“I am very grateful for your courtesy,” she said.

“It is for the stranger to be grateful for your trust,” I answered.

She smiled,—­that smile was getting into my poor brain—­“A woman usually knows a gentleman,” she said.

I bowed.

“And under certain circumstances she likes to know his name,” she added.

For a moment I was undecided.  Should I tell her and claim my cousinship?  I was sorely tempted.  Then I saw what a mistake it would be,—­she would not believe it,—­and answered: 

“John Smith, Your Royal Highness, and your most obedient servant.”

She must have noticed my hesitation, for she studied my face an instant, then said, with a pause between each word and a peculiar stress on the name: 

“General—­Smith?”

“Simple Captain,” I answered.  “We do not climb so rapidly in our Army.”

Just then, from the barracks three miles away, came the boom of the evening gun.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, “I am late.  I must hasten.  Good-bye, mon Capitaine; you have been very kind.”

She drew off her gauntlet and extended her hand.  I bent and kissed,—­possibly too lingeringly,—­the little fingers.

“Farewell, Princess,” I said.  And then, half under my breath, I added:  “Till we meet again.”

She heard, and again that smile. “‘Auf Wiedersehen’ be it,” she answered.

Then she rode away.

I leaned against my horse’s shoulder and watched her as she went slowly down the hill, the full glory of the sinking sun upon her, and the shadows of the great trees close on either side.  Presently there came a bend in the road and, turning in the saddle, she waved her hand.

I answered with my hat.  Then she was gone.  That was how I met the Princess Royal of Valeria.  And, unless she has told it (which, somehow, I doubt), none knows it but ourselves.  I had never seen her since.  Perhaps that is why I was quite content for Courtney to win his bet.  Truly, a man’s heart does not age with his hair.

III

IN DORNLITZ AGAIN

The declaration of war by Titia had come so suddenly that when Courtney and I sailed for Europe, the Powers were still in the air and watching one another.  No battle had been fought; but the armies were frowning at each other on the frontier, and several skirmishes had occurred.

Ostensibly, the trouble was over a slice of territory which Henry the Third had taken from Titia as an indemnity for some real or fancied wrongs done him.  Valeria, with its great general and powerful army, was too strong in those days for Titia to do more than protest—­and, then, to take its punishment, which, for some reason that was doubtless sufficient to him.  Henry had seen fit to make as easy as it might be, by giving his daughter, Adela, to Casimir for wife.