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 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF ILLINOIS 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 From the collection of 
 
 Julius Doerner, Chicago 
 
 Purchased, 1918. 
 
 654 RI9 
 OrEb 
 
 1696 
 

 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 By HEREBERT RAU 
 author of "mozart," etc. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN 
 
 BY 
 
 AGNES A. E. BLASE 
 
 Chicago 
 HOMEWOOD PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 Publisher? 
 
 
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 ».A-., * _ ^i(*«(ap5Sfajji.jafe.?!A^; 
 
J 
 
 Copyright 1893 
 
 BY 
 
 MORRILL, HIGGINS & CO. 
 Copyright 1898, 
 
 BY 
 
 W. B. CON KEY COMPANY. 
 
 ^ xT^^A^J^^^j^S^Sa 
 
 ^.^^^^^^i^i^sMs^^^M^. . 
 
■■■•;-' '3' 
 
 
 
 
 ^T?.-^ i,^ Jpp- 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Part I. (Vol. i) 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. Louis XIV and mi's Court 7 
 
 II. Louis XIV - 13 
 
 III. A Day from the Life of a King 20 
 
 IV. "Nec Pluribus Imper" '. . 30 
 
 V. The Marquise De Montespan Louvois.... 49 
 
 VI. An Intrigue 69 
 
 VII. The Conjuration 83 
 
 VIII. The Dream. 98 
 
 IX. "A noble Friend" . 107 
 
 X. The Chase and th : Deer 119 
 
 XL A distinguished Rascal 135 
 
 XII. "The Catastrophe" 148 
 
 Part XL 
 
 xiii. Strasburg 162 
 
 XIV. The Tailor 165 
 
 XV. Family Joys : 174 
 
 XVI. Hans IN Ichnekenloch 181 
 
 XVII. Alma 198 
 
 XVIII. The Traitors 206 
 
 XIX. A Trying Hour 215 
 
 , 
 
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TT^^'^'^^:^^^^-^^^'^'^^^'' 
 
 , ■''^^4 
 
 -^jf^^f^fl^tjS"' 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 
 • ' . 
 
 Part III. (Vol. 2) 
 
 CHAPT'ER PAGE 
 
 I. The Masquerade 225 
 
 II. The Politics of France 254 
 
 HI. Storms 270 
 
 IV. The Ghost 275 
 
 Part IV^ 
 
 V. The Discovery 288 
 
 VI. The Superior of the Franciscans 300 
 
 VII. The Star of Life = 315 
 
 VIII. The Deliverer 322 
 
 IX. The Happiness of Love 341 , 
 
 Fart V. 
 
 X. The Suitor 354 
 
 XI. The Witch's Kitchen 373 
 
 XII. The Duchesse De Fontanges 389 
 
 XIII. An Audience 401 
 
 XIV. Darkness and Sorrow , 412 
 
 Part VL 
 
 1. The Secret of the Bridge 421 
 
 n. The Gardener's Wife 445 
 
 III. Hannibal Ante Sortas 462 
 
 IV. A Sad Day 477 
 
 V. The Capitulation 485 
 
 VI. Dreams and Illusions , 504 
 
 vn. A Withered Rose 519 
 
 vin. The Rule of Nemesis 529 
 
 IX. The Consecration of the Robbery 536 
 
 X. Joy and Sorrow 545 
 
 ^}'-'f^sdM&iSiJ£l^'llL'-indSi-.\.'^tZs\vii:ML^'JiJf£^ 
 

 I 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER. 
 
 PART I. I 
 
 LOUIS XIV AND HIS COURT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The peace of Nymwegen had strengthened anev; the 
 power of Louis XIV, King of France. He now stood 
 before the world victorious and more powerful and 
 greater than ever, while on the one hand his century 
 greeted him with acclamations, and on the other curses 
 and imprecations followed him. For more than half a 
 century the predominating influence of this powerful 
 and ambitious king was felt in European affairs. Louis 
 XIV sticceeded in crushing the opposition of tiie nobil- 
 ity, which had been the bane of the whole kingdom; 
 in breaking the power of Parliament, and treading 
 into the dust, with iron heel, every attempt made by 
 the people for freedom. The nation obeyed; Parlia- 
 ment received laws from the monarch who did not 
 hesitate to appear before it in a hunting-jacket, muddy 
 boots, and riding-whip in hand. Even the leaders and 
 heroes of the Fronde sunk to flattering, hypocritical 
 courtiers. Louis had brought his kingdom to submit 
 
 7 
 
8 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 to the most absolute and unlimited sovereignty, and 
 his bold motto, " V etat c* est mot" rolled over a world 
 trembling with astonishment and excitement.' But 
 above all the king knew, understood and compre- 
 hended France and the French. Civil war had nour- 
 ished and increased the energy of the French people; 
 now the crafty prince used this strength, for his 
 chosen ends. Bold plans wake the ambition of the 
 nation; conquests — just or unjust— strengthened it; 
 heroes like Conde and Turenne excited the volatile and 
 war-loving people to an almost fanatical desire for 
 battle; while the brilliancy and magnificence of the 
 court, the growth of giant buildings, the protection 
 and support of the arts and sciences, filled the French 
 nation with the contagious poetical intoxication of 
 greatness. What was more natural than that the 
 warlike, vain, easily excited French should now rush 
 into the pathway of fame and greatness, which had 
 been opened to them by their beloved monarch 
 
 At that time the stars of the first magnitude in 
 France were Mazarin, Colbert, Louvois — Conde, Tu- 
 renne, Luxemburg, Catinat, Vandonie — Corneille, Ra- 
 cine, Moliere, Bayle, La Fontaine, Boileau, Fenelon, 
 Bourdaloue, Bossuet, Saurin, Massilon — Mansard, 
 Claude Lorraine, Poussin, Lebrun and many others. 
 
 Three things worked together to give to France an 
 age of brilliancy such as she has never since seen; 
 and these were: the increasing Intellectual activity of 
 the whole people- the rare individuality of the prom- 
 
^|,;-"j!«-=,;««.-i^"-'^'^'^r'-i -'• -'«^^**" V 
 
 \ 
 
 
 LOUIS XIV AND HIS COURT - 9 
 
 jnent men just mentioned— and the great interest and 
 co-operation of the government. A new era dawned 
 for France, an era which in many respects reminds 
 one of the time of a Pericles, an Augustus, ar.d the 
 Medicis. And this brillianc}^ was so much the greater 
 because the formerly dreaded rivals of France had 
 fallen into inactivity and weakness. 
 
 The sun of Spain had gone down. The strength of 
 Germany had long since faded, and the Emperor 
 Leopold I, son of the Emperor Ferdinand III and 
 the Spanish Infanta Maria Anna, was not the man to 
 rescue the German Empire from its disunion, lethargy 
 and perversity. Managing the helm of state with a 
 weak hand, he saw the Empire threatened In- the 
 Turks, Hungary in rebellion, his capital, Vienna, be- 
 sieged, France at war with Germany, and the north 
 of the Empire growing strong as an independent gov- 
 ernment under Frederic Wilhelm, Elector of Branden- 
 burg. The hopes of the once proud and dictatorial 
 imperial crown now rested in the support of Holland 
 and England. Denmark and Sweden, however, one 
 or the other alternately allied to France or her 
 enemy, annulled their influence, while at that period 
 the voice of Russia was heard but little, and the Sul- 
 tan was a friend to Louis the Fourteenth. 
 
 So, in two great wars against half Europe, Louis 
 gained, through costly conquests, ' a brilliant; and 
 richly rewarded victory. 
 
 Nothing would have been wiser and more natural 
 
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 lO 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 A ROYAL 
 
 ROBBER 
 
 than for all the allied European powers with the Ger- 
 man Emperor at their head to oppose Louis in his 
 plans for conquest, but the Elector Frederic of Brand- 
 enburg was almost the only one who recognized the 
 importance of doing so. 
 
 He entered into an offensive and defensive alliance 
 with Spain, the Emperor of Germany and Holland 
 against France. 
 
 Louis, in consequence of this, was obliged to with- 
 draw a portion of his troops under Turenne from Hol- 
 land. Although there had been no great battles in 
 the Netherlands, the French army had been very much ■ 
 reduced by skirmishes, sickness, etc. ; while an at- 
 tempt of the new general to invade the interior of 
 Holland on the ice utterly failed 
 
 The French were so luxurious that they would eat 
 nothing but the tongues of cows, and buried the rest 
 of the animal to avoid the stench. As soon as mis- 
 fortune overtook them their wantoness quickly changed 
 into v/ild vandalism; they committed so many fright- 
 ful crimes, plundering, levying, burning, etc., that 
 the worst days of the Thirty Years War seemed to 
 have returned. 
 
 The troops of Louis the Fourteenth, were obliged 
 to withdraw, but this retreat was graced by 3,000 
 wagons laden with plunder and booty. 
 
 The king of France had now, as before no further 
 cause to continue the v/ar or commence a new one,— \ 
 east of all with Germany which really wished for 
 
 
'':;^f,5r;f^^«?^:V-- ■ ■ ■ . ™"*^'»\ ^' - "t^*^^^- 
 
 LOUIS XIV AND HIS COURT 11 
 
 peace. But since Louis XIV was convinced that his 
 seizure of Holland had been a mis-step, his' pride and 
 insatiate desire for new conquest soug-ht another 
 means of bringing the conflict he had commenced to a 
 victorious close. •. 
 
 The idea of a universal monarchy, which at a later 
 day, intoxicated and led astray Napoleon I, haunted 
 the mind of Louis. But as he was r never accustomed 
 to take justice into consideration with his desires, he 
 now turned against the German Empire. 
 
 Under a mere pretext the Rhine-bridge iiear Strass- 
 burg, this pearl in the chain of German cities, was 
 burnt ; the other imperial cities In Alsace were captured, 
 soldiers took possession of German provinces, taxes 
 were unjustly levied, and within the boundaries of 
 German}' the French committed many arbitrary acts 
 which even their own rulers — the Emperor and Em- 
 pire — would not have been justified In doing. But al] 
 this, so said Louis XIV, was in no way a violation of 
 peace, but only kindly Interference against the dang- 
 erous and powerful Emperor, although no one had 
 asked for this assistance. Louis declared that the 
 welfare of the German Empire was very dear to him, 
 and his troops, under Turenne, had only invaded it to 
 keep peace and order. Still he, with his whole army, 
 was ready to withdraw from Germany, if the German 
 Emperor would do the same. 
 
 Thus stood political affairs at the time of the be- 
 ginning of this story. At the sam^tlme the brilliancy 
 
 tne sam^; 
 
 
 \ 
 
 \ 
 
 ijOiiAiiialaba^Snj^.. . .iit&.ij^. AafcSfcuaJ^/.... .. j^a* »'. j. 
 

 12 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 and magnificence of the court at Versailles and the 
 apparent greatness of Louis XIV dazzled France and 
 the whole world. Louis stood at the height of his 
 power; he was possessed of the best armies, the great- 
 est generals, a fine navy and still retained the affec- 
 tion of his subjects. Throughout France, arts, sciences, 
 and commerce flourished better than ever before — the 
 most brilliant society existed in Paris — nothing could 
 be prouder and more magnificent than the court of 
 Louis XIV. The most beautiful and intellectual 
 women of France surrounded the throne of the king 
 like a magnificent diadem of flowers. But Louis XIV 
 knew how to appreciate this great charm of his court 
 as his motto proves: "A court without women is a; 
 year without spring, and a spring without roses," and 
 verily;, .he plucked enough of these roses to sumptuous- 
 iy adorn his life. 
 
 

 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 LOUIS XIV, 
 
 The scene in the great gallery in the palace of Ver- 
 sailles was a very animated one. Servants in glitter- 
 ing liveries, cavaliers in still more gorgeous court 
 costumes, ladies dressed in satin, silk, or velvet, glis- 
 tening in the colored ra3's of costly jewels, but still 
 brighter in their own loveliness, filled the spacious 
 room which Mansard had adorned with a wealth of 
 mirrors, marble and gold bronzes, and Lebrun had 
 decorated with his noble pictures. The palace of 
 Versailles was then considered one of the new won- 
 ders of the world; as it will remain for all time one 
 of the most remarkable monuments of the history of 
 Art. At one time only a prior}^, a farm-house and a 
 wind-mill stood on the eminence which now bears 
 the crown of palaces. In the days of Louis XIII the 
 farm house had disappeared, but the wind-mill still 
 existed and often the sad and thoughtful monarch, 
 returning from the chase, had slept in this miserable 
 hut. He built a pavilion. Three years later the 
 pavilion was converted into a small castle. Louis 
 XIII made this little palace his toy. He passed the 
 winter of 1632, the carnival of 1633 and the whole 
 
 13 
 
 / 
 
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-:; -X-'' 
 
 H 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 autumn of the same year there." One morning when 
 he was wandering about this residence — the only one 
 which he regarded as his own property — he said in a 
 moment of enthusiasm to the Duke of Grammont: 
 "Marshal! do you remember having seen a wind-mill 
 here?" "Yes, Sire" — answered the marshal — "the mill 
 has disappeared, but the wind is still here." 
 
 At last — in the year 1683 — Loiiis XIV determined 
 to make a royal residence of Versailles. Mansard de- 
 signed the plan, Lebrun sketched it, and now arose 
 the magnificent building, which swallowed no less 
 than one hundred and sixty-five million livres, and 
 which by the unfortunate desire to imitate Louis XIV, 
 for a long time — to the misery of nations and subjects 
 — gave the example and pattern for a multitude of 
 castles to European princes. 
 
 The courtiers and dignitaries of the kingdom \yere 
 gathered together in the great gallery of this castle, 
 to attend His Majesty according to their rank and 
 title at " les grandes 011 secojides entrees" of the "Lever"; 
 for Louis XIV was surrounded by a strict, almost in- 
 credible ceremony which reminded one of Eastern 
 potentates. Louis XIV liked it to be so, . . . but Louis 
 XIV was cunning enough to unite therewith diplo- 
 matic strategy. For him everything depended upon 
 making an end of the feudal system in his kingdom, 
 bending the once proud and independent French 
 nobility under the yoke of his scepter, and reducing 
 them to an absolute dependence upon the crown. 
 
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 LOUIS XIY 15 
 
 ^ 
 
 Two things materially aided him; the innate French 
 vanity and extravagance, and the ambition of the nobility. 
 Charmed and attracted by the splendor and magnifi- 
 cence of the court, the noblest families rushed into a 
 rivalry in expenditure which only too soon, led them 
 to bankruptcy, and thus to the most entire dependence 
 upon the crown. But the crafty wearer of this crown 
 gave them a good example of pompous show: for 
 example, the value of the crown jewels, which at the , 
 death of King Louis XIII, amounted to 700,000 
 francs, in i6g6, under Louis XIV, had increased to 
 11,330,000 francs: At the same time, satin, silk, vel- 
 vet, costly laces, jewels, gold and silver brocades, 
 leathers and trinkets of all kinds decked the ladies 
 and gentlemen of the court to excess; but if this was 
 usually the case, how much more so to day, . . . the day 
 on which the Persian ambassadors had been granted a 
 ceremonious audience — in which the}' had begged to 
 lay at the feet of the King of France the homage of 
 their ruler. Everything therefore exhibited the 
 greatest magnificence, which reached its summit in 
 the toilettes of the Duchesses de Chatillon, de Rohan, 
 de Montbazon, and de Beaufort, who passed through 
 the gallery with the ladies of honor to the "entree du 
 labiner . As the resplendent suns of this court, they 
 were surrounded and followed by other stars; and a 
 long line of ladles and gentlemen of high rank. 
 Merry conversation enlivened all, but the merriest 
 among the crowd of courtiers was the Due de Saint 
 
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 •l6 . A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 Aignan, the favorite of the King, who, inexhaustible 
 in spirit and wit, had won an important influence 
 over Louis XIV. This Due de Saint Aignan was a 
 handsome man, the perfect representative of a true 
 Frenchman, joyous as the day, changeable as quick- 
 silver, slippery as afi eel, and yet proud and chivalric 
 in all his waj's. His pale, rather thin, face, had fine 
 features, intellect shone from his black eyes; the 
 small delicate moustache, and beard a la Henri IV 
 were finely traced. Boldly arched eyebrows, with the 
 slightly aquiline nose, evinced courage and decision; 
 while his black waving hair and a delicate allongen- 
 peruke, such as the King was accustomed to wear, 
 harmonized admirably with the rest of his appear- 
 ance. 
 
 The slight figure was very conspicuous in the dress 
 of dark red velvet, whose texture was almost hidden 
 under its gold embroidery, while the vest of gold bro- 
 cade covered the body almost to the knees, like a 
 glittering coat of mail. His handsomely formed legs 
 were clothed in white silk stockings, fastened by 
 ruby clasps to the red velvet small clothes. Buttons 
 and shoe-buckles were set with the same stones: a 
 large ostrich feather — white as new fallen snow — 
 waved lightly from the small three-cornered hat, 
 while the sword hung with a defiant air, by the side 
 of the cavalier, and pert and defiant, merry and easy 
 -^as v/as then the custom of Louis XIV's Court — were 
 the words of the Due. The Due's frivolity in matters 
 
 &ti3&»«&,ii:'» i&^,iAi&»ti^Sili^^.i,.i,^.^'l<>Sif.f'ii:.ij:l-,.v'i-iitJi^^ 
 
ffSSSSJ 
 
 
 LOUIS XIV 
 
 17 
 
 of religion was well l<nown, but as the report had 
 been spread among the courtier's that Saint Aignan 
 , had taken off his hat before a crucifix, the Duchesse 
 de Chatillon had just asked him if he had been con- 
 verted and turned to the Lord. 
 
 Saint Aignan smiled and answered: — "We bow to 
 each other, but are not on speaking terms." 
 
 "He is a perfect heathen! " — exclaimed Saint Far- 
 geaii — "Do you know, ladies, what a heretical answer 
 the Due lately gave me?" 
 
 "No!" exclaimed all. 
 
 "What was it Prince?" replied St. Aignan, laughing 
 — "I have forgotten that crime." 
 
