Church could
not countenance a religious preacher who thus instigated the people to
revolutionary acts. The better sort of Pietists--sober burghers, for the
most part--deserted their idol, and his congregations were now chiefly
composed of the worst characters of the town. It certainly was
unfortunate that the Graevenitz had been unable to seek the shelter of
Neuhaus, yet Zollern and Stafforth reflected there could be little actual
danger if she remained at the Jaegerhaus, only taking the air in the
walled-in Lustgarten; but they urged her not to venture out of this
shelter for a few weeks, after the expiration of which time they argued
the popular excitement would have died out, or if it had not, they would
make arrangements for her residence in some safe place across the
frontier of Switzerland. Neuhaus they considered to be too near to
Tuebingen, where, they heard, there was much hostility against Wilhelmine.

Meanwhile each day the heat became more intense, and the Favourite grew
more impatient of being forbidden to drive out. One evening, as she sat
disconsolately in her salon, a faint, fresh breeze floated in through the
open window. It was fragrant and delightful after the long, stifling
hours, and it seemed to her like an invitation from the outer world, that
world of tree and flower for which she yearned. How she longed to drive
away out of the reeking, low-lying town, and wander in the cool Red Wood!
Still the Lustgarten was a resource, and its quaint sixteenth- and
seventeenth-century embellishments delighted her. She rose, and taking a
lace mantilla, arranged it round her head. She passed out of the small
door at the back of the Jaegerhaus, and strolled slowly along in the
direction of the grotto. As she passed the gates leading from the garden
to the high-road, she called to the sentry, telling him that should
Monseigneur de Zollern seek her before she returned, he should be
informed that she had gone to the Duke Christopher's Grotto. At first the
soldier pretended not to hear, and the Graevenitz was obliged to approach
him and give her message.

She asked, angrily, if he was deaf, and was informed in the usual peasant
idiom that he 'could hear as well as another.'

'Well, give my message to any one who inquires for me,' she said
haughtily, and walked on.

The man frowned evilly at her, and she recollected that the maid Maria,
once when she had accompanied her mistress on a stroll in the Lustgarten,
an