The lights of the inn cheered me and lifted the gloom.  Should I enter by stealth or boldly?  I chose the second method.  Gretchen and the innkeeper were in the old hall.  I entered and threw my traps into a corner.  As they turned and saw me consternation was written on their faces.

“I have found you at last,” I said, holding out a hand to each of them.  The innkeeper thrust his hands behind his back and sauntered leisurely toward the window.  Gretchen showed signs of embarrassment, and her eyes were studiously fixed on the cracks which yawned here and there in the floor.  My hands fell unnoticed.

“You have been looking for us?” she asked in even tones.  “Why have you?”

Vaguely I gazed at her, at the innkeeper, then at my traps in the corner.  It was apparent that I was an intruder.  I struck my forehead in anger and despair.  Triple fool that I was!  I was nothing to her.  She had told me so, and I had not believed.

“Yes; why?” asked the innkeeper, turning around.

“I believe,” said I, my voice trembling, “that I am an unwelcome guest.  Is it not so?”

“Oh, as for that,” said the innkeeper, observing Gretchen, “this is a public inn, on the highway.  All wayfarers are of necessity welcome.”

“Go, then, and prepare me a supper,” said I.  “I am indeed hungry, having journeyed far.”  I wanted him out of the room.

The innkeeper appeared not to have the slightest intention of leaving the room to do my bidding.

“Yes, Hermann,” said Gretchen, coloring, “go and prepare Herr Winthrop’s supper.”

“Thank you,” said I, with a dismal effort to be ironical.

The innkeeper, a puzzling smile on his lips, passed out.

“Gretchen,” I burst forth, “in heaven’s name what does this mean?  I have hunted for you day after day, week after week, month after month.  I have traveled the four ends of the continent.  I have lived—­Oh, I do not know how I have lived!  And when I do find you, it is for this!” My voice broke, and I was positively on the verge of tears.

“And was all this fair to her?” asked Gretchen, coldly.

“To her?  I do not understand.”

“I mean, was all this fair to my sister?”

“Gretchen,” a light piercing the darkness, “has she not written to you?”

“A long time ago.  She wanted to see me on an important matter, but I could not change my plans at the time.  I shall see her at the palace next week.  Ought you not to be with her instead of here?”

“Why should I be with her?”

Gretchen laughed, but the key was false.

“Are you not going to marry her?  Surely, it is easy after the King has given his permission.  Have you already fallen out of love with her, after all your efforts to make her a Princess?  Truly, man is as unstable as sand and water!  Ah, but you fooled us all to the top of our bent.  You knew from the first that she was a Princess; but you could not find the proofs.  Hermann and I were the means to the end.  But who shall blame you?  Not I!  I am very grateful to you for having given to me a sister.  And if you fooled me, I returned measure for measure.  It is game and quit.  Time hung heavy on my hands, and the victory, however short, was amusing.”