“It was sure to come,” said Margaret.  “The duke’s bravery led him always into danger.  It is God’s will, and it must be right.”

The princess walked to the window, and said nothing, until I was about to leave; then she turned to me nervously and asked:—­

“Did—­did Sir Max come with you?”

I looked at her in surprise, and glanced inquiringly toward the duchess.

“My mother knows all, Sir Karl,” said the princess, reassuringly.  “There have been many things which I could not have done without her help.  I have made many rapid changes, Sir Karl, from a princess to a burgher girl, and back again, and I should have failed without my mother’s help.  I surely mystified you often before you knew of the stairway in the wall.  Indeed, I have often hurried breathless to Uncle Castleman’s house to deceive you.  Mother invented a burgher girl’s costume that I used to wear as an under-bodice and petticoat, so, you see, I have been visiting you in my petticoats.  I will show you some fine day—­perhaps.  I have but to unfasten a half-score of hooks, and off drops the princess—­I am Yolanda!  I throw a skirt over my head, fasten the hooks of a bodice, don my head-dress, and behold! the princess once more.  Only a moment intervenes between happiness and wretchedness.  But tell me, Sir Karl, have you ever told Sir Max who I am?”

“Never, Your Highness—­”

“Yolanda,” she interrupted, correcting me smilingly.

“Never, Yolanda,” I responded.  “He does not even suspect that you are the princess.  I shall be true to you.  You know what you are doing.”

“Indeed I do, Sir Karl,” she replied.  “I shall win or lose now in a short time and in short skirts.  If Max will wed me as Yolanda, I shall be the happiest girl on earth.  If not, I shall be the most wretched.  If he learns that I am the princess, and if I must offer him the additional inducement of my estates and my domains to bring him to me, I shall not see him again, Sir Karl, if I die of grief for it.”

I knew well what she meant, but I did not believe that she would be able to hold to her resolution if she were put to the test.  I was, however, mistaken.  With all my knowledge of the girl I did not know her strength.

We reached Peronne during the afternoon and, of course, went early the same evening to Castleman’s.

We were greeted heartily by the good burgher, his wife, and his daughter.  Twonette courtesied to Max, but when she came to me, this serene young goddess of pink and white offered me her cheek to kiss.  I, who had passed my quasi-priestly life without once enjoying such a luxury, touched the velvet cheek with my lips and actually felt a thrill of delight.  Life among the burghers really was delicious.  I tell you this as a marked illustration of the fact that a man never grows too old to be at times a fool.  Twonette slipped from the room, and within fifteen minutes returned.  She went directly to Max and said:—­