ion for war has
already made a sufficient number of childless parents. I will not make
to it the offering of my only son.'

'What is my insignificant life in comparison with Sweden's welfare?'
cried Arwed with enthusiasm.

'Sweden's welfare!' said the father, turning towards him again. 'How
can Sweden's welfare be promoted by this unholy war? Instead of
attempting to regain our blessed German territories, which our enemies
have divided among themselves, we go forth to the conquest of Norway,
which can never repay the blood and treasure she must cost, and will
never be truly loyal unless when garrisoned by our troops.'

'To me it appears to be a noble attempt,' said Arwed, 'to conquer a
part of his own states from an enemy who has taken so much from us.'

'It appears so to you,' answered his father, 'because you are a young
simpleton, who are dazzled by the brilliancy of the enterprise. Would
to God there were not even older fools who hold the same opinions.
However wise or foolish this expedition may be, you can take no part in
it. You have your answer, with which you will please retire and leave
me alone. I have pressing business.'

He turned again to his table and immediately resumed his writing. Arwed
remained standing there with a sad countenance, his large blue veins
swelling almost to bursting. His lips were already parting to reply,
but he recollected himself and left the cabinet with passionate haste.

Startled by the loud slamming of the door, the senator peevishly turned
his eyes in that direction;--near it he saw a little billet lying upon
the floor, which he took up and brought to his writing table.

'A three-cornered billet,' murmured he, examining it. 'Fine gilt-edged
paper, redolent of perfume,--it must be a love-letter!' He cut the
delicate knot which served for a seal, and, as he read, his brows
became knitted with anger. Then seizing a silver bell which lay upon
the table before him, he rung it violently. 'My secretary!' cried he to
the servant who answered the bell.

'Very tender,' said he, after having re-perused the note. 'An amorous
intrigue at court, and yet the youth desirous of engaging in the
Norwegian war! It is strange--but it pleases me.'

Brodin, the count's secretary, an old, true, experienced, hereditary
servant, now stepped softly into the cabinet, gently closing the door
after him.

'A billet-doux, that my son has just dropped here,' cried the senator,
advancing and handing