hter, a loved although respected daughter; and I
must say that I cannot conceal from you that this is morally most
questionable. And, O dear me, we have a dead body."

She had watched him closely; hope fell to contempt; she drew away her
skirts from his weakness, and, in the act, her own strength returned to
her.

"See if he be dead," she said; not one word of explanation or defence;
she had scorned to justify herself before so poor a creature: "See if he
be dead" was all.

With the greatest compunction, the Chancellor drew near; and as he did
so the wounded Baron rolled his eyes.

"He lives," cried the old courtier, turning effusively to Seraphina.
"Madam, he still lives."

"Help him, then," returned the Princess, standing fixed. "Bind up his
wound."

"Madam, I have no means," protested the Chancellor.

"Can you not take your handkerchief, your neckcloth, anything?" she
cried; and at the same moment, from her light muslin gown she rent off a
flounce and tossed it on the floor. "Take that," she said, and for the
first time directly faced Greisengesang.

But the Chancellor held up his hands and turned away his head in agony.
The grasp of the falling Baron had torn down the dainty fabric of the
bodice; and--"O Highness!" cried Greisengesang, appalled, "the terrible
disorder of your toilette!"

"Take up that flounce," she said; "the man may die."

Greisengesang turned in a flutter to the Baron, and attempted some
innocent and bungling measures. "He still breathes," he kept saying.
"All is not yet over; he is not yet gone."

"And now," said she, "if that is all you can do, begone and get some
porters; he must instantly go home."

"Madam," cried the Chancellor, "if this most melancholy sight was seen
in town--O dear, the state would fall!" he piped.

"There is a litter in the palace," she replied. "It is your part to see
him safe. I lay commands upon you. On your life it stands."

"I see it, dear Highness," he jerked. "Clearly I see it. But how? what
men? The Prince's servants--yes. They had a personal affection. They
will be true, if any."

"O, not them!" she cried. "Take Sabra, my own man."

"Sabra! The grand-mason?" returned the Chancellor, aghast. "If he but
saw this, he would sound the tocsin--we should all be butchered."

She measured the depth of her abasement steadily. "Take whom you must,"
she said, "and bring the litter here."

Once she was alone she ran to the Baron, and with a sickening hea