r
part of the work. She had already a plan for Miss Braithwaite. But Nikky
Larisch?

Over that problem, during the long night hours, Olga Loschek worked. It
would be possible to overcome Nikky, of course. There would be four
men, with the sentries, against him. But that would mean struggle and an
alarm. It was the plan to achieve the abduction quietly, so quietly that
for perhaps an hour--they hoped for an hour--there would be no alarm.
Some time they must have, enough to make the long journey through the
underground passage. Otherwise the opening at the gate would be closed,
and the party caught like rats in a hole.

The necessity for planning served one purpose, at least. It kept her
from thinking. Possibly it saved her reason, for there were times during
that last night when Olga Loschek was not far from madness. At dawn,
long after Hedwig had forgotten her unhappiness in sleep, the Countess
went wearily to bed. She had dismissed Minna hours before, and as she
stood before her mirror, loosening her heavy hair, she saw that all that
was of youth and loveliness in her had died in the night. A determined,
scornful, and hard-eyed woman, she went drearily to bed.

During the early afternoon the Chancellor visited the Crown Prince.
Waiting and watching had made inroads on him, too, but he assumed a sort
of heavy jocularity for the boy's benefit.

"No lessons, eh?" he said. "Then there have been no paper balls for the
tutors' eyes, eh?"

"I never did that but once, sir," said Prince Ferdinand William Otto
gravely.

"So! Once only!"

"And I did that because he was always looking at Hedwig's picture."

The Chancellor eyed the picture. "I should be the last to condemn him
for that," he said, and glanced at Nikky.

"We must get the lad out somewhere for some air," he observed. "It is
not good to keep him shut up like this." He turned to the Crown Prince.
"In a day or so," he said, "we shall all go to the summer palace. You
would like that, eh?"

"Will my grandfather be able to go?"

The Chancellor sighed. "Yes," he said, "I--he will go to the country
also. He has loved it very dearly."

He went, shortly after three o'clock. And, because he was restless and
uneasy, he made a round of the Palace, and of the guards. Before he
returned to his vigil outside the King's bedroom, he stood for a moment
by a window and looked out. Evidently rumors of the King's condition had
crept out, in spite of their caution. The Place