The news of the discovery of Ferrari in her Highness's apartments spread through Stuttgart during the evening, and there arose a wave of intense indignation. The GrÄvenitz was loudly denounced as the instigator of the attempted crime, and a mob gathered before the JÄgerhaus, clamouring in their fierce, blind rage to destroy the house where the hated woman had resided. The riot grew so serious that it was necessary to call out the town guard, and though the knot of violent rioters was easily dispersed by the soldiers, still during the whole night Stuttgart continued in an uproar, and fears of a dangerous disturbance were entertained.

Messengers sped away to Urach, carrying the news of Ferrari's attempt and exaggerated reports of the unquiet state of the town.

Early on the following morning Forstner, who resided for the most part at Stuttgart, finding the GrÄvenitz court little to his liking, arrived at Urach, and pleading urgent private business was immediately admitted to his Highness's audience-chamber.

Wilhelmine from her powdering-closet could hear Forstner's deep voice, but, though she much desired it, she could not distinguish the words. Once she caught the name 'Ferrari,' and then again 'her Highness.' Could it be the old story of Glaser and the white powder? she wondered. Impatiently she tapped her foot on the ground. She called Maria and inquired if Ferrari was in the castle. She was told he had left Urach early on the preceding morning and had not been seen since. Wilhelmine grew anxious at this. It struck her disagreeably that the absent Italian should be the subject of Forstner's early visit. Ferrari had been strangely gloomy and preoccupied of late, she had remarked. Indeed, he had brooded in this fashion ever since the Glaser affair. True, Wilhelmine had taunted him cruelly with his failure, and the man always took her lightest word to heart. He had conceived an affection for her which was a trifle inconvenient—a jealous, fierce affection made grotesque by his ugly, undersized person.

Eberhard Ludwig entered the powdering closet. His face was deadly pale, and his eyes held a look of horror and disgust which warned Wilhelmine of some grave occurrence.

'I have news of serious import, Madame,' he said coldly; 'kindly dismiss your serving-woman. I wish to speak to you in private.'

Maria left the room with a sniff; she was accustomed to better treatment. In fact, she bade fair to become a tyrant to her lenient mistress.

'Mon Prince!' cried Wilhelmine as the woman disappeared, 'whatever the news, you seem to show me an ugly frown. I, at least, cannot have displeased my beloved master, for I have not left his side, and our commune together cannot have given him offence.' She spoke lightly, but she watched his Highness's stern face anxiously. It softened at her words.

'Ah, Wilhelmine, beloved, a terrible thing has happened! And you are gravely accused.' Then he poured forth the whole story of Ferrari's attempt. Wilhelmine listened in silence; she knew that his accusation was extremely serious, and the facts most difficult to explain away. To her consternation she saw that his Highness himself half suspected her of having a hand in the matter.

'Every criminal is allowed to answer his accuser,' she said, when Eberhard Ludwig finished his narration. He started forward.

'Accuser! Wilhelmine, am I your accuser? Do you think I doubt you? but, O God! the facts are black against you.'

'Your words do not accuse me, Eberhard,' she answered; 'but your eyes and the stern soul behind them accuse me. Nay, listen; how often have you praised me, calling me a woman of much intelligence? Now, I ask you, consider for a moment how a woman, gifted with even a spark of this same intelligence, could act so foolishly as to have her declared enemy, the obstacle to her happiness, removed by the poignard of a servant well known to be in her employ? That is one plea I would put forward, Monseigneur. Then again, should I select the moment to contrive her Highness's death when the world is ringing with that preposterous Glaser story? I am branded as a bigamist,' she added bitterly; 'do you fancy I wish to add the title murderess to my name?'

'But explain the circumstance of your servant being discovered, poignard in hand, lurking in the Princess Johanna Elizabetha's rooms. And oh! Wilhelmine, forgive me; but this preposterous Glaser story, as you call it, has never been properly explained. You have laughed, and I have put the matter out of my thoughts; but now—O beloved! it is so terrible to doubt you, but——'

Wilhelmine was unprepared for this retrospective attack. She hesitated, and his Highness's face grew dark.

'I really must ask you to explain,' he said harshly, moving away from her.

