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There can be but one Yolanda in the world," said Max. "Her Highness, perhaps, is of Yolanda's complexion and stature, so Yolanda has told me, and your imagination has furnished the rest." "Perhaps that is true," said I, fearing that I had already spoken too freely. So my great riddle was at last solved! The Fates had answered when I "gave it up."
From outside the Somme Gate we saw the duke enter Cambrai, but after we had passed under the arch we could not see him for a time because of intervening houses. The huge, grim pile of stone known as Peronne Castle loomed ominously on the opposite side of the small town. Yolanda veiled herself before passing under the gate and hastened, though without conspicuous speed, toward the castle.
I had lived through that one moment, and even God could not rob me of it. Yolanda moved away from me and took up the parchment. "Don't touch it till the ink dries," I cried sharply. She dropped it as if it were hot, and the duchess came to me, and graciously offered her hand: "I thank you with my whole heart, not only for what you have done, but for the love you bear the princess.
"We had a poor dinner, but a kind host, therefore a fine feast. The duke has asked us to go to Switzerland with him. Judging by the enormous sum he offers for our poor services, he must believe that he will need no other help to conquer the Swiss." "Yes yes, that is interesting," said Yolanda, hastily, "but the princess tell me of her." "She is a very beautiful princess," answered Max.
Max, eager to exhibit his hawk to Yolanda, proposed that we ride directly to Castleman's house. While we were crossing the Cologne bridge we saw the duke's party enter the castle by the Postern, and as we turned a corner toward Castleman's the ladies looked in our direction and the gentlemen lifted their caps. "Yolanda will be delighted when she sees my hawk," said Max.
"I may not think of myself or my own desires, Fräulein," he answered. "Like the lady of Burgundy, I was shackled at my birth." "The lady of Burgundy is ever in your mind," Yolanda retorted sullenly. "You would give this promise quickly enough were she asking it she with her vast estate." There was an angry gleam in the girl's eyes, and a dark cloud of unmistakable jealousy on her face.
I have often wondered why Max did not suspect that Yolanda was the Princess Mary; but when I considered that he had not my reasons to lead him to that conclusion, I easily understood his blindness, for even I was unconvinced.
"It is strange," said I to Castleman, when Yolanda and Twonette had left us, "that Fräulein Yolanda, who seems to be all laughter and thoughtlessness, should be so well informed upon the affairs of princes and princesses, and should take this public matter so much to heart." "Yes, she is a strange, unfortunate girl," answered Castleman, "and truly loves her native land.
She began to weep afresh, and the duchess tried to soothe her. "I believe I will pray to the Virgin. She may help us," said the girl, in a voice that was plaintively childlike. "It is a pious thought, Mary," answered the duchess. Yolanda slipped from the divan to the floor, and, kneeling, buried her face in her mother's lap. She prayed aloud: "Blessed Virgin, Thou seest my dire need. Help me.
She gave me her hand, and I would have knelt had she not prevented me by a surprised arching of her eyebrows. My attempt to salute her on my knee was involuntary, but when I saw the warning expression in her eyes, I quickly recovered myself. I bowed and she withdrew her hand. "Let us go to the garden," she suggested. The others left the room, but Yolanda held back and detained me by a gesture.
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