in this hour of her defeat, and even Roeder stood silent and abashed
before her.

'Well, Monsieur le Baron de Roeder,' she said, 'so you have defied me
again? See here, I curse you; you have called me a witch, and you are
cursed by me. It will not bring you happiness.'

'It is my duty, Madame,' he replied steadily. Her face changed.

'You are right, man; I grow petty in my old age. See, I forgive you.
Alas! my hour has struck.' She held out her hands towards him. 'Do not
bind my wrists, I will come. It is useless to fight Fate. Ah, Roeder!
Roeder! whither are you dragging me?' Her potent charm was alive in every
word. After all, it was a greater weapon than curses; she knew that, and
used it now.

'I thank your Excellency for aiding me in my terrible task,' said Roeder
huskily. 'Is there anything in which I may serve you before we start?'

'No, Monsieur, I am ready; only permit my maid Maria to accompany me, and
to bring such things as are necessary for my comfort,' she said quietly.

'It is against his Highness's orders, Excellency,' he began; but she
smiled at him, la grande charmeuse, and as usual she conquered.

* * * * *

Sadly the cortege left Freudenthal. Only once did the Graevenitz break
down. As she passed the orchard gate where Eberhard Ludwig had so often
stood on summer evenings calling 'Philomele beloved,' she bent her head,
and, sobbing bitterly, murmured: 'Change is Death.'

* * * * *

The fortress of Hohenasperg stands about half a league from Ludwigsburg.
In the midst of rich orchards this gaunt rock rises abruptly from the
plain like some huge fist of a heathen god, threatening the peace of the
fruitful land with sombre menace. From heathen days it was named Asperg,
after the Aasen or Germanic gods, whose sacred mountain it was. Round
this stronghold men fought for centuries: naked barbarians against Roman
legions; rebellious knights of old against Imperial troops; Protestant
generals against the armies of the Holy Roman Empire; later,
Wirtembergers against the invading Frenchmen. Asperg, impregnable in war
time, was a prison in times of peace; from its dark walls and giant
ramparts escape was impossible for the prisoner. The very name of Asperg
was a terror, its shape was awe-inspiring. And hither they brought
Wilhelmine von Graevenitz on that smiling October afternoon. Slowly her
coach rumbled up to the grim gate over which a si