"The affair at Eagle's Nest is not unknown even in Schwannenwald," he said, with a smile.
I started. The affair to which he alluded had happened during my third year in British Columbia, when a party of three white men (of which I was one) and a lady had been surrounded in a log cabin by hostile Indians. I was lucky enough at some little risk to escort the lady to a place of safety.
Von Bieberstein rang, and ordered his man to bring up a bottle of champagne and glasses.
"I have a health to give you," he said; "you can wait, John," he added to the man. When the glasses were filled, Von Bieberstein rose to his feet.
"To the health of Her Serene Highness the Princess Elsa," said he.
"And confusion to her enemies. May she never lack a plain English gentleman to do her bidding for the sake of his lady and her own bonny face!" I added, ecstatically.
Von Bieberstein looked at me for a moment, then—
"Spoken like the man of Eagle's Nest. Can you use a sword?" he said.
"I studied under Andretti at Milan in '84," I said, "but——"