A bar of sunlight suddenly pervaded the room; red sunlight, lighting in its passing a tableau I shall never forget. Gretchen stood at her full height, her arms held closely to her sides and her hands clenched. On her face there was that half smile called consciousness of triumph. Hillars was gazing at her with his soul swimming in his eyes. And I--I had a wild desire to throw myself at her feet, then and there. Over the hard-set visage of the innkeeper the bar of sunlight traveled; over the scowling countenance of the Prince, over the puzzled brow of the Count, and going, left a golden purple in its wake, which imperceptibly deepened. The Prince was first to speak. "I protest," said he. "Against what?" asked Gretchen. "It is the King's will that you become my wife. He will not tolerate this attitude of yours. Your principality is in jeopardy, let me tell you." "Does the fact that I have promised the King to become your wife detract from my power? Not a jot. Till you are my husband, I am mistress here--and after." "As to that, we shall see," said the Prince. "Then you intend to keep your promise?" "Is there man or woman who can say that I ever broke one?" "Your Highness, what are your commands?" It was the innkeeper who spoke. His fingers were twitching about the hammer of his carbine. He nodded approvingly toward me. My assault upon the Prince had brought me again into his good graces. 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." "The latter sacrifice was not asked of you," smiled the Prince.