'Eberhard,' she said brokenly, 'I sent the powder to the Duchess.'

Serenissimus started forward. 'You confess? O my God!' he cried.

'Yes; I will tell you. The powder was a harmless philtre. I brewed a magic draught which causes whoever drinks it to forget the being they love, and become enamoured of the first person they see. O Eberhard, believe me!'

'Fairy tales!' he almost laughed. 'But why given in secret? why given at all?' he demanded.

'If she forgot you, forgot your charm, beloved, she would be happy again. I had pity on her!'

It was poison she had sent, and even to herself her story seemed too extravagant for credence. To her surprise, however, his Highness believed her in this.

'Well, and for the rest? for Ferrari's being hidden in the castle?' he questioned.

'Call Maria and ask her if I was aware that the madman had left Urach. She can vouch that I thought him to be here.'

'Why did he do this thing?' said the Duke. 'What explanation did he offer?' she queried hurriedly.

'That he wished to see the black rooms!' he replied.

'Well, but surely that is explanation enough? You know the man's extraordinary love of beauty, his curious seeking for unusual furniture. He is mad, Eberhard; I tell you he is mad! We must save him from prison and send him back to Italy.' She spoke so naturally, so easily, that his Highness felt that sense of the unaccustomed, the unknown evil, the grim suspicion of crime fall away, and an immense relief take its place.

'Of course, of course!' he said hurriedly; 'I was frightened by that fool Forstner. Forgive me for my insane suspicion.' And he hastened away to assure Forstner of the sheer absurdity of this accusation.

Perhaps he would have been a trifle shaken in his confidence had he seen Wilhelmine fall back in her chair, breathing hard like some wild animal who had escaped the hunter's knife by a hair's-breadth.

If Serenissimus was thus easily appeased, the authorities and citizens of Stuttgart were not to be put off with a mere tale. Also Johanna Elizabetha's friends and partisans were loud in their accusations of the GrÄvenitz. Ferrari had been released from prison by the Duke's command. The man was mad, his Highness averred, and it was but merciful to send him back to Italy. It leaked out that the Italian had left Wirtemberg, but it was whispered that he carried a large sum of gold with him.

'Blood money,' said the Stuttgarters, and their indignation grew apace. SchÜtz wrote from Vienna that things were going badly for the GrÄvenitz. The Emperor had been informed of the Ferrari affair, and was reported to have expressed his opinion in no measured terms. In fact, SchÜtz strongly advised the Countess of Urach to leave Wirtemberg for a time, but the lady remained firm. 'Go, I will not, until I am obliged, and that is not yet,' she declared.

So the days passed as usual at Urach, outwardly. The Duke shot roebuck daily in the early morning, the Countess often accompanying him. Later, Serenissimus would ride young and fiery horses; but in this the Countess did not take part, she was but a poor horsewoman. Then came a delicious banquet, with the Countess of Urach's musicians in attendance discoursing fair melodies.

During the afternoon his Highness drove eight, ten, and sometimes twelve horses together, thundering through the country, and the peasants soon learnt to associate their heretofore beloved ruler with clouds of dust and ruthless speed. A demon driver rushing past, who, they said, would crush them were they not quick to fly to safety in their houses or fields.

A demon driver with a beautiful, haughty-faced woman beside him. Verily an appalling picture to the sleepy Swabian peasant accustomed to the heavy swaying motion of quiet oxen or laborious cart-horses.

Each evening at the castle of Urach there were merry doings: dancing, cards, and music. It all seemed gay and secure enough, but there was unrest beneath this outward peace, an anxious feeling in the revellers' hearts. Madame de Ruth chattered wittily; Zollern, gallant and wise, made subtle ironic speeches; Wilhelmine sang, Serenissimus adored, the Sittmanns and the parasites were chorus to this—a chorus a little out of tune at times, perchance, but passable.

At length the imperial ultimatum arrived, and, like a card house blown by a strong man's breath, the sham court fell, and the Queen of Hearts knew that the game was played out.

