ss," was the shrewd rejoinder. "I am an old
man, and frankness in old age is pardonable. There are numbers of
disinterested men in the world, but unfortunately they happen to be
dead. O, I do not blame you; there is human nature in most of us. But
the days of Richelieus and Mazarins are past. The Church is simply the
church, and is no longer the power behind the throne. I have served the
house of Auersperg for fifty years, that is to say, since I was sixteen;
I had hoped to die in the service. Perhaps my own reason for distrusting
you has not been disinterested."

"Perhaps not."

"And as I now stand I shall die neither in the service of the house of
Auersperg nor of Osia. It is not the princess; it is the lonely girl."

"I need not tell you," said the prelate quietly, "that I am in Bleiberg
only for that purpose. And since we are together, I will tell you
this: Madame the duchess will never sit upon this throne. To-day I am
practically regent, with full powers from his Majesty. I have summoned
von Wallenstein and Mollendorf for a purpose which I shall make known to
you." He held up two documents, and gently waving them: "These contain
the dismissal of both gentlemen, together with my reasons. There were
three; one I shall now destroy because it has suddenly become void." He
tore it up, turned, and flung the pieces into the grate.

The Marshal glanced instinctively at his shoulder straps, and saw that
they had come very near to oblivion.

"There is nothing more, Marshal," went on the prelate. "What I had to
say to you has slipped my mind. Under the change of circumstances, it
might embarrass you to meet von Wallenstein and Mollendorf. You have
spoken frankly, and in justice to you I will return in kind. Yes, in the
old days I was ambitious; but God has punished me through those I love.
I shall leave to you the selection of a new Colonel of the cuirassiers."

"What! and Beauvais, too?" exclaimed the Marshal.

"Yes. My plans require it. I have formed a new cabinet, which will meet
to-night at eight. I shall expect you to be present."

The two old men rose. Suddenly, a kindly smile broke through the
austereness of the prelate's countenance, and he thrust out his hand;
the old soldier met it.

"Providence always watches over the innocent," said the prelate, "else
we would have been still at war. Good morning."

The Marshal returned home, thoughtful and taciturn. What would be the
end?

Ten minutes after the Mars