Chapter: The office of the American consulate in the Adlergasse ran from the
front to the rear of the building. Carmichael's desk overlooked the
street. But whenever a flying dream came to him he was wont to take his
pipe to the chair by the rear window, whence he could view the lofty
crests of the Jugendheit mountains. Directly below this window and
running parallel with it was the _Biergarten_ of the Black Eagle.

It is a quiet tonic to the mind to look off, to gaze at sunlit,
cloud-embraced mountain peaks, Walter Pater to the contrary.
Carmichael's mind that morning needed quiet, and so he came to this
window; and with a smoldering pipe let himself to dreams. He was still
in the uniform of the royal hunt, a meet having taken place that
morning. He saw darling faces in the rugged outlines of the mountains,
in the white clouds billowing across, in the patches of dazzling blue
in between. Such is the fancy of a man in love!

His letter of resignation was on its way, but it would be in November
before he heard definitely from the department. By that time the great
snows would have blanketed the earth, and the nadir of his discontent
would be reached. But what to do till that time? He could ride for some
weeks, but riding without companionship was rather a lonesome affair.
His own defiance of the chancellor had erected an impassable barrier
between her highness and himself. They would watch him now, evade him,
put small obstacles in his path, obstacles against which he could enter
no reasonable complaint. A withered leaf, a glove, and a fan; these
represented the sum of his romance.

Two figures moved in the garden beneath. At first he gave no attention
to them. But when the two heads came together swiftly, and then
separated, both smiling, he realized that he had witnessed a kiss. Ah,
here was the opportunity; and, by the Lord Harry, he would not let it
slip. If this fellow meant wrongly toward Gretchen--and how could he
mean else?--he, Carmichael, would take the matter boldly in his hands
to do some caning. He laughed. Here would be another souvenir; to have
caned--

He jumped to his feet, dropped his pipe on the sill of the window, and
made for his hat and sword-cane. The clerk went on with his writing.
Nothing the consul did these days either alarmed or distracted him.

To gain the garden Carmichael would have to pass through the tavern. The
first person he encountered was Colonel von Wallenstein. The sight of
this gentleman changed his plans for the moment. He had a presentiment
that this would became rather a complicated affair. He waited.
Wallenstein spoke to Fraeu Bauer, who answered him with cold civility.
She heartily despised this fine officer. Wallenstein twirled his
mustache, laughed and went into the garden. Carmichael was in a
quandary. What should he do?

Neither Gretchen nor the vintner saw Wallenstein, who remained quietly
by the door. He watched them with an evil smile. He would teach this
pretty fellow a lesson. After some deliberation he walked lightly toward
the lovers. They did not hear him till he was almost upon them.

"A pretty picture!"

Gretchen colored and the vintner flushed, the one with dismay and the
other with anger.

"A charming idyl!"

"Leave us, Gretchen," said the vintner, with a deceiving gentleness.

Gretchen started reluctantly down the path, her glance bravely before
her. She knew that Wallenstein would not move; so she determined to go
round him. She was not afraid to leave her vintner alone with this
officer. But she miscalculated the colonel's reckless audacity. As she
stepped off the path to go round him he grasped her rudely and kissed
her on the cheek. She screamed as much in surprise as in anger.

And this scream brought Carmichael upon the scene. He was witness to the
second kiss. He saw the vintner run forward and dash his fist into the
soldier's face. Wallenstein, to whom such an assault was unexpected,
fell back, hurt and blinded. The vintner, active as a cat, saw
Carmichael coming on a run. He darted toward him, and before Carmichael
could prevent him, dragged the sword-cane away. The blade, thin and
pliant, flashed. And none too soon. The colonel had already drawn his
saber.

"Save him!" Gretchen wrung her hands.

The two blades met spitefully, and there were method and science on both
sides. But the sword-cane was no match for the broad, heavy saber. Half
a dozen thrusts and parries convinced the colonel that the raging youth
knew what he was doing. Down swooped the saber cuttingly. The blade of
the sword-cane snapped like a pipe-stem. The vintner flung the broken
part at the colonel's head. The latter dodged it and came on, and there
was death's intent.

Meantime Carmichael had found a short hop-pole, and with this he took a
hand in the contest. The pole was clumsy, but the tough wood was
stronger than steel. He hit the saber with good-will. Back came the
steel. The colonel did not care whom or what he struck at now. When
Carmichael returned the compliment he swung his hop-pole as the old
crusaders did their broadswords. And this made short work of the duel.
The saber dropped uninjured, but the colonel's arm dangled at his side.
He leaned back against the arbor, his teeth set in his lip, for he was
in agony. Carmichael flung aside his primitive weapon, his anger abated
none.

"You're a fine example of a soldier! Are you mad to attack a man this
way? They will break you for this, or my name's not Carmichael. You
couldn't leave her in peace, could you? Well, those two kisses will
prove expensive."

"I shall kill you for this!"

"Bah! I have fought more times than you have years to your counting,"
with good Yankee spirit. "But if you think I'll waste my time in
fighting a duel with you, you're up the wrong tree."

"Go to the devil!"

"Not just at present; there's too much for me to do. But this is my
advice to you: apply for a leave of absence and take the waters of
Wiesbaden. They are good for choleric dispositions. Now, I return the
compliment: go to the devil yourself, only choose a route that will not
cross mine. That's all!"

