e morning, to bid her farewell, as he was to march
in the course of the day with his regiments from Potsdam. With the
tenderest assurances of love he took leave of Wilhelmine, and with tears
kissed his two children, pressing them to his heart. As he was about
to enter his carriage he returned to the house to embrace his weeping
mistress, and reassure her of his fidelity, and make her promise him
again and again that she would remain true to him, and never love
another.

It was not alone the farewell to her beloved prince which caused
Wilhelmine such anxiety and made her so restless. Like a dark cloud the
remembrance of Cagliostro's mysterious appearance arose in her mind,
overshadowing her every hour more and more, filling her soul with
terror. In vain did she seek refuge near her children, trying to cheer
and forget herself in their innocent amusement--one moment running about
the garden with them, then returning to the house to reexamine it. Her
thoughts would revert to Cagliostro, and the solemnities which were to
take place at her house that night. The thought terrified her that at
nightfall she was obliged to send away all her servants, and not even be
permitted to lock herself in the lonely, deserted house. For the great
magician had commanded her to let the doors of her house stand open; he
would place sentinels at every entrance, and none but the elect would be
allowed to enter. Wilhelmine had not the courage to resist this command.
As evening approached, she sent the cook, with other servants, to her
apartment at Berlin, ordering them to pack her furniture and other
effects, and send them by a hired wagon to Charlottenburg the following
morning. An hour previous to this she had sent the nurse and two
children to Potsdam with a similar commission, ordering them to
return early the next day. Alone she now awaited with feverish anxiety
Cagliostro's appearance. Again and again she wandered through the
silent, deserted rooms frightened at the sound of her own footsteps, and
peering into each room as if an assassin or robber were lurking there.
She had many enemies--many there were who cursed her, and, alas! none
loved her--she was friendless, save the prince, who was far away. The
tears which the princess had shed on her account weighed like a heavy
burden upon her heart, burning into her very soul in this hour of
lonely, sad retrospection. She tried in vain to excuse herself, in the
fact that she had loved the prin