'Wilhelmine, Countess GrÄvenitz, masquerading under the title of Countess of Urach, is hereby declared an exile from all countries under our suzerainty, nor can she hold property in these aforementioned countries, nor call for the law's protection. From the date of this writing she is given six days wherein to leave Wirtemberg. After the expiration of this term she must, an she remaineth in the land, stand her trial for bigamy, treason, and implication in attempted murder.'—Signed and sealed by the Emperor this.

There was no possible gainsaying; already the time allotted to her for flight was exceeded, and at any moment she might be arrested by the imperial order.

She fled to Schaffhausen once more, and in Stuttgart there was great rejoicing; but the joy was dashed to the ground when the news came that Serenissimus had also disappeared. Had he fled with his evil mistress, then? It was positively averred, however, that she had gone alone with Madame de Ruth. Witchcraft, of course! The GrÄvenitzin had bewitched herself once before when she had disappeared for three days from the old castle. His Highness himself had said openly that she had returned to him in a flash of lightning. What more likely than that she should have spirited Serenissimus away with her to Switzerland?

'Nonsense,' said the Duchess-mother at Stetten; 'Eberhard is roaming in the woods, crying to the trees that he is a broken-hearted martyr!' And she hurried to Urach, taking up her abode in the very apartments which Wilhelmine had just vacated. It is on record that her maternal Highness caused the rooms to be swept and garnished, ere she entered, as though they were infected with the pest. 'So they are,' quoth this plain-speaking dame, 'with the pest of vice!'

It is to be supposed that the Duchess-mother was right in her surmise regarding her son's forest wanderings, for a messenger arrived from Urach saying Serenissimus would re-enter Stuttgart with his mother in a few days' time; which he did, and was solemnly and publicly reconciled to the Duchess Johanna Elizabetha. The grateful burghers voted their Duke a free present of forty thousand gulden on his return, and to his Duchess ten thousand gulden.

The Duchess-mother is reported to have remarked that, of a truth, it had been fitting had they paid her back a portion of the war indemnity. 'But it does not matter,' she said, 'so long as that absurd boy, my son Eberhard, remains at his duties in future.' Dear, proud, sensible old lady! God rest her well! To her mother's heart, the thirty-seven-year-old Duke of Wirtemberg, hero, traveller, incidentally bigamist, remained eternally 'that absurd boy, my son.'

It was with mingled feelings that Wilhelmine at Schaffhausen heard of Eberhard Ludwig's reconciliation with his wife. Anger and scorn of the man's weakness predominated, but despair and humiliation tortured her as well, and a profound discouragement, which the sound of the rushing, foaming Rhine falls had no power to sooth this time. The enforced inaction was terrible to her. It was her strategy to leave his Highness's passionate letters of excuse and explanation unanswered, and thus she had little wherewith to fill the long summer days. Madame de Ruth was a delightful companion, but Wilhelmine was unresponsive and seemed absorbed in some intricate calculation. She would sit for hours, brooding sombrely. Her eyes, narrowed and serpent-like, gazed at the rushing waters, but when Madame de Ruth remarked on the beauty of the scene she would answer irritably that she was occupied, and only begged for quiet in which to think. Towards the middle of August SchÜtz arrived from Vienna. He brought with him a document which he prayed Wilhelmine to consider, and to sign if she approved. It was entitled 'Revers de Wilhelmine, Comtesse GrÄvenitz,' and set forth that she undertook to relinquish all claims upon the Duke of Wirtemberg and his heirs forever. That she recognised any child, born of her relationship to his Highness, to be a bastard, and that she undertook never to return to the court of Wirtemberg. If she bound herself to these conditions, the Emperor, in return, promised to cancel her exile from his fiefs with the sole exception of Wirtemberg. The right to hold property would be given back to her, and she would be released from suspicion of murderous intent. His Majesty even promised her twenty thousand gulden as compensation for any wrong done to her in Wirtemberg.

Wilhelmine hesitated, pondered, and finally despatched SchÜtz to Stuttgart with a copy of the imperial document. He laid it before the Privy Council, and stated that his client, the Countess GrÄvenitz, was prepared to accept these proposals, on the condition that Wirtemberg paid her a further sum in compensation for her loss of honour, property, and prospects.

