illed Maxime de Magny, may, any night,
put the knife to my throat. I appeal to you, and to all the kings of
Europe, my Royal kinsmen. I demand to be set free from this tyrant
and villain, this liar and traitor! I adjure you all, as gentlemen of
honour, to carry these letters to my relatives, and say from whom you
had them!" and with this the unhappy lady began scattering letters about
among the astonished crowd.

'"LET NO MAN STOOP!" cried the Prince, in a voice of thunder. "Madame de
Gleim, you should have watched your patient better. Call the Princess's
physicians: her Highness's brain is affected. Gentlemen, have the
goodness to retire." And the Prince stood on the landing as the
gentlemen went down the stairs, saying fiercely to the guard, "Soldier,
if she moves, strike with your halbert!" on which the man brought the
point of his weapon to the Princess's breast; and the lady, frightened,
shrank back and re-entered her apartments. "Now, Monsieur de
Weissenborn," said the Prince, "pick up all those papers;" and the
Prince went into his own apartments, preceded by his pages, and never
quitted them until he had seen every one of the papers burnt.

'The next day the COURT GAZETTE contained a bulletin signed by the three
physicians, stating that "her Highness the Hereditary Princess laboured
under inflammation of the brain, and had passed a restless and disturbed
night." Similar notices were issued day after day. The services of all
her ladies, except two, were dispensed with. Guards were placed within
and without her doors; her windows were secured, so that escape from
them was impossible: and you know what took place ten days after. The
church-bells were ringing all night, and the prayers of the faithful
asked for a person IN EXTREMIS. A GAZETTE appeared in the morning, edged
with black, and stating that the high and mighty Princess Olivia
Maria Ferdinanda, consort of His Serene Highness Victor Louis Emanuel,
Hereditary Prince of X----, had died in the evening of the 24th of
January 1769.

'But do you know HOW she died, sir? That, too, is a mystery.
Weissenborn, the page, was concerned in this dark tragedy; and the
secret was so dreadful, that never, believe me, till Prince Victor's
death, did I reveal it.

'After the fatal ESCLANDRE which the Princess had made, the Prince
sent for Weissenborn, and binding him by the most solemn adjuration to
secrecy (he only broke it to his wife many years after: indeed, there is