"Hark!"

We all listened intently. The sound of beating hoofs came distinctly.
A single horseman was galloping along the highway toward the castle.
The sound grew nearer and nearer; presently it ceased. I rose quietly.

"It is time I hid myself, for doubtless this rider is the man."

The princess paled for a moment, while her companion nervously plucked
at the edges of her handkerchief.

"Go," said the former; "and be watchful."

I then took up my position behind the portières. Truly I had stumbled
into an adventure; but how to stumble out again? If the duke got wind
of it, it would mean my recall, and I was of a mind, just then, that I
was going to be particularly fond of Barscheit.

All was silent. A door closed, and then came the tread of feet. I
peered through the portières shortly to see the entrance of two men,
one of whom was the old caretaker. His companion was a dark, handsome
fellow, of Hungarian gipsy type. There was a devil-may-care air about
him that fitted him well. It was Steinbock. He was dressed with
scrupulous care, in spite of the fact that he wore riding clothes. It
is possible that he recognized the importance of the event. One did
not write one's name under a princess' signature every day, even in
mockery. There was a half-smile on his face that I did not like.

"Your Highness sees that I am prompt,"--uncovering.