"To-morrow it will be international news that I'm _not_!" The emphasis

this time threatened to crack the table-leaf. "I'm not going to risk

my liberty with a girl who has no more sense of dignity than she has."

"It is very kind of you," murmured the princess.

"She'd make a fine wife," went on the prince, ignoring the

interruption. "No, a thousand times no! Take her away--life's too

short; take her away! Let her marry the fellow; he's young and may get

over it."

The duke was furious. He looked around for something to strike, and

nothing but the table being convenient, he smashed a leaf and sent a

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vase clattering to the floor. He was stronger than the prince,

otherwise there wouldn't have been a table to thwack.

"That's right; go on! Break all the furniture, if it will do you any

good; but mark me, you'll foot the bill." The prince began to dance

around. "I will not marry the girl. That's as final as I can make it.

The sooner you calm down the better."

How the girl's eyes sparkled! She was free. The odious alliance would

not take place.

"Who is that?"

Everybody turned and looked at Max. His arm was leveled in the

direction of a fine portrait in oil which hung suspended over the

fireplace. Max was very pale.

"What's that to you?" snarled the prince. He was what we Yankees call

"hopping mad." The vase was worth a hundred crowns, and he never could

find a leaf to replace the one just broken.

"I believe I have a right to know who that woman is up there." Max

spoke quietly. As a matter of fact he was too weak to speak otherwise.

"A right to know? What do you mean?" demanded the prince fiercely.

"It is my wife."

With trembling fingers Max produced his locket.

"Will you look at this?" he asked in a voice that was a bit shaky.

The prince stepped forward and jerked the locket from Max's hand. But

the moment he saw the contents his jaw fell and he rocked on his heels

unsteadily and staggered back toward the duke for support.

"What's the matter, Prince?" asked the duke anxiously. After all

Doppelkinn was an old crony, and mayhap he had been harsh with him.

"Where did you get that?" asked the prince hoarsely.

"I have always worn it," answered Max. "The chain that went with it

originally will no longer fit my neck."

"Arnheim! . . . Duke! . . . Come and look at this!"--feebly.

"Good Heaven!" cried the duke.

"It is the princess!" said Arnheim in awed tones.

"Where did you get it?" demanded the prince again.




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