Gretchen did not answer him, but she smiled kindly.

"Ah, yes!" said the Prince. "This is that Breunner fellow."

The innkeeper made a movement. The Prince saw it, and so did I.
Prince Ernst of Wortumborg was never so near death in all his life as
at that moment. He knew it, too.

"Your Highness has a very good memory," said the innkeeper, dryly.

"There are some things it were best to forget," replied the Prince.

"I am pleased that Your Highness shares my opinion," returned the old
fellow. The muzzle of the carbine was once more pointed at the ceiling.

The rest of us looked on, but we understood nothing of these passes.
Even Gretchen was in the dark.

"We met long ago," said the innkeeper.

"Yes; but I have really forgotten what the subject of Our discussion
was," said the Prince, regarding the innkeeper through half-closed
lids. "Perhaps he can explain."

"It is very kind of Your Highness," said the innkeeper, laughing
maliciously. "But I am old, and my memory serves me ill."

The Prince shrugged. "But we have drifted away from the present
matter. Your Highness, then, promises to bend to the will of the King?"

"Yes," said Gretchen. "I gave the King my promise because I had
wearied of resistance, having no one to turn to--then. I shall marry
you, though I detest you; but I shall be your wife only in name, and
not in the eyes of God."