ntinued. "I had toiled in
honest ways to obtain support for my family and myself. I had earnestly
endeavored to make my knowledge profitable--humble enough to be willing to
teach for the lowest price, to offer my services everywhere. But I could
get no employment; people wanted no teacher of music; everywhere I was
pitilessly turned away. During the mournful years of war which had closed
in upon us, no one wanted to spend his money for a useless art, which
perhaps could be used only for dirges. A music-teacher was the most
unnecessary and useless of mortals, and the music-teacher felt this, and
was ready to become wood-cutter, laborer, street-sweeper, anything to
procure food for his sick wife, his only child, to brighten their
impoverished, sorrowful lives with a ray of comfort. But it was all in
vain; the poor music-teacher found employment nowhere; he might have
starved in the midst of the great city, surrounded by wealthy people who,
with arrogant bearing, daily drove in brilliant equipages past him and his
misery. For his part, he would gladly have died, for what value could his
wretched, pitiful life have to him! But he had a daughter, the only
creature whom he loved; she was his happiness, his hope, and his joy. His
daughter must not starve; must not suffer from the wretched needs of
existence; must not crawl in the dust, while others, less beautiful, less
good, less gifted, enjoyed life in luxury and splendor. Chance betrayed an
important secret to the poor musician. He knew that on the one side a large
sum would be paid for his silence, on the other for his speech. He went and
sold himself! He went to warn some, to save others if it were possible."

"I know," she said, panting for breath. "You are speaking of the
assassination of the ambassadors in Rastadt."

"Yes, Count Lehrbach's valet, in a drunken spree, betrayed his master's
secret, so I learned the fine business, and could warn the envoys, could
warn Lehrbach to take stronger precautions. It was my first trial, and it
was well paid."

"The poor envoys paid for it with their lives," she cried, shuddering.

"That was their own fault. Why didn't they listen to my warning? Why didn't
they delay their departure until the following morning? I knew that in the
evening a whole detachment of Hussars was stationed on the highway which
they must pass. I told them so, and warned them. But they did not believe
me; they were reckless enough to set out, and I only suc