He loved Emma von der Tann and he hated Barney Custer—­hated him with a jealous hatred that was almost fanatic in its intensity.  And even that the Princess Emma von der Tann would wed him were she free to wed was a question that was not at all clear in the mind of Barney Custer.  He knew something of the traditions of this noble family—­of the pride of caste, of the fetish of blood that inexorably dictated the ordering of their lives.

The girl had just said that the honor of her house was more precious than the life of any of its members.  How much more precious would it be to her than her own material happiness!  Barney Custer sighed and struggled through the swirling waters that were now above his hips.  If he pressed the lithe form closer to him than necessity demanded, who may blame him?

The girl, whose face was toward the bank they had just quitted, gave no evidence of displeasure if she noted the fierce pressure of his muscles.  Her eyes were riveted upon the wood behind.  Presently a man emerged.  He called to them in a loud and threatening tone.

Barney redoubled his Herculean efforts to gain the opposite bank.  He was in midstream now and the water had risen to his waist.  The girl saw Maenck and the other trooper emerge from the underbrush beside the first.  Maenck was crazed with anger.  He shook his fist and screamed aloud his threatening commands to halt, and then, of a sudden, gave an order to one of the men at his side.  Immediately the fellow raised his carbine and fired at the escaping couple.

The bullet struck the water behind them.  At the sound of the report the girl raised the gun she held and leveled it at the group behind her.  She pulled the trigger.  There was a sharp report, and one of the troopers fell.  Then she fired again, quickly, and again and again.  She did not score another hit, but she had the satisfaction of seeing Maenck and the last of his troopers dodge back to the safety of protecting trees.

“The cowards!” muttered Barney as the enemy’s shot announced his sinister intention; “they might have hit your highness.”

The girl did not reply until she had ceased firing.

“Captain Maenck is notoriously a coward,” she said.  “He is hiding behind a tree now with one of his men—­I hit the other.”

“You hit one of them!” exclaimed Barney enthusiastically.

“Yes,” said the girl.  “I have shot a man.  I often wondered what the sensation must be to have done such a thing.  I should feel terribly, but I don’t.  They were firing at you, trying to shoot you in the back while you were defenseless.  I am not sorry—­I cannot be; but I only wish that it had been Captain Maenck.”

In a short time Barney reached the bank and, helping the girl up, climbed to her side.  A couple of shots followed them as they left the river, but did not fall dangerously near.  Barney took the carbine and replied, then both of them disappeared into the wood.