A flicker--but only a flicker--of admiration lighted the duke's eyes.

It was a plucky little baggage.

"I will issue your passports upon one condition," he said.

"And that condition?"--proudly.

"Tell me everything: Where has she gone, and with whom?"

"I know absolutely nothing."

Silence. The duke gnawed his mustache, while his eyes strove in vain

to beat down hers.

"Thank you, I believe you." Then, giving way to his wrath: "You

English people, you are all the same! You never understand. I have

brought up this girl and surrounded her with every luxury; against my

will and reason I have let her become educated in foreign lands; I have

given her the utmost freedom; this is how I am repaid."

"You forgot one important thing, your Highness."

"What?"--haughtily.

"Affection. You have never gives her that."

The duke felt himself beaten into silence, and this did not add to his

amiability.

"Your passports shall be made out immediately; but I beg of you to

reconsider your determination, and to remain here as long as you

please. For the sake of appearances, I desire your presence at the

dinner-table."

"I shall leave as soon as the dinner is over." This girl's mind seemed

immovable.

The duke shrugged. There was no use in beating against this wall. "I

wish you knew whither she has gone."

"Frankly, if I knew I should not tell your Highness. My father taught

me never to betray a confidence."

"As you will. I beg your pardon for the abruptness of my entrance," he

said, choking down his wrath. He could not allow himself to be

out-done in the matter of coolness by this chit of an English girl.

"I grant it you."

The duke then retired, or, I should say, retreated. He wandered

aimlessly about the palace, waiting for news and making wretched all

those with whom he came in contact. The duchess was not feeling well;

a wrangle with her was out of the question; besides, he would make

himself hoarse. So he waited and waited, and re-read the princess'

letter. At dinner he ate nothing; his replies were curt and surly.

The Honorable Betty also ate nothing. She sat, wondering if her maid

could pack five trunks in two hours.

I had quite a time of it myself that night. As I predicted, I received

a visit from the police in regard to Mr. Scharfenstein. I explained

the matter the best I knew how, and confessed that he had hurriedly

left the city for parts unknown. I did not consider it absolutely

essential that I should declare that I had seen him enter a railway

carriage for Dresden. Besides this, I had to stand sponsor for the

other boys and explain at length that they were in no wise concerned

with Mr. Scharfenstein's great offense. The police were courteous and

deferential, admitting that Max was the culprit. He had drawn a

revolver in a public restaurant; he had broken a grave law. The

inspector wrote a dozen telegrams and despatched them from the

consulate. I had, at his request, offered him the blanks.




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