 "A few evenings since, as I was rising from the 
 gaming table with the Due, he was polite enough to 
 offer me his equipage." 
 
 "He is always a perfect gentleman," said the 
 Duchesse de Montbazon. 
 
 "As I knew," continued St. Fargeau — "that his 
 horses had been in use all day, I refused his offer. 
 What do you think he answered?""^ 
 
 "Well!" cried all laughing. 
 
 " Morbleul" said he — "if God had created my horses 
 to rest, he would have made them chaplaihs to the 
 sacred chapel. " 
 
 General hilarity followed this remark; but the Due 
 received many delicate taps of the fan from the ladies, 
 accompanied hy "godless man!" 
 
 "I don't really know whether I am godless," ex- 
 
 2 jobber 
 
 -£Jl^.^js»s^.^ 
 
 -.J!.. .^4^h.^, 
 
^* > .:\ ' 
 / 
 
 l8 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 claimed the Due — "but it was certainly godless tliat 
 the Prince should have won three thousand pistoles 
 from me on that same evening." 
 
 "Why, what is that?" said the Due de Hacqueville — 
 "the Duchesse de Bourgoyne lost 12,000 Louis d'or 
 last evening. 
 
 "Pah! 12,000 Louis d'or!" exclaimed Monsieur de 
 Brissac scornfully— "a mere bagatelle, the Montespan 
 understands that better. She lost four million livres 
 at Bassette at one sitting, but compelled the bankers 
 to continue playing till she won all back. The gen- 
 tlemen hoped to compensate themselves another time, 
 but they were bitterly deceived, for the next morning 
 the Montespan wisely forbade the game of Bassette." 
 
 "That she could easily do," said the Duchesse de 
 Sevigne merrily — "for the jeu (P atnour still remained." 
 
 "And with it the six prizes," * said Prince Conde 
 laughing. 
 
 "And yet she has been supplanted by Madame de 
 Soublse!" exclaimed St. Aignan carelessl)'. 
 
 "And how long will that color hold?" asked the 
 Due de Caumartin ironically; 
 
 "What is that to us," said St. Aignan — "For my 
 part I agree in this case with Her Majesty the Queen. 
 A short time since, when the report was spread that 
 Madame de Ludre was the King's mistress, one of the 
 queen's ladies had the audacity to inform Her Majes- 
 ty, and added: 'Your Majesty must oppose this new 
 
 * The six children she bore to Louis XIV, 
 
 
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 Levis JBPr 1$ 
 
 love!' The Queen said quietly, *It is nothing to me; 
 
 that concerns Madame de Montespan." 
 
 At this moment the voice of the first chamberlain 
 called: "L' entree du cabinet!" 
 
 The faces of the noble company were immediately 
 drawn into the lines demanded by etiquette; the 
 Duchesse, ordered their brocade skirts to be smoothed 
 out by their ladies in waiting; the gentlemen took off 
 their hats, and the whole group entered the royal 
 apartments. Those who remained in the large gallery 
 replaced their hats for their hour.. ..the hour of the 
 great audience, or the passing of His Majesty on the 
 way to mass, had not yet struck. 
 
 There were about sixty; gentlemen and ladies, 
 court and state officers, cavaliers, marquises, counts, 
 barons, and officials of all grades. Many of them— 
 who perhaps had not a sou in their pockets — gleamed 
 , and sparkled in magnificent costumes, costing more 
 than their whole propert}^ One fine looking young 
 man, who stood modestly, almost with an air of em- 
 barrassment, in a window-niche, formed an exception, 
 by his simple dress, which marked him as a country 
 nobleman. But how could the modesty of the youth 
 and his plain costume escape the notice of the cor- 
 tiers of Louis XIV? They whispered and jested about 
 the youth, and were highly delighted to shorten, the 
 'entre temps,' the tedious hour of waiting in the great 
 gallery of Versailles, by witticisms about the new- 
 comer. The young man, however, noticed nothing of 
 
 is*:'«f-M^ ^■^•-.h'-^-V.."' 
 
20 A ROYAL RO«BER 
 
 this. The splendor and magnificence of the court at 
 which he found himself to-day for the first time — the 
 impression made by the palace and his present sur- 
 roundings—the crowd of noisy courtiers, who moved 
 abput as easily and as much at home as if they were 
 in their own chambers^— the ardent glances of the 
 ladies, who notwithstanding his old fashioned, plain 
 dress, looked with pleasure at the handsome young 
 man — the levity of their appearance, which allowed 
 all their charms to be seen, so that there was scarcely 
 anything to conceal. .. .all this perplexed the youth 
 so much that he was incapable of quiet observation.' 
 But there were still more important things which 
 made him thoughtful and depressed in heart and 
 mind. Young Gauthier de Montferrand stood at one 
 "of the most important turning points of his life-r-for 
 it was the intention of his uncle, — the worthy old 
 captain of the royal guard, Monsieur de Torcy — to 
 present his nephew to the King, and introduce him to 
 the celebrated Court of Versailles. This was no trifle 
 to do. Gauthier, who was only twenty-one years 
 old, had lived till now in the most perfect retirement 
 in the country, and had been brought up with the 
 strictest principles. 
 
 Conflicting feelings raged in the breast of the youth. 
 Once enrolled in the King's body-guard, what a bril- 
 liant pathway might perhaps be opened to him! Gen- 
 erals and statesmen had gone forth from this body 
 guard, which stood so near the monarch. Gauthier 
 
LOUIS XIV 21 
 
 was Frenchman enough to place his aim high—young 
 enough to dream of the easiest fulfillment of the bold- 
 est desires. 
 
 Gauthier felt that this was for him the birth-day Qf 
 a new man and a new world. He felt that In this, 
 hour, he took the first step out of the boundaries of 
 his childhood; but, he felt, too, that in this same 
 hour the paradise of his childhood closed behind him, 
 and yet the youth understood that he must break, 
 through the flowery chains of childhood, if he would 
 be a 'man and gain a future. And yet in this decisive 
 hour, the thoughts of the young man turned again 
 with pain to the past. Who can bid adieu to an Eden 
 without a last look of love, of sadness, and painful 
 renunciation? And in this Eden still wandered for 
 Gauthier, a lovely angel w^ho had shared with him the 
 plays of his childhood, the simple, but pure and noble 
 joys of his youth. She was indeed a lovely maiden — 
 a distant relation — Marie Angeline Scoraille de Rou- 
 sille. Mademoiselle de Fontanges; — a vision of beauty, 
 whose auburn hair, mild eyes, and dazzling whiteness 
 of skin, gave an idea of the Madonna. 
 
 What joyous, happy hours Gauthier had passed 
 with her where her little ancestral castle stood 
 in charming Limagne, on the banks of the Allier. 
 , The youth was lost in these sweet dreams, forgetful 
 of his surroundings, thinking of this picture of his 
 loved home, of the ancestral castle, of the faith- 
 ful old mother, who now occupied it alone 
 
22 
 
 A ROYAT/^fiBER 
 
 and of Angeline, when a well-known voice fell upon 
 his ear. It was that of his uncle, Captain de Torcy, 
 just coming from the royal apartments into the gai- 
 l^ty, who now. approached his nephew: j 
 
 "It is ev.en so. Prince," said de Torcey at this 
 Y moment — "the Fontanges are connections of ours, but 
 only a single brand of this old family remains. It is 
 a very pretty and charming one, however." | 
 
 , "And that is Mademoiselle Scoraille de Rousille?" 
 
 "At your service." 
 
 "But how did you learn that the child is so beauti- 
 ful. Monsieur de Torcy? You have not left the court 
 these twenty years, and yet you say that Mademoiselle 
 Angeline is only sixteen years old." ■ 
 
 "Where did I learn that?" — answered the captain 
 with a proud, pleased smile — "I know it from yonder 
 young fellow!" and he pointed toward his nephew, 
 who still stood in the window niche, and at the 
 approach of the Prince and his uncle, bowed re- 
 spectfully, though rather awkwardly. i - 
 
 A scornful expression played round the corners of 
 St. Aignan's mouth; then he shrugged his shoulders 
 and said: "The heart of a youth is a partial painter 
 in such matters. " ^ 
 
 "And you. Prince" — interrupted the captain — mte a 
 doubting Thomas. Look here!" i 
 
 Torcy drew a miniature from his breast-pocket. "But 
 the Prince had scarcely cast a glance at the picture, 
 when he exclaimed with astonishment. "That is in- 
 
 ^^i,M^.£^^&,^&^^^^^ 
 
LOUIS XIV 
 
 «3 
 
 deed a charming creaturel How did you get such a 
 treasure, old swash-buckler?" 
 
 "Gautier brought it to me,"— answered de Torcy 
 ■v^ith ill-concealed vanity, and at the same time 
 introduced his nephew as Angeline's young friend 
 and playmate. ' 
 
 What thoughts rose in the mind of the Prince 
 at this moment, neither the new-comer nor the old 
 soldier could guess. Only one thing was plain; the 
 Prince suddenly welcomed young Gauthier<to the 
 Court of Versailles, with great warmth and kindness. 
 Indeed at parting he even offered his hand to him and 
 said: "We shall be friends!" 
 
 But how this scene had suddenly changed the man- 
 ner of all present towards the young man. The Due 
 de St. Aignon, though a much younger man than the 
 king, was one of his favorites. In a moment all jests, 
 witticisms, and bon mots upon the new-comer ceased, 
 and the scornful manner of the courtiers instantly 
 became respectful now that the Prince, a favorite of the 
 king,, had honored him with so friendly a reception. 
 
 "You are a lucky fellow," cried the Captain, as the 
 Prince withdrew. "If he speaks a good word for you, 
 you are secure! He is, to be sure, one of the wildest 
 and most extravagant men at court, but certain- 
 ly one of the most influential!** 
 
 "One of the wildest and most extravagant?** repeated 
 Gauthier with astonishment- — "and I must depend up- 
 on him?'* 
 
24 
 
 ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 . Monsieur de Torcy would have answered, but at 
 that moment came the announcement that the great 
 
 \ audience of ceremony was about to begin. The whole 
 gallery was in motion, as if by magic, and all streamed 
 
 - toward the Audience Hall. Torcy and his nephew 
 followed. Gautier's heart beat audibly; now for the 
 first time he was to see Louis XIV, surnamed "the 
 great." Grand and imposing was the Hall of Audi- 
 ence, upon which Mansard and Lebrun had lavished 
 all the resources of art. Grand and imposing was 
 the company collected here, for it comprised the high 
 birth, intellect, and beauty of France. But what was 
 all this in comparison to the moment in which 
 the doors flew open and the grand-master of ceremo- 
 nies appeared among them with the announcement — • 
 "the King" — all heads were uncovered, and the Sun 
 of France, Louis XIV, followed by the Queen, the 
 royal Prince, the Marquise de Montespan, Madame de 
 Soubise, Madame de Liidre, the whole Court and the 
 ministers and officers, entered amid a flourish of trum- 
 pets. Every one bowed to the dust and a death- 
 like silence followed the sound of the music. The 
 king alone was covered. Slowly, proudly, and grave- 
 ly he inclined his head and the . bended backs 
 dared to straighten themselves. i 
 
 Louis XIV wore a dress ornamented with gold and 
 precious stones worth twelve and a half million 
 francs; his tall, noble, and powerful figure could 
 scarcely stand upright beneath its weight; 
 
u>uis xnr ^ 25 
 
 And yet Gauthier did not see this dress, but only 
 the king, only Louis XIV, whom the world called 
 the Great and who indeed stood before him like a 
 demi-god among men. Louis XIV* throughout his 
 long reign, knew how to represent in a masterly man- 
 ner, the king. "With him, everything, down to the 
 slightest movement, the slightest word, was measured, 
 majestic, grand, and yet unstudied and natural. 
 
 No man ever accomplished- so much, or produced so 
 profound an impression by such means. A glance 
 frbm his eye, a«gesture of his hand was sought and 
 noticed, caused happiness or misery. And was he 
 not at the same time one of the handsomest men 
 in France? Though not tall, he was of good height, 
 and knew how to place himself on a par with/- the 
 tallest by his perfect bearing, as well as his high 
 heels. His mouth was beautiful, his aquiline nose in- 
 dicated firmness, there was an imperious expression in 
 the glance of his blue eyes, while his slow, sharply 
 accented manner of speech, lent a commanding earn- 
 estness to his wordg. In his whole bearing appeared 
 the Spanish gravity, an inheritance from his mother, 
 ' a gravity, however, most agreeably tempered b)^ French 
 grace. Gauthier was overpowered and enchanted, 
 as every Frenchman must have been by such a king; 
 but the formality almost depressed him, so that he 
 breathed more freely and easilj' when the sovereign, 
 and, following him, the Persian ambassadors, had re- 
 tired. For him, there yet remained the most import- 
 
^ 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 ant moment, that of his own presentation. But the hour 
 had not yet struck; for at the Court of Louis XIV, 
 everything moved according to the laws of an immuta- 
 ble, all-controlling etiquette. Gauthier's presentation 
 could only take place in the great gallery at the king's 
 progress to holy mass. 
 
 r' 
 
 -v.*£liaLj4fcV. > 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 A DAY FEOM THE UF£ OF A KINO. 
 
 When Gauthier had returned to the gallery with 
 his uncle — the whole court, with the exception of the 
 princes and princesses of royal blood, did the same 
 — Captain de Torcy asked his nephew what impression 
 he had received. The youth, full of enthusiasm, dis- 
 closed his whole heart. He was, as is the custom of 
 youth — fire and flame. Only this tedious ceremony; 
 the fetters of etiquette were disagreeable to one who 
 was accustomed to a free, happy life in the midst of 
 nature. Torcy listened to him with smiles; but when 
 Gauthier had finished, exclaimed: "O, ho, my young 
 man! I see you think it is the same here as in 
 Limagne! You cannot forget the beautiful mountains 
 of Puy de D6me and Mount d'or; but Paris and Ver- 
 sailles, St. Germain and Marly are not on the charm- 
 ing banks of the Allier, and at the court of a great 
 king things are different from the life in your ancestral 
 castle. But that you may understand the manners of 
 our court, I will describe a day from the life of the 
 king, and thereby pass awiay the tedious hour of wait- 
 
 ing. 
 
 How will that help me, uncle!" said Gauthier^ 
 
 
28 A ROYAL RtJBBER i 
 
 ' ■ " . . . I ■ ■■ -■• 
 
 "surely each day brings its own affairs, its own 
 changes ! " 
 
 "Scarcely, my young friend!" answered the uncle; 
 "one passes like another, at least so far as etiquette 
 is concerned; and to this His Majesty -clings, as to 
 a sacred thing. So listen and impress what I say 
 upon your mind, for any mis-step upon this smooth 
 floor may deprive you of positioi;i and future pros- 
 perity." 
 
 The young man had not expected such constraint at 
 the court of so powerful a king. His joyousness, 
 youthful courage, and ideas of freedom, rose strongly 
 against the yoke which was about to be laid upon 
 him; but he could not turn back. He therefore yielded 
 quietly, and — suppressing a deep ^gh— lent an ear to 
 his uncle, who stepping with his nephew into the win- 
 dow, continued: "At eight o'clock in the morning, if 
 the king still sleeps the 'garcons de chambre* enter, 
 if it is cold, make a fire, or if warm gently open the 
 windows. Then they take the Pen- cos,' 'the 'moriier\ 
 and */(fV de vielle' away." ! 
 
 " Uen~cas, mortiery lit de viellef repeated Gauthier, 
 "what are they?" , | ^ 
 
 " Ventre-saint-grisr exclaimed the captain, "it is 
 very evident that Limagne is far away from here, 
 otherwise, young man, you would know things which 
 are jiaily used by our great king. ^Uen-cas,* is a meal 
 which is always ready at night in case the king should 
 become hungry. The ^mortier' is a silver dish in the 
 
 tAit^u^li^:^.. ^.^■,AfS^,!iiA^ks^iBiit,,&i,;^^i.s3iii&^.^^-j.jii,..,^sx^£x^,j,,,AKi^.. 
 
A SAY FROM THE LIFE OF A KlWa 
 
 29 
 
 form of a mortar which is filled with water, amd upon 
 
 which floats apiece of yellow wax." 
 "And its use?- -'^ ■ 
 
 "It serves His Majesty for a night lamp.** 
 
 "hndithQlit deviellef" 
 
 "Is the bed which is prepared every evening in the 
 king's room for the first groom of the chamber." 
 
 "Well, and when all these things have been taken* 
 away?" asked the young man, with a slightly ironical 
 smile. 
 
 "Then," continued the captain gravely, "the first 
 chamberlain waits till the clock strikes half past 
 eight, and then wakes the king before the last stroke 
 dies awayo Thereupon the head surgeon and physi- 
 cian rub the king, and if he has perspired help him 
 change his linen. Now comes the entrance of those 
 ,who have free access to the ^Lever* or *les grandes 
 entries*. The first courtier opens the curtains of the 
 bed, and offers His Majesty the consecrated water 
 out of the bowl which has been brought to the head 
 of the bed." 
 
 "And those who are present at the ^Lever't'^ asked 
 GaUtheir. 
 
 "They remain a few moments, in which they have 
 the right to lay before the king any petitions. When 
 no one has anything more to request, the cavalier who 
 drew aside the curtains and offered the holy water, 
 gives him the prayer-book. Five minutes later His 
 Majesty closes the book, and the chamberlain hands 
 
30 
 
 A ROYAL ROBB£ft 
 
 him his dressing-gown, when the 'sec^nd^s entries* 
 takes place." ^ | 
 
 'And who are admitted to this ^secondes tntries*f" 
 
 "Only those of the highest rank." i 
 
 "Poor king!" exclaimed the youth, "he never has a 
 moment to himself." 
 
 "0!"'said his uncle, "there is more to come. A few 
 •moments after the reception of these persons, all of 
 great distinction are admitted, and finally those in the 
 gallery enter." 
 
 "And the king?" I 
 
 "He, in the meantime, busies himself in gracefully 
 putting on his shoes, which the first groom of the 
 chambers hands him, after clothing the royal legs in 
 . silk stockings. Every other day the Court is present 
 while His Majesty is shaved, when a cavalier is allowed 
 to hold his mirror." 
 
