"Nay, it is the Princess," said a voice at the door, and a woman swept into the chamber. "Von Rosen, you had best stay with us. Now, sir, what is it that you have to say to either Prince or Princess of Saxe-Felstein?"
At the first sound of the voice I had sprung to my feet. At the first glance I had thrilled with anger. Not twice in a lifetime does one meet that noble figure, that queenly head, and those eyes as blue as the Garonne, and as chilling as her winter waters.
"Time presses, sir!" she cried, with an impatient tap of her foot. "What have you to say to me?"
"What have I to say to you?" I cried. "What can I say, save that you have taught me never to trust a woman more? You have ruined and dishonoured me for ever."
She looked with arched brows at her attendant.
"Is this the raving of fever, or does it come from some less innocent cause?" said she. "Perhaps a little blood-letting"
"Ah, you can act!" I cried. "You have shown me that already."
"Do you mean that we have met before?"
"I mean that you have robbed me within the last two hours."
"This is past all bearing," she cried, with an admirable affectation of anger. "You claim, as
