I did not reply to Baron Heckscher for a few seconds. It was obvious, of course, that matters had taken a new turn, and I sat thinking how to use the situation to Minna's best advantage.

"Now that you are reasonable, we will go back a little way," I said deliberately. "What do you mean by asking me my motive?"

"Presumably you have some strong motive and some object to gain. Though for the purposes of this interview, as you say, I am willing to call you the Prince von Gramberg, or anything else you like, I have proofs that you are nothing of the kind. Apparently you are an adventurer. Certainly you have been Heinrich Fischer, an actor at Frankfort, and that within a year or two. You were there for several years, and have been identified beyond question. What you were before then I neither know nor care. You have played the part of the Prince von Gramberg, and played it with plenty of dash, spirit, skill, and shrewdness. But men don't do these things for no object. You have run an hourly risk of detection as an impostor, and have certainly rendered yourself liable to heavy imprisonment; indeed, proceedings are already in course for your prosecution. Why, then, have you acted in this way?"

"Those are my private affairs," I answered after a pause; "and until you can disprove my assertion I remain the Prince von Gramberg, if you please."

"As you will, your Highness." He gave the title with excellent irony. "I may tell you that when the information reached us it was at the request of the countess's only surviving relative that she was removed from your custody."

"You mean the Baroness Gratz. I had already suspected her treachery; but you will save much trouble by keeping to the plain truth. Your object was not to get the countess out of my custody, but into your own, so that while this plot to place her on the throne had apparently been engineered in her interest it was the Ostenburg heir who should benefit. It was your work to put forward that scoundrel von Nauheim as her husband, so that when she had been ruined by him she would be impossible as a claimant for the throne. We may as well be frank."

He made a movement of anger at this, and then asked sharply:

"If what you say of him be true, how did you know it?"

"We may pass that by," I replied, with a wave of the hand; "sufficient that I did know him. To save her from such a fate has been my motive."

"You have aimed high, young man; but the Countess Minna von Gramberg's hand is not for an ex—for the present Prince von Gramberg." He made the change of phrase with dry significance. "She herself quite understands that."

It was my turn to start at this.

"You mean that what you have said has been told to her?"

"Your tone is enough to show me my information is correct. You will be wise to abandon that idea once for all. Neither her title nor her wealth is for a nameless adventurer."

His words stung me deeply, as no doubt he intended they should.

"If you knew——" I began, but then checked myself in the act of blurting out what I myself might afterward repent, and said instead: "If you knew my real plans, you would see the futility of pursuing this any further."

"That is why I asked what your plans are. What are your terms? Most men have a price. Name yours, and I'll see whether we can pay it."

He spoke with cold deliberation.

"My terms are the safety and immediate liberation of the countess."

"They are impossible, at the present juncture. Impossible."

"Very good; then we resume matters precisely where they were when I entered this room," I replied, and rose as if to leave.

"You have been playing for a big stake, and I have shown you it is out of your reach. This girl is nothing to you—unless she has succeeded in winning your valuable heart. But you are no fool to waste your strength in chasing the unattainable. Give her up. Name your own terms in money and position. Enlist on my side, and whatever you ask you shall have."

"I am not for sale," I answered indignantly.

"Then you will be a fool, that's all. You have said enough to me here, coupled with the fact that you are what I know you to be, to warrant me in clapping you into a jail straightaway, and I will do it, believe me, if you force me."

"If you like to sign the death warrant of the Duke Marx in that way, you can. I have not come here to you without knowing you, and preparing for eventualities. Your part in all this is known to others besides me, and I leave you to judge where you, or those joined with you, would benefit if there were no Ostenburg heir to take the throne. Berlin would have to bring back the madman, or put the Countess Minna on the throne, or some stranger; and, in either event, your power and influence would be gone. But you know all this well enough. Clap me into jail as you say, or have my head cut off if you like it better, but how would it help you? No, baron, you will have to try something else. The cards I hold are too strong for you."

