mock court
continued as before, sometimes at Urach, sometimes at Tuebingen or
Wildbad. Stuttgart was deserted, save for the mournful presence of the
unhappy Duchess.

The Countess of Urach's circle widened considerably, constantly enlarged
by inquisitive travellers, and it was marvellous how many of these
persons lingered and took root in the easy, evil soil of this unhallowed,
unlawful court. The very servants were for the most part of doubtful
character, and it is remarkable how successfully the Graevenitz ruled her
strangely composed household. She had the power to win hearts when she
chose, and she did choose where her domestics were concerned. Her method
was based on the human point of view. 'If I take this rascal into my
service and treat him well, he will respond by gratitude. At least, he
will be bound to me and to my interests. Should he betray me I can punish
him; but he is too disreputable for any one else to defend, therefore he
is mine, my creature.' These theories she expounded to Madame de Ruth,
never to Serenissimus. He, poor deluded one, thought his mistress a very
charitable lady, and loved her the more for her kindness to sinners.
Among this motley crew of her choosing was an Italian of the name of
Ferrari, who had come to Tuebingen with a troupe of strolling actors.

In Tuebingen the man had fallen ill, and Wilhelmine, hearing through the
maid Maria of the Italian's misery, caused him to be nursed back to life.
Then, when the grateful rascal came to thank his benefactress, she took
him into her service. The man proved himself useful; he was quick and
intelligent, and conceived a dog-like affection for the Graevenitz, who
rewarded him by employing him in any secret message she desired to be
conveyed. He it was who procured for her the various ingredients she used
in her magic brewings. He who spied upon the Duchess, for Wilhelmine had
a morbid curiosity to know each action of the woman she injured. The
people whispered that Ferrari instructed the Graevenitz in the mysterious
and terrible secrets of Italian poisons. This gossip reached the ears of
Johanna Elizabetha and she trembled, fearing poison in all she ate, in
all she touched, in the petals of the roses of the castle garden, in the
dust which lay on the road.

An ugly story leaked out. The Duchess's head cook, Glaser by name,
recounted how Ferrari had visited him and offered him a purse of gold and
a little phial which contained a greyish whit