lso, the only difference being that the answer was
exactly opposite to what it would have been a month earlier.

"Baroness, forgive me," he said quickly. "I must go. I can't explain."

"You need not try," she answered him, softly.

"Thank you, a hundred times. Make everything as straight for me as you
can. Say what you will. I give you _carte blanche_, for we're old
friends, and I trust you."

"It's for me to thank your Majesty. You want your motor-car?"

"Yes."

"I'll telephone. Your chauffeur will have it here in six minutes. And
your aide-de-camp. Will you--"

"I don't want him, thanks. I'd rather go alone."

Seven minutes later the big white motor-car was at the door which was
the private entrance to the Emperor's suite; and the Emperor was
waiting for it, having forgotten all about the sable-lined coat which
had been a present from the Czar. If it had been mid-winter, he would
have forgotten, just the same; nor would he have known that it was
cold.

There was plenty of time now to carry out his plan, which was to
catch the Orient Express at the Kronburg station, and present himself
to the Mowbrays in the train, later. As to what would happen
afterwards, it was beyond planning; but Leopold knew that the girl had
loved him; and he hoped that he would have Lady Mowbray on his side.

The only way of reaching Kronburg from Schloss Lyndalberg was by road;
there was no railway connection between the two places. But the town
and the castle were separated by a short eight miles, and until
checked by traffic in the suburbs, the sixty horse-power car could
cover a mile in less than two minutes.

Unfortunately, however, police regulations were strict, and of this
Leopold could not complain, as he had approved them himself. Once, he
was stopped, and would certainly not have been allowed to proceed, had
he not revealed himself as the Emperor, the owner of the one
unnumbered car in Rhaetia. As it was, he had suffered a delay of five
minutes; and just as he was congratulating himself on the goodness of
his tires, which had made him no trouble for many weeks, a loud report
as of a pistol shot gave warning of a puncture.

But there was not a moment to waste on repairs, Leopold drove on, on
the rims, only to acknowledge presently the truth of an old proverb,
"the more haste the less speed."

Delayed by a torn and flapping tire, the car arrived at the big
Central Station of Kronburg only five minutes before twelve. Leo