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Updated: June 12, 2025
He stood on the sill of the door, a handsome picture. His gray eyes sparkled, his face was full of excitement and there was a color in his cheeks. There was no sign here of the dissipated man of the night before. It was Hillars as I had seen him in the old days. But for his 19th century garb, he might have just stepped down from a frame a gallant by Fortuny, who loved the awakened animal in man.
From what I could see in the pale light, the horse carried a double burden. A sheet of ice seemed to fall on my heart. What had happened? Had Dan and the Prince come to blows? Alas, I could have cried out in anguish at the sight which finally met my gaze. The innkeeper held the reins, and, propped up in front of him, was Hillars, to all appearances dead.
Thus I began the quest of the elusive, which is a little of love, a little of adventure, and a little of all things. Hillars hadn't been down to the office in two days, so the assistant said. "Is he ill?" I asked, as I carried a chair to the window. "Ill?" The young man coughed affectedly. "Do you believe it possible for him to come in this afternoon?" "It is quite possible.
You see, about six months ago I discovered all regarding Hillars and his fall from grace. It was through the Reuter agency. Hillars got badly singed. An elopement of some sort between him and the Princess was nipped in the bud. He was ordered to leave the country and warned never to return, at the peril of his liberty. A description of him is with every post on the frontier.
"There is some tobacco on the table," I said humbly. I felt that I had wronged him in some manner, though unintentionally. "The Princess Hildegarde!" I murmured. "The very person," said Hillars. He lit his pipe and sat on the edge of the bed. He puffed and puffed, and I thought he never would begin. Presently he said: "And you never suspected who she was?"
Hillars always drank, but never to an alarming extent. On his return, however, he was in a bad shape. It was nearly November before I got him sobered up; and then he went under on an average of three times a week. I asked him bluntly what he meant by it, and he frankly replied that if he wanted to drink himself to death, that was his business. When he isn't half-seas over he is gloomy and morose.
I asked a neighbor who she was, but when I went to point her out she was gone. I should like to see more of her." So Gretchen had been in Vienna, and poor Hillars had never known! I took Pembroke to the club that afternoon, and we dallied in the billiard room till time to dress for dinner. Dinner came.
It seems silly and weak for a man who has been buffeted as I have, who is supposed to gather wisdom and philosophy as a snowball gathers snow as it rolls down hill, to try to drown regret and disappointment in liquor. A man never knows how weak he is till he meets the one woman and she will have none of him." And somehow I got closer to Hillars, spiritually.
"You might make the order wholesale," said I stepping over to the side of Hillars. "I told you there would be some sport," whispered Dan. He put his arm across my shoulders. "And who, in the name of Weimer, are you?" bawled the Count. He scrutinized me intently; then a light of recognition broke over his face. "The other one! A nest of them!"
I looked at her as one in a dream. "I! You! thence to France?" Hillars went to the sideboard and emptied half a glass of brandy. Coming back to his chair he remained in a reverie for a short time. Then he resumed his narrative. The Princess looked up into my face and smiled. "Yes; thence to France. Ah, I could go alone. But listen, monsieur. Above all things there must be a scandal.
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