who love Austria may not serve other gods--or
goddesses. You have considered these things, and however difficult the
task--have chosen?"

"It has been bitter, Sire. I can never go back to Konopisht."

"I am sorry. A terrible lesson awaits Sophie Chotek. I have been sorely
tried. As for the Archduke Franz--a reckoning--a reckoning----"

She saw the old man pause and start a pace back from the window, toward
which he stared, wide-eyed and immovable. There, upon the sill of the
window, a black bird had suddenly appeared and hopped awkwardly to and
fro. It seemed perfectly at home, and not in the least frightened,
peering into the room with its head cocked upon one side, a baleful
purplish glitter in its eye.

In a flash Marishka remembered the legend which connects every
misfortune of the House of Habsburg with the appearance of this bird of
ill omen: the flight of ravens at Olmuetz, the raven of the ill-fated
Maximilian at Miramar, the raven of the Archduchess Maria Christina on
the eve of her departure for her future kingdom of Spain, the raven
which came to the Empress Elizabeth on the afternoon before the day of
her assassination,--all these incidents so closely connected with the
royal figure before her, passed quickly across her mind as they must
have crossed that of the Emperor. He sank into his chair and she
followed his gaze through the window again. The somber bird had gone.

Marishka stood in silence, not daring to move, aware of the terrible
undercurrent of thought which must be racking the mind of her sovereign,
this man of sorrows, who stood upon the brink of the grave and peace,
and yet who must still live and suffer until the curse of the Countess
Karolyi should be utterly fulfilled.

"Sire," she muttered after a moment, "can I----"

He stirred, and raised a pallid face to hers. It was quite composed now,
but marked with a sadness inexpressible.

"You may leave me now, child. I am a little tired. If you will touch the
bell upon the table----"

He paused as she did so, and a servant entered.

"You will tell Prince Montenuovo that the audience is concluded," he
said.

Marishka fell upon her knees before him, and touched his fingers to her
lips.

"May God bless Your Majesty," she murmured half-hysterically, scarcely
knowing what she said, "and give you peace."

She was aware of his smile as she arose.

"Go, Countess," he said, "you have done well. Keep this secret at
whatever the cost to you