Caballero of the Mexican Eagle. In pity for
them both, Jacqueline asked herself what precedence awaited the new
Caballero of the Mexican Eagle in a Court, not Imperial, but Divine.

Jacqueline had not journeyed her perilous way out of simple friendship
for a desolate prince, but could she have foreseen how his eyes lighted
with gladness to behold one friend who remembered, in sweet charity she
would almost have come for that alone.

"When Your Highness has finished here," she said, glancing at the
inquisitive Lopez near her, "or whenever I can speak with Your Highness
in private----"

There was beseeching in Maximilian's quick scrutiny of her face, as
though the helpless messenger had aught of power over her tidings.
"In--in a moment, mademoiselle," he said tremulously. "I always see
the--new ones, before I go."

The "new ones" were still being brought in, until any first aid from the
distracted surgeons was of the most casual--the ripping of bandaged
cloth, a knot tied, and so on to the next. Followed by Lopez, the two
girls, and several officers of the hospital staff, Maximilian passed
from ward to ward. But Jacqueline's hand seemed always to be threading a
needle, or holding a ligature, or lightly touching a hot forehead, and
in every case the surgeon would nod quickly, gratefully, as to a fellow
craftsman. Berthe the while gazed in tender wonder on her calm mistress,
and nerved herself someway to help also.

And so they came to the withered form in brave red coat, and green
pantaloon whom Lopez had carried off the field. One of the nurses had
placed a handkerchief over his face, because of the stinging flies, but
Jacqueline recognized the thin white hair and the twisted wig as of the
old man whom she had sent ahead in her coach. At first he seemed to be
dead, for he lay very still on the floor, though a surgeon was probing
his wound, and his blood was fast filling the bowl held by the nurse.
But now and again, the straining cords in his emaciated wrist twitched
with the protest of life. Maximilian stooped to raise the handkerchief.
Lopez made a movement to prevent, but restrained the impulse as useless.
And then Maximilian revealed the gaunt, leaden features of Anastasio
Murguia, the father of Maria de la Luz.

Jacqueline fell back with bloodless lips. The father of that dead
girl--and Maximilian! They were face to face, these two! But the
Emperor's expression was of pity only. He sank to his knees, the better