rhard Ludwig caught her hand, and his own trembled a little. 'What an
extraordinary thing! Did you put a spell upon Melac? I have never seen
him thus cowed! Beloved, I believe I owe my life to you this morning,' he
said.

Wilhelmine passed her hand across her eyes. 'So may all your enemies be
defeated!' she said, laughing.

'Could you make me tremble like that with your wonderful eyes?' he asked.
He was fascinated, yet there was something terrible to him in this
woman's power.

'Mon Prince, you are my master always,' she returned; and the subtle
flattery of being the avowed ruler of so potent a being delighted him,
as it pleases all men, who are obviously slaves, to be called master by
the woman who controls them.

'Alas! but I am not the master of destiny,' he said sadly, 'and I come
this morning to prove it. Wilhelmine, beloved, I must return to the army.
We have information that Villars is to invade Wirtemberg once more, and I
must be with the forces.'

'Is our happiness over then?' she queried.

'Ah! no, no, beloved of my life! You will wait for me here, I shall
return in a few months.'

'Months! Months of Stuttgart without you? Ah! Eberhard, you cannot ask
it!' She pleaded long, but for once the Duke was obdurate: he must go, he
said; honour demanded it.

On the day fixed for Eberhard Ludwig's departure there was much stir in
Stuttgart, and the people crowded the streets to show honour to their
Duke, whose popularity was suddenly reawakened by his reassumption of the
role of military hero. Johanna Elizabetha was to accompany the Duke out
of the town; once again she was to be permitted to play her part as wife
and Duchess. Forstner had achieved this, with the help of Osiander, who
was to pronounce a blessing on the Duke and his body-guard on the
market-place ere they set forth. The Prelate declared he would refuse his
benediction were the Duchess not accorded her fitting place in the
ceremony. Wilhelmine was enraged. It is hard for a woman to see another
recognised as the beloved's wife, besides she regarded this as a slight
to herself. It was terrible to her, and she stormed and raged and
reproached the Duke, demanding what was to be her place in the ceremony.
Then, in tears, she caressed him.

Of course, the Duke blamed Johanna Elizabetha for this scene. When do we
ever blame the right person for the disagreeable happenings of our lives?

At length Serenissimus tore himself away from his mistress, carr