I flung the words at him with a reckless air, and he knew the truth of them. After a moment he replied:

"You mean you will keep to your mad plan of marrying the Countess Minna?"

"I have said nothing of the sort. My object is merely to free her from a position of danger from those against whom alone she is powerless to fight. It has been part of your infernal scheme to ruin her, to take her life, or to shut her up somewhere for the rest of it, because she interferes in some way with your plans."

"And you wished to put her on the throne in spite of us?"

"She has no more wish to become Queen of Bavaria than to become one of your kitchen wenches. You have known this throughout. She has always been against it, and it was only for the purposes of your own double treachery that you would not recognize it openly. Give her the chance and she would renounce all claim to the throne at this very instant. But you would give her no opportunity. You used her to mask your own hidden scheme, and you have always harbored a design against her safety. And now your own precious scheme has failed, as it deserved to. She has been your victim throughout, just as that infamous von Nauheim has been your abominable instrument. Where is that scoundrel now?" I cried.

He paid no heed to the question, but was rapt in thought for some seconds, and, seeing yet another development opening, I resumed my seat.

"Can I believe you?" he asked at length slowly.

"You can please yourself."

"It might be possible," he said thoughtfully, and as if half communing with himself. "You say your terms are that the countess be at once released? What use will she make of her liberty? Or rather, what use will you make of it for her? If she is released, when will the Duke Marx return to Munich? And where would the Countess Minna be?"

I saw his drift in a moment.

"You mean, will I undertake that she is away long enough for this scheme of yours to go through even now?"

"You can put it that way."

"I must see her for myself before I answer."

"Even that might be practicable," he replied cautiously. "I will see."

"Where is she?"

"If this is done, and she is willing, do you pledge yourself to get her away out of the country for the present?"

Something in his accent and tone roused my suspicions, and I watched him very closely as he added:

"And further, that the Duke Marx shall return to Munich as soon as she is at liberty."

"The Countess Minna's fortune must be secured to her," I said, speaking more to gain time to think than with any real care for the money.

"You are cautious for a young man in love," he sneered; "but you need have no fear on that score. You will not lose that."

I saw his object then pretty fully. He perceived that a marriage with an actor and adventurer such as he deemed me would help his plans for the Ostenburgs at least as much as a marriage with von Nauheim. Everything could go forward with his scheme. Minna would be out of the way even as he had planned, and she could still be used as a stalking-horse to cover his great object, and thus the Duke Marx would be called to the throne apparently without having plotted for it.

There was one obstacle that I saw—von Nauheim.

"What of von Nauheim?" I asked. "Where is he?"

The answer was a wave of the hand, as though such a consideration were beneath serious notice.

"Is he with the Countess Minna now?" I asked, my face growing dark.

"He met with some sort of accident last night, it seems," he said, with a shrewd glance at me. "But for that he might have been with her, by the desire of Baroness Gratz. But as it is——" he added, with another hand wave.

"I don't regard him so lightly," said I, in reply to the gesture.

"You have already had to face much more serious obstacles."

"I could not choose the terms then; I can now. But I will take the chance of what I may do. I can almost pledge myself for the countess, unless you have undermined my influence with her. That is your lookout. But if you set her free at once, and she consents, I will pledge myself to let your scheme go on as you desire, and will see that the Duke Marx is back in Munich as soon as the Countess Minna is safe out of the clutches of your agents and across the French frontier. There is no time to lose," I added, rising, for the thought of seeing Minna had filled me with eagerness.

"What guarantee have I that you will do this?"

"None. What can you have—except that the sooner I have shaken myself free from this infernal intrigue the better I shall be pleased."

The sincerity with which I said this appeared to satisfy him; for after a moment he rose to end the interview.

"And where shall I find the Countess Minna?" I asked.

"She had better not return to Munich. She can join you at Gramberg."

