Then she entered the closed carriage and was driven up the dark,

tree-enshrouded road that led to the Castle of Doppelkinn.

"What are you going to do with me?" Max asked, as he gathered up the

reins of his mount.

"That we shall discuss later. Like as not something very unpleasant.

For one thing you are passing under a forged passport. You are _not_

an American, no matter how well you may speak that language. You are a

German."

"There are Germans in the United States, born and bred there, who speak

German tolerably well," replied Max easily. He was wondering if it

would not be a good scheme to tell a straightforward story and ask to

be returned to Barscheit. But that would probably appeal to the

officer that he was a coward and was trying to lay the blame on the

princess.

"I do not say that I can prove it," went on the colonel; "I simply

affirm that you are a German, even to the marrow."

"You have the advantage of the discussion." No; he would confess

nothing. If he did he might never see the princess again. . . . The

princess! As far away as yonder stars! It was truly a very

disappointing world to live in.

"Now, then, forward!" cried the colonel to his men, and they set off at

a sharp trot.

From time to time, as a sudden twist in the road broke the straight

line, Max could see the careening lights of the princess' carriage. A

princess! And he was a man without a country or a name!




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