and the bankers
declined to honour her drafts was a matter to smile at, since the way
now seemed clear to a crown, with all it meant of wealth and power. When
the Venetian Government grew uneasy at the plotting within its borders,
she went to Ragusa, where she blossomed into the "Princess of all the
Russias," assumed the sceptre that was soon to be hers, issued
proclamations as a sovereign, and crowned these regal acts by sending a
ukase to Alexis Orloff, the Russian Commander-in-Chief, "signed
Elizabeth II., and instructing him to communicate its contents to the
army and fleet under his command."

Once more, however, fortune played the Princess a scurvy trick, just
when her favour seemed most assured. One night a man was seen scaling
the garden-wall of the palace she was occupying. The guard fired at him,
and the following morning Domanski was found, lying wounded and
unconscious in the garden. The tongues of scandal were set wagging
again, old suspicions were revived, and once again the word
"adventuress"--and worse--passed from mouth to mouth. The men who had
fawned on her now avoided her; worse still, Radziwill, his latent
suspicions thoroughly awakened, and confirmed by a hundred stories and
rumours that came to his ears, declined to have anything more to do
with her, and returned in disgust to Germany.

But even this crushing rebuff was powerless to damp the spirits and
ambition of the "adventuress," who shook the dust of Ragusa off her
dainty feet, and went off to Rome, where she soon cast her spell over
Sir William Hamilton, our Ambassador there, who gave her the warmest
hospitality. "For several days," we learn, "she reigns like a Queen in
the _salon_ of the Ambassador, out of whose penchant for beautiful women
she has no difficulty in wiling a passport that enables her to enter the
most exclusive circles of Roman society."

In Rome she lays aside her regal trappings, and wins the respect of all
by her unostentatious living and her prodigal charities. She becomes a
favourite at the Vatican; Cardinals do homage to her goodness, with
perhaps a pardonable eye to her beauty. But behind the brave and pious
front she thus shows to the world her heart is growing more heavy day by
day. Poverty is at her door in the guise of importunate creditors, her
servants are clamouring for overdue wages, and consumption, which for
long has threatened her, now shows its presence in hectic cheeks and a
hacking cough. Fortune see