The great day so impatiently expected at length arrived. For six weeks the good people of Wild Oats had been in a fever of excitement. Nothing more was heard of ministers, senators, generals, magistrates, princesses, duchesses, and citizens; for twenty leagues round, clowns, harlequins, punchinellos, gipsies, Columbines, and Follies alone were to be seen. Politics were silenced, or, rather, the nation was divided into two great parties—the conservatives that went to the ball, and the opposition that stayed at home.

If the official gazette is to be believed, the festival outshone in splendor all others past and to come. The ball was held in the midst of the gardens, in a rotunda magnificently decorated. A winding walk, shaded by elms and dimly lighted by alabaster lamps, led to a hall resplendent with gold, verdure, flowers, and light. An orchestra, half concealed in the foliage, breathed forth music, by turns plaintive and gay. Add to this the richness of the costumes, the brilliancy of the diamonds, the piquancy of the masks, and the charm of intrigue, and you will see that it would have needed the soul of an ancient Stoic to resist the intoxication of pleasure.

Yet Prince Charming was not amused. Concealed under a blue domino, with his face entirely masked, he had addressed himself to the most elegant and sprightly women, and had lavishly displayed his wit and grace, yet he had met with nothing but indifference and coldness. They scarcely listened to him, answered with a yawn, and hastened to quit him. All eyes were fixed on a black domino with pink rosettes that moved carelessly among the dancers, receiving with the air of a sultan the compliments and smiles that every one lavished on him. This domino was the Lord Wieduwillst, a great friend of the prince, but still more the friend of his own pleasure. In an unguarded moment the doctor had said that morning by chance, under the seal of secrecy, and to two ladies only, that the prince would wear pink rosettes in his black domino. Was it his fault if the ladies had been indiscreet or the prince had changed his mind?

While the doctor was enjoying, despite himself, indeed, his unexpected triumph, Charming seated himself in a corner of the hall and buried his face in his hands. Alone in the midst of the crowd, he abandoned himself to reflection, and the image of Pazza rose before him. He had no reproaches to make himself; his vengeance was just, yet he felt an indescribable remorse. Poor Pazza! no doubt she had been guilty; but at least she loved him, she understood him, she listened to him, her eyes sparkling with joy. How different from all those fools who had not recognized a prince under a domino at the first moment by his wit!

He rose suddenly to quit the hall, when he perceived, a little way off, a mask that had also left the crowd and seemed lost in contemplation. A half-open domino disclosed a gipsy's dress and a pair of slippers with buckles, containing a foot smaller than that of Cinderella.

The king approached the stranger, and saw through the velvet mask a pair of large black eyes, the melancholy glance of which surprised and charmed him.

"Fair mask," said he, "your place is not here. Why are you not among the eager and curious crowd that is pressing around the prince to dispute his smile and heart? Do you not know that there is a crown to be gained there?"

"I make no pretentions," answered the domino, in a grave, sweet voice. "In this game of chance one runs the risk of taking the servant for the king. I am too proud to expose myself to such a hazard."

"But if I show you the prince?"

"What could I say to him?" replied the stranger. "I could not blame him without offense, or praise him without flattery."

"You think much evil of him, then?"

"No, a little evil and much good; but what does it matter?" And, opening her fan, the domino relapsed into her reverie.

This indifference surprised Charming. He addressed her with warmth, she replied coldly; he prayed her so urgently to listen to him that she finally consented to do so, not in the ball-room, where the heat was overpowering and the curiosity indiscreet, but in the long elm-walk, where a few promenaders were seeking silence and fresh air.

The night was advancing, and the gipsy had already spoken several times of retiring, to the great regret of the prince, who vainly entreated her to unmask. The stranger made no reply.

"You drive me to despair," cried he, inspired with strange respect and admiration for this mysterious figure. "Why this cruel silence?"

"Because I know you, my lord," replied the stranger, with emotion. "Your voice, which goes to the heart, your language, your grace, all tell me who you are. Let me go, Prince Charming."

"No, madam," cried the prince, delighted at so much wit, "you alone have recognized me, you alone have understood me, to you belong my heart and kingdom. Throw off that suspicious mask; this very instant we will return to the ball-room and I will present to the ignorant crowd the woman whom I have had the happiness not to displease. Say but one word, and all my people shall be at your feet."

"My lord," replied the stranger, sadly, "permit me to refuse an offer which does me honor and the memory of which I shall always preserve. I am ambitious, I own; the time has been when I should have been proud to share your throne and name; but before all things I am a woman and place all my happiness in love. I will not have a divided heart, should my rival be only a memory; I am jealous even of the past."

"I have never loved in my life," cried the prince, with a vehemence that made the stranger start. "There is a mystery concerning my marriage which I can reveal only to my wife; but I swear to you that I have never given away my heart; I love now for the first time."

"Show me your hand," said the gipsy, approaching the lamp, "and let me see whether you have told the truth."

Charming extended his hand with assurance; the gipsy studied the lines and sighed.

"You are right, my lord," said she, "you have never loved. But this does not appease my jealousy. Another woman has loved you before me. These sacred bonds are not broken by death; the queen still loves you—you belong to her. To accept a heart which is no longer at your disposal would be sacrilegious and criminal in me. Farewell."