 "Allowed! Allowed!" repeated the youth, and a 
 dark flush crimsoned his noble face. **Is that an honor > 
 for a cavalier?" . ^ 
 
 " Ventre saint grisf** exclaimed Monsieur de Torcy, 
 "a great honor! " | 
 
 Gautheir was perplexed and silenced; but the cap- 
 tain gravely Continued, and explained that as soon as 
 the king was dressed he knelt in prayer. Then all 
 present, the clergy, the court, and even the cardinals, 
 knelt about him. Only the lackeys remained stand- 
 ing, and the Captain of the Guard on duty stood by 
 the door with drawn sword. "After that»" continued 
 
-A DAY FROM THE LIFE OF A KINO 31 
 
 M. de Torcy, "comes the the *entrie du cabinet,* The 
 king is followed into his cabinet by all the o€5cers. 
 who here receive their orders for the day. So the; 
 whole court knows in the morning what His Majesty 
 intends to do." 
 
 "But cannot the king make some change afterwards?^ 
 said Gauthier. 
 
 Torcy shook his head. "What Louis XIV Has once 
 ordered," he answered, "is never opposed or changed, 
 unless some important, unforeseen circumstance occurs.** 
 
 "Good heavens!" excj^imed the youth in an under- 
 tone, "then the king is no better than a slave." 
 
 "Imprudent boy," said the captain with an angry 
 
 glance, "can you never forget your Limagne! Here 
 
 even the walls have ears," and twisting his moustache, 
 
 . the captain looked cautiously around, fortunately they 
 
 were unheard and unnoticed. 
 
 "I will be more careful!" said the youth soothingly, 
 but he blushed like a girl, and his heart became more 
 despondent at what he heard. 
 
 The captain took up the thread of his discourse 
 again: "After giving the orders for the day, the king, 
 by a slight nod, grants all permission to retire; he 
 then converses with the young princess and their 
 tutors for about half an hour. Next foHows the time 
 for the state audience and the *entre temps,'* which is 
 the present time, and in which the whole court waits 
 here in the gallery." 
 
 "Then almost every minute has its particular name P 
 taid the youth smiling sadly. 
 
,, ,. .,., ,...^.^.^ 
 
 32 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 "And its duties! " added the captain, "Tn a qmtxter 
 of an hour, for instance, the king will pass us on his 
 way to mass, and at that time it is allowable to speak 
 to him, and present strangers. Collect yourself, young 
 
 man. " 
 
 Gauthier trembled. The great, decisive moment, in 
 which he should stand face to fjace with Louis XIV, 
 was approaching. He scarcely heard his uncle's 
 further description of the subsequent council of minis- 
 ters, and the visits of the king to his different mis- 
 tresses, the Marquise de Mpntespan, whose star was 
 now paling— Madame de Soubise, and Madame de 
 Ludre. 
 
 Of this Gauthier had already heard. France had 
 long been accustomed to see her kings languishing in 
 the rosy chains of love and beautiful women, and the 
 fact was now scarcely repulsive to a Frenchman. He 
 listened more earnestly to the further description, 
 when Torcy said: "His Majesty's dinner is almost 
 always 'au petit convert,^ that is, the king dines alone.** 
 
 "Alone?" exclaimed the youth with astonishment, 
 "and the queen and princes?" 
 
 "Alone," repeated M. de Torcy with an emphasis 
 which cut short all farther questions. "* Tel est notre 
 bon plaiser,' the king says. When the table is laid, 
 the court appears with the princes at their head, and 
 the first chevalieur informs the king that dinner is 
 served. The king appears, sits down, and is attended 
 by thfe first cnamberlain and the princes — often eveu 
 
A DAY FROM THE LIFE OF A KINO 33 
 
 Monseigneur his brother, while every one else stands 
 silently in the background with uncovered head. But, 
 what is the matter?" exclaimed Captain de Torcy 
 suddenly. " Venire saint gris, you are blushing like 
 a girl!" 
 
 "It is nothing!" answered Gautheir with embarrass- 
 ment. "I only wondered at Monseigneur — ^^and the 
 other nobles." 
 
 "For what reason?" broke in de Torcy, "the king'ia 
 the state; all others are his servants." 
 
 "But his own brother." 
 
 "The king never offers him a chair during the meal. 
 Standing with uncovered heads and napkins under 
 their arms, the princes of the blood serve him and 
 consider it an honor." 
 
 "The young man bit his lips. With what different 
 conceptions of honor he had come to court 1 What 
 •different ideas, too, of the one whom the world called 
 the greatest of kings, whom since his earliest child- 
 hood he had revered as the finest and proudest of chiv- 
 alry. 
 
 "After dinner," continued de Torcy, finishing his 
 picture with rapid strokes of the pencil, "the king 
 sometimes receives Monseigneur alone, and at the 
 same time feeds his setters. A second toilette in the 
 presence of the favorites then follows, and then — fine 
 weather or foul — they drive oiit, to chase a stag in the 
 park, to shoot, or to look at the different buildings.- 
 S'ometimes His Majesty orders a promenade with the 
 
 MirSeSi^ii'riaSiii!;. ■.a'A 
 
H 
 
 A roval robber 
 
 ladies, or a collation in the woods at Marly or Foil' 
 tainebleau." 
 
 "And his family?" asked Gauthier anxiously. 
 
 "An hour after the return belongs to them; then 
 comes the Montespan or Madame de Liidre, in whose 
 apartments the rest of the evening is passed." 
 
 "And supper? " } 
 
 ' "Takes place about ten o'clock. The master of cere- 
 mdnies on duty then appears with staff in hand, ac- 
 companied by the captain of the guard, who has kept 
 watch in the ante-chamber of the lady whom the king 
 visits. Only the captain," said Torcy proudly, "is 
 allowed to open the door and say *Le roi est served* 
 A quarter of an hour after, the king comes to sup- 
 per. During this quarter of an hour the officers of the 
 household have made *les preis.^*' 
 
 *'Les prets?" 
 
 "That is they have examined the bread, the salti 
 the plate, the napkins, the knives, forks, etc." j 
 
 "For what purpose?" 
 
 "To see if they are poisoned." ; 
 
 "Poisoned?" repeated the youth with astonishment^ 
 and his brow darkened. j 
 
 "This takes place at the dinner also," said his 
 uncle. "But the dishes are always prepared by this 
 rule: under surveillance of two guards, a doorkeeper, 
 one of the first chevaliers, the controller general and 
 the overseer of the kitchen, while two guards must 
 see that no one approaches the king's food." 
 
 fait» i.....%^v.- ...... . ^,v.'^.':.-j^to.^:.^.w:ljfej-jfek'^ife^i&fei<iA!aAia 
 
^ 
 
 • A DAY FROM THE LIFE OP A KING 35 
 
 ',■■■■■ ..-,,,,,« 
 
 "Poor king," sighed Gauthier. 
 
 "Why poor king?" asked Torcy with astonishment. 
 
 "How can a man have an appetite with such pre- 
 cautions?" said the young man. 
 
 His uncle laughed heartily " Ventre-saint-gris,—** y 
 
 said he merrily. "You can be at rest on that subject. 
 His Majesty wields an admirable blade in the field 
 and at the table." 
 
 "And does the king eat alone here also?" 
 
 "Yes, and the court stand at a distance. Six nbble- 
 man serve him. The princes and princesses of the ., 
 blood may now seat themselves at a little distance. A 
 circle of the fairest women of France stand behind 
 them, while during the supper soft music, sounding 
 from a distance, by no means disturbs conversation. 
 After the king has taken supper in this manner, he 
 rises and with "him, of course, all who \yere seated. 
 Two guards and a doorkeeper now precede him, and 
 he enters his bedchamber. Thereupon begins the 
 *1)etit coucher,'' to which the 'grandes* and 'secandes 
 entries^^ as well as the favorites, remain." 
 
 "Again," exclaimed the youth with astonishment. 
 
 "Again," repeated the uncle, "until the first stroke 
 of midnight, and till then the privilege of being in • 
 the presence of the greatest and most powerful monarch 
 of the world is made the most of. Requests and pe- 
 titions are presented, flatteries and calumnies uttered, 
 marks of favor sought for, and enemies overthrown. 
 When the king speaks to one of those present, all the 
 
 lb 
 
 
.rv"* viz 
 
 ^;5f'v*.v,' 
 
 ■^^''^^ 
 
 36 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 Others withdraw. The clock strikes, the ladies bow 
 low and retire, and the king goes to bed.** 
 
 . "Freedom at last then. " 
 
 "Not so fast. The valet now receives His Majesty's 
 watch, and the relics which he always wears for pro- 
 tection against daggers and poisons, and his orders; — 
 two chevaliers then unfasten his garters, two valets, 
 one on each side, draw off his small clothes, shoes, and 
 stockings, two pages from the oldest families hand 
 him h?s slippers. At that moment the dauphin ap- 
 proaches and offers the king his night shirt, which the, 
 master of the wardrobe has warmed. And now — ** 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Now comes the moment for the greatest favors. 
 
 "Now? I should think the tormented man would 
 get into bed?" j 
 
 "The monarch now selects from the gentlemen the 
 fortunate one who is permitted to light him to bed 
 with the well-known silver candlesticks and two 
 lighted candles. The doorkeeper calls: 'Retire, 
 gentlemen.' Those present withdraw, the favored one 
 precedes the king with the lights and the king goes to 
 bed, the royal physician then inquires concerning His 
 Majesty's health and one day of the king' s life is over* " 
 
 "And this is repeated daily?" asked the youth de- 
 spondently. 
 
 "Daily, one is like another," replied Captain de Torcy. 
 
 "Then," exclaimed the youth with a sad smile — then I 
 I would not wish to be a king 1" 
 - . - I \ i ' ■ ■■ 
 
^r^'^2':'^' \ 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 NEG PLURIBUS IMPAR. 
 
 At this moment the folding doors opened, and the 
 king came into the gallery. Every head was immedi- 
 ately barred, the ladies curtsied deeply, the gentlemen 
 bowed almost to the ground. Louis, his covered head 
 proudly raised, advanced gravely and solemnly. He 
 no longer wore the dress overloaded with gold and 
 precious stones, which had adorned him in the audience 
 at which he received the Persian ambassadors, but in- 
 stead a plain, blue frock coat — the blue coat which has 
 become historical. For in order, according to his 
 opinion, to reward personal services rendered to him, 
 Louis XIV had instituted a strange privilege at his 
 court; this privilege consisted in the distinction of 
 being allowed to wear a blue frock coat) such as the 
 king himself wore. The permission was conferred by 
 a diploma,, and was the more sought, because those 
 who wore the blue coat had the right to accompany 
 the king to the chase and in his promenades. But 
 what services were sometimes rewarded by this privi- 
 lege? Cond^, the victor of Rocroy, Sens and Nord- 
 linger, begged for this favor. He received it; but not 
 because he had won four great battles, and was vic- 
 
 8? 
 
 ■-.;i^:Aai!i:.&^ii^ 
 
 ■' ■<r:'JSi:^S:^iiiik'.-. 
 

 38 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 torious in twenty smaller engagements, but because he 
 * had humbly waited upon the king, with his napkin 
 over his arm, on the canal at Fontainebleau!* J 
 
 The king now approached de Torcy. The uncle pre- 
 sented his nephew to the monarch, he had wisely first 
 obtained a position for him in the body-guard. The 
 king graciously exchanged a few words with both; 
 then passed on, and after a few similar presentations 
 which lasted for a moment, disappeared within the 
 doors leading to the Royal chapel. Fame is a strange 
 thing. This was nowhere more true than at the court 
 of Louis XIV, whom flatterers called the "Great. " Did 
 not the whole court, princes and j)rincesses at its 
 head, bow before the king's mistresses? Did not the 
 queen even ride in the same carriage with la Valliere 
 and Madame de Montespan, till at last the people 
 shouted, "We want to see the ^Aree queens?" Did 
 not the queen consider herself fortunate if she was 
 received and invited to play cards by Mme. de Mon- 
 tespan, who retained her home toilette. Were not the 
 Montespan' s six children; the Due de Maine, the 
 Comte de Vexin, the Mademoiselles de Nantes, Tour, 
 and Blois, and the Comte de Toulouse, made legiti- 
 mate, in defiance of the French laws, and did not the 
 whole court treat them as princes and princesses of 
 the royal family? Did not the Marquis deVillei-ceaux 
 offer to win his nieces for the king, and were not these 
 nieces sorely disappointed because the king refused 
 
 * Louis XIV and his Century, iv. 186. 
 
 A^^jj^iA^riiii^iSS&'t, 
 
•s"»r 
 
 "NEC PLURIBUS JNPAR" ^ 
 
 the proposal? These were the ideas of honor and 
 greatness at the Court of Louis XIV! 
 
 To the credit of Gauthier it must be said, that his 
 heart and mind were still free from these sad errors. 
 
 The inexperienced young Frenchman was overpowered 
 by the intoxication of fame, and glory which the na- 
 tion drew from the bewildering appearance of the king. 
 Gauthier was young, warm blooded, and ambitious, 
 like every Frenchman — how could this tete-d-tUe with 
 the most powerful monarch of his time fail to excite 
 him? His face glowed -with color— his eyes sparkled; 
 resolution beamed from his features — while within 
 him a voice cried: "To be sure, I stand alone, and 
 walk without fame among men; but cannot one who 
 is a perfect man do more than hundreds who are only 
 parts of men? " And with an air of boldness and de- 
 termination he assured his uncle, that no aim should 
 be too high for him to strive after! 
 
 At this the captain smilingly stroked his beard. 
 Ventre-saint-grisrhe exclaimed, — "you are right; I 
 like to see such a spirit in youths, though. . . there is 
 flevertheless a but." 
 
 "A but?' asked Gauthier, 
 
 "Yes! and when we have left the palace and are sit- 
 ting over a bottle of wine in the wine-room at the 
 'Cardinal Richelieu' j — lam not on duty to-day; -r-I will 
 make this 'but' clear to you by a little story of the 
 past, or have you already heard in your ancestral rat- 
 nest at Limagne of the king's device 'nee pluribus 
 
A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 itnparf and the fate of the minister Fouquet?* | 
 
 "In our quiet little ancestral castle,** answered the 
 **youth smiling, though with a significant emphasis, 
 there are certainly many rats, but they have never 
 told me anything of the device *nec plurihus imj>arj" 
 
 "Well, come along then, my lad,** exclaimed the 
 captain, much pleased. **To-day is your day of honor, 
 and while we are sitting over our wine, you shall hear 
 the story, which must serve as a warning for your 
 whole life.** '. i 
 
 Half an hour after, the two were sitting at a large 
 oaken table in the drinking room of the "Cardinal 
 Richelieu" with an enormous bottle of wine before 
 them. The captain filled a glass, emptied it to 
 Gauthier's health, and then commenced. | 
 
 "Now attention, young manl We are alone, and so 
 you shall hear the story of *nec pluribus imparP** as a 
 warning! The omnipotent minister of Louis XIV, 
 Cardinal Mazarin, died. As soon as the king received 
 the news, he summoned the men who had been recom- 
 mended to him by Mazarin as his successors, iLe 
 Tellier Lyonne and Fouquet, and told them that 
 from this time he would reign himself.** | 
 
 "I like that in the king," exclaimed Gauthierien- 
 thusiastically, "whoever wishes fame in this world 
 must stand upon his own feet.** I 
 
 "Yes,** added the captain, — "and firmly too, that! he 
 may not fall at the first storm. But now do not inter- 
 rupt me, if I am to tell the stoiy.** 
 
•'NEC PLURIBUS IMPAR" 
 
 41 
 
 "I will be silent. " 
 
 "Very well," said the captain, emptied another 
 ^lass, and continued: "The men recommended by the 
 cardinal were wise — Fouquet was an excellent minis- 
 ter of finance who always knew how to open new 
 sources of supply under the most untoward circum- 
 stances." 
 
 "You jest, uncle!" exclaimed Gauthier merrily, for- 
 getting his newly made promise. "A Louis XIV can- 
 aot be in want of money?" 
 
 "Ventre saint grisT exclaimed the captain, "not the 
 king, but the country!" 
 
 "But this splendid court?" 
 
 "Young man! all that only glitters on the surface. 
 You will soon learn the proverb, 'all is not gold that 
 glitters!'" 
 
 "But France, France," cried the youth, "its re- 
 sources must still be inexhaustible. " 
 
 "Yes," said the captain gloomily, "if the good Car- 
 dinal Mazarin had not been its leech for twenty years. " 
 
 "The great Mazarin?" ' 
 
 "Oh! innocence!" exclaimed M. de Torcy, with an 
 ironical laugh, "the great Cardinal Mazarin was a 
 great rascal. To satisfy his ambition Mazarin betrayed 
 France, to satisfy his avarice he ruined it. He left 
 fifty millions at his death, and he had burled fifteen 
 millions in addition." 
 
 "But uncle," whispered Gauthier, "I thought tho 
 walls had ears herel" 
 
 ^x 
 
\ 
 
 ' .(jsp* v-? iS^yiSH-w TIjp 
 
 42 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 "Pah! " exclaimed the captain, "Mazarin is dead, 
 the king hated him, and the country curses him! But 
 we have wandered from Fouquet again. Fouquet was 
 an able financier; he had an admirable intellect, was 
 considered an excellent jurist, was finely educated, and 
 of noble manners. He also understood how to listen 
 and to reply, two qualities one seldom meets in a min- 
 ister. He knew how to answer people who came beg- 
 ging so pleasantly that he could dismiss them almost 
 satisfied, without opening his own or the state treas- 
 ury. Generous towards scholars whom he knew how 
 to criticise and reward according to their deserts, he 
 was the friend of Racine, La Fontaine arid Moli^re, the 
 Macacnas of Lebrun and le Notre. Unfortunately, 
 Fouquet flattered himself that he could lead the young 
 king as Mazarin had done, while at the same time, he 
 would diminish his work, care for his pleasures, and 
 help him in his love affairs. See, my lad, this was 
 the stumbling block of his ambition. The king wanted 
 no second Mazarin, and so hatred towards Fouquet 
 became rooted in his heart." 
 
