arrete's tones, opened the door, and asked what he
desired.

"It was his mother," thought the old lady as he threw clothes, linen
and many a trifle on the floor. "It was his mother. Perhaps he wants her
rosary or prayer book. He is her son! They looked like a happy couple
when they were together. A wild soldier, but he isn't a wicked man yet."

While he searched she held the light for him, shaking her head over the
disorder among the articles where he rummaged.

Ulrich had now reached the bottom of the chest. Here he found a valuable
necklace, booty which Zorrillo had given his companion for use in case
of need. This should be Ruth'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