was repeating the solemn
words which precede the placing of the golden circlet upon the man's
brow. In another moment Peter of Blentz would be proclaimed the king
of Lutha.

By her father's side stood Emma von der Tann. Upon her haughty,
high-bred face there was no sign of the emotions which ran riot
within her fair bosom. In the act that she was witnessing she saw
the eventual ruin of her father's house. That Peter would long want
for an excuse to break and humble his ancient enemy she did not
believe; but this was not the only cause for the sorrow that
overwhelmed her.

Her most poignant grief, like that of her father, was for the dead
king, Leopold; but to the sorrow of the loyal subject was added the
grief of the loving woman, bereft. Close to her heart she hugged the
memory of the brief hours spent with the man whom she had been
taught since childhood to look upon as her future husband, but for
whom the all-consuming fires of love had only been fanned to life
within her since that moment, now three weeks gone, that he had
crushed her to his breast to cover her lips with kisses for the
short moment ere he sacrificed his life to save her from a fate
worse than death.

Before her stood the Nemesis of her dead king. The last act of the
hideous crime against the man she had loved was nearing its close.
As the crown, poised over the head of Peter of Blentz, sank slowly
downward the girl felt that she could scarce restrain her desire to
shriek aloud a protest against the wicked act--the crowning of a
murderer king of her beloved Lutha.

A glance at the old man at her side showed her the stern, commanding
features of her sire molded in an expression of haughty dignity;
only the slight movement of the muscles of the strong jaw revealed
the tensity of the hidden emotions of the stern old warrior. He was
meeting disappointment and defeat as a Von der Tann should--brave to
the end.

The crown had all but touched the head of Peter of Blentz when a
sudden commotion at the back of the cathedral caused the bishop to
look up in ill-concealed annoyance. At the sight that met his eyes
his hands halted in mid-air.

The great audience turned as one toward the doors at the end of the
long central aisle. There, through the wide-swung portals, they saw
mounted men forcing their way into the cathedral. The great horses
shouldered aside the foot-soldiers that attempted to bar their way,
and twenty troopers of the Royal Horse th