 The captain took a long draught and then continued. 
 "But Fouquet suffered not only from the hatred of 
 the king, but also from the envy of the princes and the 
 court, for he was enormously rich and his influence in 
 the country grew from day to day. Then the unfort- 
 unate idea of surprising the king occurred to the min- 
 ister; he would exceed the little festivals at Fontaine- 
 bleau, would show Louis XIV what splendor, taste. 
 
 b^Qi^W.^:^}.^ 
 
 Li'AtiL'Q'::itlni-:'::Lyi-liAiii:-,'^^ Sii 
 
"NEC PLURIBUS IMPAR" 43 • -n 
 
 ;^ 
 
 and luxury could do. So Fouquet invited the king 
 and his whole court to his castle of Vaux." 
 
 "Then the castle of Vaux was very large and beau- 
 tiful? " asked Gauthier. 
 
 "Well, young man!" said the captain, "you can judge 
 of that by what it cost." 
 
 "And how much did it cost?" 
 "It cost Fouquet fifteen million livres. " 
 "Fifteen millions!" exclaimed the youth, staring 
 with astonishment. 
 
 "Fifteen millions," answered the captain quietly. 
 "The king went. He was accompanied by a company 
 of musketeerSf under command of Monsieur d'Artag- 
 nan. The court followed, as all were invited who 
 could make claim to any distinction. La Fontaine 
 was appointed to describe the festival, Benserade to 
 celebrate it by song. A prologue was to be recited by 
 Pelisson, and a comedy by Moli^re to be performed, 
 for Fouquet discovered the talents of Moli^re and La 
 Fontaine before Louis XIV did. The king was re- 
 ceived at the gates of the palace by its owner. He 
 entered; the whole court followed him. In a moment 
 the magnificent alleys, the lawn, steps and windows 
 were covered and filled by young nobles, delic^e and 
 beautiful women and maidens. It was a delightful 
 panoirama — which I shall never forget, for I was with 
 the king's escort — it was a delightful panorama of trees 
 and glistening fountains; a charming, sunny horizon 
 of blooming, flowery life — as one of the poets present 
 
 I rr Itf [fliiiirriTlitttMilliiitlifiliilimf ^ 
 
44 , A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 said — and yet in the midst of all this joy, a great 
 hatred, a great revenge brooded in the rustling of the 
 wind which moved the leaves. If Fouquet's fall had 
 not already been determined upon by the king, thede~ 
 cision would have been made at Vaux; for Louis XIV, 
 whose deyice is 'nee pluribus impar*, could not brook 
 that a man of lower origin should outshine hifn .in 
 splendor. According to the will of Louis XIV no one 
 in the whole kingdom must dare to equal him in splen- 
 dor, fame and love. As there is only one sun in 
 heaven, so there must be only one king* in France. 
 Ventre saint gris" exclaimed the qaptain, "there His 
 Majesty was right. Long live Louis XIV!" j 
 
 The glasses clinked, and uncle and nephew drank 
 to the king's health. - 
 
 "And Fouquet?" asked the youth, not without sym- 
 pathy. 
 
 "If any one could have looked into the monarch's 
 heart, " continued Monsieur de Torcy, "he would have 
 read fearful wrath towards the subject who dared to 
 receive the king more magnificently than the king 
 could have received him in any part of his kingdom. 
 The king's wrath was increased by other aid; the 
 hatredffnd envy of the minister Colbert fanned the 
 monarch's anger as a breath of wind kindles a flame. 
 
 *'But mark further. The fountains began to play. 
 Fouquet had bought and destroyed three villages 
 merely to enable him to lead the water from a cir- 
 cuit of five miles, into the marble basins of the castle 
 
^pi^s^'^^^'^^fSBfP^i^pa^^^fTss^ 
 
 V "NEC PLURIBUS IMPAR 45 
 
 of Yaux. Every one was enchanted, carried away 
 with delight. The king ground his teeth. 
 
 "At the appearance of the first star, a bell sounded. 
 All the water ceased to play; the tritons, the dol- 
 phins, the gods of Olympus, as well as those of the 
 sea, the nymphs of the woods, ceased their noisy res- 
 pirations; the falling waterdrops once more disturbed 
 the clearness of the surface, and then followed a rest 
 which was to last forever, for the breath of the king's 
 anger was wafted over it. One enchantment now fol- 
 lowed another." 
 
 "Enchantment?" asked the youth holding his breath. 
 
 "Yes!" said his uncle, "at least so it appeared. We 
 entered the castle, covered tables came down from the 
 ceiling; a subterranean, mysterious music was heard, 
 and when the dessert appeared, the company were more 
 than ever delighted by a movable mountain of con- 
 fectionary which— by some mechanism, which to this 
 day I cannot comprehend — passed from one guest to 
 another." 
 
 Gauthier stared, but the captian continued: ' The 
 king now allowed Fouquet to show him the apart- 
 ments of the castle, which by its splendid illumination 
 rivaled the brightness of noonday. Louis — and that is 
 saying a great deal— had never seen anything to equal 
 it. He perceived pictures from a master hand which 
 he did not know; gardens, the work of a man who 
 made pictures from trees and flowers, and whose name 
 had never come to his ear till now. But Fouquet drew 
 
 M 
 
46 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 the king's attention to all this in hopes to excite his 
 admiration — to impress him and render him pliant,!. . . 
 but. . . the thoughtless man only aroused the envy and 
 hatred of the monarch more and more." 
 
 "I tremble for him!" said the youth. 
 
 "Learn rather from this imprudence of the wisest 
 man in France, to be wiser than he!" said the captain. 
 "But listen to the rest. Now comes the point." 
 
 "What is the name of your architect?" asked the 
 king. : . 
 
 "Levau, Sire," replied the minister of finance.; 
 
 "Your painter?" 
 
 "Lebrun." 
 
 "Your gardener?" 
 
 'Le Notre, your Majesty." 
 
 "Louis XIV remembered these three names, at that 
 time still unknown to him, now so celebrated, and 
 went on. He was dreaming of Versailles. | 
 
 "Then came the moment when the consequences of 
 a too great and bold ambition drew the lightning of 
 revenge upon the head of the unfortunate man. 
 
 "They had entered a magnificent, broad gallery — 
 the one in the castle which we were in to-day is copied 
 from it. The king — accidentally looking up to the 
 ceiling — noticed the Fouquet arms, which were in the 
 four corners; a squirrel with the device 'Que non as- 
 cendom.^ (Where can I not ascend?) 
 
 "Louis XIV turned pale. An angry glance shot 
 from his eyes. He made a gesture to me, and ordered 
 
 il'Sii! ,■.>--. '£L:::^-i£^^': 
 
 C«-V.*Jfst^.It»;.._#i.. ._^^-W.Cj**4t4fcji^ 
 
"NEC PLURIBUS IMPAR** 47 
 
 me to call Monsieur d'Artagnan, the commander of the 
 musketeers. But the queen mother and Mademoi- 
 selle de la Valli^re, then the favorite ladylove of the 
 king, both of whom were close behind the monarch, 
 perceived the coming storm. They separated the king 
 from the ministre in some clever way, and begged him 
 so earnestly to remember the ingratitude which would 
 lie in repaying such a grand reception by such a course, 
 that Louis deferred his revenge. 
 
 "Fouquet suspected nothing. The court noW went 
 to the theater in which Moli^re's 'Les Fcuheux' was 
 brought out for the first time. The king was highly 
 amused. After the theater there were fireworks, and 
 after the fireworks a ball. Louis XIV himself danced 
 often with Mademoiselle de la Valli^re, who beamed 
 like a fairy rose in the fullness of her beauty, and in 
 the thought of having restrained her royal lover from 
 an unworthy action really resembled an angel. 
 
 "Yes, yes!" exclaimed the captain. "Venire saint 
 ^ris, the picture of the charming La Valli^re, and the 
 memories of my youth made me forget the rest of my 
 story. At three o'clock in the morning the court de- 
 parted. Fouquet accompanied the king to the gates 
 at which he had received him. 'My lord,' said the 
 king to his host as he left him, 'I shall never dare to 
 invite yon to be my guest again; you would be too 
 poorly lodged,' and Louis XIV returned to Fontaine* 
 bleau. He could only console himself for the hu- 
 ;|niliation tp yvhich the minister had . subjected 
 
 LiLC:ffi.<£^i^ki^&l^»£. , ..... '....li^ 
 
48 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 him, Idv the firm resolve to ruin the insolent man.* 
 "And did the king carry out this resolve?" asked 
 
 the young, man almost breathless. i 
 
 "In a few days the Bastille lodged another unfortu- 
 nate prisoner to die in solitary confinement. It was — 
 Fouquet." ! 
 
 The captain was silent, and hastily emptied the last 
 beaker. Gauthier, too, was silent. I 
 
 "Come, my boy," said the captain at last, as he 
 threw the money for the wine on the table, "and ob- 
 serve two things, first, that a strong healthful aspira- 
 tion is seemly in j'outh. ' Without this aspiration a 
 man is a coward, and a despicable nothing. Second, 
 that precipitation makes flaws, and pride comes before 
 a fall. 'Nee pluribus impar' is the king's device, 
 and this motto perfectly describes him and his charac- 
 ter.. ■ ■ I _ 
 
 Gauthier gazed gloomily into vacancy. "How differ- 
 ently I pictured many things at this court," he said 
 softly.. 
 
 M. de Torcy smiled. "Ah! my lad!" he exclaimed, 
 "you will find many things in life different from what 
 you thought them to be," and "therewith uncle and 
 nephew left the drinking-room of the "Cardinal Rich- 
 e/ieu." 
 
 *ja.««^^^-^^ ...C>.i,i>x.^^'C.'lx_»i.^.^-.'3S:i^!^a^iki£:&&;^2Ull.£utt 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE MARQUISE DE MONTESPAN AND LQUVOIS. 
 
 The Maquise de Montespan, Fran9oise Athenais. do 
 Rochechouart — till now the omnipotent mistress of 
 King Louis XIV — sat at a window in Marlj' le Roi, 
 bowed in sorrow and lost in thought, gazing sadly at 
 the setting sun. Was she thinking of the past . . . . 
 of the instability and decay of all earthly grandeur? 
 Was she wondering what would become of this proud 
 Marly le Roi at the end of another half century? 
 
 At the left the road leads toward Versailles, at the 
 right lies the village of Marly, which stretches out to 
 the Belvedere, while the base of the triangle is bounded 
 by the beautiful wood which that lovely morning more 
 than a hundred and fifty years ago, was brought hither 
 fresh and full grown from Compiegne. The pavilions 
 of the twelve signs of the zodiac were connected by 
 magnificent arbors and walks, through .which the 
 beams of the sun could not penetrate. Nearest to the 
 sun (the pavilion of the, king) were those for the 
 princes of the royal family and the ministers; the 
 others were for the officers of the court and persons in- 
 vited to Marly. The frescoes which decorated the 
 walls w^re painted by the njost celebrated artists of 
 4 49 
 
 fc:At--r: . - .^tA--li^,M 
 
/^H""i': 
 
 •^1.-, j^^ '■2WT>if^r'V'f^^s^^,^;;w^'!if)K^gif!^^^^^^^ 
 
 50 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 the time Louis XIV pictures which represented 
 the joys of the immortal inhabitants of Olym- 
 pus, and heightened the happiness of earthly divini- 
 ties. On the opposite side, was the great fountain 
 whose stream ascended to the height of a hundred and 
 fifty feet. Fouquet languished in prison, but Louis 
 XIV had learned something from his visit to Vaux. 
 In the middle of the triangle, at the right and left of 
 the king's pavilion, were the rooms of the hundred 
 Swiss and the kitchen and apartments for the number- 
 less retinue. Statues, fountains, parterres of flowers, 
 and cascades, were found on every hand. Louis XIV, 
 who had changed the simple palace of Saint Germain 
 for magnificent Versailles, the sweet illusions of youth 
 for the ambitious dreams of a riper age, and the 
 delicate La Vallifere for the proud Montespan, bega« 
 one day to be wearied of the world a^nd its bustle, 
 and convinced himself, as Saint Simon says, that he 
 sometimes longed for solitude. The buildings with 
 their pure, colossal lines, the large gardens with their 
 stiff, angular paths and clipped trees, among which an 
 army of courtiers, pages and lackeys incessantly 
 wandered, had in a great measure lost their charms for 
 him, since the lovely Valliere no longer enlivened 
 them. 
 
 On the day when the king awoke for the first time 
 full of these thoughts, the usually proud, haughty ex- 
 pression of his face was softened by a slight touch of 
 sadness. On this day the chase was countermanded, 
 
 »*- ♦ 
 
 l^^kMi^ii^^^^-'^^^^''' 
 
THE MARQUISE DE MONTESPAN AND LOUVOIS 5I 
 
 and contrary to his habit, Louis XI V entered his 
 carriage without inviting any of the~ beautiful ladies, 
 who were his daily escort. Only accompanied by some 
 of his confidential .friends^ he left Versailles, after 
 giving directions to drive to the most sequestered en- 
 virons of Paris. The carriage stopped at the pleasant 
 chain of hills of Liiciennes, and the king alighted. 
 One of the courtiers, who had probably been made 
 aware of the intention of this ride, approached and 
 said respectfully : "Sire, your Majesty would scarcely 
 find a better position for the erection of a palace." 
 
 "That is very true," answered the king, "but it is 
 not what I seek — I have already spent too much in 
 building, and this beautiful situation would demand 
 expenditures which would be ruinous. We will go 
 farther, gentlemen. Do you see that valley with the 
 little village on the brow of the hill? Ah! what re- 
 pose — how quietly life must flow here! I feel that 
 this place would satisfy me!' 
 
 "Sire," said the courtier, "your Majesty has not 
 probably noticed that this valley is very narrow, and on 
 account of the surrounding hills, entirely without a 
 prospect, at the same time the approaches are so rug- 
 ged that it would be very hard to reach it." 
 
 "All of which I seek!" answered Louis, "I wish for 
 a place where it is impossible to build anything but 
 a hermitage, which I may occasionally visit in order 
 to leave the world and the court. A nothing would 
 satisfy me. What is the name of this village?" 
 
52 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 "Marly, Sire." 
 
 "Well, gentlemen, once or twice a year we will 
 visit the hermitage of Marly in atonement for our sins. " 
 
 That evening, immediately after his return from the 
 drive, the king sent for Mansard and commanded him 
 to go to work at once and draw up the plan for his 
 hermitage. But this hermitage this — nothing — cost 
 over a thousand millions. *! 
 
 A thousand millions, as Saint Simon says, to beau- 
 tify the refuge of snakes, toads, and frogs, and make it ' 
 accessible to the distinguished world. But what is a 
 thousand millions to the caprice of a king! i 
 
 The Marquise de Montespan sat bowed in sorrow 
 and lost in thought at one of the windows of Marly 
 de Roi. gazing sadly at the setting sun. Was she 
 thinking of the past— of the instability and decay of" 
 all earthly grandeur, or was it the sad change which 
 now threatened her own fate, that occupied her thoughts? 
 The glory of the gentle, affectionate La Valliere, so 
 passionately loved by the king, had faded. Louis XIV 
 had wearied of her likewise, and sent the mother of 
 his children — Maria de Bourbon and the Comte de 
 Vermandis — in the thirtieth year of her age to the 
 cloister of the Carmelites in the suburb of Saint Ger- 
 main, where the poor, loving heart of Sister Louise 
 de la Misericorde was now slowly bleeding. ; 
 
 Did not such a fate now stand before the Marquise 
 de Montespan, notwithstanding her six children, 
 who shone at the court of Versailles as legiti- 
 
 4 
 
 . Stt^&Si:^^^^^ 
 
 ^i.,^:.nii^..-.k ---T:. •■<:■ \-_:^, Vt^i.^^.^e^4^^i^^S^irf?■e^;;fc^■l■';=g;<g.;>^i|•J^>- ■■ ,.^-,. 
 
THE MARQUISE DE MONTESPAN AND LOUVOIS 53 
 
 mate princes and princesses? The marquise was, to 
 be sure, thirty-nine years old, but these years had not 
 effaced the traces of her once exquisite beauty, and 
 moreover her former vigor of mind still remained, but 
 the natural merriment and joyousness which had char- 
 acterized Fran9oise, when she was introduced to the 
 king by the Duchesse de la Valliere had, with time,^ 
 given place to excessive love of money, moodiness, 
 obstinacy, and desire to rule — attributes which grad- 
 ually, without her knowledge, made her wearisome to 
 the king. The Duchesse d'Orleans had lately said 
 "the Montespan is a living devil, but so droll and 
 amusing that time does not hang heavily in her com- 
 pany." 
 
 The most perishable thing on earth is the favor of 
 kings and princes. She herself, though married to the 
 Marquis de Montespan, had overthrown La Valliere, 
 and must she not expect her own fall, for Louis XIV, 
 the most glowing and passionate, but also the most 
 inconstant of lovers, began to neglect her. 
 
 She felt only too well that her influence was de- 
 creasing, that the sun of her happiness, like the earthly 
 sun, was sinking. But she could not bear the thought 
 of parting with her power, of stepping back from the 
 dizzy height of a mistress of Louis XIV. The vic- 
 tories of Madame de Soubise and Madame de Ludre 
 did not annoy her. The marquise had long been ac- 
 customed to occasional, passing unfaithfulness, in her 
 royal lover. And the shoit reign of Madame de Soubise 
 
 
A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 had already reached its end. A petty court scandal— - 
 such as at that time often occurred — had soon shattered 
 it. One evening the queen awaited her husband at an 
 appointed hour in vain. Very uneasy at his non-ap-^ 
 pearance, she sent everywhere in the palace and the 
 city for His Majesty, but in vain. His Majesty was 
 not found till the next morning. This insult to the 
 queen made a great sensation. Everyone was talking 
 about it; Madame de Soubise among others. The 
 latter even went further, and in the presence of the 
 queen, mentioned a lady with whom the interview had 
 taken place. The queen, who was very indignant^ 
 told His Majesty the name. Louis denied it, the 
 queen assured him that she had been well informed, as 
 Madame de Soubise had told her. j 
 
 "Well then, if that is the case," answered His 
 Majesty quietly, "I will tell you with whom I was.; 
 No other than Madame de Soubise herself. If I wish 
 to speak to her, I place a diamond ring on my little 
 finger; if she will permit it she puts on emerald ear- 
 rings." In consequence of this petty court scandal 
 Madame de Soubise was dismissed. 
 
