How often had he indulged in vain but pleasant dreams! Even in
the old days he was always succoring some proud beauty in
distress. Sometimes it was at sea, sometimes in railroad wrecks,
sometimes in the heart of flames; but he was ever there, like a
guardian angel. It was never the same heroine, but that did not
matter; she was always beautiful and rich, high placed and
lovable, and he never failed to brush aside all obstacles that
beset the path to the church door. He had dreamed of paladins,
and here at last was his long-sought opportunity--but he could
do nothing! He laughed. How many such romances lay beneath the
banter and jest of those bald bachelor diplomat friends of his?
Had fate reserved him for one of these?
It was noon when he entered the city of Bleiberg. He went
directly to his hotel, where a bath and a change of clothes took
the stiffness from his limbs. He was in no great hurry to go to
the Grand Hotel; there was plenty of time. Happily there was no
mail for him; he was not needed in Vienna.
At two o'clock he set out for the lower town. On the way he
picked up odd ends of news.
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