“He has gone to Brunnstadt,” said Madame, “but will return this evening.”
The breakfast was short and merry. Words passed across the table that were as crisp as the toast. Maurice remarked the advent of two liveried servants, stolid Germans by the way, who, as he afterward found, did not understand French.
“So the Colonel has gone to Brunnstadt?” said Maurice; which was a long way of asking why the Colonel had gone to Brunnstadt.
“Yes,” said Madame; “he has gone to consult Madame the duchess to see what shall be done to you, Monsieur.”
“To be done to me?” ignoring the challenge in her eyes.
“Yes. You must not forget that you promised me your sword, and I have taken the liberty of presenting it to her Highness.”
“I remember nothing about promising my sword,” said Maurice, gazing ceiling-ward.
“What! There was a mental reservation?”
“No, Madame. I remember my words only too well. I said that I loved adventure, thoughtless youth that I was, and that I was easy to be found. Which is all true, and part proved, since I am here.”
“Still, the uniform fits you exceedingly well. The hussars hold a high place at court.”