"I have doc.u.mentary proof of it," the man said quietly. "I would beg of your Highness to make no sign whatever that the existence of the plot is known to you, but at the same time exercise the greatest caution, both for your own sake and that of the little Princess."

"Surely they do not mean to kill me, Steinbach?" she exclaimed in alarm.

"No--worse. They intend to banish your Highness from Court in disgrace, as a woman unworthy to reign over us as Queen. They fear you because you have discovered their own intrigues, corruptions, and scandals, and they intend that, at all costs, you shall never ascend the throne."

"But my husband! He should surely know this!"

"Princess," exclaimed the clean-shaven young man, speaking very slowly and seriously, "I regret that it is I who am compelled to reveal this to you, but the Crown Prince already believes ill of you. He suspects; and therefore whatever lies they, now invent concerning you he accepts as truth. Princess," he added in a low, hard voice, "you are in deadly peril. There, the truth is out, for I cannot keep it from you longer.

I am poor, unknown, without influence. All I can do is to give you this warning in secret, because I hope that I may call myself your friend."

The unhappy daughter of the Imperial house was silent. The revelation was startling and amazing. She had never realised that a plot was afoot against her in her husband's kingdom. Words entirely failed her. She and her little daughter Ignatia were marked down as victims. She now for the first time realised her peril, yet she was powerless to stem the tide of misfortune that, sooner or later, must overwhelm her and crush her. She stood there a defenceless woman.

CHAPTER THREE.

THE REVELATIONS OF A COMMONER.

Princess and commoner walked in silence, side by side. The rough night wind blew the dust in their faces, but they bent to it heedlessly, both too full of their own thoughts for words; the man half confused in the presence of the brilliant woman who ere long would be his sovereign; the woman stupefied at the dastardly intrigue that had not only estranged her husband from her, but had for its object the expulsion from the kingdom of herself and her child.

Open-hearted as she was, liberal-minded, pleasant, easy-going, and a delightful companion, she had never sufficiently realised that at that stiff, narrow-minded Court there were men and women who hated her. All of us are so very loth to believe that we have enemies, and more especially those who believe in the honesty and integrity of mankind.

She reflected upon her interview with the Emperor. She remembered his Majesty's hard words. Had those conspiring against her obtained his ear?

Even De Trauttenberg, the tall, patient, middle-aged woman in whom she had reposed such confidence, was their spy! Steinbach's story staggered belief. And yet--and yet was not the Emperor's anger plain proof that he knew something--that a foul plot was really in progress?

Along those dark winding paths they strolled slowly, meeting no one, for the place was utterly deserted. It was an exciting escapade, and dangerous withal.

The man at last broke the silence, saying,--

"I need not impress upon your Imperial Highness the necessity for discretion in this matter. To betray your knowledge of the affair would be to betray me."

"Trust me," was her answer. "I know how to keep a secret, and I am not likely to forget this important service you have rendered me."

"My only regret is that I was unable to approach you months ago, when I first made the discovery. Your Highness would have then been able to avoid the pitfalls constantly set for you," the man said meaningly.

The Princess Claire bit her lip. She knew to what he referred. She had been foolish, ah yes; very foolish. And he dare not be more explicit.

"Yes," she sighed. "I know--I know to what you refer. But surely we need not discuss it. Even though I am Crown Princess, I am a woman, after all."

"I beg your Highness's pardon," he exclaimed quickly, fearing that she was annoyed.

"There is nothing to pardon," was her reply. "You are my friend, and speak to me in my own interests. For that I thank you. Only--only--"

she added, "all that you've just told me is such a startling revelation.

My eyes are opened now. I see the dastardly ingenuity of it all. I know why my husband--"

But she checked herself instantly. No. However ill-treated she had been she would preserve her secret. She would not complain to a commoner at risk of her domestic infelicity going forth to her people.

It was true that within a year of marriage he had thrown her down in her room and kicked her in one of his paroxysms of temper. He had struck her blows innumerable; but she had borne all in patience, and De Trauttenberg had discovered dark marks upon her white shoulders which she had attributed to a fall upon the ice. She saw now the reason of his estrangement; how his sycophants had poisoned his mind against her because they feared her.

"Steinbach," she said at last, "tell me the truth. What do the people think of me? You are a commoner and live among them. I, imprisoned at Court, unfortunately, know nothing. The opinions of the people never reach us."

"The people, your Highness, love you. They call you `their Claire.'

You surely know how, when you drive out, they raise their hats and shout in acclamation."

"Yes," she said in a low, mechanical voice, "but is it real enthusiasm?

Would they really love me if I were Queen?"

"Your Highness is at this moment the most popular woman in the whole kingdom of Marburg. If it were known that this plot was in progress there would in all probability be a revolution. Stuhlmann and his friends are hated everywhere, and their overthrow would cause universal satisfaction."

"And the people do not really think ill of me?"

"Think ill of you, Princess?" he echoed. "Why, they literally worship you and the little Princess Ignatia."

She was silent again, walking very slowly, and reflecting deeply. It was so seldom she had opportunity of speaking with one of the people unless he were a deputy or a diplomatist, who then put on all his Court manners, was unnatural, and feared to speak. From the man beside her, however, she saw she might learn the truth of a matter which was ever uppermost in her mind. And yet she hesitated to approach what was, after all, a very delicate subject.

Suddenly, with her mind made up, she halted, and turning to him, said,--

"Steinbach, I want you to answer me truthfully. Do not evade the question for fear of annoying me. Speak openly, as the friend you are to me. I wish to know one thing," and she lowered her voice until it almost faltered. "Have you heard a--well, a scandal concerning myself?"

He made no answer.

She repeated her question; her veiled face turned to his.

"Your Highness only a few moments ago expressed a desire not to discuss the matter," he replied in a low, distinct voice.

"But I want to know," she urged. "I must know. Tell me the truth. If you are my friend you will at least be frank with me when I command."

"If you command, Princess, then I must obey, even with reluctance," was his response. "Yes. I have heard some gossip. It is spoken openly in Court by the _dames du palais_, and is now being whispered among the people."

She held her breath. Fortunately, it was dark, for she knew that her countenance had gone crimson.

"Well?" she asked. "And what do they say of me?"

"They, unfortunately, couple your Highness's name with that of Count Leitolf, the chief of the private cabinet of his Majesty," was his low answer.

"Yes," she said in a toneless voice. "And what more?"

"They say that Major Scheel, attache at the Emba.s.sy in Paris, recognised you driving with the Count in the Avenue de l'Opera, when you were supposed to be at Aix-les-Bains with the little Princess Ignatia."

"Yes. Go on."

"They say, too, that he follows you everywhere--and that your maid Henriette helps you to leave the palace in secret to meet him."

She heard his words, and her white lips trembled.

"They also declare," he went on in a low voice, "that your love of the country is only because you are able to meet him without any one knowing, that your journey here to Vienna is on account of him--that he has followed you here."

She nodded, without uttering a word.

"The Count has, no doubt, followed your Highness, indiscreetly if I may say so, for I recognised him last night dining alone at Breying's."