The Privy Council fell into the trap. Anything to be finally rid of the dangerous woman, done with the whole noisome story. They had the example of MÖmpelgard before them, and they feared for Wirtemberg to be involved in a similar tangle. Now MÖmpelgard, or MontbÉliard, as the French-speaking court named it, was a small principality ruled by Eberhard Ludwig's cousin, Duke Leopold Eberhard of Wirtemberg, a liegeman of Louis xiv. of France, and a man of strange notions. He had been reared in the religion of Mahomet, and with the faith he held the customs of Islam. Thus he had married three women at once, legally, as he averred; and in any case, the three wives lived in splendour at MÖmpelgard's castle. These ladies had had issue, and the succession to the MÖmpelgard honours was complicated.

Naturally Stuttgart's GeheimrÄthe, with this cousinly example in their minds, longed for the GrÄvenitz to renounce all future claims upon the Dukedom of Wirtemberg, both for herself and for any issue of her 'marriage' with Eberhard Ludwig.

Thus when SchÜtz conveyed her demand for money as a condition to her renouncement, they listened to the preposterous request, and declared themselves ready to pay the favourite compensation. SchÜtz returned to Schaffhausen with this news, and was immediately re-despatched to Stuttgart with a demand for two hundred thousand gulden as the price of her renouncement.

The GeheimrÄthe were aghast. Twenty thousand, nay, even forty thousand, gulden they would pay, but two hundred thousand! This vast sum to be wrung out of the war-impoverished land! Impossible! Besides, it was as much as the marriage-portion of six princesses of Wirtemberg.

The Duke was approached. He retorted that the Countess of GrÄvenitz was perfectly justified in any demand she chose to make. The Duchess-mother arrived, and spoke, as usual, plainly to her son; but he had not forgotten how his mother had dragged him, like a repentant school-child, from Urach to be reconciled to Johanna Elizabetha. He owed the Duchess-mother a grudge, and paid it by remaining firm concerning the justice of Wilhelmine's claim.

The Privy Council offered her twenty thousand gulden. Then forty thousand. Both sums were refused. 'Two hundred thousand or nothing,' she answered. So the negotiations were broken off. Meanwhile, had the GeheimrÄthe but known it, the 'Revers' had long been signed, sealed, and despatched to Vienna.

Wilhelmine again sent SchÜtz to Stuttgart with the message that, as she had not been given just and fair compensation, she would know how, at a future date, to wring out from Wirtemberg a hundred times the modest sum refused her.

The GeheimrÄthe, thinking their foe vanquished and the affair at an end, laughed at this threat. They would have trembled had they known that the GrÄvenitz had a plan, and that their Duke was cognisant of the whole matter.

Wilhelmine, gazing at the waters of the Rhine with her half-closed, serpent-like eyes, sought for some device which should enable her to return to Stuttgart. In the first place, she loved power; in the second, she loved Eberhard Ludwig; in the third, she yearned to outwit her enemy Johanna Elizabetha and her opposers generally. Then she longed once more to defy the Duchess-mother, whom she, at the same time, greatly dreaded.

By this you will see that Wilhelmine was no longer merely the gay, charming, if scheming woman who had come to Wirtemberg sixteen months before. She had developed. Her extraordinary prosperity had poisoned her being. She had grown hard. Could she not achieve the height of power by one road, very well, she was ready to climb back by any circuitous path she could find. For many days her ingenuity and her searchings failed to show her any way back to Stuttgart. It was the pretext for returning which she sought; once there she knew she could grasp power again, and this time she intended to retain it. A chance speech of Madame de Ruth's set her on the track.

'Ah! my dear, we have gone too far; it is perilous to stand on the top of the hill; better to remain near the summit, indeed, but on some sheltered ledge whence we cannot be toppled over. Had I had my way, you should have married some high court dignitary, and as his wife you could have ruled undisturbed.' 'Can the wife of a court dignitary not be forbidden the court?' said Wilhelmine idly.

'Naturally, my dear! The Emperor cannot order an official of a German state to remove his wife from the court where he is employed.'

'Only the prince's wedded wife can be exiled, then?' said Wilhelmine sneeringly.