 From her, therefore, the marquise had nothing fur-i 
 ther to fear, and equally little from Madame de Liidre,! 
 who was now in favor. She possessed beauty, butj 
 neither intellect nor the talent to fascinate perma-l 
 nently. | 
 
 Very different would be the case if chance, or any! 
 intrigue, should throw into the hands of Louis XIV a 
 
 &^ mi:^Vk,m 
 
^'W.'^r ' 5SS^'«|^SE^|^S«?p\'««.sisE^^i? 
 
 THE MARQUISE DE MONTESPAN AND LQUVOIS 55 
 
 woman who understood how to fasten the king to her- 
 self by strong bands, and to rule him by her intellect and 
 wit. In such a case the marquise would be lost, and 
 it would be but too easily with her as with those whom 
 she had overthrown; the gloomy walls of a cloister 
 might yet be her living grave. It is no trifle to lay 
 down a scepter. One who is accustomed to rule can- 
 not so easily step down into the obscurity of common 
 life — the grave of oblivion. 
 
 And then — was not Louvois, the ambitious minister, 
 secretly working to accomplish her fall, because he 
 wished to rule the king alone? True, no one as yet 
 ruled Louis XIV, but many were constantly striving 
 to attain this end : the marquise, Madame de Ludre, 
 Louvois and the Due de Saint Aignan, the king's 
 favorite. And had not the crafty Louvois partially 
 obtained control over the king? 
 
 Fran9ois Michel le Tellier, Marquis de Louvois, the 
 son of Chancellor le Tellier, was in his youth so com- 
 pletely given up to the gratification of his passions 
 and dissipation, that his bwn father considered him 
 incapable of entering upon public life with success. 
 But Louvois reflected upon his position, and unex- 
 pectedly developed the most distinguished talents. It 
 was one of those many changes which often occur in 
 prominent persons. The faults of youth had passed — 
 in their stead appeared an unbounded desire for fame 
 and respect And he had, in truth, the talents to at- 
 tain them. To the most intense activity and a fine 
 
 , __ ; — , - _ » — i . 
 
 ,£ 
 
p»^-;<Hi^^gp^ wtiHppfeii; 
 
 56 
 
 A ROYAL R06B£:& 
 
 memory were added even when a youth, and much 
 more when the man approached maturity, a quick 
 glance, a piercing sagacity, and a firm will. But this 
 will was only the effluence of a still greater ambition, 
 and to it he sacrificed everything; the happiness of 
 millions, his honor, and even himself. 
 
 So lolig as Louis XIV held the rudder of state with 
 an iron hand, the young secretary of state did not dare 
 to overstep the bounds of a pupil; but the crafty man 
 knew how to gain the full confidence of his monarch 
 by wise counsels, mostly advantageous to himself, 
 though retaining the appearance of a courtier. He 
 felt that the talent of a general rested in him; he 
 perceived that the king was his as soon as he could 
 involve him in a continued war. Thus the Marquis 
 de Louvois knew how to gradually exjtend his power 
 over the army and its ruler. Good fortune and the 
 will of Louis XIV made him minister of war, which 
 was what the ambitious man had in view. Into every 
 department of militiary affairs' Louvois now brought 
 order and unity. The wise ' Colbert , had saved the 
 state treasury millions, Louvois gave France the 
 largest and best arm5\ He was certain of victory, the 
 power of Louis and the pride of the whole nation 
 would be flattered. Two campaigns in Flanders and 
 France*s Comt^, gave the signal for a series of bloody 
 combats, which soon made the French name univerj* 
 sally feared. France was victorious in both cases; 
 Louvois had the means ready, and his influence witl^ 
 
 j: :£sr^d'£;d^'!i^i.uj4c:;»^Jlj.^^3. 
 
r -raew^jjr-- 
 
 THE MARQUISE PE MONTESPAN AND LOUVOIS 
 
 57 
 
 the king increased. The minister had craftily calcu- 
 lated that these two years of war would be the pro- 
 logue of an extended struggle, and therefore involved 
 the king in plans from which he could not easily 
 recede, especially without the assistance of the minis- 
 ter of war. 
 
 From this moment Louvois was necessary to Louis 
 XIV. A new war with the States of Holland followed. 
 
 The peace of Nymwegen, dictated by Louis XIV, 
 ended it after a struggle of six years, during which 
 Louvois had led France to the summit of its power^ 
 and almost the half of Europe had been called to 
 arms. What mattered it that thousands were beggared 
 and that the blooming Pfalz — that rich and beautiful 
 garden of Germany — had been barbarously desolated 
 aftd burnt, and changed into a smoking waste dripping 
 with blood, 
 
 Ujpon Louvois fell the curses of numberless un- 
 
 '>■ 
 
 fortunates for if one could pardon the severity 
 with which the marquis had treated all who were de- 
 feated, still the ineffaceable stigma rested upon him, 
 not only that he suffered the horrible crimes, but even, 
 with inhuman coldness and cruelty, commanded them 
 in the Netherlands at Trier, in Savoy, and especially 
 in the Pfalz. The Pfalz should, according to his 
 shameful policy, be changed into an eternal desert and 
 waste, in order to secure the boundaries of France 
 against Germany. 
 
 Since Louvois, as well as his king, mistook false 
 
'•«" 
 
 58 
 
 '■'■"■^■^^.■^''n''^!!''i'mw^^P^^^^^^^T^^^'fWf^^^w^ 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 "v • 
 
 fame for the true, he was obliged to resort to con- 
 temptible measures to serve bad ends, and justice, laws, 
 treaties and oaths, appeared to him as trifles, which 
 a great ruler might trample upon at pleasure. j 
 
 Such was the situation of affairs at the time of our 
 story — the time at which the star of the Marquise de 
 Montespan began to pale. By her downfall Louvois 
 hoped to obtain the sole command of the king, especi- 
 ally as the latter was becoming wearied of the per- 
 sonal control of the helm of state, and preferred to 
 seek rest in the arms of a beautiful woman. On the 
 one side a war had commenced between the Monte- 
 span and Louvois, a secret, but therefore all the more 
 bitter one, and on the other the crafty minister was 
 involving the ambitious king in new plans against 
 Germany and Alsace, in order to hold him firmly and 
 safely in his hands for the rest of his life. In order 
 to hold the king and keep him dependant upon him, 
 Louvois had persuaded him that France must possess 
 Alsace, till now a part of Germany. The safety of 
 the kingdom and the greatness and honor of the 
 French crown required it. Let the upper Rhine once 
 become the boundary between France and Germany, 
 and the lower Rhine must in consequence become so 
 too. 
 
 Was anything more required to awake and inflame 
 the ambition of a prince so eager to acquire territory 
 as Louis XIV? The only question was; how this 
 robbery should be effected? The answer to it was not 
 
 ,. > Mj^i..^tiidjHll&iaMi»-j!^S!i»&s^SAsikil^akili&i 
 
THE MARQUISE DE MONTESPAN AND LOUVOIS 59 
 
 difficult for Louvois: by force, but under the appear- 
 ance and veil of justice. 
 
 Louis XIV and Louvois soon came to an under- 
 ,standing, and the minister of war wept to work. It 
 was in this very apartment at Marly, in which the 
 Marquise de Montespan, lost in sad and serious 
 thoughts, sat watching the setting sun, that Louis XIV 
 had held a secret council with Louvois a few days be- 
 fore. 
 
 The king and the minister met for'that purpose in 
 His Majesty's pavilion. They were alone, Captain de 
 Torcy guarded the door. Louis, with his head covered, 
 sat upon a costly seat, Le Tellier, Marquis de Louvois, 
 stood with uncovered heads a little on one side. Eti- 
 quette did not permit the ministers to sit at any coun- 
 cil at which Louis was present. 
 
 "And what is to be done next?" said Louis in his 
 slow, sharply accented speech, concealing one hand 
 under the gold brocade vest, and fixing his piercing 
 glance upon the marquis, who stood before His 
 Majesty in an humble attitude, and with an expression 
 of the deepest submission. 
 
 "Sire," answered Louvois solemnly, "I am sure of 
 my cause." 
 
 "And you think the hour has come, marquis?" asked 
 the king. 
 
 " "Yes, your Majesty," continued the minister, "the 
 fruit is ripe, Louis XIV, whpm the world justly calls 
 the 'great, ' Has only to put out his hand for it to fall. " 
 
 ^^Sisa.afefekiia& aa, . ^^• ,,k> j6f»ifTi4tga;a ^.^-;i- •- ., 
 
w'.**J'Ufiff|;>*^|| 
 
 60 A ROYAL ROBBER j 
 
 "And the German Empire, and Spain?" 
 
 "Were never weaker than now; your Majesty is 
 thoroughly aware of the discord prevailing in Ger- 
 many." 
 
 "Yes, yes, we know it!" said the king. "We know 
 this foolish division right well, and truly we have not 
 failed to feed the envy of the German princes towards 
 their emperor by bribery and diplomatic arts.' f 
 
 "And this bribery and these diplomatic arts have 
 worked excellently everywhere," continued Louvois, in 
 a tone of bitter scorn, while the royal smile at the 
 same time found a faint reflection in his usually stern, 
 strong features. "At every step which he may attempt, 
 the hands of the German emperor are bound. He can- 
 not reckon with safety on three of the Imperial princes. 
 First of allSwabia and Bavaria are ours, Brandenburg 
 causes him anxiety, and Leopold himself — " 
 
 "Is weak," exclaimed the king with a proud flash 
 of his eyes." Leopold I, is born to be a good father, 
 but not an emperor. He has a gentle, mild, indus- 
 trious nature, great memory, and much knowledge — 
 but not the unity and strength of character required by 
 a ruler. " 
 
 "Sire," said Le Tellier, with a low bow, "rulers like 
 Louis XIV, are shining and flaming 'Flowers of Peru' 
 in the garden of History. It requires not a century, 
 but hundreds of centuries to produce one." 
 
 "You are a flatterer, marquis," said the king well 
 pleased, "we intend indeed to do honor to our motto 
 
 
THE MARQUISE DE MONTESPAN AND LOUVOIS 6l 
 
 'nec pluribus impar.' We consider the moment fav- 
 orable to the carrying out of our great plans for the 
 /^ honor and fame of France. The impotency of Ger- 
 many and Spain is visible, and England is weakened 
 by the foolish quarrel of her king with his own sub- 
 jects. Well then, we will boldly confront this divided, 
 weakened and timorous people. First of all we will 
 occupy the good credulous Germans with some diplo- 
 matic affair, a congress perhaps. Then, while they 
 are discussing for months in what order of rank the 
 delegates shall sit at table or in what chairs we 
 will act." 
 
 "Sire!" exclaimed Louvois, affecting to be aston- 
 ished at the king's words, to which he had himself in 
 a former consultation given the impulse. "Sire, what 
 an excellent thought! Prove to the world by its exe- 
 cution, that a great monarch has not to question tri- 
 fling scruples when his enlightened mind shows him 
 the way to make the people prosper." 
 
 "Marquis!" said Louis after g. few moments and a 
 cloud darkened his brow, "the way we intend to take 
 cannot be that of strict justice." 
 
 "The welfare of the state is the justice of the king," 
 answered Louvois significantly. 
 
 Again there was a short pause, then the king re- 
 peated slowly and with a sharp emphasis, "The wel- 
 fare of the state is the justice of the king!" and 
 Louis bowed his head with joyous assent, then a beam- 
 ing glance met the minister of war, and the king said: 
 
 fe«iyilfa>Mi»rt^hg4lfffillfl>ii^^ - - i!i.'-^^^..au:&S: '.yiriJk...Mi,..,- 
 
^^""f^ . ', "^'"i';^'*^i*^»tt78jp'Tr;^'5l^BWirfsi«'-^^^ 
 
 62 
 
 A feOVAL ROBBfeft 
 
 "Marquis! you solicited us for the privilege of the 
 coat; we graciously grant it to youj the decree shall 
 be issued to-morrow." 
 
 "Your Majesty," exclaimed the delighted Louvois, 
 and bending his knee before the king, he kissed the 
 monarch's hand with overflowing gratitude. 
 
 "But," now continued Louis, "we must at least have 
 a semblance of justice in the eyes of the world, in 
 order to tear Alsace from the German Empire and in- 
 corporate it in France." 
 
 "Your Majesty has the best army Europe can pro- 
 duce," said Louvois. 
 
 "Yes," answered the king, "and the blessing of the 
 church is also something, Alsace must become Cath- 
 olic again." 
 
 "The admiration of the world cannot therefore es- 
 cape your Majesty!" continued the minister. "Who- 
 ever has the power of arms and the church- upon his 
 side is in the right with the majority of people. The 
 broader and higher claims will content a diplomatic 
 sophist." 
 
 "The Westphalian treaty," said the king slowly, 
 seeming to ponder over every word he spoke, "has, 
 to be sure, given the bishoprics of Metz, Toul and 
 Verdun, the district of Hagenau, and the sovereignty 
 of Pignerol, the Sundgan and Breisach to the crown 
 of France, with the condition, however, that 
 the bishops of Strassburg, thecity of Strassburg itself, 
 the ten other noted imperial cities of Alsace, four 
 
 ^t,-v£!%.%ii^>l^.Mi^: 
 
 i.^^t, "■" .■■ -J- *■»..''• ..■'■-••t.......>— ■rf<..fe-a;.«ita.3'«.B.»aLiaAij«m^ 
 
m^^^'i^^^^fv^.'Tr'fx^e'- 
 
 THE MARQUISE DE MONTESPAN AND LOUVOIS 63 
 
 abbeys, as well as the counts and gentlemen of 
 Lutzelstein, Hanau, Fleckenstein and Oberstein, to- 
 gether with the knights of the empire, should remaio 
 firm in their allegiance to the German Empire. The 
 treaty of Nymwegen has made no change! " 
 
 "Because France wisely left the question of Alsace 
 
 open," replied Louvois with light scorn. "Your Maj- 
 
 *^sty's penetration had the present day then in view, 
 
 as before, in the marriage of the Spanish Infanta, hef 
 
 inheritance." ^^ 
 
 "Hush, marquis!" said the king with a cunning 
 look at the minister, "hush, betray nothing before the 
 time. Procure for us rather a plausible pretence of 
 justice under which we could incoporate Alsace into 
 our good France. " 
 
 "I have one your Majesty," answered the marquis. 
 
 "Louvois!" exclaimed the king joyously. "You are 
 a man of the pattern we like!" 
 
 "Then I am the happiest of mortals." 
 
 "But the pretext?" 
 
 "It is as good as the right itself.*' 
 
 "Speak." 
 
 "Well then. Sire," continued the marquis, "as your 
 Majesty knows the weakness of the German and Span- 
 ish Empires, the dissensions of the former, and the 
 envy of the German princes towards their emperor, 
 which has been excellently nourished bj' bribery and 
 diplomatic skill, your Majesty will not be obliged to 
 abstain from taking unconditionally, and notwith- 
 
 ^'.ia£^£^^^llun;y.>!.„i>... ... ^^4.k.-i_ . 
 
64 A ROYAL ROBBER i 
 
 standing the treaty of Nymwegen, all places and re- 
 gions of the German and Spanish boundaries which 
 you desire. Your Majesty in so doing will be entirely 
 in the right," 1 - 
 
 "Excellent! and the proof?" I 
 
 "I have intrusted an old pettifogger of the council 
 of Parliament, Roland Ravaulx in Metz, with the dis- 
 covery. ! 
 
 "We are curious. " ' 
 
 "Ravaulx by my direction, rummaged over some 
 old documents, and discovered that much land which 
 lies far and wide beyond the bishoprics of Metz, Toul 
 and Verdun, which have been ceded to France— for- 
 merly belonged to her." I ' 
 
 A crafty smile of assent passed over the king's features. 
 
 "And therefore^ " continued Louvois, "are included 
 as fiefs of the same." ! 
 
 "Excellent, marquis, excellent!" exclaimed the 
 king joyously. "Your Ravaulx may reckon upon a 
 princely reward. And what shall we call this 
 recovery of the former riglits, and the seizure of the 
 respective cities and provinces?" i 
 
 "I would humbly propose to your Majesty," said 
 the minister with a low bow, "to call this righteous 
 and perfectly lawful recovery, the 'Reunion.'" \ 
 
 "Reunion," repeated Louis with a gentle inclina- 
 tion of the head. "Reunion! yes, that is good! But 
 how shall we accomplish this 'Reunion' and take 
 legal posession?** 
 
 .1 ■»--i-«** ■ -^. ■ . »•->. - - ^ -- .'■■-. ...a-^--.'.^ ^-.^■. .»i£j;:-^^,fr A linifiaiifiirttiiiiffiiifiiifeM^liiiiitfiM^ 
 
niB MARQUISE £>S MONTESPAN AND LOUVCHS 
 
 65 
 
 "By your .Majesty's sovereign will. Be pleased. 
 Sire, to accept this elaborate plan, which I herewith 
 lay at the feet of my great king. ^ Separate courts of 
 justice, under the name of ^Chambers de Reunions* will 
 - be established, which will hold their sessions at Metz 
 and Breisach." ' " 
 
 "And these?" 
 
 These ^Chambers de Reunions* led by Ravaulx, will 
 then prove to the world that eighty of our fiefs are 
 iying in foreign countries, to which among others, be- 
 long Hamburg, Pont a Mousson, Salm, Saarburg, 
 Saarbrucken, Vaudemont, Hagenau and Weissenburg, 
 and the ten Alsatian imperial cities— that all these are 
 dependencies of the French possessions." 
 
