ll
lie, if you shall please to wish once more to imprison him, return
willingly to his cage? I believe you would have to entice him a long
time--to whisper soft, loving, flattering words, and place in the cage
the rarest dainties before you could induce him to yield up his golden
freedom, and to receive you once more as his lord and master. But if you
seek to arrest him with railing and threats--with wise and grave essays
on duty and constancy--he will swing himself on the lofty branch of a
tree, so high that you cannot follow, and whistle at you!"

"You are right, I believe," said Du Trouffle, thoughtfully. "I see
to-day a new talent in you, Louise; you have become a philosopher."

"Yes, and I thirst to bring my wisdom to bear against a man," said
Louise, laughingly. "I hope you will profit by it! Perhaps it may
promote your happiness, and enable you to recapture your bird. You
will not at least make shipwreck on the breakers against which the good
prince dashed his head to-day: he was wounded and bleeding, and will
carry the mark upon his brow as long as he lives."

"What has he done which justifies so melancholy a prognostication?"

"What has he done? He returned to his wife, not as a lover but as
a husband; he did not kiss her hand tremblingly and humbly and
timidly--seek to read in her glance if she were inclined to favor him;
he advanced with the assurance of a conquering hero, and before the
whole world he gave her a loud, ringing kiss, which resounded like the
trump of victory. The good prince thought that because the outside
war was at an end and you had made peace with your enemies, all other
strifes and difficulties had ceased, and you had all entered upon an
epoch of everlasting happiness; that, by the sides of your fond and
faithful wives, you had nothing to do but smoke the calumet of peace.
But he made a great and dangerous mistake, and he will suffer for it. I
tell you, friend, the war which you have just closed was less difficult,
less alarming than the strife which will now be carried on in your
families. The wicked foe has abandoned the battle-field to you, but he
is crouched down upon your hearths and awaits you at the sides of your
wives and daughters."

"Truly, Louise, your words, make me shudder! and my heart, which was
beating so joyfully, seems now to stand still."

Louise paid no attention to his words, but went on:

"You say the war is at an end. I believe it has just begun. It will be