"I predicted evil when Burgundy took Nancy from Lorraine," cried Yolanda, excitedly. "The hollow conventions made with Lorraine after the capture of that city were but the promises of a man under duress. The only ties that will bind a narrow man are those of immediate self-interest. There can be no lasting treaty between France and Burgundy so long as King Louis covets Flanders and is able to bribe our neighbors. These conventions between Burgundy, Lorraine, Bourbon, and St. Pol will hold only so long as Burgundy does not need them."
"That is surely true, Fräulein," I said.
"Yes," she continued, "and should Burgundy suffer any great misfortune or be crippled for an hour, those small states would be upon his back like a pack of wolves, and he would be ruined. Lorraine, Bourbon, and St. Pol do not see that Burgundy alone stands between them and the greedy maw of France. Should King Louis survive my--my Lord of Burgundy five years, these dukes and counts will lose their feudal rights and become servile vassals of France, not in name, as now they are, but in sorry fact."
I was so astonished at this tempestuous outburst from an unexpected quarter, and was so surprised at discovering an intimate knowledge of great affairs in a simple burgher maid, that I dropped the piece of meat I held in my fingers and stared in wonder across the table at Yolanda. I had known from the first hour of meeting her that the girl's mind was marvellously keen; but that a maid of seventeen or eighteen, in her position, should have so firm a grasp of international affairs and should possess so clear a conception of the troublous situation in western Europe, astounded me.
In eastern Europe, where we were not blinded by neighborly hatred and local jealousies, the truth of Yolanda's statement had long been apparent. We carried our prophecy further and predicted that the headlong passions of Charles the Rash would soon result in his death or overthrow.
My point in dragging in this heavy load of political lore is this: In case of the death of Charles of Burgundy, the future of western Europe would depend on the brains and the bravery of the man who should marry the Princess Mary. I felt that Max was chosen of God for that destiny. Should he succeed in defending Burgundy against France, he would become the most powerful man in Europe. No event save death could keep him from achieving the imperial crown.
If the existing treaty of marriage between Mary and the Dauphin of France were carried out, and if the Dauphin as king should possess one-half the wisdom of his father, Louis, all western Europe would soon be France. If this treaty were to fail and the Princess Mary espouse a man capable of defending her territory, Burgundy would still remain a wall of protection to the smaller states of the Rhine.
A long silence followed Yolanda's outburst, but her words had so astonished me that my supper for the evening was finished. Castleman plied his knife industriously; Yolanda nibbled at a piece of meat between her dainty fingers, and Twonette gazed serenely out of the open window.
Yolanda's words and Castleman's constraint filled me with wonder. There was to me a mystery about this little beauty that had not been touched on by my friend from Peronne. I hoped to gain information on the point by inducing Yolanda to talk. She was willing enough.
"Fräulein," I said, "I quite agree with you. It is a matter of surprise to me that these noblemen you mention do not see the truth as you state it."