 "Diable!" cried the king, "that is strong, the treaty 
 of Westphalia reserves most of them to the German 
 Empire!" ' 
 
 "If your Majesty accepts my plan!" answered the 
 .Marquis de Louvois, bowing respectfully, "*The Chant' 
 bres de Rewiion^ and your Majesty's humble minister 
 of war will so forcibly impress upon the world the 
 right of the French crown to these dependencies, that 
 in a short time all these cities will, without opposi- 
 tion, sparkle and glisten as precious brilliants in the 
 crown of Louis XIV." 
 
 "And if the inhabitants deny the claim?" 
 
 "Then remember. Sire, that you possess the greatest, 
 most powerful, and bravest army that Europe has to 
 show. ". 
 
 $ Robber 
 
"And if the Emperor and Kingdom and those con- 
 cerned cry out against us, and assail our throne with 
 complaints? " i 
 
 "Then will your Majesty's minister, Colbert de 
 Croissy, give answer to the bawlers that their griev- 
 ances are.no cabinet affairs, but a matter of justice, 
 therefore fhey must not turn to the government, but 
 to the congress at Metz and Breisach, " — and here a 
 truly diabolical mockery beamed from Louvois' ej^es, — 
 "which the king has instituted to prove to his neigh- 
 bors that he wishes to do no one an injustice!" i 
 
 "Good, very good!" said Louis with great satis- 
 faction. "And the Duchy of Zweibrucken? It is the 
 property of the king of Sweden." 
 
 "Will be occupied as a French fief by your Majesty's 
 faithful troops." 
 
 "And King Charles XI?" 
 
 "Invite him to appear before the *Chamhres de JR&' 
 tinions.*"' 
 
 "He will not come!" | 
 
 "Then the}^ will dispossess him of his Duchy." 
 
 "And the king of Spain, to whom the Principality 
 of Chimay, the city of Cortryk, and the Duchy of Lux- 
 emburg belong?" I 
 
 "He, too, will be summoned to the congress-^of 
 course will not appear . . . and will consequently 
 be deprived of his possessions." 
 
 "And Sirassburg" continued the king, after a few 
 moments, "Upon Strassburg, this pearl of the Ger- 
 
 _t_S.\«<«L^l£*4^^1* 
 
tHE MARQUISE DE MONTESPAN AND LOUVOIS 67 
 
 man cities — this important possession for Emperor 
 and Empire — this true German city, which is, more- 
 over, a little republic in itself — have you found a 
 claim for us upon this Strassburg? We confess that 
 its acquisition appears to us the most important and 
 desirable of the whole undertaking.** 
 
 "Your Majesty," answered Louvois shrugging his 
 shoulders, "with infinite regret I must confess: even 
 Ravaulxhas n6t found the slightest claim upon Strass- 
 burg." 
 
 The king knit his brows gloomily. "Then the whole 
 plan is worth nothing," said he angrily, "Strassburg, 
 above all, must belong to us. It is our will.** 
 
 "And it will belong to your Majesty," added the 
 marquis firmly and decidedly. "Will your Majesty 
 have the grace to entrust to me the incorporation of 
 this beautiful city into the kingdom of the great 
 Louis?" 
 
 "Be it so!" enclaimed the king rising. "But how 
 to begin?" 
 
 "As if there were no traitors, no bribery, no strata- 
 gem," said the minister, smiling craftily. 
 
 "Traitors?" asked the king, "who are they?* 
 
 "Prince Franz Egon of Furstenburg, bishop of 
 Strassburg!" announced Captain deTorcy at this mo- 
 ment. 
 
 Louis XIV looked at his minister with astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 "We commanded that this private council in Marly 
 
 i -^. 
 
 ^•^>&^t-.^::-g,. .Kk^'i^'.-r^^.T^.^^itifj:*- ^'-' _ 
 
le Roi should be held secretly," said he angrily. 
 
 "The will of Louis XIV is the ^aw of the world, "i 
 replied Louvois with a low bow. ! 
 
 "But it appears to have no restraining power for our 
 minister of war," answered the king with a haught}^,! 
 
 i 
 
 angry glance. 
 
 "Your Majesty/' said Louvois quietly, "to open a; 
 locked door a key is required!" I 
 
 The king started. "I understand," he then added, 
 and the dark clouds on his brow gave way to a crafty 
 smile. ! 
 
 "And Sire, if the key must be gilded?" asked Lou- 
 vois forcing his hard features at the same time into 
 a sarcastic smile. 
 
 "Then gild it!" exclaimed the king, "provided it is 
 the right key." 
 
 "It is," said the marquis. 
 
 The king sat down again, and at a gesture from the 
 minister, M. de Torcy admitted the German prince, 
 Franz Egon von Fiirstenburg, bishop of Strassburg, 
 to the presence of His Majesty, the king of France. 
 
 .■^^^ii^iaiSS^j>^^iSL 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 AN INTRIGUE, 
 
 The day was dying. The last beams of the setting 
 sun steeped the walls of Marly le Roi in a reddish, 
 golden light. The royal hermitage lay in a strange 
 magical radiance which surrounded with its glowing 
 splendor her who hitherto had ruled France like a 
 queen, and was now a recluse in Marly le Ror. 
 
 "My day is fading also! — so sinks my sun," ex- 
 claimed the Marquise de Montespan, as the door of 
 her chamber softly opened and the first waiting-maid 
 announced the Due de Saint Aignan. The features of 
 the marquise expressed astonishment. What had Saint 
 Aignan to do with one who was threatened with the 
 loss of the royal favor? The court rendered homage 
 not to the setting but to the rising sun. She however 
 admitted the nobleman. He came in with the chival- 
 ric manner peculiar, to him, and greeted her with a re- 
 spectful bow. 
 
 "M. le Due," said the marquise gravely, "what do 
 you seek from me? Do you wish to take leave of me, 
 and thereby procure the pleasure of watching the 
 pangs of a bleeding heart?^" 
 
 iiairiiflnimrlir^^lill 
 
70 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 ^.ft 
 
 "Noble lady," answered Saint Aignan with a second 
 bow, "you do not know me." 
 
 "You are a rou6," said the marquise quietly, 
 
 "There you are rightl" exclaimed the Due. "But 
 what has that to do with it?" 
 
 "For a man like yourself," continued Mme. de 
 Montespan seriously, "close upon the edge of an 
 abyss, there is no greater, but, also, no more diabolical 
 pleasure than — to venture either alone or with others 
 to sound the gulf of wickedness or misery, to feel its 
 cold breath and then — to draw back." 
 
 "I can never cease to admire the wit and penetration 
 of the Marquise de Montespan," replied the Due, 
 "even though I might complain of a slight injustice. 
 It is true that this approach to the abycs of the wicked 
 can delight me — it fills me with a diabolical pleasure 
 which nothing on earth can equal — what other pleas- 
 ures are there for us? But enjoyment of the misery 
 of others? I do not understand what you can mean, 
 noble lady!" ! 
 
 "Oh!" cried the marquise bitterly, "what innocence 
 in the heart of a Saint Aignan! It will create 
 even greater delight for your wicked heart, if the 
 victim who writhes under the lion's claws herself re- 
 lates the history of her disgrace and suffering. 
 Well then, M. le Due, lookout of yonder window! There 
 stands my fate written on the heavens in blood-red 
 characters." i . 
 
 "What can a hand accu&tomed to wield the scepter 
 
 L«"*8Aiil;MSaEfcA.^. '^^■ijbi>fc..Mt.7 
 
 »,^.t.JL4I.3-i£=>.je.^itt&^..u£«&if;rfs^y^' 
 
fs«^??Ff5r:'^^-ss5wi?rt 
 
 AN INTRIGUE 71 
 
 do? Hold your position firmly, Madame la Marquise!** 
 
 "This too!" exclaimed the marquise bitterly, "this 
 thrust also! Go! go! M. le Due! What do you de- 
 sire of me, the degraded one? Go and pay your ho- 
 mage to the star which will soon rise to announce the 
 new day!" 
 
 "Marly le Roi has inclined you to be sad, madame!" 
 said the Due. "Persuade the king to return to Ver-. 
 sailles. It is your due, as the most beautiful woman 
 in all France, to reside there." 
 
 "It is ray due?" exclaimed Mme. de Montespan sor- 
 rowfully. "Does not the noble Due, who is always 
 overflowing with witty anecdotes, know th^ king's re- 
 ply to the Duchesse de la Valliere?" 
 
 "No, madame, to my shame be it said — no," answered 
 the diplomatic courtier. 
 
 "Well then — when matters had gone as far with 
 la Valliere as they now have with me, she spoke of 
 something to His Majesty which was her due. The 
 king, in a fit of temper, which he often has, took his 
 little Spanish dog, Malice, threw it into her lap, and 
 said, 'Take it, madame, that is your due.' " 
 
 St. Aignan was "also silent for a moment and it 
 seemed as if something like seriousness shaded the 
 eternally smiling face. Then he took the hand of the 
 marquise and iinprinting a light kiss upon it, said: 
 
 "Do you know why I am come?" 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "To avert such a result, and we shall succeed . . . 
 if we go hand in hand," 
 
 iiii<iiffi|{i&if»flSniT'fgrir»yiTaiilV'e««>ii!a'T-f- rT r. r^ -i' -r ' ' ._!3.^ijw:^£:>_ - t^MiSi&i^i^a 
 
72 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 "I am astonished!" -- . 
 
 "But I need one thing: your friendship. Do you 
 know what friendship means? " 
 
 "I think so." ' 
 
 "Do you know the story about Madame de Ram- 
 bouillet?" , I 
 
 "Ah! another of your stories. I believe, if your 
 father lay dying in your arms, you would have a lyit- 
 ticism or anecdote on dying ready.* 
 
 "They are instructive, dear madame. For example, 
 there was no truer friend than Madame de Rambouillet. 
 Monsieur Arnauld d'Audilly who called himself a 'pro- 
 fessor of friendship' once offered to give her instruc- 
 tions in this science, and began with the question: 
 'what do you understand by friendship?* *A perfect 
 subordination of my own interests to those of my 
 
 friend!* answered Madame de Rambouillet. 'Then 
 
 , i 
 
 would you consent,' continued Monsieur d'Audilly, *to 
 suffer a great loss for theiDenefit of one of ypur. 
 friends?* ' 
 
 "'Not only for one of my friends,' she answered, 
 'but of any worthy man.' 'If you know so much, 
 madame,* replied d'Audilly, 'all instruction is super- 
 fluous, and you have nothing to learn!*" ' 
 
 The marquise had grown rather pale. She knew at 
 what a low ebb the treasury of the young nobleman, 
 who was extravagant above all bounds, usually was, 
 and avarice was one of her chief faults. But Madame 
 de Molitespan quickly comprehended that an alliance 
 
 ' ^n- ^'r-lt^7fa,Jfm'X'jk^,:$ll^.<a. Laj 
 
AN INTRIGUE 
 
 73 
 
 with the confidential favorite of the king might possi< 
 biy save her from the threatened ruin. Her decision 
 was therefore quickly made. Like the drowning man, 
 who in his despair grasps at every means of rescue, 
 she seized the offered hand and the alliance — the 
 word "friendship" she naturally omitted in her thoughts 
 — was concluded. , Both saw clearly enough what each 
 intended. St Aignan was striving for power over the 
 king. If he succeeded in securing to the mistress of 
 Louis XIV her position, if not the monarch's heart, 
 her influence would be strong enough to support him 
 — whom the envy and intrigues of the all-powerful 
 Louvois constantly threatened. He therefore promised 
 to risk everything to overthrow Madame de Liidre. 
 In return Madame de Montespan was to inform 
 St. Aignan of the intrigues of Louvois. The 
 reciprocal conditions were made and agreed upon. 
 Yet each of them hid a secret desire which concerned 
 their especial interest. It made no difference that both 
 were perfectly aware of this perfidy. Perfidy, or act- 
 ing with diplomacy, in their society signified the same 
 thing. The downfall of Madame de Liidre was not 
 enough for the marquise; she needed, now that her 
 fading beauty was no longer sufficient to enchain the 
 king, another subject for the heart of the monarch. 
 This new subject must neither be a match for her or 
 the king while she must on the contrary be and re- 
 main her tool. This thought was the fruit of to-day's 
 painful reflections. If she were once in condition to 
 
 ;mM^M 
 
74 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 work upon the king by a new mistress, who was in- 
 tellectually her inferior, she would have no further! 
 need of St. Aignan. Madame de Montespan was al- 
 ready thinking how, if her plan succeeded, she would 
 revenge herself upon him for all the sacrifices which 
 the present alliance demanded of her avarice. But no 
 eagle's eye is as sharp as the inner glance of a courtierj 
 when it is necessary to penetrate the by-paths of an- 
 other of the same stamp. St. Aignan knew what plans 
 Madame de Montespan was brooding over. He kiiew, 
 because in her position he would have thought and 
 done the same. But the affair could also serve him, 
 though irf exactly the contrary manner, to the fall of 
 the marquise and his sole monarchy over the king, 
 possibly even to the overthrow of Louvois, only then 
 the new-found mistress of the king must be his crea- 
 tion, and not that of the marquise. Still, to give 
 Madame de Montespan a rival was difficult. She 
 must therefore assist him. But let the new one be 
 once firmly fixed in her position, and the old one could 
 and should fall. Close calculations are everything at 
 court. Here, those of the marquise and her companion 
 had one and the same sum. St Aignan knew that he 
 should hit upon the right tone ... he therefore re- 
 signed his own aim and aided the marquise to give 
 herself a rival inferior to her in intellect. Such a 
 delicate attention to the monarch must, moreover, w^n 
 his favor for her again. 
 
 "And the passions yet be affected in His MajestyP 
 
 Ir- 
 
sswv^iism' 
 
 AS INTRIGUB 75 
 
 said the courtier, with a frivolous laiigh. "The pas- 
 sions are the most fearful when they break forth in a 
 riper age, where weakness already mingles with them. 
 Then to them is added the sweet, despairing joy of 
 the gambler who- is making his last throw." 
 
 "Hush, hush!" cried the marquise, "when you give 
 me a glimpse of your soul, a chill runs through iiie. " 
 
 "Ho! Ho!" exclaimed St. Aignan merrily, "then, 
 madame, I must at last cure you by Voiture's method." 
 
 "Oh! dear," sighed Mme. de Montespan, "another 
 of his stories!" 
 
 "And do you know how Voiture, the clever friend 
 of Rambouillet, cured his wife of fever?" 
 
 The marquise shook her head with a sigh; her whole 
 soul was occupied with other things, and — this incor- 
 rigible man tormented her with his anecdotes. But 
 she needed him! ' 
 
 St. Aignan did not allow himself to be disconcerted 
 
 "Voiture had the strangest fancies in the world," 
 said he, stretching himself out comfortably in his arm- 
 chair. "One day, •'"hen Mme. de Rambouillet had a 
 fever, he remembered having heard that sudden great 
 surprises often drove away such attacks. He was think- 
 ing how he could surprise Madame de Rambouillet in 
 an original and effective manner, when he perceived 
 two men leading bears. 'Excellent!' thought he, 'that 
 is what I am looking for.* And he took the Savoyards 
 and their animals to the Hotel Rambouillet. The 
 marquise sat near the fire, surrounded by a screen. 
 
76 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 Voiture ^ame softly into the room, put two chairs d6- 
 hind the screen, and made his actors get upon them. 
 Madame de Rambouillet heard a snorting sound be- 
 hind her, turned, and saw two bear's noses over her 
 head. She thought she should die of terror; but as 
 Voiture had rightly supposed, the fever yielded to the 
 fright. However, it was a long time before she could 
 pardon Voiture for the restoration of her health. iHe, 
 on his part, told everywhere that it was the finest cure 
 he had not only ever made, but had ever seen made." 
 
 "Have you finished?" asked Madame de Montespan, 
 awaking from a deep reverie. 
 
 "I have!" replied St. Aignan, "but the deuce — I be- 
 lieve you have not heard any of my pretty story, "i 
 
 "Yes," said the marquise, "I heard something about 
 a bear!" 4 
 
 Her companion laughed, and then said: "Your bear, 
 however, has something good, he has probably found 
 the honey you seek." I 
 
 "M. leDuc, " exclaimed Madame de Montespan sot' 
 rowfully. "You know my heart is almost bursting, 
 and you do not cease to jest!" '^ I " 
 
 "Because the thought that I am carrying in my 
 pocket what you vainly seek far and near, makes me 
 merry." And putting his hand in his breast-pocket, 
 he drew from it a miniature which he held before 
 Madame de Montespan. | 
 
 "What an angel!" exclaimed the latter. "The bust 
 of a Venus I" 
 
 £ji&i:i9^^M<sia:S^¥sSSi^^^^, 
 
AN INTRIGUE 
 
 n 
 
 *'Yes," said St. Aignan with the glowing eyes of a 
 sensualist, "beautiful as a marble statue but cold as 
 marble also. But to be sure! this apperanceof frigid- 
 ness charms and enchants doubly, like the singularity 
 of such a quantity of deep-red hair!" 
 
 "The hair is wonderful!" said the marquise, "who 
 could deny it a peculiar charm! what delicac)' of skin! 
 what a sweet expression of childish innocence/" 
 
 "Did you ever see anything more piquante?" asked 
 St. Aignan enthusifistically, and his looks almost de- 
 voured the picture. 
 
 "Only one thing is wanting!" said Madame deMon- 
 tespan, "intellect!" 
 
 ^ "So much the better!" said her companion with a 
 careless smile, "apparently prudish, without the exalt- 
 ing but often annoying wings of intellect, this won- 
 derful girl will become a bond which you— '* . 
 
 "Heavens!" exclaimed the marquise, "5'ou believe?" 
 
 "Madame," said St. Aignan merrily, "between our- 
 selves — I believe in nothing. But I am firmly convinced 
 of three things: firstly, that if we bring this young 
 girl to court, the king will immediately fall desperately 
 in love with her; secondly, that this apparently frigid 
 beauty is a woman, and like all others, cannot with- 
 stand the offers of a Louis XIV, -and lastlj% that this 
 beautiful marble bust lacks the intellectual element 
 to rule the king, and to supplant a Marquise de Mon- 
 tespari — the most intellectual woman in France." 
 
