"Erstwhile, Major of Engineers in the American Army?" she asked.
"I believe so, Madame," said his Lordship, stiffly.
"Thank you," she said. "And now----"
But I broke in. "Madame," I said sharply, "you have presumed beyond
forbearance. Major Moore, will you escort the lady to her companions."
Moore stepped forward and, bowing very low, offered his arm. Like a
flash, her face changed and she met him with a smile.
"Just a moment, if you please," she said, with softest accents. Then,
with studied deliberation, she turned her back on me and swept the
Princess an elaborate courtesy.
"Your Royal Highness may pardon my intrusion," she said, "when I tell
you that I am Armand Dalberg's wife---- Now, Major Moore, I am ready,"
and she put her hand upon his arm.
But Moore never moved. Instead, he looked at me for orders.
Language is utterly inadequate to describe my feelings at that moment;
so I shall not try. Imagination is better than words. I know I had an
almost uncontrollable impulse for violence--and I fancy Courtney feared
it, for he stepped quickly over and put his hand on my shoulder.
"Thank you, old man," I said. Then I looked at the Princess.
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