spare
her and years hence the thing may stir again. I--I can not bear to
think of it even now, Tregar. I have paid heavily for my moment of
madness. For nights after, I did not sleep. Even now the memory is
unspeakable torture!" And Ronador admitted with stiff, white lips that
some nameless God of Malice had made capital of his bullet, stirring
his heart into admiration for the fearless girl who had stood so
gallantly by the fire in a storm-haunted wood. In the heart of the
forest a happier solution had come to him and eliminated the sinister
thought of murder.

The Baron coldly heard the passionate avowal through to the end.

"And the Princess Phaedra?" he begged formally. "What of her? What of
the marriage that is to dissolve the bitter feud of a century between
Houdania and Galituria, this marriage to which already you are
informally bound?"

"It is nothing to me. I shall marry Miss Westfall."

"So!" The Baron matched his heavy fingertips. "So! And this is
another infernal complication of the freedom of marital choice we grant
our princes!"

"Ten years ago," flamed Ronador passionately, "you and my father picked
a wife for me! Is not that enough? Now that she is dead, I shall
marry whom I choose. Has it not occurred to you that after all it is
the sanest way out of this horrible muddle?"

"It is one way out," admitted Tregar, "and by that way lies war with
Galituria." He fell silent, plucking at his beard. "I fancy," he said
at last, "that you will not go back to the music-machine."

"It was--and is--my only means of following her."

"Do so again," said the Baron dryly, "and the American yellow papers
shall blazon your identity to the world. 'Son of a prince
regent--nephew of a king--trundles a music-machine about to win a
beautiful gypsy!' And Galituria and the Princess Phaedra will read
with interest." Then he blazed suddenly with one of his infrequent
outbursts of passion, "Is it not enough to have Galituria laughing at a
mad king whose claim to the throne by our laws may not be invalidated
by his madness? A king so mad that the affairs of a nation must be
administered by a prince regent--your father? Must you add to all this
the disgrace of breaking faith with Galituria and plunging your country
into war? Your father is an old man. With but his life and the life
of an aging madman between you and the throne, it behooves you to walk
with a full recognition of your future responsi