 "li sh« isaa innocent child, as it appears by these 
 
 -■^-r 
 
--«^v,' — '■'WSSf 
 
 78 A ROYAL ROBBER " 
 
 - . : \ ■ I 
 
 features," said Madame de Montespan, "she will 
 shrink from a man who has lOved so many and crushed 
 so many a heart." " ! 
 
 "Yes, if the man were not Louis XIV and king of 
 F'rance!" exclaimed St. Aignan. "Trust to me, I 
 know women! With them love is always the cause for 
 a perfect absolution. The man who really and strongly 
 loves a woman can commit crimes, and she will still 
 love him." ! ^ 
 
 A sigh escaped the lips of the marquise. The truth 
 of these words cut too deeply into her soul. Then 
 she asked quickly: "And who is the poor innocent 
 creature, who is to fall a victim to us and the insati- 
 ate ardor of the king?" [• « 
 
 St. Aignan laughed mockingly. "By all the saints, 
 I should not have expected that this fatal hermitage 
 of Marly le Roi would infect even the Marquise de 
 Montespan with its sentimentality. What do you care 
 for a young girl's innocence if it succeeds in retaining 
 the favor of the king!" I 
 
 "Monsieur leDuc!" said the marquise sadly, "my 
 soul is heavy with many sins,- but you are even worse 
 than I!" i 
 
 "And you are divinely naive!" exclaimed St. Aignan 
 laughing and kissing her hand. "I should never have 
 thought that we should have suited each other so well 
 in, diplomatic affairs. I could tell you — " i -^ 
 
 "For heaven's sake, do not tell another ancedote," 
 cried the marquise imploringly. "Tell me rather who 
 
 Jiiiiiiiihri^lrtrfiititiniriitT"'"^^^ 
 
 i 
 
^ AW INTRIGUB 79 
 
 IS this charming little red-head, whose picture you 
 have just shown me." 
 
 "She is the most innocent soul in the world!" re- 
 plied St. Aignan, "a little country girl, wondrously 
 beautiful, as you see, dazzlingly fair, with red hair — ** 
 ., "Monsieur le Due!" 
 
 "Slight, with deep blue eyes, delicate nose and 
 mouth, dainty hands and feet, outwardly cold, and 
 yet full of secret fire, of very limited intellect, and 
 what especially suits us, excessively vain," 
 
 "I am astonished! " said the lady^ "you have surely 
 become minister of the police of the kingdom, sinCB 
 .you possess such a detailed description of your beauty. 
 But you have forgotten to mention her name." 
 
 "Our beauty is called: Marie Angelina Scoraille de 
 Rousillo, Mademoiselle de FontangesP 
 
 "Ah! Fontanges!" 
 
 "An ancient family from the valley of the Puy de 
 Dome, and connected with the Montferrands Mnd 
 Torcys. Poor as a church mouse — but only sixteen 
 years old." 
 
 "So she is still a child!** said the marquise com- 
 passionately. "And how did the wolf find out this 
 poor little lamb?" 
 
 "By a remarkable coincidence! "answered the noble- 
 man, and then related how he had come on the track 
 of this charming creature through Captain de Torcy, 
 As he had long been interested in the fate of the noble 
 lady whose happy influence upon the king was just 
 
 jfttraiYiiiiiiriilSmrrir-TfiTi ^if - r 'urnr i -ly'r^i^ii ir -a- ..i':'^ 
 
irW^i^^. 
 
 So 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 now opposed by his enemy, Louvois, the first glancs« 
 at this picture had inspired him with the thoughts 
 which he now, in connection with the marquise, stood 
 'ready to carry out. Gauthier, in his innocence and 
 enthusiasm for Angeline, had himself given the Due, 
 who had won his regard by his courtesy and assurances 
 of friendship, the most minute particulars about Madd- 
 raoiselle de Fontanges. Of course he had not said 
 that he loved the young girl, but this did not escape 
 a man of the world like St. Aignan. That she pos- 
 sessed small intellect did not, of course, come from 
 Gauthier 's lips — perhaps he was not even aware of it 
 — but enchanted by the Due's flattering confidences 
 and fiery wine, he related so many traits of her dispo- 
 sition and character, that the Due, skilled in all the 
 infirmities of human nature, soon recognized the true 
 nature of the enthusiastically praised lady. Upon 
 this he. built his plan, and this, he now laid before 
 hi^'new ally. They agreed that Mademoiselle de 
 Fontanges — the quiet blossom of charming Limagnej 
 the gentle. Innocent child from the paradisiacal valleys 
 of the AUier — should play into the hands of Madame 
 de Montespan. The nearest pretext for this was 
 offered by the distant relationship of the marquise, as 
 a borri Rochechouart, to the Montferrands. It was 
 only necessary that Franfolse Athenais should hint 
 to her relatives that it was in her power to give aj 
 young lady a position at court, and she could be cer- j 
 tain of half a dozen offers. 
 
 ^.i!isiM^;ii^^ii^is&i6&^ 
 
AN INTRIGUE 
 
 8l 
 
 Was there at that time any higher ideal for the 
 country nobility than the court of Versailles? And was 
 not the silent affection of Gauthier and Angeline the 
 
 f 
 
 best thing for St. Aignan and the marquise? The in- 
 nocent love of the young people springing up in secret, 
 was counted upon by the two allies as a lever for their 
 intrigue. St. Aignan, under the pretext of sincere 
 friendship, was to attach Gauthier more and more to 
 himself, so that he should at last belong entirely to 
 him. False love letters should then jBrst fill Angeline 
 with desires for her absent beloved playmate, then for 
 the place where he now was, and at last for the court 
 itself. They could then arouse the vanity of the little 
 one, until no doubt could exist of a happy and free 
 acceptance of a decided summons to Paris on the part 
 of Mademoiselle de Fontanges. The rest was com- 
 mitted to the care of the marquise and the clever 
 machinations of St Aignan, to whom as a friend and 
 especial favorite of the king, it must be a trifle to lead 
 the monarch's easily moved heart to the desired goal. 
 
 The Due and Marquise were now agreed on their 
 plans and only the latter feared as often as she 
 glanced at the picture of the beautiful Fontanges . . . 
 that this pure, angel face concealed in its bosom a 
 iparbie. heart. The Due de St. Aignan laughed scorn- 
 fully. 
 
 "Ho you know, madame, how this conquest will be 
 made by us and the king?" 
 
 "How?" iisked the niarquise. 
 6 Robber 
 
 ii4aai^«fe<ifc^a;^;«i:-^a.»;j^^ 
 
■*^^ '■^^■^—TM 
 
 B2 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 "Like the capture of Candia by Achmet PacBa.* 
 "And how did that proceed?" j 
 
 "When Achmet Pacha landed on the island whicn 
 then belonged to the Christians, he foretold the sub- 
 sequent capture by a smile. He threw his saber into 
 the middle of a broad carpet, and said: 'Which of 
 you will take my sabre without stepping on the car- 
 pet?* As the sabre lay in the center, and could in 
 no way be reached with the hands, all present de- 
 clared it impossible. Then Achmet Pacha began to 
 roll up the carpet till he came to the saber, so that 
 he could take it without stepping on the carpet; seized 
 it and cried: 'Thus in time 1 will take possession of 
 Candia, foot by foot.* "And," added the Due gayly, 
 rising, "so will we and the king take possession of 
 this beautiful marble statue!" | 
 
 ' The sun had long since set, and deep night lay over 
 the earth, when St. Aignan and the marquise sep- 
 arated, i 
 
 ^jiiSBjIlxlJastii^ll^iiSiS^IS^&UaltcAlai^^ 
 
 mMJ!''- mli'- 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE CONJURATION. 
 
 It was "Friday" ... and this Friday fell on "the 
 thirteenth of the month!" The day, which had been 
 very warm, was declining as a strangely mixed com- 
 pany found themselves on the way to Saint Denis en 
 France, situated on the Croult, which united with the 
 Seine at a little distance, in those days a small 
 city of about five thousand inhabitants. The holjf 
 Dionysius, who preached the gospel in Gaul, and was 
 nominally the first Bishop of Paris, by his martyr's 
 death converted a heathen, who buried his body and 
 built a chapel over the grave of the martyr. This 
 chapel was afterwards enlarged, and in the year 636 
 raised to an abbey by Dagobert I. Pictures of the 
 saint and Prankish kings decorated the inner walls, 
 and the bones of more than thirty kings and queens, 
 and about eighty princes and princesses rested there. 
 The above mentioned party were going towards their* 
 resting place. There were two Savoyards, of whom 
 the older — a fine-looking, well-preserved man — did not 
 
 * Napoleon had the church rebuilt and decorated, and appointed it as a 
 resting place for all the royal family. The remains of the old kings were col- 
 lected by Louis XVIII and buried here: but the protection of them was trans* 
 ferred to the newly appointed Domeperr who from that time held the first 
 rank among the clergy of France. 
 
 _a^Srf.CftE-*e-»l_. 
 
84 
 
 ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 seem to feel at home in his dress. His body was tod 
 well rounded for a poor Savoyard, and one might sweaf 
 that his head suited a distinguished prelate better thaii 
 that of a man of the people. His younger companioii 
 could better be whai he appeared, although a certain 
 refinement, blended with marked carelessness and ease^ 
 appeared in his bearing. He was moreover a handsomei 
 man, notwithstanding his wasted features — and pos- 
 sessed an unusually bright black eye. . The Savoyards 
 did not travel alone; there were in their party two oldi 
 discharged soldiers, while in the rear followed a negrq 
 and two old women, the first of whom carried a strange 
 apparatus, partly covered with a cloth. Still the ne- 
 gro and the women undoubtedly belonged to the Savoy- 
 ards; for where the iroad was quiet and lonely onei 
 could see the younger one linger behind and exchange! 
 some mysterious words with one of the women. \ 
 
 Night soon closed in; the sultriness which had 
 reigned until now did not lessen, but rather increased.! 
 Not a leaf stirred, and not an animal was to be seen, i 
 Storm clouds lay on the distant horizon like tired I 
 prostrate giants. The wanderers must have experienced | 
 a painful feeling of oppression, for not one of them! 
 spoke a word. They walked silently on, only now and j 
 then the younger Savoyard urged on the older one, to 
 whom the walk was apparently toilsome, by telling 
 him they must move quickly, in order to arrive at St. 
 Denis before the closing of the gates. 
 
 It was already dark when this strange company 
 
THE. CONJURATIOil 85 
 
 passed through the gates of St. Denis. Here they 
 parted, and — without wasting a word^ — the Savoyards, 
 the soldiers, and the women with the negro struck in- 
 to different paths. But many different paths can all 
 lead to one point. After the lapse of a short half" 
 hour, the party met again in an insignificant looking 
 house, which stood not very far from the Abbey of St. 
 Denis — that huge tomb of so many royal sleepers. 
 
 They were silently greeted by the owner of the 
 little house — the sacristan of the neighboring church. 
 He bowed very low to the two Savoyards, particu- 
 larly to the elder. No light burned in the little nar-: 
 row room — all was dark as night. When all had en- 
 tered, the younger of the Savoyards said in the purest 
 French to the gray-headed old sacristan, who stood 
 timidly in one corner of the room with a large bunch 
 of keys in his hands: "Well, how is it? Are j'^ou 
 prepared to render obedience to the will of the right 
 reverend Cardinal?" 
 
 "I am ready to do so!" said the man in a trembling 
 voice. 
 
 "Well then," continued the former, handing the 
 old man a purse and a roll of paper, "here are the 
 promised hundred pistoles, and this document contains 
 the decree which secures you a good position at St- 
 Pierre-le-jeune. " 
 
 The sacristan of St. Denis took the proffered papers 
 so timidly, that it seemed as if the extended arm was 
 not in perfect underestanding with his own conscience. 
 
 i£LM;- 
 
 *^'^r'>" 
 
 ^^a^^^^^^^^iSi^sm^^^^^^^sii^ 
 
^•mFw^i 
 
 86 
 
 5»;^'"|«PNiy • m "•i^an^-.m'^wf'ffv. 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 "Arid thfe most reverend Cardinal," — said he with an 
 embarrassed air. ■ [■ . 
 
 "We assure you upon our honor," answered the 
 now steady voice of the old Savoyard, "that a sacred 
 vow obliges us to pass the whole night in the church 
 of the abbey. " j 
 
 "Well, make no longer delay!" contihued the younger 
 man, "and lead us through the underground passage 
 to the place known only to you." 
 
 "Only one word first!" interrupted the musical voice 
 of a woman. 
 
 "Why now?" asked the younger Savoyard angrily. 
 "Can not the matter wait till morning?" ■■ 
 
 "No," answered the female voice decidedly. "Every 
 articleof the agreement must be accurately kept, other- 
 wise— " 
 
 "Be silent," said the other as he turned to the sac- 
 ristan and whispered a few words in his ear. ° 
 
 A few moments later the old man with the soldiers, 
 the negro, and one of the women left the apartment. 
 The outer blinds were closed, and when he came back 
 with a dimly burning oil lamp, he found the two Savoy- 
 ards with a lady in a black dress of fine material, but 
 cut in a strange fashion. Her features were not 
 beautiful — one might almost call her expression un- 
 earthly — but it was by no means repulsive. The fig- 
 ure of the woman — she was perhaps about forty years 
 old — on the other hand, was faultless, and revealed 
 firm, graceful outlines. The loose garment she had 
 worn as a disguise lay on the ground. 
 
 4 V-V! l^^i^2^~tBL-:^ilSi£&%A 
 
 ■i^'■..;■i*t:;li;.--AJ.->ii&■ii*^;.^si.'J~,^^li*i^*i?aii^^ 
 
'-?r.|^?^f-»* ■■•(* — — -' _ vtI 
 
 ■ - - _ ^- 
 
 THE CONJURATION ^ 87 
 
 At the first ray that streamed from the dim oil 
 lamp the sacristan shrank back; still it would be nor 
 ticed by every close observer that the old man was no 
 longer astonished at the appearance. 
 
 "And what do you wish now, madame?" asked the 
 younger Savoyard, after they were left alone. 
 
 "You know, M. le Due," answered the lady, "the 
 agreement. If all these articles are not entirely ful- 
 filled the conjuration will come to nothing.'^ 
 _ "Do her will!" whispered the cardinal in the Savo- 
 yard's dress, "you know what depends upon it." 
 
 "Uncle!" said the Due de St. Aignan, in a scarcely 
 audible voice, bending down to the cardinal's ear. 
 
 "Uncle! have you considered sufficiently? — the sum 
 is enormous!" . 
 
 "Count it out," replied the distinguished prefate 
 in a whisper, "true, the demand of La Voison is enor- 
 mous, but — the property which Marshal Tiirenne (whose 
 heir I am as you know) left, must be a thousand 
 times greater." 
 
 "But, uncle, are you certain that the marshal had 
 property? It has been disputed." 
 
 "With such a name, such dignities, and the thousand 
 opportunities for becoming rich which such a general 
 has, would a man die without leaving a sou behind? 
 I tell you he has buried his wealth, and to-night the 
 place where the treasure is hidden shall be specified. 
 La Voison will summon the spirit of Tiirenne out of 
 his grave to-night, so that he may tell us where and 
 how we can £nd his property. 
 
 w 
 
^ 
 
 A aOYAL ROBBER 
 
 **You are still convinced of the witch's magical 
 power?" , j ■ 
 
 "Certainly," replied the Due and there was an ex- 
 pression of perfect conviction in the tone with which 
 he said this "certainly." i" - 
 
 "Then com.t out the appointed sum!" continued the 
 cardinal." i 
 
 "Well, gentlemen?" said the lady, tired of the long 
 delay. | 
 
 "Accept It, madame!" answered St. Algnan. "Here, 
 according to the agreement, are the twenty-five thou- 
 sand livres in gold; the other twenty-five thousand 
 are, according to agreement, deposited with a third 
 person, whom you yourself proposed, the pious Pere 
 St. Etienne, from whom you are certain to receive them 
 after the conjuration has taken place!" i 
 
 "Very well," replied La Voison as she pocketed the 
 offered sum. "But now let us go to work — it is high 
 time." I ; 
 
 A distant peal of thunder answered these words. 
 The storm was approaching. St. Aignan called the 
 sacristan. The old man came in with a lantern and 
 bunch of keys in his hand — the horror of the day of 
 judgment was expressed in all his features. The others 
 waited In the dark little vestibule. At a gesture from 
 the trembling hand of the old man, all followed and 
 soon disappeared In a gloomy, cellar-like arch that led 
 to the underground passage known only to thesacrisv^ 
 tan of St. Denis, 
 
 hiiirriff'^i 
 
 ..^.^...^.....^i^i^^'^-^^ 
 
THE CONJURATION 
 
 89 
 
 Those were strange times, and strange people lived 
 in them! While on the one hand the greatest levity, 
 immorality and frivolity reigned at the court of Louis 
 XIV, on the other there was a still more rigid appar- 
 ent observance of religion Priests and churches played 
 a great role; confessions and masses were attended 
 with incredible punctuality, if only to see and be 
 seen, or even to carry on the most frivolous love ad- 
 ventures. It was the fashion under the "great king" 
 to trifle with everything, with hearts, with the people, 
 with cards, with the welfare of millions, with virtue 
 and crime, with religion, with finances, with poison 
 and dagger, and . . . with the devil himself. - 
 
 Men of the church, like Cardinal Richelieu and 
 Mazarin, were at that time powerful ministers of 
 state. The state was under them ecclesiastically also 
 — but men did not become better and more pioas, but 
 only more hypocritical and evil. Neither populace nor 
 priesthood, nobles nor king, were imbued with tl|e 
 knowledge of true religion. * In a word, religion at 
 that time consisted only of superstition and superfi- 
 cial rites. People were anxious and childish about 
 trifles, and incredibly hardened in regard to the most 
 terrible evil. All sins in the world, after all, were 
 pardoned at the last confession. But where could such 
 a practise lead save to disgraceful hypocrisy and cor- 
 ruption, which naturally go hand in hand with super- 
 stitions of which our century has no conception. 
 Louis XIV and his whole court served as an example 
 
 m^^M^M^..&.,.mm^ 
 
-^pCB'^'ySSfl^P^-a^^'"' "ji^jygWB! 
 
