rotegee were admitted without objection. The sergeant in charge of that
floor even permitted them to go into the corridor unattended.

Voices.

"Hush!" whispered her highness, pressing Gretchen's arm.

"_Ach!_ Wail, dear nephew, beat your hands upon the bars, curse, waste
your breath on stone. Did I not warn you against this very thing when
you proposed this mad junket? Well, there are two of us. A fine scandal!
They will laugh at us for months to come."

"Woe to the duke for this affront!"

Gretchen started to speak, but the princess quickly put her hand over
the goose-girl's mouth.

"Ha! So war is gathering in your veins?"

"I will have revenge for this!"

"Good! Bang--bang! Slash and cut! War is a great invention--on paper.
Come, my boy; you were sensible enough when they brought us here.
Control yourself. Be a king in all the word implies. For my part, I
begin to see."

"And what do you see?"

"I see that the duke knows who we are, even if his police do not. He
will keep us here a day or two, and then magnanimously liberate us with
profuse apologies. We shall be escorted to the frontier with honors. His
highness loves a jest too well to let this chance escape. Besides, I see
in the glass the fine Italian hand of Herbeck. I have always heard that
he was a great statesman. Swallow your wrath, even if your tongue goes
down with it."

"Gretchen, Gretchen!" said the king.

Gretchen could stand it no longer. She wrenched herself free from the
grasp of the princess, who, with pitying heart, understood all now. Poor
unhappy Gretchen!

"Here I am, Leopold!" the goose-girl cried, pressing her body against
the bars and thrusting her hands through them.

"The devil!" murmured the man in the other cell.

"You here, Gretchen?" The king covered her hands with passionate
kisses.

"Yes, yes! They have made a dreadful mistake. You are no spy from
Jugendheit."

"No, Gretchen," said the voice from the next cell. "He is far worse than
that. He is the king, Gretchen, the king."

"Uncle!" in anguish.

"Let us have it over with," replied Prince Ludwig sadly.

"The king?" Gretchen laughed shrilly. "What jest is this, Leopold?"

The king, still holding her hands, looked down.

"Leopold?" plaintively.

Still he did not speak, still he averted his head. But God knew that his
heart was on the rack.

The princess, remaining in the background, not daring to interfere, felt
the smart of tears in her eyes. Ah, the p