All had gone well but for one serious omission:  Hedwig had not appeared to be taken up; yet he had not mistaken the streets laid down in the itinerary.  But once outside the walls, he was forced to go slowly and foresaw the moment when he must stop.  It was hazardous to inquire, for, while he was dressed, by the hotel-keeper’s provision, like a citizen of Munich, he had not the speech of the residents.

In his quandary he was greatly relieved when the horse pricked up his ears and gave a whinny in a kind of recognition.  Claudius glanced to the roadside gladly and hopefully, as a young, feminine figure stepped out from the cover of a post painted in stripes to indicate parish, township and other boundary marks.  But although the short frock, coarse woolen stockings, cap and velvet bodice were Hedwig’s Sunday clothes, sure enough, in which the student had once seen the pretty maid, this girl was no rustic slightly polished by the hotel experience.

He felt his heart melt like wax in a cast when the bronze rushes within the clay—­it was Kaiserina von Vieradlers!

A strange feeling nearly mastered him!  Instinct bade him run and, whipping the horse, flee at the top of speed anywhere beyond the charm of this unexpected apparition.  And yet she came forward so brightly, and so frankly, and her first words were so reassuring that he was ashamed of the impulse which—­he was yet to know—­had all the worth of heavenly inspired suggestions.

“Herr Student!” she said sweetly, “it is fated that I shall be of service to you.  Do not go farther in this course.  They lie in wait for you.  Luckily, I know of a cross-country lane—­if you will only let me accompany you to set you right, and help me to roll some stones and logs from the mouth.  It saves time, and you will baffle your foes.  Oh, I know all.  The faithful Hedwig, whose clothes I have borrowed, is a daughter of a tenant on my father’s estate.  She means well, but she has no brains for these steps out of her even tenor, and she was glad to have me replace her in her mission.  Help me up!”

There was no denying her anything.  The horse had appeared to greet her with pleasure, though it was probably the clothes of Hedwig that he recognized with the whinny after a sonorous sniff.

As she held out her hand, he offered his and, like a fawn clearing a hedge, she bounded up, just touched with a winged foot the iron step, and cleared the seat with a second leap.  Crouching down within the hood, she began merrily but spoke with gravity before she had finished: 

“Drive on after turning.”

He turned the horse and vehicle.  At the same moment a shrill whistle sounded in the opposite direction.

“That’s the gendarmes,” she said.  “The watchman’s horn in the old town; the military whistle without.  They are keeping good guard for you—­but we shall cheat them, I tell you again!”

She laughed that purely feminine laugh at the prospect of somebody being deceived.