ing, at least, till formal
negotiations had been opened. "I saw him yesterday for the first
time," she pleaded, "so naturally I am rather overwhelmed."

Privately she had thought, his eyes, which he had never taken off her,
kind and pleasant; and if she had known of his having said Bosh who
knows but that he might have had a chance? As it was, the moment she
was alone she sent flying for Fritzing. "What," she said, "do you say
to my marrying this man?"

"If you do, ma'am," said Fritzing, and his face seemed one blaze of
white conviction, "you will undoubtedly be eternally lost."

II

They fled on bicycles in the dusk. The goddess Good Luck, who seems to
have a predilection for sinners, helped them in a hundred ways.
Without her they would certainly not have got far, for both were very
ignorant of the art of running away. Once flight was decided on
Fritzing planned elaborately and feverishly, got things thought out
and arranged as well as he, poor harassed man, possibly could. But
what in this law-bound world can sinners do without the help of Luck?
She, amused and smiling dame, walked into the castle and smote the
Countess Disthal with influenza, crushing her down helpless into her
bed, and holding her there for days by the throat. While one hand was
doing this, with the other she gaily swept the Grand Duke into East
Prussia, a terrific distance, whither, all unaware of how he was being
trifled with, he thought he was being swept by an irresistible desire
to go, before the business of Priscilla's public betrothal should
begin, and shoot the roebucks of a friend.

The Countess was thrust into her bed at noon of a Monday in October.
At three the Grand Duke started for East Prussia, incognito in a
motor--you know the difficulty news has in reaching persons in
motors. At four one of Priscilla's maids, an obscure damsel who had
been at the mercy of the others and was chosen because she hated them,
tripped out of the castle with shining eyes and pockets heavy with
bribes, and caused herself to be whisked away by the afternoon express
to Cologne. At six, just as the castle guard was being relieved, two
persons led their bicycles through the archway and down across the
bridge. It was dark, and nobody recognized them. Fritzing was got up
sportingly, almost waggishly--heaven knows his soul was not feeling
waggish--as differently as possible from his usual sober clothes.
Somehow he reminded Priscilla of a circus, and