"
He stood on the sill of the door, a handsome picture. His gray eyes
sparkled, his face was full of excitement and there was a color in his
cheeks. There was no sign here of the dissipated man of the night
before. It was Hillars as I had seen him in the old days. But for his
19th century garb, he might have just stepped down from a frame--a
gallant by Fortuny, who loved the awakened animal in man. The poise
was careless, but graceful, and the smile was debonair. His eyes were
holding Gretchen's. A moment passed; another and another.
Then: "Long live and God bless her Serene Highness the Princess
Hildegarde!" And he was gone.
And as he disappeared a shadow of some sort passed before my eyes, and
a something dull and heavy pressed upon my heart. Presently came the
sound of beating hoofs, and then all became still.
Gretchen and I were alone.
Gretchen appeared to be studying the blue veins in her hands which she
listlessly held before her. An interval of three or four minutes
passed, still she remained in that pathetic attitude, silent and
motionless.
"Gretchen," said I, "have you nothing to say?"
"Yes.
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