soon. The duke urged an early reply, and Max said:--

"With Your Grace's permission we will attend to-morrow's morning
audience, and will make our answer after Your Lordship has risen."

Charles acquiesced, and we soon left the castle. The duke, as I have
already told you, was very rich. Hymbercourt once told me that he had
two hundred and fifty thousand gold crowns in his coffers at Luxembourg.
That was probably more than the combined treasuries of any two kings in
Europe could show. Max and I were short of money, and the sum that the
duke offered seemed enormous. Neither Max nor his father, Duke
Frederick, had ever possessed as much money at one time.

While we were leisurely walking across the courtyard toward the Postern,
three ladies and two gentlemen, accompanied by outriders and pages
carrying falcons, rode by us and passed out through the Postern. We
followed, and overtook them at the town end of the drawbridge, where
they had halted. When we came up to them, we recognized the duchess and
the princess. The duchess bowed smilingly, but the princess did not
speak, though she looked in our direction.

The cavalcade turned to the left, and went up a narrow street toward
Cambrai Gate, evidently bound for the marshes. Max and I walked straight
ahead toward the Cologne bridge, intending, as we had promised, to go
back to Castleman's. Two hundred yards up the street I glanced back, and
saw a lady riding through the Postern, back to the castle. I knew at
once that the princess had returned, and I was sure of meeting
Yolanda,--sweet, smiling, tender Yolanda,--at the dear old House under
the Wall. I did not like the princess; she was cold, haughty,
supercilious, and perhaps tinged with her father's cruelty. I longed