ll me what has ailed
the Duke?' Her voice shook a little, but the man had spoken so airily
that she could not believe the Duke's illness had been serious.

'Ah, Excellency! you were unaware of the sad circumstances? Yes, truly, a
long and painful malady; lung trouble it was.'

'It is over then? quite passed? I rejoice,' she returned.

'Yes, Excellency; it ended a week ago. His Highness died in his sleep.'

She looked at him for a full moment as one deaf, who, knowing some one
has spoken some word, hears not and wonders pitifully. The notary had
turned away and busied himself with writings and documents on the table.
Already his thoughts were rehearsing a wonderful oration he would speak,
a masterpiece of pleading. What a great man he was, to be sure! Of
course, he would move to Stuttgart. His ambition soared--surely a very
great lawyer.

A rustle of silken garments in the room behind him, and two hands fell on
his shoulders: hands of iron they seemed.

'Say that again; you do not know what you have said.' It was a strange
voice which spoke: a voice so hoarse, so toneless, that the fat little
man trembled, recalling in a flash the stories of witches' transformation
into ravening wolves or terrible demons. He wriggled round. The Graevenitz
stood over him, her hands upon his shoulders, her eyes like two flames
scanning his face.

'Say what, Excellency? I do not know----' The trivial fact of the Duke's
death and of this woman's agony had been lost for him in his dream of his
own judicial splendour.

'What did you say of his Highness? Tell me, or I will kill you,' she
returned in the same fearful voice.

'I said what all the world knows: that the Duke Eberhard Ludwig died from
lung trouble, on the 31st of October--a week ago,'--he answered angrily,
struggling to remove those gripping hands from his shoulders.

'It is a lie! Another lie to torture me. Go, you lying, cruel devil--the
Duke shall punish you.'

She was mad for the moment; sense, dignity, all was swept away in her
terrified fury. She pushed the man from the room, her murderous hands
gripping and bruising his shoulders with demoniacal force.

'Go, liar!' she cried, as she thrust the little man through the door.

She stood silent and motionless. 'He said that all the world knew,' she
whispered hoarsely.

She flung herself face downwards on the stone floor of the prison-room,
moaning and biting her hands like one possessed of a devil.

*