And Antonine disappeared in the direction of the light.
The young man, overcome by grief, fell on the bench, hiding his face in his hands. Presently he heard a voice, coming down the walk in the garden of the Élysée, calling him by name:
"Frantz!"
He started, thinking it was the voice of the prince; he was not mistaken. A second time his name was called.
Fear, the habit of passive obedience, and his respect for the archduke, as well as his gratitude, led Frantz back to the little wall which separated the two gardens; behind this wall he saw the prince standing in the light of the moon. The prince extended his hand with haughty reserve, and assisted him to regain the walk.
"Immediately upon my return, I entered your apartment," said the archduke, severely. "I did not find you. Your open window told me all. Now, follow me."
"Monseigneur," cried Frantz, throwing himself at the feet of the prince, and clasping his hands, "monseigneur, listen to me."
"Major Butler," said the prince, in a loud voice, addressing a person who until then had been hidden by the shade, "accompany Count Frantz to his apartment, and do not leave him a moment. I hold you responsible for him."
CHAPTER XIV.
The day after these events had transpired the archduke, dressed always in his uniform, for he carried military etiquette to its most extreme limit, was in his study about two o'clock in the afternoon. One of his aids, a man about forty years old, of calm and resolute countenance, was standing before the table on the side opposite the prince, who was seated, writing, with a haughtier, severer, and more care-worn manner than usual. As he wrote, without raising his eyes to the officer, he said to him: