If Minna was right in her conjecture that the horseman coming up on our right was von Nauheim, it was easy to foresee that the meeting between him and Praga would have an ugly ending. I knew well enough that the Corsican's fiery hatred of the count would urge him to take his revenge on the spot, and for the moment I was a little at a loss how to act.

Praga was now close to us, riding slowly and peering anxiously on each side of him for any traces of me. Obviously I had better let him know that I was at hand.

Minna and I were standing close under the shadow of a tree whose low branches concealed us effectually.

"Stop here while I go to speak to him," I said in a low tone.

"No, no, don't leave me," she urged, holding my arm in a nervous clutch.

"Have no fear. It is not you who need to fear now, but that villain von Nauheim, if it is indeed he coming up the hill."

"Don't go out of sight, then, cousin. I can't help being afraid—except with you close to me."

I whispered a word of reassurance, and stepped out from the shadow of the tree into the moonlight and went toward Praga.

"Who is there?" he called, stopping his horse.

"It is I, Praga—the Prince."

"Well met, indeed. Is that your horse tied to a tree back there a bit?"

"Yes, he fell and threw me; but I am all right. Quick, bring your horse on to the grass here, and under this tree," and I led him into the shadow of the tall hedge.

"Have you any traces of them?" he asked impatiently.

"Yes, I have the best news. I have found the Countess Minna. She has escaped from that villain, and I believe that the horseman you can hear coming up the hill now is the man himself coming in pursuit of her."

"Ah!" He drew in his breath. "We are in luck indeed. There is a good light," and he glanced up at the moon, and I heard him swear into his mustache, and mutter, "At last!" Then, after listening a moment, he said: "He is breathing his horse up the hill. He little guesses who's here to give him a welcome. I'll go forward and meet him. I hope to God he has a sword with him. Will you stay here? You can act as second for us both, and see that all is fair, though it would serve the dog right if I were to shoot him down without a chance."

He walked his horse slowly forward on the grass, making no noise, and keeping out of sight in the shadow of the hedge.

I went back to Minna.

The on-coming horseman was now in full sight of us on the slope of the white hill, the moonlight showing up the figures of both horse and rider, as he turned to look behind him, and sat listening intently. The silence was so intense that we seemed to feel it, and even the creak of the saddle leather, as he turned, reached our ears.

Then we saw him face round quickly and dash his heels into his horse's ribs as if to gallop forward; but, at the same instant, he caught sight of Praga, and he checked his horse again almost as he was in the very act of urging it forward. The next moment Praga was at his side.

For a second neither spoke. Then through the still night air we heard the Corsican laugh.

"You're riding late, my lord, the most noble Count von Nauheim," he said in a mocking tone.

No answer was made, and Praga put in words the thought that flashed upon me.

"Don't think of trying to escape. You won't do it this time." He spoke sternly, adding, in the previous mocking tone, "And what brings you out for horse exercise at this uncanny hour, most noble?"

The reply was sudden and unexpected by me, but not by the Corsican.

Von Nauheim drew a revolver, and fired point-blank at Praga, and then dashed his heels into his horse's sides, and tried to make off. But the other was fully prepared for the manoeuvre, and when the noise of the shot, which frightened Minna excessively, and woke the echoes of the woods round us, had died away, I saw that the Corsican had grasped the bridle of von Nauheim's horse in a grip of steel, till the beast swerved round and nearly unhorsed its rider, while with his other hand Praga had struck the revolver from his opponent's grasp.

Then he laughed again.

"A hand is rarely steady when a man's shivering with fright," he said in his bantering tone; but he changed it swiftly, and, in a voice deep with passion, he cried, "Get off your horse, you coward, or I'll drag you from your saddle! Do you hear?"

Von Nauheim made no reply, and no effort to dismount.

"Do you hear me? Dismount!" thundered the Corsican, his deep, rolling voice vibrating with wrath; and when von Nauheim still hesitated, Praga bent forward, and, with a strength that surprised me, tore him from his horse, and forced him to the ground.

Von Nauheim seemed helpless with terror.

"What is he going to do?" asked Minna, shivering.

"We must wait," I answered.

Praga dismounted then, and, tying the reins of the two horses together, led them to a tree, and fastened them. Every action was done with cool, methodical purpose, which I knew was carefully calculated to increase the other's fear; and though the Corsican pretended not to watch the latter's actions, I could see that the whole time the dark, dangerous eyes were taking the keenest note of every gesture and movement.

When he had tethered the horses, he crossed the road back to where von Nauheim stood in an attitude of sullen dejection. He was like one fascinated and paralyzed with fear.

