The best opportunity to rob, you know, comes in the midst of a
melee. Take her, Sir Max. I wish you success."
"Do you really wish me success, Fraeulein?" asked Max, looking straight
ahead. He was not at all flattered by her good wishes concerning the
lady of the ring.
"Indeed I do," responded the girl, joyously; "I will pray to the Virgin
and ask her to help you to win this fair lady who gave you the ring."
"I thank you for your good wishes," returned Max, "though I could easily
be satisfied with less enthusiasm on the subject."
"Indeed? Why, may I ask?"
"Because, Fraeulein--because I had hoped--" Max ceased speaking, and,
leaning forward, smoothed his horse's mane.
Yolanda waited for a moment and then, turning her face toward Max,
asked:--
"You had hoped for what, Sir Max?"
"I had hoped for nothing, Fraeulein," he answered. "I am satisfied as
matters now stand between us. Your words at supper last evening rang in
my ears all night, 'Chained to a throne; chained to a throne.' I knew
you referred to my unhappy lot when you spoke, though how you guessed
the truth concerning my station I do not know."
A surprised little smile spread over her face, but he did not see it. He
was still smoothing his horse's mane.
"You cannot know the terrible truth of your words," continued Max. "I
will tell you a part of my secret, Fraeulein. All my life I have been cut
off--chained to a throne--from the fellowship of men and the love of
friends.
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