The Princess Virginia. Williamson Charles Norris

is a good chamois hunter,” she carelessly went on. “But that, perhaps, is only the flattery which makes the atmosphere of Royalty. No doubt you, for instance, could really give him many points in chamois hunting?”

      The young man smiled. “The Emperor’s not a bad shot.”

      “For an amateur. But you’re a professional. I wager now, that you wouldn’t for the world change places with the Emperor?”

      How the chamois hunter laughed at this, and showed his white teeth! There were those, in the towns he scorned, who would have been astonished at his light-hearted mirth.

      “Change places with the Emperor! Not – unless I were obliged, gna’ Fräulein. Not now, at all events,” with a complimentary bow and glance.

      “Thank you. You’re quite a courtier. And that reminds me of another thing they say of him in my country. The story is, that he dislikes the society of women. But perhaps it is that he doesn’t understand them.”

      “It is possible, lady. But I never heard that they were so difficult of comprehension.”

      “Ah, that shows how little you chamois hunters have had time to learn. Why, we can’t even understand ourselves, or know what we’re most likely to do next. And yet – a very odd thing – we have no difficulty in reading one another, and knowing all each other’s weaknesses.”

      “That would seem to say that a man should get a woman to choose his wife for him.”

      “I’m not so sure it would be wise. Yet your Emperor, we hear, will let the Chancellor choose his.”

      “Ah! were you told this also in your country?”

      “Yes. For the gossip is that she’s an English Princess. Now, what’s the good of being a powerful Emperor, if he can’t even pick out a wife to please his own taste?”

      “I know nothing about such high matters, gna’ Fräulein. But I fancied that Royal folk took wives to please their people rather than themselves. It’s their duty to marry, you know. And if the lady be of Royal blood, virtuous, of the right religion, not too sharp-tempered, and pleasant to look at, why – those are the principal things to consider, I should suppose.”

      “So should I not suppose, if I were a man, and – Emperor. I should want the pleasure of falling in love.”

      “Safer not, gna’ Fräulein. He might fall in love with the wrong woman.” And the chamois hunter looked with half shamed intentness into his guest’s sweet eyes.

      She blushed under his gaze, and was so conscious of the hot color, that she retorted at random. “I doubt if he could fall in love. A man who would let his Chancellor choose for him! He can have no warm blood in his veins.”

      “There I think you wrong him, lady,” the answer came quickly. “The Emperor is – a man. But it may be he has found other interests in his life more important than woman.”

      “Bringing down chamois, for instance. You would sympathize there.”

      “Chamois give good sport. They’re hard to find. Harder still to hit when you have found them.”

      “So are the best types of women. Those who, like the chamois (and the plant I spoke of) live only in high places. Oh, for the sake of my sex, I do hope that some day your Emperor will change his mind – that a woman will make him change it.”

      “Perhaps a woman has – already.”

      Virginia grew pale. Was she too late? Or was this a concealed compliment which the chamois hunter did not guess she had the clue to find? She could not answer. The silence between the two became electrical, and the young man broke it, at last, with some slight signs of confusion.

      “It’s a pity,” said he, “that our Emperor can’t hear you. He might be converted to your views.”

      “Or he might clap me into prison for lèse majesté.”

      “He wouldn’t do that, gna’ Fräulein – if he’s anything like me.”

      “Anything like you? Why, now you put me in mind of it, he’s not unlike you – in appearance, I mean, judging by his portraits.”

      “You have seen his portraits?”

      “Yes, I’ve seen some. I really think you must be a little like him, only browner and taller, perhaps. Yet I’m glad that you’re a chamois hunter and not an Emperor – almost as glad as you can be.”

      “Will you tell me why, lady?”

      “Oh, for one reason, because I couldn’t possibly ask him, if he were here in your place, what I’m going to ask of you. You’ve very kindly laid the bread and ham ready, but you forgot to cut them.”

      “A thousand pardons. Our talk has set my wits wool-gathering. My mind should have been on my manners, instead of on such far off things as Emperors and their love affairs.”

      He began hewing at the big loaf as if it were an enemy to be conquered. And there were few in Rhaetia who had ever seen those dark eyes so bright.

      “I like ham and bread cut thin, please,” said the Princess. “There – that’s better. I’ll sit here if you’ll bring the things to me, for I find that I’m tired; and you are very kind.”

      “A draught of our Rhaetian beer will do you more good than anything,” suggested the hunter, taking up the plate of bread and ham he had tried hard to cut according to her taste, placing it in her lap and going back to draw a tankard of foaming amber liquid from a quaint hogshead in a corner.

      But Virginia waved the froth-crowned pewter away with a smile and a pretty gesture. “My head has already proved not strong enough for your mountains. I’m sure it isn’t strong enough for your beer. Have you some nice cold water?”

      The young man laughed and shrugged his shoulders. “Our water here is fit only for the outside of the body,” he explained. “To us, that’s no great deprivation, as we’re all true Rhaetians for our beer. But now, on your account, I’m sorry.”

      “Perhaps you have some milk?” suggested Virginia. “I love milk. And I could scarcely count the cows, they were so many, as I came up the mountain from Alleheiligen.”

      “It’s true there are plenty of cows about,” replied her host, “and I could easily catch one. But if I fetch the beast here, can you milk it?”

      “Dear me, no; surely you, a great strong man, would never stand by and let a weak girl do that? Oh, I almost wish I hadn’t thought of the milk, if I’m not to have it. I long for it so much.”

      “You shall have the milk, lady,” returned the chamois hunter. “I – ”

      “How good you are!” exclaimed the Princess. “It will be more than nice of you. But – I don’t want you to think that I’m giving you all this trouble for nothing. Here’s something just to show that I appreciate it; and – to remember me by.”

      She would not look up, though she longed to see what expression the dark face wore, but kept her eyes upon her hand, from which she slowly withdrew a ring. It fitted tightly, for she had had it made years ago, before her slender fingers had finished growing. When at last she had pulled off the jeweled circlet of gold, she held it up, temptingly.

      “What I have done, and anything I may yet do, is a pleasure,” said the hunter. “But after all you have learned little of Rhaetia, if you think that we mountain men ever take payment from those to whom we’ve been able to show hospitality.”

      “Ah, but I’m not talking of payment,” pleaded the Princess. “I wish only to be sure that you mayn’t forget the first woman who, you tell me, has ever entered this door.”

      The young man looked at the door, not at the girl. “It is impossible that I should forget,” said he, almost stiffly.

      “Still, it will hurt me if you refuse my ring,” went on Virginia. “Please at least come and see what it’s like.”

      He obeyed, and as she still held