All at once I saw Praga start and glance in my direction, as a thought seemed to occur to him.

"Come," he said in a voice of rough command, short, sharp, and stern. "This way," motioning along the road toward the spot where Minna and I stood.

I wondered what he meant to do.

Von Nauheim did not move, and Praga, seizing him by the arm, half led, half dragged him forward.

"You can do an act of justice for once in your life."

He clipped the words, and followed them with a short, sneering laugh, a curious mixture of humor and anger.

"We are not alone here, and I have a fancy that you shall tell what you know about the death of young Gustav von Gramberg."

At this von Nauheim looked up, and stared rather wildly about him. I saw Praga's motive then, and was glad.

"Halt! most noble and honorable of counts," he cried when they stood about twenty paces from us. Then, in a rough, stern tone, he added, "Now tell the truth—the part you played in it."

At that von Nauheim made a sudden dash and struggle to get free from his antagonist's grip; but he might as well have tried to get away from his master, the devil, as from the iron hand that held and then shook him till his teeth chattered.

I guessed that he had caught sight of us.

"Now the truth!" cried Praga in a truly terrifying tone. "Out with it. You know me by this time."

The other glanced about him in abject fright, and then said, in a whisper hoarse and husky with agitation:

"Are you there, Minna?"

"Silence!" thundered Praga, shaking him again. "Speak what I have told you—no more, no less."

For a time von Nauheim tried vainly to find words, and the sight of his fear was so appalling and repulsive that Minna clung closer to me, and hid her face against my arm.

Another threat and command came from Praga, and then, in a voice that shook and quavered, and broke again and again, he began the shameful story of his own abominable part in the intrigue which had led to the duel between Minna's brother and the Corsican; and the latter would not let him halt until the whole villanous tale was complete.

It took a long time in the telling, and I could feel the girl shrink and wince as the truth came out in the dreary, monotonous voice of the terror-possessed wretch.

"Take me away, cousin Hans, I cannot bear this," she cried to me piteously. "My poor, poor brother!"

"Yes, we will go," I said. "But it was right for you to hear the tale, and to know who in reality played the villain's part in it."

I led her out in the moonlight then, and told Praga that we should go.

"As you will," he answered; "I will follow. Take my horse, and I'll do the best I can with yours."

In turning to speak to me he loosened his hold somewhat of von Nauheim for an instant, and the latter, with what sounded like a great sob of fear, broke away, and threw himself on the ground at Minna's feet.

"For God's sake, don't go away, Minna. Don't leave me with this man. He will murder me. Have mercy on me. Plead with him for me. You can save me. Minna, do you hear? For God's sake, have mercy," and he caught hold of her dress and clung to her—the type of broken, abject, fright-becrazed cowardice.

"Don't touch me!" she cried. "Your hands are red with my brother's blood."

"Get up, you crawling, unclean brute, and cease your whining," said Praga, dragging him to his feet.

"Don't let him be killed, cousin Hans," whispered Minna. "He is not fit to die. But, oh, take me away. This scene is killing me," she cried in distress.

At that von Nauheim broke out with more pleas and entreaties, his voice shaking as he trembled in his fear. I did not know what to do. I had promised Praga his revenge; and in all truth I could see no reason for interfering to save the man's life. He had played the scoundrel all through, and if ever a man deserved death he did.

But at the same time it was Minna who asked for mercy, and I loved her for it, and my heart was moved by her appeal. I stood thus in hesitation, when an interruption came which, for the instant, I welcomed gladly.

We were to have more company on that lonely spot; and we all four heard at the same moment the sound of horses coming quickly up the hill. A minute later we caught sight of a couple of figures in the moonlight.

The effect on von Nauheim was electrical.

He sprang up and gave a loud shout for help.

"Help, help! Murder! Help!"

The cry rang over the country-side and awakened a thousand echoes in the still night air.

An answering shout came from the approaching men, and they dashed headlong toward us, reigning up their horses almost on to their haunches.

"What is this?" cried a voice which I seemed to recognize. "Who called for help?"

"It is Major Gessler, Hans," whispered Minna. "Take care."

While I was assuring her that all was well, and that I had an order to him for her release, Praga was answering him.

"You come in excellent time, gentlemen, whoever you are. This is the thing that screeched for help," pointing to von Nauheim.

"Ah, the Count von Nauheim," said the major in a tone of satisfaction.

"There is the lady you seek, Major Gessler," said the poltroon, pointing a trembling finger to Minna. "And I call you to witness that I have been stopped on the highway by these two men and my life threatened. I claim your protection."

The major looked from one to the other of us in indecision, and then the Corsican laughed a deep, rolling laugh of contemptuous anger.

