That the princess should be abroad with Castleman and his daughter unattended by even a lady-in-waiting seemed improbable—­almost impossible.

My wavering mind veered with each moment from the conviction that Yolanda was the princess to a feeling of certainty that she was not, and 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, might happen; and it is well for disinterested persons to remain away from the scene of impending trouble.

Aside from all these good reasons for cutting short our journey to Peronne, was the fact that our motive for going there had ceased to exist.  The princess was soon to become the wife of the Dauphin.  If Yolanda were not the princess, there was still good reason why we should abandon her at Metz.  She was dangerously attractive and was gaining too great a hold on Max.  We were under contract to escort Castleman to Peronne, and no danger should prevent us from fulfilling our agreement; but if Castleman should voluntarily release us, our obligation would cease.

As we passed under the portcullis at Strasburg, Max spurred his horse to Yolanda’s side.  She neither lifted her veil nor gave any sign of recognition.  The news of impending war had been discussed, and Max supposed Yolanda was frightened.  He spoke reassuringly to her, and she answered:—­