We had waited perhaps ten minutes when we heard a blare of trumpets and saw a small cavalcade of ladies and gentlemen ride from the castle and pass over the drawbridge.
"The lady in scarlet is the duchess," said Castleman.
"She is English," remarked Yolanda, "and loves bright colors." "Which is the princess ?" I asked of Yolanda, feeling that I also was acting my part admirably.

To my surprise she answered promptly:-- "She in blue with a falcon on her shoulder.

Am I not right, uncle ?" "Yes," responded Castleman.

Twonette confirmed the statement.
My air-castles fell noiselessly about my head.

My dreams vanished like breath from a cold mirror, and the sphinx-like face of my great riddle rose before me in defiance.
After the cavalcade had passed I found myself with Yolanda a dozen paces from the others.
"Fraeulein," I said, "I want to confess I thought you were the Princess Mary of Burgundy." Yolanda laughed softly.
"I was sure you had some such absurd notion.