'My dear! we climbed too high, alas!' Madame de Ruth replied.

Her words had started Wilhelmine on a new track of thought. Married to a courtier holding high office at court, she could return and resume her career. But that would declare her marriage with Eberhard Ludwig to be a farce, she reflected. Still, if this were the only way? In her mental vision she reviewed each courtier, but she could find none fitting for the position of husband in name. SchÜtz perhaps? She laughed at the very idea. No; the bridegroom must be a man of much breeding and no morals.

She wrote to SchÜtz requesting him to journey to Schaffhausen on important business. The attorney arrived, and Wilhelmine observed how shabby was his coat, how rusty his general appearance. He was again the pettifogging lawyer in poor circumstances, and Wilhelmine reflected that he would be all the more anxious to serve her in order to return to his ill-gotten splendour at her illegitimate court.

SchÜtz responded eagerly to her proposal. He acclaimed her a marvel of intelligence, and assured her that in Vienna he would be able to find the very article—a ruined nobleman ready to sell his name to any bidder.

On the day following SchÜtz's advent at Schaffhausen, Wilhelmine was surprised by a visit from her brother Friedrich, who arrived in a deeply injured mood. Since Wilhelmine left Urach, he averred, he had been treated in a manner all unfitting for an Oberhofmarshall, and the head of the noble family of GrÄvenitz. Serenissimus had paid him scant attention, and Stafforth had been reinstated as Hofmarshall to the Duchess Johanna Elizabetha—a brand new dignity, complained this Oberhofmarshall of a sham court. He made himself mighty disagreeable to his sister, varying his behaviour by outbursts of despair and noisy self-pity, which would have been laughable had they not been so loud, violent, and disturbing. Wilhelmine informed him of her plan, and after many expressions of disapproval, when she had made it clear to him that it would be entirely to his advantage if she succeeded in her design, he gave the ugly plan his brotherly blessing and his sanction as head of the family.

Hereupon SchÜtz returned to Vienna to seek a bridegroom. In an astonishingly short time, he wrote that he had found an admirably adapted person in the Count Joseph Maria Aloysius Nepomuk von WÜrben, a gentleman of very old lineage, and ex-owner of a dozen castles in Bohemia, all of which, however, had gradually been converted into gulden, and the gold pieces, in their turn, had vanished into the recollection of many lost card games. This personage, owing to his sad misfortunes, found himself at the age of sixty inhabiting a garret in Vienna.

SchÜtz wrote that he knew Monsieur le Comte well. They met constantly at the eating-house. He further assured her that WÜrben was a very pleasant companion. Wilhelmine replied that it was profoundly indifferent to her whether her future husband was an agreeable companion or not, as she intended only to see him once—viz., at her own marriage, after which ceremony he could follow his namesake St. Nepomuk into the waves of the Moldau, for aught she cared! It angered her that SchÜtz wrote concerning WÜrben, as though he were in truth to be the companion of her life, and she winced under a new note of familiarity which had crept into the attorney's tone.

Friedrich GrÄvenitz, who had taken up his abode in Wilhelmine's house at Schaffhausen, made matters worse by what he conceived to be witty and subtle pleasantries. He was never done with his allusions to 'mon cher futur beau frÈre À Vienne,' and he playfully called his sister 'la petite fiancÉe.'

On a golden evening of late September, WÜrben, accompanied by SchÜtz, arrived at Schaffhausen. Wilhelmine and Madame de Ruth saw the coach crawling up the steep incline which led to the little castle that Zollern had given to the favourite. With difficulty Madame de Ruth had induced Wilhelmine to offer her future husband one day's hospitality. The wedding was fixed for the morning after WÜrben's arrival, and the bridegroom had agreed to return to Vienna immediately after the ceremony.

'I have the honour to present to you Monsieur le Comte de WÜrben!' said SchÜtz, as he ushered in the noble Bohemian. WÜrben bowed to the ground, and Wilhelmine and Madame de Ruth bent in grand courtesies.

