“Can he—­your companion—­ride?  The horses are under saddle.  If not—­”

Clemenceau replied in the affirmative to Fraulein von Vieradlers, instead of to the gentleman.  He conceived an aversion to him on the spot, although his intention to include him in the pre-arranged flight was manifest.  But he was the victim of circumstances and for the present he had to yield.  Besides, the prospect held out was for him to continue beside the dazzling beauty, whose influence seemed more wide than her deceased ancestress.

Like many bookworms, he had entertained a humiliating opinion of the sex that makes the world move round; he was beginning to doubt, and he would retract it before long.

Kaiserina related the events briefly, while one of the farmers brought two magnificent saddle-horses round to the long, high side of the house, facing the northwest.  Clemenceau mechanically mounted the bay, and the gentleman assisted the lady upon the black.  Both animals were impatient to be gone, and when given the head, started off madly.  This exciting pace roused the student from his lethargy, and when the steeds had settled down to a less frenzied gait, he asked what was his guide’s intention.

“It is plain.  You must be put across the border into France.”

“France!” it seemed to him, since the revelation of his birth in that country, that the name had a charm unknown heretofore.  Yes, he ought to make a pilgrimage into that sunny land where his father had been a gem in its artistic crown.

“It is your native country and you will be safer there than in Italy or Austria.  Our next stage will be the little railway station to which you may see that long double silver serpent, the metal tracks, stretching across the plain.”

CHAPTER IX.

REPARATION.

Fortunately for the fugitives, the poorly paid railway officials in these parts are the obsequious servants of those who liberally bribe.  The station-master, though a very grand personage, indeed, in his uniform and metal-bound cap, became pliant as an East Indian waiter and accepted without question the explanation of the lady.  It was she who was spokesman throughout.  She said that she and her companion were play-actors and that their baggage was detained by a cruel manager of a Munich musical beer-hall; this was a wise admission as the man might have seen her at the Harmonista, or, at least, her photograph in the doorway.  But they were compelled to reach Lucerne without delay or lose a profitable engagement, by the proceeds of which they could redeem their paraphernalia.  While listening, the man dealt out the tickets, pocketed the gratuity which was handsomely added to a previous donation, and, without any surprise, agreed to let any one calling take away the horses; they certainly were above the means of strolling singers who had to flee from a town.  Farther discussion, if he had sought it, was curtailed by the electric signal heralding the coming of a train.  In eight minutes, the two were ensconced in a first-class compartment and hurried along toward the Land of Lakes.