“Has any one come to the Inn in that time?”
Hertz’s spine went cold, and his voice trembled—she was the Archduke’s, and he had dared to ogle her.
“No one, Your Highness,” he answered—“no one but a woman—only a few minutes ago—on horseback—alone.”
“Did you happen to look at her, Captain? If you did, you might describe her.”
“I cannot, Your Highness; her face was covered with a thick, black veil.”
The Archduke smiled. “You’re a good soldier, I see; a pretty face comes first.”
“But her figure, sir—it’s wonderful, black habit and black horse—and she can ride—and her voice—”
“At least, Captain, your inability to describe her isn’t due to lack of observation,” the Archduke remarked dryly. “You have aroused my curiosity; I must see this remarkable woman—and do you remain here. I may have need of you presently; if you hear a whistle, come to me instantly.”
“Very clever, my lord,” Hertz muttered; “but you can’t cozen this bird; you’re here to meet her, and we are not expected. If the Regent knew it—whew!” and dismounting, he nodded to the sergeant.
“This looks about as harmless as a game of ping-pong,” said Armand, as they went into the courtyard; then, suddenly, an amazing idea flashed upon him; and he swung around, and motioned Hertz to him.