Gretchen and the vintner had vanished. Carmichael agreed that it was the
best thing for them to do. The vintner was no coward, but he was
discreet. Somebody might ask questions. So Carmichael returned to the
consulate, equally indifferent what the colonel did or where he went. Of
the vintner he thought: "The hot-headed young fool, to risk his life
like that!" He would see later what he meant in regard to Gretchen. Poor
little goose-girl! They would find that there was one man interested
enough in her welfare to stand by her. His hands yet stung from the
contact of wood against steel, and his hair was damp at the edges. This
was a bit of old war-times.

"Are you hurt, Excellency?" asked the clerk solicitously.

"Hurt?"

"Yes. I heard a woman scream and ran to the window. It was a good fight.
But that fellow-_ach!_ To run away and leave you, an outsider, to fight
his battle!"

"He would have been sliced in two if I hadn't come to the front. A
hop-pole isn't half bad. I'll bet that lady's man has a bad arm for some
time to come. As for the vintner, he had good reasons for taking to his
heels."

"Good reasons?" But there was a sly look in the clerk's eyes.

"No questions, if you please. And tell no one, mind, what has taken
place."

"Very well, Excellency." And quietly the clerk returned to his table of
figures. But later he intended to write a letter, unsigned, to his
serene highness.

Carmichael, scowling, undertook to answer his mail, but not with any
remarkable brilliancy or coherency.

And in this condition of mind Grumbach found him; Grumbach, accompanied
by the old clock-mender from across the way, and a Gipsy Carmichael had
never seen before.

"What's up, Hans?"

"Tell your clerk to leave us," said Grumbach, his face as barren of
expression as a rock.

"Something serious, eh?" Carmichael dismissed the clerk, telling him to
return after the noon hour. "Now, then," he said, "what is the trouble?"

"I have already spoken to you about it," Grumbach returned. "The matter
has gone badly. But I am here to ask a favor, a great favor, one that
will need all your diplomacy to gain for me."

"Ah"

"For myself I ask nothing. A horrible blunder has been made. You will go
to the grand duke and ask immunity for this Gipsy and this clock-mender,
as witnesses to the disclosure which I shall make to his highness.
Without this immunity my lips will be sealed for ever. As I said, I ask
nothing for myself, nothing. There has been a great blunder and a great
wrong, too; but God sent me here to right it. Will you do this?"

"But I must know--," began Carmichael.

"You will know everything, once you obtain this concession from the
duke."

"But why don't you want immunity for yourself?"

"There must be some one for the duke to punish," heroically; "otherwise
he will refuse."

"Still, suppose I bargain for you, too?"

"When you tell him my name is Breunner there will be no bargaining."

"What has this clock-mender to do with the case?"

"He is Count von Arnsberg."

"By George! And this Gipsy?"

"The man who bribed me. Arnsberg is an innocent man; but this has to be
proved, and you are going to help us prove it."

All this was in English; the Gipsy and the former chancellor understood
little or nothing.

"I will do what I can, Hans, and I will let you know the result after
dinner to-night."

"That will be enough. But unless he concedes, do not tell him our names.
That would be ruin and nothing gained."

"You have me a bit dazed," Carmichael admitted. "I ought to know what
this blunder is, to have something to stand on."

Grumbach shook his head. "Later every question will be answered. And
remember, at this interview Herbeck must not be present. It will have to
be broken to him gently."

"Very well; I promise to see his highness this afternoon."

Grumbach translated the substance of this dialogue to his companions.
They approved. The three of them solemnly trooped out, leaving
Carmichael bewildered. Alone, his mind searched a thousand channels, but
these were blind and led nowhere. Blunder, wrong? What did Grumbach mean
by that? What kind of a blunder, and who was innocently wronged? No
use! And while he was thus racking his mind he heard steps on the
stairs. These steps were hurried. The door above shut noisily.

"By George! I'll attend to that this minute. We'll see what stuff this
yellow-haired boy is made of."

He mounted the stairs without sound. He grasped the handle of the door,
boldly pushed it open, and entered, closing the door and placing his
back against it.

The instant he saw the intruder the vintner snatched a pistol from the
drawer in the table and leveled it at Carmichael.

"Surely your majesty will not shoot an old friend?"


[Illustration: "Surely your Majesty will not shoot an old friend?"]

 Next stop? The stables. Talone and Ani persuade the stable-master to give them some horses to ride on their journey. As luck would have it, many of the horses are already gone with the king and his men, so Ani gets stuck with the bay that Geric had trouble with on the first day. The stable-master doesn't think it's a good idea, but Ani insists. And they're off--with horses, clothes, and the location, the group all head to the king's other estate. As they ride, Talone reassures Ani that she's got the truth on her side, but Ani's worried about Selia's people-speaking gift. They talk over the impending war, and everyone realizes that Bayern will crush Kildenree like a bug if it goes forward. Enna asks Ani to tell them a story about war, so Ani recites one about women going to battle and men crying "vanquished!" Finn feels a little uneasy with the story, but Enna comforts him. Ani tells everyone to be careful--she doesn't want anyone to take risks because of her. Hey, Ani--it's a little late for that, don't you think? The next morning, Ani bathes in the river to get the layer of dirt off her body, and then she gets dressed in the green dress she took from Selia's room. Everyone recognizes that she is a princess when they see her; she's no longer a goose girl telling a story, but real-life, bona fide royalty. And it's time to ride and get her kingdom back.

