And she illustrated the extremely vacant surprise into which her appearance paralyzed the infantry of her native city.

“I am glad my father left me here till he should come back.  Do you know, I like your house.  There are so many interesting things about it.  That funny axe over there is nice.  It looks as if it could cut things.  Has it ever cut anything?  It is so nicely polished.  How do you keep it so, and can I help you?”

“I had just finished polishing and oiling it before I fell asleep,” answered Gottfried Gottfried.  “You see, little Princess, I had very many things to cut with it last night.”

“What a pity the Prince had not time to wait and see you!  He is so very fond of going out into the forest with the woodman.  Once he took me to see the tallest tree in all our woods cut down with just such an axe as that—­only it was not red.  Have you ever seen a high tree cut down?”

“I have cut down some pretty tall ones myself!” said the Duke’s Justicer, smiling quietly at her.

“Ah, but not as tall as my father!  It is beautiful to see him strip his doublet and lay to.  They say there is not a woodman like him in all our land.”

Helene looked at my father, whose arms were folded in his great cloak.

“But you have fine strong arms too,” she said.  “You look as if you could cut things.  Did my father ever see you cut down tall trees?”

“Yes,” said Gottfried Gottfried, slowly, “once!”

“And did he say that you cut well?” the little maid went on, with a strange, wilful persistence in her idea.

“He neither said that I did well nor yet that I did ill,” replied Gottfried Gottfried.

“Ah!” said Helene, “that was just like the Prince.  He was afraid of flattering you and making you unfit for your work.  But if he said nothing, depend upon it he was pleased.”

“Thank you, Princess,” said my father.  “I think he was well enough pleased.”

Just then there came a noise that I knew—­a sound which chilled every bone in my body.

It was the clear ring of a steady footstep upon the pavement without.  It came heavily and slowly across the yard.  The outer hasp of our door clicked.  The door opened, and the footstep began to ascend the stair.

There was but one man in the world who dared make so free with the Red Tower and its occupant.  Our visitor was without doubt the Duke Casimir himself.

For the first time I saw my father manifestly disconcerted.  The little maid’s life might be worth no more than a torn ballad if Duke Casimir happened to be in evil humor or had repented him of his mercy of the past night.  I saw the Red Axe look aimlessly about for a hiding-place.  There was a niche round which certain cloaks and coverlets were hung.

“Come in here,” he said, abruptly.

“Why should I hide, whoever comes?” asked the Little Playmate, indignantly.

“It is the Duke Casimir,” whispered my father, hurriedly, stirred as I had never seen him.  “Come hither quickly!”