"I have lost my bet, sir," he said, in a somewhat sharp tone, "and will send you the amount to your inn to-morrow."
"Oh, it matters not," answered Algernon Grey; "it was a foolish wager of mine, and I can hardly call it fairly won; for I suspect, by a smile I saw on your Prince's lip, that he remembers having seen me in my own land, though I was but a mere boy then."
"I always pay my debts of all kinds, sir," replied the other; and then, turning to the lady, he asked her to tread a measure with him, when the dance began again.
"I cannot, noble sir," she replied coldly; "I have a task assigned me, which I must perform. You heard the commands I received."
"Commands right willingly obeyed," answered Oberntraut; and, turning sharply away, he left them.
"He is in an ill humour," said Algernon Grey, as, passing through two or three rooms nearly deserted, they reached the top of a small staircase, that led down towards the gardens. "He reasonably enough made me a bet, that I would not obtain admission here, without announcing my name or rank. I unreasonably preferred it, and, against probability, have won."
"He is more wounded," answered Alice, "at his judgment having been found in fault, than at the loss of the wager, be the amount what it will. He is a liberal, free-hearted gentleman, whom success, high birth, and flattery have rendered somewhat vain; but yet, from all I hear and all I have ever seen, I should judge that at heart there are few nobler or better men now living."
Algernon Grey mused for a moment; he knew not why, but her words gave him pain; and they passed out, in silence, into the gardens, then newly laid out by the famous Salomon de Caux. Nothing that profuse expense and the taste and science of the day could effect, had been left undone to render those gardens a miracle of art. Mountains had been thrown down; valleys had been filled up; streams had been turned from their course; and terrace above terrace, parterre beyond parterre, fountains, grottos, statues, arcades, presented a scene somewhat stiff and formal, indeed, but of a gorgeous and splendid character; whilst, sweeping round, as if covering them with a green mantle, came the mountains and forests of the Neckarthal. There were lamps in many places, but such artificial light was little needed; for the moon, within a few days of her full, was pouring a flood of splendour over the scene, which showed even minute objects around. So bright and beautiful was it, so white was the reflection from leaves and gravel walks, and the fresh stonework of the garden, that, had not the warm air told the presence of summer, Algernon Grey might have fancied that snow had fallen since he entered the castle gates.
Numerous groups of persons were wandering hither and thither; and the very colours of their clothing could be seen under the beams of the bright moon. Among the very first of the gay parties, which passed the young Englishman and his companion, as they walked along the upper terrace, towards the broad flight of steps that led down into the lower garden, was his gay friend, William Lovet, walking with the lady who had been assigned as his guide through the night. Right merry they both seemed to be; and we may as well follow them for a moment or two, to show the contrast between Lovet and his fellow-traveller.
"Love and constancy," cried Lovet, with a laugh, just as they passed Algernon Grey, "two things, dear lady, perfectly incompatible. The very essence of love is in change; and you know, in your heart, that you feel it. It is but that you wish to bind all your slaves to you by chains of iron, while you yourself roam free."