In Max's awakening, the radiance of his ideal may have been dimmed, but
if so, the words of Franz restored its lustre. If the boy's fancy had
wandered, it quickly returned to the lady of Burgundy.

I asked Franz if Duke Charles lived at Peronne.

"No, he lives at Ghent," he answered; "but on rare occasions he visits
Peronne, which is on the French border. Duke Philip once lived there,
but Charles keeps Peronne only as his watch-tower to overlook his old
enemy, France. The enmity, I hope, will cease, now that the Princess
Mary is to marry the Dauphin."

This confirmation of a rumor which I had already heard was anything but
welcome. However, it sensitized the feeling Max entertained for his
unknown lady-love, and strengthened his resolution to pursue his
journey to Burgundy at whatever cost.

I led Franz to speak of Burgundian affairs and he continued:--

"The princess and her stepmother, the Duchess Margaret, live at Peronne.
They doubtless found life at Ghent with the duke too violent. It is said
that the duchess is unhappily wedded to the fierce duke, and that the
unfortunate princess finds little favor in her father's eyes because he
cannot forgive her the grievous fault of being a girl."

While Franz was talking I was dreaming. A kind providence had led us a
half-hundred leagues out of our road, through wounds and hardships, to
Basel; but that quiet city might after all prove to be the open doorway
to Max's fortune. My air-castle was of this architecture: Max would win
old Castleman's favor--an easy task. We would journey to Peronne, seek