“Go and sleep,” said the prince to Maurice; “I will send an orderly for you when the time comes.” And with this he dashed up the driveway to the main entrance of the palace, leaped from his horse and disappeared.
Maurice wheeled and drove leisurely to the Continental, leaving the amazed cuirassiers gaping after him. He experienced that exuberance of spirits which always comes with a delightful day dream. He forgot his weariness, his bruises. To mingle directly in the affairs of kings and princes, to be a factor among factors who surround and uphold thrones, seemed so at variance with his republican learning that he was not sure that all this was not one long dream—Fitzgerald and his consols, the meeting with the princess, the adventures at Madame's chateau, the duel with Beauvais, the last night's flight with the prince across the mountains! Yes; he had fallen asleep somewhere and had been whisked away into a kind of fairyland. Every one was in trouble just now, as they always are in certain chapters of fairy tales, but all would end happily, and then—he would wake.
Meanwhile the prince entered the palace and was proceeding up the grand corridor, when a bared sword stayed his progress.
“Monsieur,” said von Mitter, “you have lost your way. You can not enter here.”
“I?” a haughty, threatening expression on his pale face. “Are you sure?”
Von Mitter fell back against the wall and all but lost hold of his saber. “Your Highness?” he gasped, overcome.
“Even so!” said the prince. “The archbishop! the Marshal! Lead me to them at once!”
Von Mitter was too much the soldier not to master his surprise at once. He saluted, clicked his heels and limped toward the throne room. He stopped at the threshold, saluted again, and, in a voice full of quavers, announced:
“His Highness Prince Frederick of Carnavia.”
He stepped aside, and the prince pushed past him into the throne room. At this dramatic entrance there rose from the archbishop, the Marshal, the princess, the Carnavian ambassador, from all the court dignitaries, a cry of wonder and astonishment.