y knelt down beside him, for he saw that the other had
recognised him.

"Your Majesty," he whispered. Then after a pause he added, "Thank God
you are found at last!"

"Hush! hush!" Max replied. "I am no king, only a Pannonian soldier!"

"You are both," gasped the dying man. "They have searched everywhere for
you. This must be told."

"No, no!" answered Max. "I can never consent."

But the other was not to be denied. Putting forth all the strength that
remained in him, he raised himself and called one of the doctors by
name.

The surgeon, who happened to be disengaged at the moment, hastened
towards him. Before he could reach him, however, the poor fellow had
fallen upon the ground, and was dead. With a cold sweat upon his
forehead, such as the fear of battle had never been able to produce, Max
staggered to his feet.

"He is dead," said the doctor, after a brief examination. "Poor Fritz!
poor Fritz! it will break his mother's heart. Where did this happen, my
man?"

"In the village yonder," Max replied. "He was conveying an order to our
colonel to retire."

Then with a choking feeling in his throat he made his way, accompanied
by Bertram, to the wood.

"That was a very near thing for you," said the latter, as they hurried
along. "Oh, why won't you declare yourself and take up the position
which is yours by right?"

"Not yet, not yet," said Max, shaking his head. "Fate will decide
everything for me in good time. I intend to leave it to her."

Fate very nearly decided it for him on three occasions during the next
few hours. Once his helmet was knocked off by a bullet, once he was only
saved by the butt of his rifle, which he had lowered to reload, while on
the third occasion he was giving water to a wounded man, who had fallen
beside him, when a bullet shattered the bottle he held in his hand.

Next morning it was rumoured in the camp that I, Prince Paul, had
returned to Pannonia, that the Republic was no more, and that the
Ramonyi dynasty had come to its own again. Later in the day the news was
officially communicated to the troops, and with his comrades, ragged,
tattered, weary, half-starved, and altogether forlorn, Max swore
allegiance to himself. A more grotesque situation could scarcely be
imagined.

"Prince Paul is declared Regent for his brother," said a grey-haired
sergeant, as they ate their frugal supper by the camp fire. "I wonder
where the king is?"

I have often conjectured what he would ha