thin white face lighted eagerly when he perceived that
Driscoll had come. The haggard despair of two days before had given way
to a serene calm, like that which soothes a dying man when the pain is
no longer felt. In a gentleness of command that would not be denied, he
rose and brought the American into the room.

"Colonel Driscoll," he began, "you know, of course, that a witness is
the world's deputy. He is named to learn a certain truth, but afterward
he must champion that truth, even against the world. So you find
yourself here, but first I wish to thank----"

"Please don't mention it," Driscoll interposed. "I'm willing to do
anything I can."

"Then remember," said Maximilian, "that you are a witness, and a witness
only. Can you bear that in mind, senor, no matter what you may hear?"

Driscoll nodded, but the very first words all but made him a violent
actor as well. Maximilian had turned to Jacqueline. For a moment he
paused, then with a grave dignity spoke.

"Mademoiselle," he said, "reverently, prayerfully, I ask your hand in
marriage."

She gasped, and so sharp and quick that certainly she was the most
dumbfounded there. Her utter stupefaction amazed Driscoll as much again
as the question itself. He stiffened as though struck. If this were a
revelation? If it could be--if it could be that she really knew no
reason why she should marry Maximilian?

The archduke observed them both, and his eyes shone with kindliness. But
making a gesture for patience, he hurried on. "Father Soria here," he
said, "will come in the morning, just before the--the execution, to
perform the ceremony. A judge of the Republic will come too, for the
civil marriage. As to the banns----"

"But why--_why_, parbleu?"

Jacqueline stood before him, stung from her speechless trance by fury.
Behind narrowed lids the gray eyes hardened as points of steel.

"You shall know, mademoiselle," he answered softly. "It is a boon I ask
of you, the greatest, and the only one before I go----"

"Why? Tell me why!"

"Because it is _the_ boon a true knight may crave. It is to right
before the world the noblest woman a knight can ever know----"

"Sire!"

The word was rage and supplication both. It was a hurt cry, piteous to
hear. Then the glint dying from her eyes blazed to tempestuous life in
those of the Missourian. But the priest's hand touched his arm, and the
priest's voice, low and gentle, stayed him.

Maximilian, though, had seen the outb