"Go, then, and prepare me a supper," said I. "I am indeed hungry, having journeyed far." I wanted him out of the room. The innkeeper appeared not to have the slightest intention of leaving the room to do my bidding. "Yes, Hermann," said Gretchen, coloring, "go and prepare Herr Winthrop's supper." "Thank you," said I, with a dismal effort to be ironical. The innkeeper, a puzzling smile on his lips, passed out. "Gretchen," I burst forth, "in heaven's name what does this mean? I have hunted for you day after day, week after week, month after month. I have traveled the four ends of the continent. I have lived--Oh, I do not know how I have lived! And when I do find you, it is for this!" My voice broke, and I was positively on the verge of tears. "And was all this fair to her?" asked Gretchen, coldly. "To her? I do not understand." "I mean, was all this fair to my sister?" "Gretchen," a light piercing the darkness, "has she not written to you?" "A long time ago. She wanted to see me on an important matter, but I could not change my plans at the time. I shall see her at the palace next week. Ought you not to be with her instead of here?" "Why should I be with her?" Gretchen laughed, but the key was false. "Are you not going to marry her? Surely, it is easy after the King has given his permission. Have you already fallen out of love with her, after all your efforts to make her a Princess? Truly, man is as unstable as sand and water! Ah, but you fooled us all to the top of our bent. You knew from the first that she was a Princess; but you could not find the proofs. Hermann and I were the means to the end. But who shall blame you? Not I! I am very grateful to you for having given to me a sister. And if you fooled me, I returned measure for measure. It is game and quit. Time hung heavy on my hands, and the victory, however short, was amusing." "I never loved her!" I cried. Where were the words I needed? "So much the worse for you," disdainfully. "But here comes Hermann to announce your supper." "I shall not break the bread of inhospitality," said I, in the bitterness of my despair. I gathered up my traps--and then I let them tumble back. The needed words came with a rush to my lips. I went close to her. "Why did you humiliate yourself in begging my life of the Prince? Why, if my life was nothing to you? Answer. Why did you stoop to your knees to that man if I was worthless to you? Why?" Her cheeks grew red, then white; her lips formed words which she could not speak. "Herr Winthrop's supper is ready," announced the innkeeper. "Go and eat it!" I said childishly. "Your appetite is gone then?" imperturbably. "Yes, and get you gone with it!" The innkeeper surveyed me for a space. "Will you kindly tell me from whom you received the information that Her Highness was at the inn?" I produced the unsigned letter. He read it carefully, while Gretchen looked on nervously.