off her feet.

It was in Berlin that, in the autumn of 1843, long delayed Fortune
smiled on her. A novelty being wanted, she secured an engagement to
dance at a fete organised by Frederick William IV in honour of his
son-in-law, the Czar Nicholas, and a posse of Grand Dukes then
visiting Potsdam. The autocrat of all the Russias expressed himself as
highly pleased with the newcomer's efforts. The Berliners followed
suit. Lola was "made"; and every night for a month on end she was
booked up to dance somewhere.

While in the German capital, she is said to have had an encounter with
the arm of the law. The story is that, mounted on a blood horse, she
attended a review held in honour of the King and the Czar; and her
steed, being somewhat mettlesome, carried her at full tilt across the
parade ground and into the midst of the royal party assembled at the
saluting-point.

When an indignant policeman, bellowing _Verboten!_ at the top of his
voice, rushed up and clung to the bridle, he received for his pains a
vigorous cut from her whip. The next morning a summons was delivered
to the daring Amazon, ordering her to appear before a magistrate and
answer a charge of "insulting the uniform." Thereupon, Lola, feeling
that the general atmosphere was unfavourable, packed her trunks. She
managed to get away just in time, as a warrant for her arrest was
actually being made out. But if she did not leave Berlin with all the
honours of war, it is at any rate recorded that "she left this city of
pigs with a high head and a snapping of her fan."

The Odyssey continued. The next place where she halted was Dresden.
There the pilgrim swam into the orbit of Franz Liszt, who happened to
be giving a series of recitals. Born in 1811--the "year of the
Comet"--he was at the height of his powers when Lola Montez flashed
across his path. During an early visit to England, as a "boy prodigy,"
he had gathered considerable laurels. Windsor Castle had smiled upon
him, and he had played to George IV and to Queen Victoria. The chance
encounter with Lola was a fateful one for both of them. But, as it
happened, the virtuoso rather welcomed the prospect of a fresh
intrigue just then. Wearied of the romanticism of the phalanx of
feminine admirers, who clustered about him like bees, he found this
one, with her beauty and vivacious charm, to have a special appeal for
him. He responded to it avidly. The two became inseparable.

One evening, while _Rienzi_ was