"You've got a plan of some sort," said I. "Speak it out."

"It wasn't a plan; it was just an idea. It's gone now. Maybe it will
come back later. Are you going to stay here, or come with me and
tackle a bottle of the innkeeper's Rhine wine? The German vinegar used
to make you hilarious."

"What's the coach for?" I asked. "Are they going to carry us off like
a couple of chickens?"

"I presume it is for her Serene Highness. I wonder how they found out
she was here? Probably the lieutenant you were going to fight, but
didn't, informed them. At any rate, the coach will not be for us. The
Prince will not bother with you and me while the Princess is here. I
don't know what they will do with us; possibly nothing, possibly put us
in jail. Come along; I'm thirsty."

It was late in the afternoon of the day following. I had not seen her
Serene Highness, the Princess Hildegarde--Gretchen. She had remained
in her room, and all efforts of mine to hold communication with her had
proved futile. I had stood at her door and supplicated; she had told
me to go away. The innkeeper had scowled when I suggested that he
carry a note to his mistress. He had refused.

"The Princess receives no notes," he had said. "Gretchen--it was a
different matter."