A low bow, a sarcastic smile,--my executioner was gone. And I broke some
priceless bric-a-brac, stamped my foot on the pearl necklace Frederick
Augustus had given me, tore three or four lace handkerchiefs and stuffed
the rags in my mouth to prevent me from crying aloud.

* * * * *

PILLNITZ, _May 27, 1901_.

Lucretia finished the Tisch's report. The good soul hadn't had the
courage to tell me before, but now that the Grand Mistress had spoken,
considerations of delicacy no longer stood in the way.

What a judge of character I am, to be sure: Henry, whom I raised from
obscurity, whom I befriended, loved, advanced, rescued from the hands of
usurers--a traitor, pshaw, worse,--I cannot write down the word, but
it's in my mind.

Henry, who hadn't the time to take leave from me, devoted an hour to the
Tisch before he went away with the Vitzthums.

He told her all and gave her his word of honor--the honor of a man who
accepted money from the woman weak enough to love him--that, first, he
would never see me again of his own accord and would reject both my
entreaties and commands; secondly, that he would petition to be
transferred to a distant garrison to be out of the path of temptation;
thirdly, that he would burn my letters.

The Tisch, on her part, promised to tell the King only half the
truth--not for my sake, of course, but to shield her dear, seduced young
relative.

CHAPTER LIV

FORCED TO DO PENANCE LIKE A TRAPPIST MONK

"By the King's orders"--I submit for the sake of my children--Must
fast as well as pray--In delicate health, I insist upon returning to
Dresden--Bernhardt, to avoid being maltreated by King, threatens him
with his sword--The King's awful wrath--Bernhardt prisoner in
Nossen--I escape, temporarily, protracted _ennui_.

PILLNITZ, _May 28, 1901_.

Though I am in delicate health, the King, having recovered from his
illness, commanded me to do penance,--almost public penance.

Fast and pray, pray and fast is the order of the day for the next two
weeks.

I arise every morning at five. At six a closed carriage takes me to a
distant nunnery of the Ursulines, a good hour's travel. I am forced to
attend mass, which also lasts an hour. Then a half-hour's sermon,
dealing with fire and brimstone, hell and damnation.

When that's over the Mother Superior kindly asks me to her cell and
lectures me for an hour on the duties of a wife an