s eyes were blinded, and his ears were filled with dust.

"Those whom demons will destroy, they first strike with blindness."
Trenck's evil genius had blinded his eyes--his destruction was sure.
There remained no hope of escape. The carriage had reached the end of
the wood and rolled now over the chausse to Boslin.

But what means this great crowd before the stately house which is
decorated with the Prussian arms? What means this troop of soldiers
who with stern, frowning brows, surround the dark coach with the closed
windows?

"We are in Boslin," said Von Halber, pointing toward the group of
soldiers. "That is the post-house, and, as you see, we are expected."

For the first time Trenck was pale, and horror was written in his face.
"I am lost!" stammered he, completely overcome, and sinking back into
the carriage he cast a wild, despairing glance around him, and seized
the arm of Halber with a powerful hand.

"Be merciful, sir! oh, be merciful! Let us move more slowly. Turn back,
oh, turn back! just to the entrance of the wood--only to the entrance of
the street!"

"You see that is impossible," said Von Halber, sadly. "We are
recognized; if we turn back now, they will welcome us with bullets."

"It were far better for me to die," murmured Trenck, "than to enter that
dark prison--that open grave!"

"Alas! you would not fly--you would not understand me. I gave you many
opportunities, but you would not avail yourself of them."

"I was mad, mad!" cried Trenck. "I had confidence in myself--I had faith
in my good star--but the curse of my evil genius has overtaken me. Oh,
my God! I am lost, lost! All my hopes were deceptive--the king is my
irreconcilable enemy, and he will revenge my past life on my future! I
have this knowledge too late. Oh, Halber! go slowly, slowly; I must give
you my last testament. Mark well what I say--these are the last words
of a man who is more to be pitied than the dying. It is a small service
which I ask of you, but my existence depends upon it: Go quickly to the
Duke of Wurtemberg and say this to him: 'Frederick von Trenck sends Duke
Ferdinand his last greeting! He is a prisoner, and in death's extremity.
Will the duke take pity on him, and convey this news to her whom he
knows to be Trenck's friend? Tell her Trenck is a prisoner, and hopes
only in her!' Will you swear to me to do this?"

"I swear it," said Von Halber, deeply moved.

The carriage stopped. Von Halber sprang down and gr