'Delighted to see you, mon cher! Welcome to our family!' cried Friedrich GrÄvenitz ostentatiously, departing entirely from the ceremonious code of those days, which hardly permitted the nearest friends to greet each other in this informal manner. But Friedrich GrÄvenitz prided himself on his friendliness and geniality, and, like most genial persons, he constantly floundered into tactlessness and vulgarity. On this occasion his misplaced affability was received with undisguised disapproval. Madame de Ruth tapped him on the arm with her fan; Wilhelmine shot him a furious, snake-like glance; WÜrben himself looked surprised, and merely responded with a bow to the effusive speech. SchÜtz, of course, was the only one to whom it appeared natural, nay, correct. In his world geniality, translated into jocoseness, was indispensable before, during, and after a wedding—even at these scarcely usual nuptials!

Now WÜrben came forward. 'Mademoiselle de GrÄvenitz,' he said, 'believe me, I am deeply sensible of the great honour you will do me.'

'Monsieur, I thank you,' began Wilhelmine; but Friedrich GrÄvenitz interposed pompously:

'As the head of the family, Monsieur, I wish to express to you my pleasure at the thought of my sister bearing your ancient name.'

'My name is much at Mademoiselle your sister's service,' responded WÜrben; and Madame de Ruth surprised a covert sneer on the old rouÉ's lips.

'Come, mes amis!' she cried, 'the travellers must be in need of refreshment. Will you not repair to the guest-chamber, gentlemen? and when you have removed the dust of travel from your clothes, we will partake of an early supper.'

'Madame de Ruth, I will escort the gentlemen to their apartments, if they wish it,' said Friedrich pompously, opening his eyes wide in what he thought was a reproving look, but in truth was only angrily foolish.

'Thank you, Friedrich. I will tell you when I wish your assistance,' said Wilhelmine calmly. 'Dear Madame de Ruth, you are right. I think Baron SchÜtz knows the way to the guest-chamber? or shall I tell my brother to summon a lackey?' Her tone was haughty to insolence. The irritation, the disgust, the hatred of her odious though necessary plan, made her mood evil. She was grateful to WÜrben for his silence, and his fine, if somewhat contemptuous manner, and she bestowed a smile on him as he passed out of the room.

A constrained silence fell on the remaining three. Wilhelmine leaned back in the chair into which she had sunk directly SchÜtz and WÜrben disappeared; her elbows rested on the chair-arms, and her fingers were pressed together at the points in an attitude of fastidious, artificial prayer. Madame de Ruth fanned herself slowly and watched Friedrich GrÄvenitz, who stood paring his nails with a small file he had taken from his pocket.

'I certainly do not like your way towards me, Wilhelmine,' he broke forth, puffing out his fine torso. 'You show a spirit which is not nice towards the head of your family! I think——'

'Dear Friedrich, if you could but realise that I do not care what you think,' Wilhelmine interrupted icily.

'And your manner was not kind to WÜrben—a nice man, I like him!' said her brother in an almost ecstatic tone.

'How fortunate!' she called after Friedrich's retreating figure, as he strode across the room with such pompous haste that the affairs of the whole Empire might have waited his directions.

The two ladies smiled at one another wearily when he had gone; then, without honouring this self-sufficient person with a word of comment, they fell to discussing WÜrben. This Bohemian nobleman was not an altogether unpleasing personality. Of middle height, he had a stoop which caused him to appear short; it was not the stoop of the scholar, but that bend which ill-health, caused by debauch, often gives to a comparatively young man. His face was sallow, hollow beneath the eyes, emaciated between chin and cheek-bone. The brown eyes were feverishly bright and a trifle blood-shot. The well-shaven mouth had loose, sensual lips, and the teeth were large and discoloured. And yet one knew that this man, repulsive though he had become, must have been a youth of promise and some personal beauty; and his manner betokened the man of breeding, and one with knowledge of the great world. His sneer at the unholy bargain he was about to make told Madame de Ruth that he was fully aware of the degradation of it. An admirably adapted person for the purpose, she reflected; for, being ashamed of his bargain, he would hide in Vienna, content so long as he had sufficient money to risk at l'hombre and faro. This she and Wilhelmine discussed while SchÜtz and WÜrben were upstairs removing their dusty garments.

