egation.

"Yes, an intentional murder," said Baron Waltz, emphatically--"the
murder of the King of Prussia. If you prevent this crime, you will
receive ten thousand guilders," said Zetto, examining Weingarten's
countenance closely. He remarked that the baron, who was but a moment
ago pale from terror, now reddened, and that his eyes sparkled joyously.

"And what can I do to prevent this murder?" asked Weingarten, hastily.

"You can warn the king."

"But to warn successfully, I must have proofs."

"We are ready to give the most incontrovertible proofs."

"I must, before acting, be convinced of the veracity of your charges."

"I hope that my word of honor will convince you of their truth," said
Baron Waltz, pathetically.

Weingarten bowed, with an ambiguous smile, that did not escape Zetto.
He drew forth his pocket-book, and took from it a small, folded paper,
which he handed to Weingarten.

"If I strengthen my declaration with this paper, will you trust me?"

Weingarten looked with joyful astonishment at the paper; it was a check
for two thousand guilders. "My sister's dowry," thought Weingarten, with
joy. But the next moment came doubt and suspicion. What if they were
only trying him--only convincing themselves if he could be bought?
Perhaps he was suspected of supplying the Prussian Government from time
to time with Austrian news--of communicating to them the contents of
important dispatches!

The fire faded from his eye, and with a firm countenance he laid the
paper upon the table.

"Your are mistaken, gentlemen! That is no document, but a check."

"With which many documents could be purchased," said Zetto, smiling.
Placing the paper again in his pocket-book, he took out another and a
larger one. It was a check for three thousand guilders.

But Weingarten had regained his composure. He knew that men acting thus
must be spies or criminals; that they were testing him, or luring him on
to some unworthy act. In either case, he must be on his guard.

"I beg you to confirm your charge in the usual manner," said he, with
a cold, indifferent glance at the paper. "Murder is a dreadful
accusation--you cannot act too carefully. You say that an Austrian
officer intends to murder the King of Prussia. How do you know this?"

"From himself," said Baron Waltz. "He communicated his intentions to me,
and confided to me his entire plan."

"It appears," remarked Weingarten, mockingly, "that the officer had
reason to b