ed her to such
extravagance. And I told her what the Prince had said to me half-way
through his pinch of snuff.

"'Sire,' said he, 'to become free--what is it? It is to change your
master.'"

The lady let her arms fall to her side, reflected a moment, smiled, and
said:

"The Prince was no fool, sire."

As the result of this day that I have described, I had become free. I
had changed my master.

We did not, however, pay any more visits to the Countess.

CHAPTER III.

SOME SECRET OPINIONS.

Even such results as might be looked for on Prince von Hammerfeldt's
theory of the meaning of freedom were in my case arrested and postponed
by a very serious illness which attacked me on the threshold of my
eleventh year. We had gone to Schloss Artenberg, according to our custom
in the summer; it was holiday-time; Krak was away, the talked-of tutor
had not arrived. The immediate fruit of this temporary emancipation was
that I got my feet very wet with dabbling about the river, and, being
under no sterner control than Victoria's, lingered long in this
condition. Next day I was kept in bed, and Victoria was in sore
disgrace. To be brief, the mischief attacked my lungs. Soon I was
seriously ill; a number of grave, black-coated gentlemen came and went
about the bed on which I lay for several weeks. Of this time I have many
curious impressions; most of them centre round my mother. She slept in
my room, and I believe hardly ever left me. I used to wake from uneasy
sleep and look across to her bed; always in a few moments she also
awoke, came and gave me what I needed or asked for, and then would throw
a dressing-gown round her and walk softly to and fro on bare feet, with
her long fair hair hanging about her shoulders. Her face looked
different in those days; yet it was not soft as I have seen mothers'
faces when their sons lay sick or dead, but rather excited, urgent,
defiant; the lips were set close, and the eyes gleamed. She did not
supplicate God, she fought fate, or, if God and fate be one, then it was
God whom she fought; and her battle was untiring. I knew from her face
that I might die, but, so far as I can recall my mood, I was more
curious about the effect of such an event on her and on Victoria than
concerning its import to myself. I asked her once what would happen if I
died; would Victoria be queen? She forbade me to ask the question, but I
pressed it, and she answered hastily, "Yes, yes, but you won't die,