Suddenly Friedrich GrÄvenitz burst into the room. 'His Highness has just ridden up to the door! This is really most inconvenient, most difficult for me.' He spoke loudly.

'Hush! be careful! WÜrben must not hear,' implored Madame de Ruth, while Wilhelmine sprang up. She breathed in laboured gasps, her eyes fixed wildly on her brother.

'His Highness? You are mad, Friedrich! or is this some absurd plot against me?' She turned on her brother fiercely. 'Is this some foolishness you have arranged?'

'It has nothing to do with me. I am never consulted,' he began; but his further utterance was cut short, for Eberhard Ludwig entered unannounced.

'Leave us together,' he said shortly. 'For God's sake, Madame de Ruth, manage that I may speak with her undisturbed.' Madame de Ruth hurried Friedrich GrÄvenitz away with scant ceremony.

'My beloved! oh, to see you again!' Serenissimus clasped her to him. 'Tell me you are mine, as you were at Urach! Am I in time to hinder this terrible sacrilege?' She told him that the marriage had not yet taken place, that it was for the morrow.

'It cannot be; you are my wife by the laws of God and man! I cannot suffer you to be called the wife of another. Tell me that you will not do this thing. Wilhelmine, my beloved, you cannot—you cannot——' He held her hand in his, speaking rapidly, indistinctly.

'There is no other way,' she said sadly.

'But it is not possible! You cannot, it is a shameful thing. I forbid you to do it. I will never leave you again. My son may reign at Stuttgart. See, beloved, we will live here together—live out our days in peace and love. It shall be a poem, an idyll—far from all interruptions, far from intrigues!'

He looked into her face with shining eyes, but he found there no answering spark of enthusiasm. Dropping her hand he turned away. She was aghast. True, she loved Eberhard Ludwig, but she realised at that moment how much more potent was her love of splendour and power. What! to drag out her life at Schaffhausen—even with him at her side? No, it was impossible.

'Eberhard, be reasonable. This marriage is no marriage, it is simply the purchase of a name. You know well enough the conditions which are accepted by WÜrben. Twenty thousand gulden on the day of our contract, twelve thousand gulden a year for his life. Various fine titles and court charges, provided he undertakes never to appear in Stuttgart, never to claim his marriage rights! He is to sign this document in the presence of the lawyers to-morrow before our——' she hesitated, 'before our marriage.'

'But you will vow before God to love and obey this man; you will give him your hand and kneel with him in prayer. Something of the sanctity of our true vows will be filched away. Sacred you are to me for ever, but oh! this will be desecration! you cannot, you must not——' he moaned.

'You knew this before. You knew and approved, and now you hinder the completion of the only plan by which I can return to you. You cannot give up your Dukedom, you cannot leave Stuttgart, and we cannot live apart.' She spoke harshly. 'But is Stuttgart so much to you? Wilhelmine, do you love me only as Duke of Wirtemberg?' His eyes were full of tears. 'Alas! I am the most miserable of men.'

'Eberhard, heart of my life, look in my face and see if I love you! But because I love you I dare not take you away from your great position, from your ambition.'

'Ambition,' he broke in, 'ambition! I am ready to renounce everything——'

'Will you let yourself sink into a mooning poet, my hero of great battles? No! you shall go back, dear love—back to your grand, soldier's life! See, I will stay here and dream of you, if you will not let me take the only path back to Wirtemberg. You shall write to me, sometimes send me a poem, a jewel perhaps—but we shall be parted! O Eberhard!' She sighed deeply, but her strange, hard eyes watched him narrowly. He turned away his face. She saw that her reminder of his military ambition had succeeded as she expected.

'You are right. Alas! this horrible degradation, this masquerading before God—and yet it is the only way.'

Her arms stole round him. Against his cheek he felt her smooth skin, her warm lips sought his.

'I love you, only you,' she whispered. 'In a few days I follow you to Stuttgart. Come to me!'

He flung her from him almost roughly.

'Not now! God in heaven! not now! Can you dream that at such a time I could? It would make the hideous bargain you contemplate to-morrow one degree more vile.' He turned from her and fled. In a moment she heard the clatter of his horse's hoofs in the courtyard.