Part 5 (1/2)

The brown forefinger found a pin's point prominence of gold, and pressing, the s.h.i.+eld flew up to reveal a miniature of Emperor Maximilian.

”You are surprised?” said Sylvia.

”I am surprised, because I understood that you thought poorly of our Kaiser.”

”_Poorly_. What gave you that impression?”

”Why, you scorned his opinion of women.”

”Who am I to scorn an emperor's opinion, even on a matter he would consider so unimportant? I confess we English girls are interested in your Maximilian, if only because we would be charitably minded and teach him better. But as for the ring they sell such things in Wandeck and many of the towns I have been visiting in Rhaetia. Did you not know that?”

”No, lady, I did not know it.”

Nor, as a plain matter of fact, did Sylvia. She had first acted on impulse, and then spoken at random. The ring had been made to order from a design of her own, while she herself had painted the tiny miniature on ivory. But she had been urged by a sudden desire to see him lift the jewelled s.h.i.+eld; and the time was not yet ripe for confessions. ”Keep the trinket for your Kaiser's sake,” she said.

”May I not keep it for yours as well?”

”Yes--if you bring me the milk.”

The chamois-hunter caught up a gaudy jug, and, without further words, strode out. When he had gone, the Princess rose and lifting the knife he had used to slice the bread and ham, she kissed the handle on the place where his brown fingers had grasped ”You are a very silly girl, my dear,” she said. ”But oh! how you do love him! And what an exquisite hour you are having!”

For ten minutes she sat alone; then the door was flung open and her host returned, no longer with the gay air that had sat like a new cloak upon him, but hot and sulky, the jug in his hand empty still.

”I could not milk the cow,” he admitted shortly. ”I chased one brute and then another; one I caught, but something was wrong with the abominable beast, for no milk would she give me.”

”Pray don't mind,” Sylvia soothed him, hiding laughter. ”You were kind to try. Luckily you're not the Kaiser, who prides himself on doing all things. I wonder, now, if _he_ could milk a cow?”

”He should learn, if not,” broke out the chamois-hunter. ”There's no telling, it seems, when one may want the strangest accomplishments, and be shamed for lack of them.”

”No, not shamed,” protested Sylvia. ”I am no longer thirsty, and you have been so good. See; while you were gone, I ate the bread-and-ham, and never did any meal taste better. Now, you will have many things to do; I've trespa.s.sed too long; and, besides, I have a friend waiting.

Will you tell me by what name I shall remember you when I recall this day?”

”They named me--for the Kaiser.”

”Oh, then I shall call you Max. _Max_! What a nice name! I like it, I think, as well as any I have ever heard. Will you shake hands for good-bye?”

The strong hand came out eagerly. ”But it is not good-bye, _gna'

Fraulein_. You must let me help you back to the path and down the mountain.”

”I wished, but dared not ask that of you, lest--like your namesake-- you were a hater of women.

”That is too hard a word, even for an emperor, lady. While as for me-- well, if I ever said to myself, 'Women are not much good to men as their companions', I'm ready to unsay it.”

”Then you shall come with me, and we'll look for the _Edelmann_, though I've wasted too much time over my own pleasure. And you shall help me; and you shall help my friend, who is so strong-minded that she will perhaps make you think even better of our s.e.x. And you shall be our guide down to Heiligengelt, where we are staying at the inn.

And you shall, if you will, carry our cloaks and rucksacks, which seem so heavy to us, but will be nothing for your strong shoulders.”

The face of the chamois-hunter expressed such mirthful appreciation of her commands, that Sylvia turned her head away, lest he should guess she held a key to the inner situation. His willingness to become a beast of burden at the service of the English lady whom he had seen, and her whom he had yet to see, was indubitably genuine. For the next few hours he was free, it seemed--this namesake of the Emperor. He had been out before dawn, and had had good luck. Later, he had returned to the hut for a meal and rest, while his friends went down to the village on business. But he had meant all along to join them sooner or later; and he hoped that he might atone by his a.s.sistance for his failure with the cow.