ready; M. le Comte de Graevenitz,
Madame la Comtesse, M. de Stafforth, may I present to you Herr Pfahler,
Pastor of the Lutheran Church at Aalendorf?'

The man bowed deeply to each in turn. Marie Graevenitz scarcely
acknowledged his salute for fear of endangering her Catholic soul by
intercourse with a Protestant pastor.

'Now, Herr Pastor, are those arrangements complete? See here, I have
draped you an altar. Oh! unnecessary, you say, for a Lutheran marriage? I
regret, enfin--so much prettier, hein? Well, you can stand before it to
marry our friends, it will not affect you! Then, here are two cushions
for them to kneel on; a Bible, pen, and paper for the legal documents.
Yes, is that all? Well, I may now call our friends,' and she rustled out
of the room.

A constrained silence fell on the four occupants of the apartment. The
Pastor who had followed after Madame de Ruth to don his black 'talar,'
the clerical gown of the Lutheran divine, returned and took up his
position before the altar table. He busied himself turning over the
leaves of the Bible, and the faded flower fluttered out and fell on to
one of the cushions prepared for the bride and bridegroom. The door
opened and Eberhard Ludwig, Duke of Wirtemberg, entered the room. He
bowed gravely to the assembled company, then moved forward and stood
facing Pfahler before the improvised altar. The guests had risen at his
Highness's entry. The silence was intense. Of a sudden a huge black form
bounded through the window. Marie Graevenitz screamed shrilly, and the
Herr Pastor started violently.

'It is only my dog, Madame,' said his Highness. 'He has found me after
all. I left him locked up in my sleeping-room. Here, Melac, lie down!
quiet! good dog!' he called, and the wolf-hound obediently stretched
himself beside the Duke.

'I thought it was the devil,' Marie Graevenitz whimpered.

'The devil, Madame, come to attend these espousals,' remarked Stafforth
with a sneer.

'Silence, Monsieur,' said his Highness haughtily; and once more a
brooding stillness fell on the company, broken only by Melac's heavy
breathing, and the flutter of the Bible's pages between the Pastor's
nervous fingers. Would the bride never come? this waiting was
intolerable. Eberhard Ludwig stood stern and silent, his hand resting on
his rapier's hilt. At length there came the swish of silken garments
rasping over the rough wooden boards of the corridor floor. Once more the
door was flung open,