ishment. She was no longer
permitted to walk on the ramparts. She grew really ill after this. For
many days she lay upon the rude pallet, which was called bed at Urach,
and, turning her face to the wall, refused to take nourishment. Maria, in
an agony of fear, sought the governor and told him her Excellency lay
dying.

'A very curious coincidence,' said the governor musingly.

'How, sir? I do not understand,' inquired Maria.

'It is said that his Highness lies dying also; there can be no harm in
telling you that,' replied the cautious official. Maria, burdened with
her sorrowful secret, returned to watch over her beloved mistress. For
weeks the Graevenitz pined in hopeless sadness and physical illness, then
her old spirit returned, and she faced life again. Maria had not told her
that Serenissimus was sick unto death, dead perhaps by this time; she
knew not, for none at Hohen-Urach would answer the witch's serving-maid.

Spring came, and the Graevenitz petitioned the prison governor to permit
her to walk on the ramparts as before. Unwillingly the man acceded to her
request, and once more she was at liberty to breathe the air of heaven,
and to feast her eyes upon the majestic view of the hill-country. But
there was pain for her, even in this her one enjoyment, for from the
rampart she looked down upon that little hill-town of Urach which had
seen her in the heyday of her youth and love. She could even see the
windows of the Golden Hall where she had held high revel on that summer
night so long ago, and whence she had fled before the Emperor's stern
decree. Remembrance was pain, and yet her thoughts lingering in the past
brought her echoes of joy and laughter. What matter if the echo was
softened by a sigh?

At length, in August, an attorney waited upon her in her prison. He was
charged to defend her in her trial, he said. A semblance of justice was
to be meted out to her; she should benefit by the pleadings of a man of
law. This personage was a village notary, and all unfitted by knowledge
or experience to battle against the skilled prosecutors. And yet she was
grateful; for, at least, she would thus learn of what she was accused.
The list of her crimes was appalling. Firstly: treason. Secondly:
purloining of lands and monies. Thirdly: witchcraft and black magic.
Fourthly: bigamous intent. Fifthly: attempted murder. It is
characteristic of the age that the fifth indictment should not have been
the first.

Her trea