"I have felt it this past quarter of an hour, Princess," he answered, twirling at his frozen moustache. "Already wild hopes are stirring in my bosom." "You are not going to propose, are you?" she asked calmly, but with a most delicious quiver of the lips. Trafford looked at his fair interrogator steadily a few seconds before replying. If ever encouragement was legible in bright eyes and challenging smile, it was writ clear in the facile features of the Princess von Schattenberg. Again he drank deep of beauty and his brain reeled among the stars. "Not exactly a proposal, but I'll make you a proposition," he said in a voice typically American in its business-like tone. They had entered a narrow side street, and the driver was pulling up his horse before a disreputable-looking wine shop. Dismissing the sleigh the Princess led the way into the building through a low, malodorous room--where a number of men were swilling beery smoking, and playing dominoes--and penetrated to inner chamber. "And is this your home?" inquired Trafford. "One of them," was the reply. "An outlaw must sleep where she can--it's wise to vary one's abode." An old man in shirt-sleeves and apron entered the room and demanded their pleasure. "We want nothing except solitude," said the Princess. "May we have that, Herr Krantz?" "Most certainly, your High----, gracious lady. You will not be interrupted unless----" "Thanks, good Herr Krantz, I understand." The old landlord inclined his bald head and quitted the shabby apartment. The Princess motioned to her companion to be seated, pointing to a chair at a small table, then taking a seat opposite him, she rested her pretty head on her hands, her elbows resting on the table, and surprised him by suddenly popping out: "And now about that proposition of yours----" Trafford's countenance indicated that he thought that the bantering note in her voice and words was distinctly out-of-place, but notwithstanding he drew his chair closer and began: "Princess, we have not known each other long----" "We have not known each other at all," she quickly interrupted. "Pardon me," corrected Trafford, with a fierce energy that always possessed him at a crisis. "You diagnosed me admirably in your dressing-room at the Eden Theatre. With equal perspicacity I have diagnosed you on our frosty drive hither. Shall I tell it?--yes? Well, then, a nature ardent but pure, fierce without being cruel, simple without being foolish. I see youth, birth and beauty blended into one exhilarating whole--and I bow down and worship. To a heart like yours, nothing is impossible--not even the capacity of falling in love with an adventurous American. I do not make you a proposal of marriage, but a matrimonial proposition." He paused to note the effect of his words before concluding with: "Now then, if by my efforts I can secure for you the throne of Grimland, will you reward me with your heart and hand?"