“I know you,” said a harsh voice at my elbow.  It startled me, and I wheeled swiftly.  It was the lieutenant’s brother officer.  “I thought from what I heard of you that you were a man worth trouble and caution.  Ach! you, the man we have scoured the country for?  I should not have believed it.  To let a woman fight for him!  And she—­she is more than a woman—­she is a goddess!” with enthusiasm.  “If I was betrothed to her I’d find her if I had to hunt in heaven and hell for her.  And what does she see in you?” He snapped his fingers derisively.  “I warn you that your race is run.  You cannot leave a railway station within the radius of a hundred miles.  The best thing you can do is to swim the river and stop in the middle.  The Prince is at the village, and he shall know.  Woe to you, you meddler!”

“Young man,” said a voice from over my shoulder, from the doorway, “you should by right address those impertinent remarks to me.  I am Hillars, the man you seek.”

And I had forgotten his very existence!  What did he know?  What had he seen?

“You may inform Count von Walden,” continued Dan, “that I shall await his advent with the greatest of impatience.  Now let me add that you are treating this gentleman with much injustice.  I’ll stake my life on his courage.  The Princess Hildegarde is alone responsible for what has just happened.”

“The Princess Hildegarde!” I cried.

Hillars went on:  “Why she did this is none of your business or mine.  Why she substituted herself concerns her and this gentleman only.  Now go, and be hanged to you and your Prince and your Count, and your whole stupid country.  Come, Jack.”

The fellow looked first at me, then at Dan.

“I apologize,” he said to Dan, “for mistaking this man for you.”  He clicked his heels, swung around, and marched off.

“Come,” said Dan.

I dumbly followed him up to my room.  He struck a match and lit the candle.

“Got any tobacco?” he asked, taking out a black pipe.  “I have not had a good smoke in a week.  I want to smoke awhile before I talk.”

I now knew that he had been a witness to all, or at least to the larger part of it.

“There is some tobacco on the table,” I said humbly.  I felt that I had wronged him in some manner, though unintentionally.  “The Princess Hildegarde!” I murmured.

“The very person,” said Hillars.  He lit his pipe and sat on the edge of the bed.  He puffed and puffed, and I thought he never would begin.  Presently he said:  “And you never suspected who she was?”

“On my word of honor, I did not, Dan,” said I, staring at the faded designs in the carpet.  The golden galleon had gone down, and naught but a few bubbles told where she had once so proudly ridden the waters of the sea.  The Princess Hildegarde?  The dream was gone.  Castles, castles!  “I am glad you did not know,” said Dan, “because I have always believed in your friendship.  Yet, it is something we cannot help—­this loving a woman.  Why, a man will lay down his life for his friend, but he will rob him of the woman he loves.  It is life.  You love her, of course.”