“A woman!” exclaimed Maurice. “And alone this time of morning!”
“Eh?” cried the prince; “and heading for the duchy? Let us wait.”
They drew up to the side of the highway. The woman came fearlessly on, her animal's head down and his tail flaring out behind. On, on; abreast of them; as she flew past there was a vision of a pale, determined face, a blond head bared to the chill wind. She heeded not their challenge; it was a question whether or not she heard it. They stood watching her until she and her horse dwindled into a mere moving speck, finally to become lost altogether in a crook of the road.
“I should like to know what that means,” said Maurice.
“It is very strange,” the prince said, musingly. “I have seen that woman before. She is one of the dancers at the opera.”
“Mayhap she has a lover on the other side.”
“Mayhap. Let us be on. There's the sun, and we are a good thirteen miles away!” and the prince slapped the neck of his horse, which bounded forward.
This tiring pace they maintained until they mounted the hill from which they could see the glittering spires of the city, and the Werter See as it flashed back the sunlight.
It was ten o'clock when they passed under the city gates.
“Monsieur, will you go with me to the palace?” asked the prince.
“If your Highness will excuse me,” said Maurice; “no, I should be in the way; and besides I am dead for want of sleep.”
“I shall never sleep,” grumbled the prince, “till I have humbled that woman. And you? Have you no rankle in your heart? Have you no desire to witness that woman's humiliation?”
“Your Highness, I belong to a foreign country.”
“No matter; be my aide. Come; I offer you a complete revenge for the treatment you have received at Madame's hands. Your government shall never know.”
Maurice studied the mane of his horse. Suddenly he made a gesture. This gesture consigned to the four winds his diplomatic career. “I accept,” he said. “You will find me at the Continental. I confess that I have no love for this woman. She has robbed me of no little conceit.”
“To the palace, then; to the palace! And this hour to-morrow we, you and I, will drink to her Royal Highness at the Red Chateau. To the palace!”
Up the Strasse they raced, through the lower town to the upper, and down the broad asphalt to the palace gates. The prince rushed his horse to the very bars and shook them in his wild impatience.