Praga was now close to us, riding slowly and peering anxiously on each side of him for any traces of me. Obviously I had better let him know that I was at hand.
Minna and I were standing close under the shadow of a tree whose low branches concealed us effectually.
"Stop here while I go to speak to him," I said in a low tone.
"No, no, don't leave me," she urged, holding my arm in a nervous clutch.
"Have no fear. It is not you who need to fear now, but that villain von Nauheim, if it is indeed he coming up the hill."
"Don't go out of sight, then, cousin. I can't help being afraid—except with you close to me."
I whispered a word of reassurance, and stepped out from the shadow of the tree into the moonlight and went toward Praga.
"Who is there?" he called, stopping his horse.
"It is I, Praga—the Prince."
"Well met, indeed. Is that your horse tied to a tree back there a bit?"