"Thank you, I prefer to fetch her myself," I interposed quickly.

"There is a difficulty——" he began thoughtfully.

"Then the sooner it is smoothed away the better," I interrupted.

"I will send you word where to find her. But, first, there are certain matters which must be set straight."

"I don't trust your agents, baron; you had better understand that. What is to be done must be done to-day."

"I am as anxious as you can be for haste. There is more to apprehend from delay than you appear to think. At any moment we may have some interruption from Berlin. But I can say no more now. If you return to the Gramberg house and hold yourself in readiness to start, I will communicate with you at the earliest possible moment. I can do no more. At this instant I myself do not know the exact whereabouts of the countess. She was taken last night to Herr Schemmell's house, close to town here, and early this morning was to have been removed—almost directly after your visit, indeed, of which I was, of course, informed—and was to be taken to his country-seat near Landsberg. But until I know that she has arrived there it would be folly for me to send you out. Those who have charge of her are to use their discretion as events may require."

"I will wait till I hear from you," I said, and as a last word asked, "You say she has been told that I am not her kinsman, the Prince von Gramberg?"

"Certainly. And probably the tale has been garnished with abundant details. The Baroness Gratz is no friend of yours."

"And von Nauheim?"

"If he is well enough he may have gone after them. I cannot say."

"If there is any wrong done to her, I shall set it to your account," I cried passionately, for this news of von Nauheim filled me with rage.

With this I left him, the fear that von Nauheim might even yet be able to deal some treacherous blow haunting me.

On my way from the baron's I called at von Nauheim's house, and there I learned something that added to my disquiet. He had returned home in the small hours of the morning, and after a brief stay in the house had left again, declaring he might be absent for some time. This was to me like oil poured on to a roaring fire.

"Had your master been hurt?" I inquired of the servant.

"Yes, your Highness. I believe he had had a narrow escape in some carriage accident; but he had almost entirely recovered; and happily no serious injury was caused. He was bruised, of course, but seemed much himself again this morning."

This was ill news enough, and I gnashed my teeth in impotent anger, when I reached the house and had to sit kicking my heels in idleness while I waited for news from the baron; and that at the very hour when, for all I knew, von Nauheim might be forcing his abominable attentions on Minna.

Late in the morning, toward noon, something happened that increased my uneasiness. A letter was brought me from Minna. It had been hurriedly written, and was scarcely coherent.

"Cousin Hans,—I am in sore trouble and fear. There is no doubt I am in the hands of the Ostenburg agents—they tricked me at the ball, and I am being taken away from Munich. My aunt Gratz is with me, and it seems that Marie was false and told everything—though I scarcely distrust her. That is one story. Another is so dreadful I dare not think of it. They dare to tell me you are not my cousin, but a spy paid by the King's party to cheat us all and wreck the whole scheme. I don't believe it. I would trust you against the world. I do trust you. But I do so long to see you face to face again and hear from your own lips that all this is false. I believe I am being taken to Landsberg to the country-house of a Herr Schemmell. Aunt Gratz says so, and thinks you could come after us. She will get this letter to you. Try and follow me at once, and save me from I know not what. All this is killing me. Your distracted cousin,

Minna."

What on earth could this jumble mean? The Baroness Gratz the medium of news of this sort. First assuring Minna that I was a rascally spy, and then suggesting that I could follow and rescue them. Of course it was treachery somewhere. Was it to put me off the scent altogether? Were they being taken to some other place? It baffled me, and I could not see a solution.

The fact that von Nauheim had recovered, and, as I knew, had followed them, led me to connect him with the business in some way, but how?

The thought was so maddening that I was raging and fuming at the delay in hearing from the Baron Heckscher when, to my further surprise, Praga was announced.

He had come, he told me, to consult about the disposal of our hostage, the duke.

I turned for a moment with relief from the bewildering puzzle of Minna's letter to ask him his news of the duke.