The restoration of the Princess Hildegarde of Ehrenstein had been the
sensation of Europe, as had been in the earlier days her remarkable
abduction. For sixteen years the search had gone on fruitlessly. The
cleverest adventuresses on the continent tried devious tricks to palm
themselves off as the lost princess. From France they had come, from
Prussia, Italy, Austria, Russia and England. But the duke and the
chancellor held the secret, unknown to any one else--a locket. In a
garret in Dresden the agents of Herbeck found her, a singer in the
chorus of the opera. The newspapers and illustrated weeklies raged about
her for a while, elaborated the story of her struggles, the mysterious
remittances which had, from time to time, saved her from direst poverty,
her ambition, her education which, by dint of hard work, she had
acquired. It was all very puzzling and interesting and romantic. For
what purpose had she been stolen, and by whom? The duke accused Franz of
Jugendheit, but he did so privately. Search as they would, the duke and
the chancellor never traced the source of the remittances. The duke held
stubbornly that the sender of these benefactions was moved by the
impulse of a guilty conscience, and that this guilty conscience was in
Jugendheit. But these remittances, argued Herbeck, came long after the
death of the old king. He had his agents, vowed the duke. Herbeck would
not listen to this. He preferred to believe that Count von Arnsberg was
the man.

There was an endless tangle of red tape before the girl became secure in
her rights. But finally, when William of Prussia and Franz Josef of
Austria congratulated the duke, everybody else fell into line, and every
troop in the duchy came to Dreiberg to the celebration. Then the world
ran away in pursuit of other adventures, and forgot all about her serene
highness.