frequently. Max told me the sorrowful little story of the day, and I did
not comment on it. I simply led him in another direction.

"Fräulein Yolanda's words have given me food for thought," I said. "So
long as Duke Charles lives, there can be no union between Burgundy and
Hapsburg; but at the pace he is travelling he will surely receive his
_coup de grâce_ before long, and I hope you will meet and know the
princess before the tragedy occurs. Then declare yourself and back your
claim with the duke's proposal, which has never been withdrawn. That the
people of Burgundy hate France and this French marriage there can be no
doubt. They are fools for so doing, but we may easily profit by their
lack of wisdom. In the event of the duke's death the inclinations of the
princess will be half the battle. So long as he lives they are no part
of it. If, by the help of Twonette, you should be so fortunate as to
meet the princess, our dream may be realized, and our house may become
the greatest in Europe."

"I suppose you are right, Karl," answered Max. "You are always right;
but I have no heart in this matter, and I hope nothing will come of it.
I have never known you to be so cold-blooded as in this affair."

"If you are to be hot-blooded, or even warm-blooded, you must turn your
back on your house and cast from you the duties and privileges of your
birth," I observed.

"You are right," he answered irritably. "But it will be difficult for me
to please one woman while thinking of another. Ah, Karl, I am growing
tired of this Burgundian dream. Dream? It is almost a nightmare."

Max's words did not alarm me; he was "chained to a throne." He would not