back again. That she was the princess seemed at one moment indubitably
true; the next moment it appeared absurdly impossible. Still,
Castleman's words rang in my ears.

I was glad that Max was riding a hundred yards behind me. My first
determination was that he should know nothing of what I had heard. My
second was that he and I should leave the party at Metz. If I were to
disclose to Max my suspicions concerning Yolanda, I well knew that it
would be beyond my power or that of any man to prevent his journeying
to Peronne.

This meeting with the princess far from home, one might suppose, was the
event of all others that I desired, but the situation presented many
points to be considered. If we should conduct Yolanda to Peronne and
should reach that city after the duke's arrival, there would be untold
trouble for us, if (oh, that mighty if!) she were the Princess Mary. I
was thoroughly frightened, since I could not know what trouble I might
bring to Max. We might, with comparative safety, visit Peronne at a
later period; but I sincerely hoped that Yolanda would offer Max to the
Virgin when we reached Metz.

If Yolanda were the princess, and if the duke with his intentions
regarding her immediate marriage, should reach Peronne and find his
daughter absent, his wrath against all concerned would be unappeasable.
If he should learn that she had been absent from Peronne on this
journey, even though she reached home before her father, Castleman would
probably lose his head for the crime of taking her, and all concerned in
the journey might meet with evil fortune. Any of these catastrophes
might occur if she were the princess. If she were not the princess, some
other great catastrophe, hinted by Castleman and dreaded by Yolanda,