e to revolt.

Now he waited for the King's death. Waited numbly. For, with the tolling
of St. Stefan's bell would rise the cry for the new King.

And there was no King.

In the little room where the Sisters kept their medicines, so useless
now, Hedwig knelt at the Prie-dieu and prayed.

She tried to pray for her grandfather's soul, but she could not. Her one
cry was for Otto, that he be saved and brought back. In the study she
had found the burntwood frame, and she held it hugged close to her with
its broken-backed "F," its tottering "W," and wavering "O", with its fat
Cupids in sashes, and the places where an over-earnest small hand had
slipped.

Hilda stood by the stand, and fingered the bottles. Her nose was swollen
with crying, but she was stealthily removing corks and sniffing at the
contents of the bottles with the automatic curiosity of the young.

The King roused again. "Mettlich?" he asked.

The elder Sister tiptoed to the door and opened it. The Council turned,
dread on their faces. She placed a hand on the Chancellor's shoulder.

"His Majesty has asked for you."

When he looked up, dazed, she bent down and took his hand.

"Courage!" she said quietly.

The Chancellor stood a second inside the door. Then he went to the
side of the bed, and knelt, his lips to the cold, white hand on the
counterpane.

"Sire!" he choked. "It is I--Mettlich."

The King looked at him, and placed his hand on the bowed gray head. Then
his eyes turned to Annunciata and rested there. It was as if he saw her,
not as the embittered woman of late years, but as the child of the woman
he had loved.

"A good friend, and a good daughter," he said clearly. "Few men die so
fortunate, and fewer sovereigns." His hand moved from Mettlich's head,
and rested on the photograph.

The elder Sister leaned forward and touched his wrist. "Doctor!" she
said sharply.

Doctor Wiederman came first, the others following. They grouped around
the bed. Then the oldest of them, who had brought Annunciata into the
world, touched her on the shoulder.

"Madame!" he said. "Madame, I--His Majesty has passed away."

Mettlich staggered to his feet, and took a long look at the face of his
old sovereign and king.

In the mean time, things had been happening in the room where the
Council waited. The Council, free of the restraint of the Chancellor's
presence, had fallen into low-voiced consultation. What was to be done?
They knew already the rumors o