“And that is not all,” continued Ilse.  “A Prussian prince was here, a fine and gallant man, tall and young.  He, too, is at the feet of the lovely Mademoiselle Julie.  I heard him say that he had seen her before she was brought to Zillenstein.”

John’s pulses suddenly beat hard.  He knew instinctively the identity of the Prussian prince, but he asked quietly: 

“What was the man from Prussia called?”

“Prince Wilhelm von Arnheim.  I was present when he first saw here the beautiful Mademoiselle Julie.  He bent before her and kissed her hand, as if she were a princess herself.  The look that he gave her was full of love, and it was also most respectful.  I, Ilse Brandt, know.”

“I’ve no doubt of it, because you’ve received many such looks yourself, beautiful Ilse,” said John.

“There she is now!  At the window!” exclaimed Olga.

John looked at once, and his heart leaped within him.  Julie stood framed in a window, high up in the new part of the castle.  The light seemed to fall upon her, as one turns it in a flood upon a picture, and her figure was in the center of a glow that brought out the coppery touches in the wonderful golden hair, that was the marvel of everybody.  She seemed to be gazing wistfully over the misty mountains, and John’s heart was full of yearning.

“I can’t believe,” said Ilse, “that she is a spy or has ever been a spy.  She has not the look, nor the manner.  When the Prince von Arnheim was here they gave a great dinner, and Prince Karl bade her come to it.  I took her a beautiful dress of his niece, who is away in Vienna.  I thought she would refuse, but she said that she would come as Prince Karl requested.  I was her maid, I dressed her and she was very beautiful.  She went to the dinner, and the aged Lady Ursula, the cousin and dependent of the prince, sat with her.”

“What happened?” asked John in a low voice.

“I think it was their intention at first to remind her that she was a prisoner.  Prince Karl is a hard and stern man, and he would bend her to his will, but the Prince Wilhelm frowned upon them all, and the Count Kratzek was also most respectful.”

“They had brought her to complete their triumph and instead the triumph was hers,” John could not keep from saying.

“It is so,” admitted Ilse.  “They were abashed before her, and at the last when they drank a toast to the glorious victory of our German race, she withheld her glass, and then, taking a sip of the wine, she said she wished with all her heart, as long as it should beat in her body, for the triumph of France.  That, too, I saw, and while I do not wish for the triumph of France it was thrilling to see but one and a girl defying so many strong men.”

“I wish I had been there to see,” murmured John.

“What did you say?” asked Olga.

“That only a very brave woman could have done such a thing.”

“She is brave.  She does not fear any of them, and the woman Suzanne with her has a tiger’s temper.”