Arms and the Woman

"I see that there is nothing to be gotten from you." Then the Prince

directed his glance to me. "And you, sir; what is she to you? What is

her Serene Highness to you?"

"She is everything in the world to me," said I.

The consternation which followed cannot be described here. The Count

stepped back, dumb-founded. Hillars regarded me as though he thought I

had suddenly gone mad. The countenance of the Prince alone remained

unruffled.

"Count," he said, laughing, "it seems that the Princess gathers lovers

as a woolen coat does teasels. Her lovers--there must now be a

legion!"

"You lie!" said Hillars, in an oddly suppressed tone. "You know that

you lie."

The Prince's lips drew to a thin line, but that was all.

"Still, who will disprove it?" he asked.

"If you will allow me," said a voice behind us.

We beheld the Princess framed in the doorway. There was a pallor and a

look of utter weariness in her face. At the sight of her the Count

uncovered and the Prince rose.

"Your arrival is quite timely," said he. "Here are two champions of

yours. Come, which do you love?"

A fury sprang to my head, and I said, "You have too much confidence in

our patience. I warn you that I have no fear of the sabres back of

you."

The same sabres leapt from their scabbards and fell stiffly against

their owners' shoulders, instinctively.

"Has it come to this," said the Princess, a superb scorn in her eyes,

"that my honor must needs be defended by strangers and aliens?" For

the briefest space her glance plunged into my eyes. She moved toward

the Prince. "And you, sir, are to be my husband?"

"It is the will of the King," said the Prince, a mocking smile on his

lips.

How I lusted for his blood!

"And though my honor is doubtful," went on the woman I loved, "you

still would marry me?"

"Your Highness," said the Prince, with a bow which entailed the

sweeping of his hands, "I would marry you were your honor as--"

"Hell!" roared Hillars in English.

But he was a moment too late. My hands were around the throat of

Prince Ernst of Wortumborg, and I was shaking him till his teeth

chattered on each other like castanets. Surely I would have throttled

him but for the intervention of the Count and the cavalrymen. The

Count swung his arm around my neck, while the cavalrymen, their sabre

points at Hillars' breast, wrenched loose my hands. I stood glaring at

him, panting and furious. He leaned against the table, gasping and

coughing. Finally he recovered his composure.