“Come, baroness, we will go together.”

When the count assisted his veiled companion into the carriage, and took his seat by her side, not even Henry could have told that it was not his young mistress from the castle who was going to drive, as usual, with her guardian.

It was with a singular feeling that Count Vavel looked at the woman beside him, to whom he was bound for one hour by the strongest, most dangerous of ties.  Only for one hour!  For this one hour the woman belonged to him as wholly, as entirely as the soul belongs to the living human being.  And afterward?  Afterward she would be no more to him than is the vanished soul to the dead human being.

The carriage had arrived at the boundary of the neighboring village, where the usual turn was made for the homeward drive, and they had not yet seen any one.  Had Colonel Barthelmy’s words been merely an idle threat?

Henry knew that he was not to drive beyond this point; he mechanically turned the horses’ heads in the homeward direction, as he had done every day for years.

On the return drive the carriage always stopped at the edge of the forest, where a shaded path led through the dense shrubbery to a cleared space some distance from the highway.  This was the spot for their daily promenade.

The count and his companion had gone but a short distance along the path when they saw coming toward them three men in uniform.  They were cavalry officers.  The two in the rear had on white cloaks; the one in front was without, an outer garment—­merely his close-fitting uniform coal.

“That is Barthelmy,” whispered the baroness, pressing the arm on which she was leaning.

The count’s expression of calm indifference did not change.  He walked with a firm step toward the approaching officers.

Very soon they stood face to face.

The colonel was a tall, distinguished-looking man; he carried his head well upright, and every movement spoke of haughty self-confidence and pride.

“Herr Count Vavel, I believe?” he began, halting in front of Ludwig and his companion.  “Allow me to introduce myself; I am Colonel Vicomte Leon Barthelmy.”

Count Vavel murmured something which gave the colonel to understand that he (the count) was very glad to learn the gentleman’s name.

“I have long desired to make your acquaintance,” continued the colonel (his companions had halted several paces distant).  “I was so unfortunate as not to find you at home the three calls I made at your castle.  Now, however, I shall take this opportunity to say to you what I wanted to say then.  First, however, let me introduce my friends,”—­waving his hand toward the two officers,—­“Captain Kriegeisen and Lieutenant Zagodics, of Emperor Alexander’s dragoons.”

Count Vavel again gave utterance to his pleasure on making the acquaintance of the colonel’s friends.  Then he said courteously: