parently alarmed by the
sight of the Duke's military cloak, and probably taking him for a sentry
or a garden guard, the child ducked forward and would have made a bolt
past his interrogator. But the Duke, who was amused and half-suspicious
of the boy's errand, caught the figure by his heavy cloak, and dragged
him, a trifle roughly, under the light of the lantern at the opposite
street corner.

'Now he shall tell me where he was going,' Serenissimus said laughing.
The disdainful use of the third person singular seemed to anger the boy,
who stood silent and sullen, with bent head. 'But he _shall_ tell me,'
repeated the Duke, enforcing his command by a rough shake.

'I will not tell you! What concern is it of yours?' the boy replied at
length.

The Duke bent a puzzled look upon his prisoner, whose voice was refined,
and whose German was guiltless of the rude Swabian accent. He did not
speak like a gutter child, and the face which he turned upon Eberhard was
startlingly beautiful. Still the Duke was suspicious. Why should this boy
be slinking to the castle by night? His Highness disliked mysteries, or
thought he did; though, as a matter of fact, he was always attracted by
the mysterious, afraid of it, yet anxious to unravel. He gave the boy
another shake. It was a physical relief to shake some one after the long
hours of anxiety, and the control he had been forced to exercise upon his
longing to shake the Duchess--no new wish on his part, and the only
desire that estimable lady had inspired in his breast for many years. So
the Duke shook his little prisoner again and again.

The boy remained passive; he was breathless, but he met the Duke's
half-laughing, half-angry eyes with a bold look of defiance.

His Highness ceased shaking the child, feeling distinctly ashamed. 'Will
he tell me now?' he asked more gently.

As he said the words, something caught the uncertain light of the
lamps--a little jewel which glittered in the boy's coat. It was exposed
to view by the disarrangement of the cloak caused by the rough handling.

'Lord God!' exclaimed the Duke, catching the boy by the arm once more,
'where in the devil's name did you get that?'

The boy clasped his free hand over the jewel, and proceeded to kick
Eberhard Ludwig's shins with all the violence he could muster. 'A lady
gave it to me, and you shall never have it! I will kill you sooner!' he
cried grandiloquently.

'Be quiet, boy. I am a friend; tell me your erra