e,
full of admiration, and their lips were lavish in praises of the noble
count, while their eyes shone brighter from partaking of the generous
wine. The lackeys flew up and down the hall, waiting upon the guests, the
pages stood behind the count's chair, and offered his excellency food and
drink in vessels of gold. At first they sat at table with grave and
dignified demeanor, but gradually the delicious viands enlivened their
hearts, the glowing wine loosened their tongues, and now they laughed and
talked merrily and gave themselves entirely up to the pleasures of the
table. Louder swelled the hum of mingled voices. Peals of laughter rang
through the banquet hall, until in their turn they were drowned by bursts
of dashing music, whose inspiring strains blended with the animated tones
of the human voice. Count Adam Schwarzenberg, who sat at the upper end of
the table under a canopy of purple velvet, heard all this, and yet it
seemed to him like a dream, and as if all this bustle, laughing, and
merrymaking came to him from the distant past. He heard the confusion of
voices, the clangor of the music, but it sounded hollow in his ear, and
above all rang fearfully distinct the name which Lehndorf had
pronounced--Gabriel Nietzel! His guests sang and laughed, but he heard
only that one name--Gabriel Nietzel!

Round about the long table he saw only glad faces, beaming eyes, and
flushed cheeks, but he saw them vanish and other faces arise before his
inner eye, faces of the past! There sat the Elector George William, with
his easy, good-natured countenance. He nodded smilingly at him, and his
glance, full of affection, rested upon _him_, the favorite. Yes, he had
loved him dearly, that good Elector! Out of the little, insignificant
Count Schwarzenberg he had made a mighty lord, had exalted him into a
Stadtholder, into the most powerful subject in his realm! And how had he
requited him?

"Gabriel Nietzel! Gabriel Nietzel!" He heard the maddening words ringing
clearly and distinctly above the din of music, song, and laughter--"Gabriel
Nietzel!"

There he stood in page's dress, across there, behind the chair of the
young Electoral Prince, whose pale, noble features had just begun to
quiver convulsively--there he stood and cast a look of intelligence at
_him_, Count Schwarzenberg.

"Gabriel Nietzel! Gabriel Nietzel!"

Ever thus rang the echo through the hall, and however varied the medley of
sounds, to him all was embodied in