ly. Then had followed such a scene as leaves scars, Hedwig blaming
him and forgiving him, and then breaking down and begging him to flight.
And Nikky, with the din of the Place in his ears, and forbidden to
confront the mob, listening patiently and shaking his head. How little
she knew him; after all, to think that he would even try to save
himself. He had earned death. Let it come.

He was not very clear himself as to how it happened. He had been
tricked. But that was no excuse. And in the midst of her appeal to him
to save himself, he broke in to ask where Olga Loschek was.

Hedwig drew herself up. "I do not know," she said, rather coldly.

"But after all," Nikky muttered, thinking of the lady-in-waiting,
"escape is cut off. The Palace is surrounded."

For a moment Hedwig thought she had won. "It is not cut off," she said.
And spoke of the turret door, and whither it led. All at once he saw it
all. He looked at her with eyes that dilated with excitement, and then
to her anger, shot by her and to the room where the Council waited. He
was just in time to hear old Adelbert's broken speech, and to see him
reel and fall.

At the hospital, Haeckel, the student, stood by his window, and little
by little the veil lifted. His slow blood stirred first. The beating
of drums, the shrieks of the crowd, the fires, all played their part.
Another patient joined him, and together they looked out.

"Bad work!" said the other man.

"Aye!" said Haeckel. Then, speaking very slowly, and with difficulty, "I
do not understand."

"The King is dead." The man watched him. He had been of interest to the
ward.

"Aye," observed, Haeckel, still uncomprehending. And then, "Dead--the
King?"

"Dead. Hear the bell."

"Then--" But he could not at once formulate the thought in his mind.
Speech came hard. He was still in a cloud.

"They say," said the other man, "that the Crown Prince is missing, that
he has been stolen. The people are frenzied."

He went on, dilating on the rumors. Still Haeckel labored. The King! The
Crown Prince! There was something that he was to do. It was just beyond
him, but he could not remember. Then, by accident, the other man touched
the hidden spring of his memory.

"There are some who think that Mettlich--"

"Mettlich!" That was the word. With it the curtain split, as it were,
the cloud was gone. Haeckel put a hand to his head.

A few minutes later, a strange figure dashed out of the hospital. The
night w