, silent and
motionless.

"Gretchen," said I, "have you nothing to say?"

"Yes." Her eyes raised to the level of mine,