h's. Close beside it lay a small package, tied
with rose-pink ribbon, containing a tiny infant's shirt, a gay doll, and
a slender gold circlet; her wedding-ring! The date showed that it had
been given to her by his father, and the shirt and doll were mementos of
him, her darling--of himself.

He gazed at them, changing them from one hand to the other, till suddenly
his heart overflowed, and without heeding Frau Geel, who was watching
him, he wept softly, exclaiming: "Mother, dear mother!"

A light hand touched his shoulder, and a woman's kind voice said: "Poor
fellow, poor fellow! Yes, she was a dear little thing, and a mother, a
mother--that is enough!"

The Eletto nodded assent with tearful eyes, and when she again gently
repeated in a tone of sincere sympathy, her "poor fellow!" it sounded
sweeter, than the loudest homage that had ever been offered to his fame
and power.

CHAPTER XXIX.

The next morning while Ulrich was packing his luggage, assisted by his
servant, the sound of drums and fifes, bursts of military music and loud
cheers were heard in the street, and going to the window, he saw the
whole body of mutineers drawn up in the best order.

The companies stood in close ranks before his house, impetuous shouts and
bursts of music made the windows rattle, and now the officers pressed
into his room, holding out their swords, vowing fealty unto death, and
entreating him to remain their commander.

He now perceived, that power cannot be thrown aside like a worthless
thing. His tortured heart was stirred with deep emotion, and the drooping
wings of ambition unfolded with fresh energy. He reproached, raged, but
yielded; and when Ortis on his knees, offered him the commander's baton,
he accepted it.

Ulrich was again Eletto, but this need not prevent his seeing his father
and Ruth once more, so he declared that he would retain his office, but
should be obliged to ride to Antwerp that day, secretly inform the
officers of the conspiracy against the city, and the necessity of
negotiating with the commandant, that their share of the rich prize might
not be lost.

What many had suspected and hoped was now to become reality. Their Eletto
was no idle man! When Navarrete appeared at noon in front of the troops
with his own work, the standard, in his hand, he was received with shouts
of joy, and no one murmured, though many recognized in the Madonna's
countenance the features of the murdered sibyl.

Two days