There was the clatter of many hoofs on the main road; they were only a few yards from it. A brilliant cavalcade swept by; a young man in a gaudy field-marshal’s uniform, followed by a dozen officers in blue and white, with glittering helmets and cuirasses; after them several companies of the Household Guards.
“My cousin,” she murmured.
From the direction of The Castle came the booming of cannon and then the strains of a military band. Frederick and Erica stood, neither looking at the other. He began to walk towards the main road and she reluctantly followed him.
“Good-bye,” he said, holding out his hand.
“Good-bye,” she said. “That is—until to-morrow. You will come here at four—”
There was the sound of a horse at a gallop and soon round the bend of the road swept the young man in the field-marshal’s uniform. He looked a giant, in his tall helmet surmounted by three huge white plumes. He reined his horse near Grafton and Erica, and flung himself from the saddle. Grafton saw that he was not tall, but short; not broad, but narrow—that his imposing appearance had been due wholly to his uniform. Also it was apparent that he was in a fury. Leaving the horse, he stalked towards them, his sword clanking against his spurs. Erica was pale and nervous. If Grafton had been looking at her he would have seen that she watched her cousin with an expression of aversion.
Aloyse stepped on a loose stone and it slipped. His sword swung round and caught between his short legs. He tripped, toppled, plunged forward and, as his helmet flew off, his face ploughed into the dust. He was lying prostrate at Erica’s feet.
Grafton sprang to him and lifted him up and set him on his legs. “I hope you’re not hurt?” he said, with perfect self-control.
Aloyse’s hair, mustache, eyes, and mouth were full of dust, his uniform was coated with it. “Go to the devil!” he exclaimed, turning his back on Grafton and wiping his face with a handkerchief he drew from his sleeve. “Who is this person?” he demanded of Erica, in German. “And what are you doing here? I saw you hiding in the woods as I came by.” He spoke to her as if she were his property, and anger flamed in her cheeks and sparkled in her eyes.
“Try to seem a gentleman,” she whispered to him, in German. Then she turned to Grafton. “Mr. Grafton,” she said, in English, “my cousin, the Inheriting Grand Duke.”