"By the nails that pierced the feet, you are a paltry thing!" he cried. "Nothing's too vile and base for you to save your dirty little life; is it? A minute since you were grovelling to the Countess Minna, hanging to her skirts, and begging her to save you; and now you think to try and curry favor with Major Gessler by this lick-spittling attempt to betray her. But you don't know him, lily-liver; he's the last man in the world to step in to prevent an affair of this kind. This is an affair of honor, major, if we can use that term with a man like this; and of course you will not think of interfering, except to see that everything is done duly and in good order."

There was a significance in his tone which did not escape me.

"I must first learn the reason of your all being here, if you please."

"I was returning to——" began von Nauheim, when Praga cut him short.

"Silence!" he thundered; "you will only lie." Then to the major he said, "I know no reason why I should explain my conduct to you."

"I can best explain this, I think," I said. "The Count von Nauheim had induced or compelled the Countess Minna here to leave your custody, and after some time she escaped from him. I was following, and by the happiest of coincidences we met. She will now remain in my care. Signor Praga was riding after me, and the Count von Nauheim came up soon afterward in search of the countess. Between Signor Praga and the count there is an old quarrel, and it was in course of arrangement when you arrived."

"Then you will return with me, countess?" said the officer.

"On the contrary, as I have already said, my cousin will remain in my charge," and I handed him the letter from Baron Heckscher.

He read it by the light of the moon, and we waited in silence till he had finished.

"You are to hand me an authority to your agents," he said as he folded up the letter.

"I have also to demand an explanation for the treatment I received on my arrival, as I understood, by your instructions," I answered sharply.

"It can all best be done at the house itself. My work is finished here, and I must set about this other matter of the Duke Marx without delay," he said. "Count von Nauheim has also an explanation to give me. We had better proceed to the house, Prince."

At this Praga showed signs of restiveness, while von Nauheim agreed eagerly.

"I have a word to say about that," exclaimed the Corsican, intervening. "I have brought this fox to earth, and have no mind to see him slip through my fingers. Prince, you won't forget our compact?"

"I shall be responsible for the count's custody," put in Major Gessler.

"Maybe, but you have an unfortunate trick of letting your prisoners slip the leash," cried Praga bluntly. "I shouldn't trust myself in that house again, Prince, if I were you. There may be more treachery there."

"Those are ugly words, sir," exclaimed the major hotly.

"They describe an ugly fact, major," returned Praga recklessly, with a shrug of the shoulders. "I am not concerned to pick my words to tickle your ears. If you don't like them"—and he threw up his hands—"I can't help it."

"I need not give you my assurance, I trust, Prince von Gramberg," said the officer, turning to me, "that so long as I am at that house your personal safety and that of the Countess Minna will be absolutely secure."

"If I doubt it, you have only the acts of your own men to blame," I answered curtly.

"That can be explained. When the Countess Minna was taken away by this"—he was going to say gentleman, but substituted—"by this count, I feared that some further plot might be afloat, and I left instructions that you should be detained until my return from my search for her. If my men exceeded their instructions in any way—I had only time to give them very hurriedly—I beg to tender you my sincerest apologies. But at least the countess here will tell you that while she was in my care complete regard was paid alike to her comfort and safety."

"Certainly I would trust Major Gessler's word," said Minna.

"Will you return to the house?" I asked.

"Yes, if we have his word that we are to be at liberty to leave it. But I would rather go to Gramberg."

"I pledge you my word on that," said the major.

I reflected that we had better not go to Gramberg until I had had an opportunity of explaining the whole position to Minna, and in fact I had another plan in my thoughts.

But while this conversation had been taking place, and our attention had been engrossed, von Nauheim had stolen unobserved to the place where Praga had tethered the horses, and, having cut the reins which tied the two together, he leapt on the back of his own and made off down the road at a hard gallop.

With a furious oath Praga ran to his horse, caught it cleverly, jumped into the saddle, and dashed after the fugitive in mad pursuit. The major told the man who was with him to follow, and we stood and watched the wild race as the three streamed down the hill from us at unequal distances, along a flat stretch of level road at the bottom, and then up a long incline beyond.

Praga was the better horseman or had the better mount, for we saw him gaining fast on the dark figure in front, and then as they neared the top of the incline we heard the report of a pistol shot, followed at a short interval by another.

A moment later the two leading figures passed out of sight, and we were left to conjecture what had happened.

"Had you better not push on to the house?" asked the major. "I will ride back and see the result. It has an ugly look. I shall probably overtake you before long," and with that he wheeled his horse round and galloped off, leaving Minna and myself alone again.