In these troublous days she had no taste for landed property, and she was convinced, besides, that Otto had paid dearer than the farm was worth. Lastly, the order for the Prince's release fairly burned her meddling fingers.

All things considered, the next day beheld an elegant and beautiful lady, in a riding-habit and a flapping hat, draw bridle at the gate of the Felsenburg, not perhaps with any clear idea of her purpose, but with her usual experimental views on life. Governor Gordon, summoned to the gate, welcomed the omnipotent Countess with his most gallant bearing, though it was wonderful how old he looked in the morning.

'Ah, Governor,' she said, 'we have surprises for you, sir,' and nodded at him meaningly.

'Eh, madam, leave me my prisoners,' he said; 'and if you will but join the band, begad, I'll be happy for life.'

'You would spoil me, would you not?' she asked.

'I would try, I would try,' returned the Governor, and he offered her his arm.

She took it, picked up her skirt, and drew him close to her. 'I have come to see the Prince,' she said. 'Now, infidel! on business. A message from that stupid Gondremark, who keeps me running like a courier. Do I look like one, Herr Gordon?' And she planted her eyes in him.

'You look like an angel, ma'am,' returned the Governor, with a great air of finished gallantry.

The Countess laughed. 'An angel on horseback!' she said. 'Quick work.'

'You came, you saw, you conquered,' flourished Gordon, in high good humour with his own wit and grace. 'We toasted you, madam, in the carriage, in an excellent good glass of wine; toasted you fathom deep; the finest woman, with, begad, the finest eyes in Grunewald. I never saw the like of them but once, in my own country, when I was a young fool at College: Thomasina Haig her name was. I give you my word of honour, she was as like you as two peas.'

'And so you were merry in the carriage?' asked the Countess, gracefully dissembling a yawn.

'We were; we had a very pleasant conversation; but we took perhaps a glass more than that fine fellow of a Prince has been accustomed to,' said the Governor; 'and I observe this morning that he seems a little off his mettle. We'll get him mellow again ere bedtime. This is his door.'

'Well,' she whispered, 'let me get my breath. No, no; wait. Have the door ready to open.' And the Countess, standing like one inspired, shook out her fine voice in 'Lascia ch'io pianga'; and when she had reached the proper point, and lyrically uttered forth her sighings after liberty, the door, at a sign, was flung wide open, and she swam into the Prince's sight, bright-eyed, and with her colour somewhat freshened by the exercise of singing. It was a great dramatic entrance, and to the somewhat doleful prisoner within the sight was sunshine.

'Ah, madam,' he cried, running to her - 'you here!'

She looked meaningly at Gordon; and as soon as the door was closed she fell on Otto's neck. 'To see you here!' she moaned and clung to him.

But the Prince stood somewhat stiffly in that enviable situation, and the Countess instantly recovered from her outburst.

'Poor child,' she said, 'poor child! Sit down beside me here, and tell me all about it. My heart really bleeds to see you. How does time go?'

'Madam,' replied the Prince, sitting down beside her, his gallantry recovered, 'the time will now go all too quickly till you leave. But I must ask you for the news. I have most bitterly condemned myself for my inertia of last night. You wisely counselled me; it was my duty to resist. You wisely and nobly counselled me; I have since thought of it with wonder. You have a noble heart.'

'Otto,' she said, 'spare me. Was it even right, I wonder? I have duties, too, you poor child; and when I see you they all melt - all my good resolutions fly away.'

'And mine still come too late,' he replied, sighing. 'O, what would I not give to have resisted? What would I not give for freedom?'

'Well, what would you give?' she asked; and the red fan was spread; only her eyes, as if from over battlements, brightly surveyed him.

Robert Louis Stevenson
Classic Literature Library

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