An hour slipped by. Some of the party played truc, some scat. In a corner some musicians discoursed on viols and lutes and a clavier. The Archduke grew impatient and sent a page to the lodging of the Archduchess, bidding her attendance. An answer came back that she was indisposed, but that, if the Elector wished to see her particularly, she would endeavour to throw off her migraine and come.
The Archduke sent a still more peremptory message. Maximilian looked still more sombre.
This time he stopped to speak to an officer who had just come in. They stood apart.
"The gates are shut?" was Maximilian's inquiry.
"Yes, your Highness!"
"Has the Archduchess in fact returned?"
"No, your Highness!"
"Have you had any message?"
"Her coach broke down at Obertraubling, three leagues from Ratisbon! She is spending the night at a farmhouse!"
"Alone?" There was a perceptible quiver in his voice.