A dozen pairs of eyes were turned upward; the commotion ended
suddenly. In the window above stood two graceful, white-robed
figures. The sun, still far below the ridge of mountains, had not yet
robbed the morning of the gray, dewy shadows that belong to five
o'clock.
"What are you doing to that poor old man?" cried Yetive, and it was the
first time any of them had seen anger in the princess's face. They slunk
back in dismay. "Let him alone! You, Gartz, see that he has food and
drink, and without delay. Report to me later on, sir, and explain, if
you can, why you have conducted yourselves in so unbecoming a manner."
Then the window was closed and the princess found herself in the warm
arms of her friend.
"I couldn't understand a word you said, Yetive? but I knew you were
giving it to them hot and heavy. Did you see how nicely old Franz bowed
to you? Goodness, his head almost touched the ground."
"He was bowing to you, Beverly. You forgot that you are the princess to
him."
"Isn't that funny? I had quite forgotten it--the poor old goose."
Later, when the coaches and escort were drawn up in front of the
Rallowitz palace ready for the start, the princess called the chief
postillion, Gartz, to the step of her coach.
"What was the meaning of the disturbance I witnessed this morning?" she
demanded.
Gartz hung his head. "We thought the man was crazy, your highness.
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