Ah, Karl, it is now impossible even to hope for this marriage,
and I tell you I am glad of it. We will see the world, then we will
return to Styria; and I shall thank you all my life for having made a
man of me."
CHAPTER VI
DUKE CHARLES THE RASH
Our caravan travelled with the mournfulness of a funeral procession.
Early in the evening Max spoke to Yolanda:--
"I hear your uncle desires Sir Karl and me to leave you at Metz."
"Yes," she answered dolefully, hanging her head, "we part at Metz. I
shall see you there before I leave, and then--and then--ah, Sir Max, I
was wrong and you were right; there is no hope."
"What of the lady who gave me the ring?" asked Max, in a feeble effort
to banter her.
"She would have made you very happy, Sir Max. Her estates would have
compensated for all losses elsewhere."
"You know, that is not true, Yolanda," said Max, earnestly.
"I am not sure, Sir Max," responded the girl, "and do not wish to be
sure. I will see you at Metz, and there we may part. It is our fate. We
must not be doleful, Sir Max, we must be--we must be--happy and brave."
Her poor little effort to be happy and brave was piteous.
Castleman soon fell back with Yolanda, and Max rode forward beside me.
At midnight we offsaddled by a stream in a forest and allowed our horses
and mules to rest until sunrise. Then we took up our journey again, and
by forced marches reached Metz one morning an hour before dawn. We
waited in a drizzling rain till the gates opened, and, after a long
parley with the warder, entered the city.
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