"Madam," said the king, with an ill-assured voice, "you do not know what you make me suffer. There are things which I would gladly burn in eternal silence, but which you force me to reveal. The queen never loved me; ambition alone dictated her conduct."

"That is not so," said the stranger, letting go the prince's hand. "The queen loved you."

"No, madam," replied Charming; "my father and I were the victims of a detestable intrigue."

"Enough!" said the stranger, whose hands trembled and whose fingers worked in a strange manner. "Respect the dead; do not slander them."

"Madam," said the prince, "I assure you, and none ever doubted my word, that the queen never loved me. She was a wicked woman."

"Ah!" said the domino.

"Wilful, violent, and jealous."

"If she was jealous, she loved you," interrupted the mask. "Seek for proofs which have at least a shadow of probability; do not accuse a heart which was wholly yours."

"So far from loving me," said the king, excitedly, "the very night of my marriage she dared tell me to my face that she had married me only for my crown."

"That is not true," said the gipsy, raising her hand.

"I swear it," replied Charming.

"You lie!" cried the stranger. And, lo! a box on the ear blinded the prince; the blow was repeated, and the stranger fled.

The king stepped back furious, and sought the hilt of his sword; but men do not go to balls armed as for war; for his sole weapon he found a knot of ribbons. He ran after his enemy, but which way had she fled? Charming lost himself twenty times in the labyrinth; he met none but peaceful dominos walking in couples and scarcely glancing at him as he passed. Breathless, distracted, and desperate, he returned to the ball-room, where he doubted not that the stranger had taken refuge; but how was he to find her?

A brilliant idea crossed the prince's mind; he would order all to unmask, and would doubtless see the gipsy, confounded by the king's presence and betrayed by her own agitation. He instantly leaped on a chair, and exclaimed in a loud voice that caused every one to start:

"Ladies and gentlemen, day is approaching and pleasure is languishing; let us revive mirth by a new caprice. Off with the masks! I set the example; let all who love me follow it."

He threw off his domino, raised his mask, and appeared in the richest and most elegant Spanish costume ever worn by prince. There was a general outcry; all eyes were at first turned toward the king, then toward the black domino with pink rosettes, who retreated as fast as possible with a modesty that was not affected. All unmasked. The ladies gathered round the king, who, it was remarked, had the most violent fancy for the gipsy costume. Young or old, all the gipsies received his homage; he took them by the hand and gazed at them with an air which made all the other masks ready to burst with envy, then made a sign to the orchestra; the dance recommenced, and the prince disappeared.

He hastened again to the elm-walk in search of the traitress who had insulted him, doubtless led by vengeance. His blood boiled in his veins; he wandered at random, suddenly stopping short, looking, listening, and spying in all directions. At the faintest gleam of light through the foliage he sprang forward like a madman, laughing and weeping at the same time as though distracted.

At the turn of an alley he met Rachimburg advancing toward him trembling, with an air of terror.

"Sire," murmured he, in a mysterious voice, "has Your Majesty seen it?"

"What?" asked the king.

"The specter; it passed close by me. I am a lost man; I shall die to-morrow."

"What specter?" said Charming. "What fool's tale are you telling me?"

"A specter—a domino with flashing eyes, that threw me on my knees and boxed my ears twice."

"It is she!" cried the king; "it is she! Why did you let her go?"

"Your Majesty, I had not my pike; but if ever I see her again I will knock her down."

"Do no such thing!" returned the king. "If ever she returns, do not frighten her; follow her and discover her retreat. But where is she? Which way did she go? Lead me; if I find her your fortune is made."

"Sire," said the honest porter, looking at the moon, "if the specter is anywhere, it must be up yonder; I saw it, as plainly as I see Your Majesty, dissolving in mist. But before taking flight it gave me a message for Your Majesty."

"What? Speak quickly!"

"Sire, its words were terrible; I shall never dare repeat them to Your Majesty."

"Speak, I order you."

"Sire, the specter said, in a sepulchral voice, 'Tell the king that if he marries again he is a dead man. The loved one will return.'"

"Here," said the prince, whose eyes shone with a strange luster, "take this purse. Henceforth I attach you to my person; I appoint you my first attendant, counting on your devotion and prudence. Let this affair remain a secret between us."

"That makes two," murmured Rachimburg, as he departed with a firm tread, like a man who neither suffers himself to be cast down by fear or dazzled by good fortune. He was a strong-minded man.

The next morning the court gazette contained the following lines, in the form of a letter without signature, in the unofficial part of the paper:

"A rumor has been spread that the king is thinking of marrying again. The king knows what he owes to his people, and is always ready to sacrifice himself for the happiness of his subjects. But the people of Wild Oats have too much delicacy not to respect a recent affliction. The king's whole thoughts are fixed on his beloved wife; he hopes the consolation from time that is at present refused him."

This note threw the court and town in agitation. The young girls thought the scruples of the prince exaggerated; more than one mother shrugged her shoulders, and said that the king had vulgar prejudices worthy only of the common people; but at night there was strife in every well-ordered household. There was not a wife of any pretensions to aristocratic birth that did not quarrel with her unworthy spouse and force him to admit that there was but one heart capable of love, and but one faithful husband in the whole kingdom, namely, Prince Charming.