With these words she turned proudly away from him, and going up to the Mameluke, they left the hall in deep and earnest conversation.  Philip laughed quietly, and said to himself:  “My substitute, the watchman, must look to it, for I do not play my part badly; I only hope when he returns he will proceed as I have begun.”

He went up to the dancers, and was delighted to see the beautiful Carmelite standing up in a set with the overjoyed Brahmin.  No sooner did the latter perceive him, than he kissed his hand to him, and in dumb-show gave him to understand in what a blessed state he was.  Philip thought:  ’T is a pity I am not to be prince all my life-time.  The people would be satisfied then; to be a prince is the easiest thing in the world.  He can do more with a single word than a lawyer with a four-hours’ speech.  Yes! if I were a prince, my beautiful Rose would be—­lost to me for ever.  No!  I would not be a prince.”  He now looked at the clock, and saw ’t was half-past eleven.  The Mameluke hurried up to him and gave him a paper.  “Prince,” he exclaimed, “I could fall at your feet and thank you in the very dust.  I am reconciled to my wife.  You have broken her heart; but it is better that it should be so.  We leave for Poland this very night, and there we shall fix our home.  Farewell!  I shall be ready whenever your Royal Highness requires me, to pour out my last drop of blood in your service.  My gratitude is eternal.  Farewell!”

“Stay!” said Philip to the Marshal, who was hurrying away, “what am I to do with this paper?”

“Oh, that,-’tis the amount of my loss to your Highness last week at hazard.  I had nearly forgotten it; but before my departure, I must clear my debts.  I have indorsed it on the back.”  With these words the Marshal disappeared.

V.

Philip opened the paper, and read in it an order for five thousand dollars.  He put it in his pocket, and thought:  “Well, it’s a pity that I’m not a prince.”  Some one whispered in his ear: 

“Your Royal Highness, we are both discovered; I shall blow my brains out.”

Philip turned round in amazement, and saw a negro at his side.

“What do you want, mask?” he asked, in an unconcerned tone.

“I am Colonel Kalt,” whispered the negro.  “The Marshal’s wife has been chattering to Duke Herman, and he has been breathing fire and fury against us both.”

“He is quite welcome,” answered Philip.

“But the King will hear it all,” sighed the negro.  “This very night I may be arrested and carried to a dungeon; I’ll sooner hang myself.”

“No need of that,” said Philip.

“What! am I to be made infamous for my whole life?  I am lost, I tell you.  The Duke will demand entire satisfaction.  His back is black and blue yet with the marks of the cudgelling I gave him.  I am lost, and the baker’s daughter too!  I’ll jump from the bridge and drown myself at once!”