Then the dinner-bell rang; and in heavy haste he rolled off to the dining-room.
Miss Lambart was betaking herself to her bedroom to dress, when the archduke's equerry, the young mustached Count Zerbst came running up the stairs, bidding her in the name of his master come to dinner at once, as she was.

She took no heed of the command, dressed at her ease, and came down just as the archduke, perspiring freely after his struggle with the hors-d'oeuvres, soup and fish, was plunging upon his first entree.
He ate it with great emphasis; and as he ate it he questioned her about the place where his daughter was encamped and the friends she was encamped with.

Miss Lambart described the knoll and its position as clearly as she could, and of the Twins she said as little as possible.
Then he asked her with considerable acerbity why she had not exercised her authority and brought the princess back with her.
Miss Lambart said that she had no authority over the princess; and that if she had had it, the princess would have disregarded it wholly, and that it was impossible to haul a recalcitrant Hohenzollern through miles of wood by force, since the persons of Hohenzollerns were sacrosanct.
The archduke said that the only thing to do was to go himself and summon home his truant child.

Miss Lambart objected that it would mean hewing expensively a path through the wood wide enough to permit his passage, and it was improbable that the owner of the wood would allow it.

Thereupon the baroness volunteered to go.