He saw Auersperg take off his gorgeous hat and bow low before the young Julie.  Then they walked together on the terrace, the dark shadow of Suzanne following, but further behind now.

John’s heart was filled with a fierce and consuming rage.  The presence of Auersperg, magnificent, triumphant, powerful, a medieval baron here in the most medieval of all settings, a very monarch indeed, brought him back to earth.  What could he do alone in the face of so much might?  What could Julie herself do, helpless, before so much pressure?  And, after all, from his point of view and from the point of view from his class, Auersperg was making her a great offer, one that nobles in the two empires would hold to be most honorable.  For the first time he felt a tremor of doubt, and then he stilled it as base and unworthy.  The very word “morganatic” was repulsive to him.  It implied that the man stooped, and that the woman surrendered something no real wife could yield.  Julie, whose blood was the blood of the great republican marshal, would never submit to such a wrong.

John presently saw someone standing on the steps of the terrace, and as he turned with the horse, he beheld a wild and jealous face.  It was young Kratzek, and he was watching Auersperg and Julie.  He was only a lad, this Austrian noble, but John’s heart felt a touch of sympathy.  A common love made them akin and he knew that Kratzek’s love like his own was the love of youth, high and pure.  He felt neither hate nor jealousy of the Austrian.

His eyes went back to Julie and Auersperg.  Their faces were turned toward him now and he could see that it was the prince who talked and that Julie listened, saying but little.  The thud of hoofs on the road into the valley came to him and Pappenheim, on his great black horse, galloped into view.  But he pulled to a walk when he saw the two on the terrace, and John smiled to himself in grim irony.  Pappenheim also loved the ground upon which the young Julie walked.  Von Arnheim and von Boehlen should be there, too, and then the jealous circle would be complete.

Kratzek presently walked away, and Pappenheim rode slowly past the castle and out of sight.  Julie turned from the prince and looked fixedly for a little while in John’s direction.  He felt that she meant it as a sign, and he was eager to reply in some way, but prudence held him.  Then she went into the castle and Auersperg was left alone on the terrace.

John saw that Prince Karl of Auersperg was very thoughtful.  He walked slowly back and forth, his figure magnified in the sun’s glow, and now and then he thoughtfully stroked his great brown beard.  He seemed to John more than ever out of place.  His time was centuries ago among the robber barons.  In such a group he would not have been the worst, but in his soul John wished that the hour for all such as he had come.  If the great war struck that dead trunk from the living body of the human race it would not be fought wholly in vain.