"A story," I answered. "Some day I shall tell you all about it. Have

you noticed how badly I have gone about lately?"

"Have I!" he echoed. "If I haven't had a time of it, I should like to

know!"

"Well, it is all over," said I, placing a hand on his shoulder and

smiling into his questioning eyes. "Now if you will excuse me, cousin

mine, I'll make a call on her Serene Highness the Princess Hildegarde."

Just then the door opened and Pembroke's valet came in. He handed a

card to me, and I read upon it, "Count von Walden." I cast it into

Pembroke's lap.

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"That's the man. He is the inseparable of the Prince of Wortumborg."

Then to the valet, "Show him up."

"What's it all about?" asked Pembroke.

"Honestly, I should like to run away," I said musingly. The snow on

the housetops across the way sparkled in the early moonshine. "It's

about a woman. If I live--ah!" I went to the door and swung it open.

The Count gravely passed over the threshold.

"Good evening," he said, with a look of inquiry at Pembroke.

"This gentleman," said I, as I introduced him, "will second me in the

affair to-morrow morning. I suppose you have come to make the final

arrangements?"

"Pardon me," began Pembroke, "but I do not understand--"

"Oh, I forgot. You are," I responded, "to be my second in a duel

to-morrow morning. Should anything happen to me, it were well to have

a friend near by, better still a relative. Well, Count?"

"The Prince desires me to inform you that he has selected pistols at

your request, and despite the fact that he has only the use of his left

hand, he permits you to use either of yours. There will be one shot

each, the firing to be drawn for on the grounds. The time is six, the

place one mile out on the north road, in the rear of the Strasburg inn.

I trust this is entirely satisfactory to you?"

"It is," I answered.

"Then allow me to bid you good night." He bowed and backed toward the

door. He remained a moment with his hand on the knob, gazing into my

eyes. I read in his a mixture of amusement and curiosity. "Good

night," and he was gone.

Pembroke stared at me in bewilderment. "What the devil--"