Waldemar's face grew grave. "If I had entertained any doubts of that," he said, "they would have been dispelled by the ball that grazed my hair as I was passing along here a few days ago."
"After that experience, your constant venturing forth alone is an actual challenge," exclaimed Wanda, unable to conceal her alarm.
"I am always armed; no escort can protect me against a secret shot. As matters now stand, if I should manifest fear and surround myself with safeguards, my authority would be at an end. My best course is to continue to face attacks alone."
"And what if that ball had hit?" asked Wanda, in a tremulous voice. "You see how near the danger came."
The young man bent forward toward her seat. "In insisting upon my accompanying you, did you wish to shield me from a similar danger?" he asked.
"Yes," was the scarce audible answer.
Waldemar seemed about to reply, but as though a recollection had suddenly flashed upon his mind, he seized the reins, and said, in a bitter tone,--
"You will have to pay dear for this to your party, Countess Morynski."
She turned quite around, and her eyes met his. "No," she said; "for you have proclaimed open enmity to us. It lay in your power to offer us peace; you declared war."
"I did what I was forced to do. You forget that my father was a German."