“To be sure I do; she is an only daughter of the late Prince Czartorinski, and now a sort of ward under the protection of the Emperor. She inherits all the estates, except one which was left to found an hospital at Warsaw, and is a rich heiress. It is supposed the emperor will bestow her upon one of his generals. She is at the palace, and a maid of honour to the empress.”
“Whew!” whistled McShane; “won’t there be a difficulty.”
“I should think so,” replied the courier, gravely.
“He must run away with her,” said McShane, after a pause.
“How will he get to see her?”
“He will not see her, so as to speak with her, in the palace; that is not the custom here; but he might meet her elsewhere.”
“To be sure, at a party or a ball,” said McShane.
“No, that would not do; ladies and gentlemen keep very apart here in general company. He might say a word or two when dancing, but that is all.”
“But how is he to meet her, when, in this cursed place of yours, if men and women keep at arm’s length?”
“That must depend upon her. Tell me, does she love him?”