“Just in time for what?”
“Ah, true. Her Highness gives a grand ball at the chateau to-night. The court has arrived from Brunnstadt. Some will reside at the chateau, some at General Duckwitz's, others at the Countess Herzberg's.”
“Has the duchess arrived at last, then?” was the cynical inquiry.
“She will arrive this evening,” answered the corporal, grinning. “A pleasant journey to you.”
Maurice proceeded. “And that blockhead of an Englishman has not tumbled yet! The court here? A grand ball? What else can it mean but that Madame is celebrating a victory to come? If the archbishop has those consols, she will wage war; and this is the prelude.” He jogged along. He had accomplished a third of the remaining distance, when he was challenged. The sentry came forward and scrutinized the rider.
“O, it is Monsieur Carewe!” he cried in delighted tones. He touched his cap and fell back into the shadows.
A mile farther, and the great chateau, scintillating with lights, loomed up against the yellow sky. He felt a thrill of excitement. Doubtless there would be some bright passages before the night drew to a close. He would make furious love to the pretty countess; it would be something in the way of relaxation. How would they greet him? What would be Madame's future plans in regard to Fitzgerald? How would she get him out of the way, now that he had served her purpose? He laughed.
“The future promises much,” he said, half aloud. “I am really glad that I came back.”
“Halt!”
Maurice drew up. A sentry stepped out into the road.