She saw his face flush, and then he turned laughing eyes upon her.

“I am looking for a safe landing,” he said.

Emma von der Tann did not know whether to be frightened or amused.  As her eyes met the clear, gray ones of the man she could not believe that insanity lurked behind that laughing, level gaze of her carrier.  She found herself continually forgetting that the man was mad.  He had turned toward the bank now, and a couple of steps carried them to the low sward that fringed the little brooklet.  Here he lowered her to the ground.

“Your majesty is very strong,” she said.  “I should not have expected it after the years of confinement you have suffered.”

“Yes,” he said, realizing that he must humor her—­it was difficult to remember that this lovely girl was insane.  “Let me see, now just what was I in prison for?  I do not seem to be able to recall it.  In Nebraska, they used to hang men for horse stealing; so I am sure it must have been something else not quite so bad.  Do you happen to know?”

“When the king, your father, died you were thirteen years old,” the girl explained, hoping to reawaken the sleeping mind, “and then your uncle, Prince Peter of Blentz, announced that the shock of your father’s death had unbalanced your mind.  He shut you up in Blentz then, where you have been for ten years, and he has ruled as regent.  Now, my father says, he has recently discovered a plot to take your life so that Peter may become king.  But I suppose you learned of that, and because of it you escaped!”

“This Peter person is all-powerful in Lutha?” he asked.

“He controls the army,” the girl replied.

“And you really believe that I am the mad king Leopold?”

“You are the king,” she said in a convincing manner.

“You are a very brave young lady,” he said earnestly.  “If all the mad king’s subjects were as loyal as you, and as brave, he would not have languished for ten years behind the walls of Blentz.”

“I am a Von der Tann,” she said proudly, as though that was explanation sufficient to account for any bravery or loyalty.

“Even a Von der Tann might, without dishonor, hesitate to accompany a mad man through the woods,” he replied, “especially if she happened to be a very—­a very—­” He halted, flushing.

“A very what, your majesty?” asked the girl.

“A very young woman,” he ended lamely.

Emma von der Tann knew that he had not intended saying that at all.  Being a woman, she knew precisely what he had meant to say, and she discovered that she would very much have liked to hear him say it.

“Suppose,” said Barney, “that Peter’s soldiers run across us—­what then?”

“They will take you back to Blentz, your majesty.”

“And you?”

“I do not think that they will dare lay hands on me, though it is possible that Peter might do so.  He hates my father even more now than he did when the old king lived.”