 90 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 of levity, corruption, and immorality, to the people. 
 Since the sudden death of the wife of the Due d'Or- 
 leans — the brother of Louis XIV — which, as was whis- 
 pered, was caused by poison, to the horror of all the 
 world a number of deaths occurred whose cause re- 
 mained un-ascertained. Prophesies, exorcism of spirits, 
 and similar things were the order of the day. Indeed 
 at court and among the people a magic and enchant- 
 ment bureau was spoken of, as well as a secret manu- 
 factory of the horrible poison, which the Parisians, 
 in their desire to jest at everything, called "Succssion 
 powder" — poudre de succession. Two Italians, Exili 
 and Destinelli, while searching for the philosopher's 
 stone had, it was said, discovered the preparation of 
 this poison, which left no trace. The terrible poisoner 
 Brinvilliers had first tried it on Lieutenant General 
 d'Aubray, who died and was buried without raising 
 the least suspicion against the guilty woman. 
 ^Sbon after this, a certain La Voisin, a celebrated 
 fortune-teller, who was sought in the very highest Pari- 
 sian society, saw what an advantage she would gain 
 if she could extend her branch of industry in this 
 manner. From this time she therefore not only proph- 
 esied the death of a rich relation to an heir, but also 
 helped to carry out her prophecy so that her fame be- 
 came extraordinary. ! 
 
 Two priests, Le Sage and d*Auvaux assisted her 
 and the result of this frightful union was such 
 an excess of crimes that all France trembled, and 
 
 Bliiri^-rfiTNtillrMWii 
 
 nfifAlitiigJnilfti' 
 
wrm^^i^^i^^^WT^^^?^ 
 
 THE CONJURATION 
 
 91 
 
 Louis XIV saw himself at last obliged to create an 
 especial court of justice, the Chambre-ardentey for 
 such crimes, because the highest people of the 
 court might perhaps be concerned in the intended in- 
 vestigations. 
 
 Even Monseigneur, the king's brother, visited La 
 Voisin many times, and though disguised, was accom- 
 panied by the Sieur de Lorraine, Comte de Beuvron, 
 and the Marquis d'Effiat. The first time he came to 
 learn what had become of a son of his wife, Madame 
 Henrietta, born in 1668, and of whom he declared hfe 
 was not the father. According to his assertion, the 
 child was born in England where the report of his 
 death was spread. He wished to be certain upon this 
 important point. This could be ascertained without 
 magic. La Voisin therefore determined to explain it 
 by natural means, and with the prince's consent sent 
 her cousin, Beauvillard, to London. After the lapse 
 of a month, Beauvillard returned and gave the follow- 
 ing account, true or false. Madame really had a child, 
 born in England in the year 1668, which was not dead, 
 but given up to the guardianship of his uncle. King 
 Charles II, who loaded him with every token of love 
 and tenderness. It was thought that Louis XIV was 
 himself the father of this child. 
 
 Monseigneur paid 4000 pistoles and a diamond to 
 La Voisin for the discover}^, and 250 louis d'or to Beau- 
 villard. The second time that Monseigneur visited 
 La Voisin was at Mendon. He wished to summon 
 
ga A ROYAL ROBBEK -< | 
 
 the devil, from whom he would demand Turpin's ring, 
 or some such means to rule the king. La Voisin 
 caused a spirit to appear whom Monselgneur, who 
 was very courageous, recognized as Satan. Monseign- 
 eur demanded the before mentioned ring or talisman, 
 but the phantom answered that the king possessed a 
 charm which protected him from any control. I 
 
 The queen, too, wished to see the celebrated fortune 
 teller. La Voisin placed the cards for her, and offered 
 to prepare a love potion which should procure her the 
 ♦mdivided love of the king; but the queen answered 
 she would rather, as before, lament her husband's 
 faithlessness, than administer any potion to him which 
 might injure his health. The queen never saw the 
 poisoner again. Not so with the Countess de Soissons, 
 Olympia Mancini, she visited La Voisin more than 
 thirty times, and perliaps received her still oftener. 
 Her aim was to secure for herself the possession of 
 the enormous property of Cardinal Mazarin, her uncle 
 to the neglect of all other relation, and to regain her 
 formet influence over the king, which she had allowed 
 to escape her. Less conscientious than the queen, she 
 vehemently demanded an elixir of love which should 
 turn Louis' entire affection and devotion to her, and in 
 order to prepare it had given to the poisoner hair, 
 nails, shirts, several stockings and a collar of the 
 king's from which to make a love-puppet like the one 
 which had attracted so much attention about a hundred 
 years before at the trial of La Mote. It was said she 
 
 t 
 
tSE CONJURATION ^ 
 
 had also procured, for La Voisin a few drops of the 
 king's blood in a little crystal flask. The conjuration 
 had taken place, however, without the slightest result. 
 Fouquet, at the height of his good fortune, had been 
 connected wi th the fortune teller, and had even given 
 
 ' her an annual stipend. Bussy Rabutin came to her 
 to receive something which should procure him the 
 love of his cousin, Madame de S^vigni^, and a talis- 
 man to make him the sole favorite of the king. The 
 
 ' Due de Lauzun desired to alwaj'^s be loved by the 
 
 . sovereign's mistresses; and to obtain some certainty 
 about his marriage with mademoiselle, and learn wheth- 
 er he should receive a certain order. In relation to the 
 latter point, La Voisin answered that he should have 
 the blue ribbon. The prophecy was fulfilled; but it 
 was not the order of the Holy Spirit, of which he was 
 thinking, but the order of the Garter .which he ob 
 tained. 
 
 ' The Duke of Luxembourg had desired to see the 
 devil upon whom he wished to make a claim: namely 
 
 . that Satan should, by his power, demand his appoint- 
 ment as Duke of Pinez. 
 
 Such were the spiritual, religious, and moral re- 
 lations, at the court of Louis XIV, when even the heir 
 of Marshal Turenne, the reverend abbot of Auvergne, 
 Emanuel Theodosius de la Tour, Prince and Cardinal 
 de Bouillon, High Almoner of France, in company 
 with his nephew, the Due de St. Aignan, La Voisin 
 and hex waiting-maid, the two priests, disguised as 
 
 ^^-'^'^^^^^^^fliiffifMMTWf^ '■-^^^-^■---^-^-^- 
 
?J5^„" 
 
 ;"^^3S-' !i?>s»i; -' -• ^ -•"it^^osOTmy^ 
 
 ^l^nHHnHHHH 
 
 Mi 
 
 ** " ' "_"""' ' 
 
 .^p^^^^^ 
 
 ^^ 
 
 __ 
 
 ' _■ " 
 
 " "X 
 
 94 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 soldiers, and a negro to carry the magical apparalttis, 
 went to St. Denis in order to conjure up, by a "devils* 
 mass," the spirit of Tiirenne from his grave, that he 
 might tell the avaricious souls where Marshal Tiirenne 
 had buried his property. 
 
 Night brooded over the earth. It was Friday and 
 this Friday fell exactly on the thirteenth of the 
 month. So, according to the statement of La Voisin, 
 it must be, and the conjuration could only take place 
 in the church of St. Denis, and then only at the mid* 
 night hour. 
 
 It was about eleven. Thanks to the corruptibility 
 of the old sacristan, they had passed through the 
 underground passage to the abbey. An arch of the 
 bell-tower now concealed the sacrilegious group. 
 
 Still it seemed as if, at the last hour, the voice of 
 eternity sought to warn them, for the thunder of the 
 approaching storm rolled, the wind howled round the 
 tower, the lightning gleamed through the little windows 
 of the building illuminating its darkness for a moment, 
 and making the pale, unearthly iaces of the partic- 
 ipants in the ceremony look like spirits. ! 
 
 The clock struck eleven, and with the last stroke, a 
 key turned in the lock of the little iron door which 
 led out of the arch of the bell-tower into the interior 
 of the church. A slnall, faint ray of light streamed in 
 from the dark lantern of the sacristan. | 
 
 A death-like stillness reigned in the wide apart- 
 ment. Silently — like warning giant fingers— rose the 
 
 L'- 
 
- . THE CONJURATION 95 
 
 mighty columns — the pious thoughts embodied in stone 
 of a century long since dead. Softly the party moved 
 through the empty space to the. back part of the 
 church, for here only — aside from the abbey — was the 
 glimmer of light securely shielded from any eyes 
 which might still be open. 
 
 They had now reached the place where the "devils' " 
 mass," that is, the service read backward, was to be 
 repeated. Quickly and noiselessly, Lesage and d'Au- 
 raux erected a kind of altar, the negro, like a dark 
 demon risen from hell, assisting them, spread a black 
 cloth over It, and lighted five black wax candles. 
 Then the sacred books were placed upon it upside 
 down, the crucifix head downward, and the priests 
 put on their vestments wrong side out 
 
 Even the heart of the reverend abbot of Auvergne, 
 trembled at this moment. A death like pallor covered 
 his face . . . his limbs shook. 
 
 "Nephew!" he whispered softly to the Due de St. 
 Aignan, who was standing near him, and around 
 whose lips, though a little pale, the perpetual smile 
 played, "nephew! I fear Satan." 
 
 "Wherefore?" asked the Due, with difficulty con- 
 cealing his own agitation, for so deeply in those times 
 was superstition implanted yi every soul, that even 
 the most frivolous believed In magic and the possibility 
 of raising spirits from the grave. 
 
 "Wherefore?" repeated the Cardinal, whose con- 
 science — notwithstanding his insatiable avarice— began 
 
 a!^^-fea^fef,frigii,-;#aii«fefer- 
 
 ^^^ 
 
q6 
 
 A ItOYAI. RQBBEft 
 
 to cry out in his soul: "Because, after all, his horri- 
 bie appearance might kill iisP ^ j 
 
 "Do not fear, most worthy uncle,** answered St, 
 Aignan softly, while with great effort he put on an air 
 of easy unconstraint. "Do you know how the devil 
 looks?" I • 
 
 "No," replied the bewildered abbot. ] 
 
 "YoG know the trial of Madame Brinvilliers?** i 
 "YesI The Due de La Reynie was presiding^ nX 
 the trial." | ' 
 
 "Yes!" i ' 
 
 "Well, the Duchess de Bouillon was summoned! on 
 account of a devil's conjuration. When La Reynie 
 asked: 'Did you see the devil Madame? And if you 
 saw him, tell me how he looked!" she answeerd 
 quietly: *No, my Lord, I have not seen him; but I 
 see him at this moment: he is ugly and dressed like 
 a councilor!*" j 
 
 '^'Do not jest!" answered the cardinal sternly. "How 
 can you at this hour?" [ - 
 
 A fearful peal of thunder at this moment shook the 
 old building to its foundation. A sea of fire flamed in 
 at all the windows of the church. Hell seemed, in 
 fact, to have opened its gates. Everyone stood 
 affrighted, every ear listened to hear a cry • of 
 fire. But all remained quiet and only the storm 
 continued to rage. , . ■.; 
 
 •*Let us begin," said La Voisin at last, "and you, 
 my Lords, be composed, in all probability the spirit 
 will appear during the consecration.** i 
 
' THE CONJURATIOir 97 
 
 The mass began. But the storm grew fiercer and 
 fiercer. Heaven and earth were continually bathed in 
 fire and flame while one peal followed another, 
 the earth trembled and— rocked by the storm, the 
 bells of the tower called anxiously for help. 
 
 Then d'Auvaux, the infamous priest, raised the 
 Host, calling upon the devil instead of God. But at 
 this moment a piercing scream resounded, a flag stona 
 in the* choir rose and a figure enveloped in a shroud 
 appeared. La Voisin and the priest sank on the floor; 
 the cardinal and even St. Aignan staggered back. But 
 the figure cried with a hollow, sepulchral voice: 
 "Wretch, you have degraded ray house, made famous 
 by many heroes. It will fall! My name will be 
 extinguished before a century has passed. Know! — 
 the treasure which / left — is — my fame— my vicioriesf 
 Worthless man, seek for no other." 
 
 With these words the figure sank back. Another 
 fearful peal of thunder rolled over the church. A blast 
 of wind destroyed one of the decaying windows, and 
 the candles went out. 
 
 7 JRohier 
 
 gi^i^^^^.^^.s^.^.-^..,w..^;...i^^^^ 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE DREAM. 
 
 Charming Limagne is like an Eden surrounded by 
 laurels and" myrtles, evergreens, oaks, orange and 
 lemon trees, while above arches a soft, almost eternally 
 clear sky! | ' 
 
 Yes, charming Limagne is like an Eden! and above 
 the vineyards and the olive-groves and the golden 
 fruit-fields rise the summits of the Puy de Dome and 
 the grand Mont d'Or. [ 
 
 And 5'et another thing in Limagne in those days re-, 
 minded one of the Eden of man; the simplicity and 
 unspoiled condition of manners, which— rin contrast to 
 Paris and the court — reigned in that neighborhood. 
 
 Here was where Marie Angeline Scoraille de Rousille, 
 the lovely sixteen year old daughter of the house of 
 Fontanges grew up upon the banks of the AUier like a 
 beautiful flower hidden from the world. Left to the 
 care of an invalid mother, upon whose shoulders still 
 heavier cares rested, for the family of Fontanges— 
 like so many of the provincial nobility — had long 
 since declined and been impoverished, Angeline had 
 not the benefit of any especial education, but heri in- 
 tellect was not of the kind to feel the need o£ to 
 
 88 
 
 ^Virii ■r-^'-i-'itir 1 i'Tg'^^SfrliiffinfrTrfirrf'W'-i!iiinii-iirriiK-irt-^ ^^£^k%^^&&»sci^.^£^f^r^^ 
 
THE DREAM 9|^ 
 
 strive independently for a special cultivation. Child- 
 ishly pious and good by nature, she enjoyed the little 
 knowledge which her confessor brought her, and this 
 was confined to instruction in religious matters, a 
 little reading and writing, a hasty glance at the his- 
 tory of her native country, and the more accurate 
 knowledge of the departed greatness of the house 
 of Fontanges and the family of the Comtd de Mont- 
 f errand. 
 
 But in those times the daughters of the provincial 
 nobility seldom learned more — with the exception of 
 the art of needlework — and so this simple education 
 would have done no particular harm to the charming 
 Angeline, if the only thing which was taught her 
 thoroughly, the history of her house and its former 
 splendor, had not strengthened and advanced that 
 weak point in her. character, which must be design 
 nated as the most prominent. 
 
 This weakness was — vanity. But could Angeline 
 be otherwise than vain? Even as a child, she was 
 beautiful as a little angel and every one took pains to' 
 tell her so. 
 
 Goethe said: "Women are vain by nature; but it 
 is becoming to them, and we like them the better for 
 it." Still this might have passed away in the case of 
 Mademoiselle de Fontanges as with so many other 
 young ladies, if this vanity had not found new nourish- 
 ment in the faded greatness of her house, which 
 awakened in the young girPs breast a silent longing 
 
 iki 
 
 • ^wytttiiff^^^^^^^'^^"^-^^^^"-^- -^---^^^^^^-----—^^ 
 
lOO . A ROVAL ROBBER 
 
 for the recovery of such splendor. The consequence 
 was that, with all innocence and childishness-— a 
 secret, vague ambition consumed her. But the lovely 
 Angeline was, in fact, still too Immature to give any 
 other than a childish expression to this ambition. She 
 found it in sweet reveries, for which the loneliness of 
 her quiet life In poetic Limagne afforded her plenty 
 of time. Then she dreamed herself back in former 
 centuries, as the daughter of the once famous and 
 powerful Rueil Charles de Fontanges, who rose to a 
 high rank, and was the friend of Philip VII of Valois; 
 or as the niece of Laurent de Fontanges, the Abbot 
 of Notre-Dame de-Bon-Port, who under King Charles 
 VII, with Agnes Sorel, was one of the most prominent 
 characters at court. 1 
 
 Amid such visions had Angeline grown up and with 
 her — as a near relative — the little Gauthier de Mont- 
 ferrand. The children had but one heart and soul; 
 their natures in time almost blended Into one. In 
 the common childish plays Gauthier usually took the 
 part of the knight of the Lady of Fontanges or even 
 Charles VII himself, who not only paid homage in 
 every way to the niece of the Abbot of Notre-Dame- 
 de-Bon-Port, but also made her his queen. j 
 
 Thus a childish affection between Gauthier and 
 Angeline developed, and increased, although it scarcely 
 gave token of being anything more than the love 
 between a. brother and sister. Only when both had 
 grown up, and Gauthier— to open a career for him* 
 
 f Prr^-i Wf-r ' r ^r^j^jjir fft^irr-iii-iiitiirf"t rnfJiTi^^ ■•^litniiliiiiiiWitifeiBii 
 
THE DREAM lOZ 
 
 self — was summoned by his uncle. Captain de Torcy, 
 to Paris and the court — only then, agitated by the 
 thought of parting, both became aware that an affection 
 had grown in their hearts which was something more 
 than fraternal love. 
 
 Thus it happened that, from this moment, An- 
 geline's thoughts were directed towards Versailles. 
 There lived the one for whom her heart beat, and 
 this youthful hedrt was passionate enough, notwith- 
 standing her frigid exterior. Thither turned her 
 quiet reveries.. 
 
 The first letter of the youth— directed to his 
 mother and also to Angeline^had not been very 
 enthusiastic about the court of Versailles. The heart 
 of the young man seemed to be depressed and 
 saddened. In how many expectations he had been 
 disappointed! How his pure, child-like soul shuddered 
 at the unrestrained frivolity and immorality which 
 met him here! How he wished himself back in his 
 quiet Limagne! Only one thing according to his first 
 letter comforted him: the cordiality with which his 
 uncle received him j and — the astonishing complaisance 
 with which the noble, intellectual Due de St. Aignan, 
 the especial favorite of the king, had tendered him 
 his friendship* What visions of the future he could 
 build upon it; what hopes for his mother and Angeline 
 Gauthier suggested. 
 
 This first letter was soon followed by others. An- 
 geline trembled with delight for they were directed to 
 
 ..* 
 
A^rz' 
 
 I03 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 her — and how differently everything at ^ourt now 
 appeared to her cousin, how constantly he thought of 
 her! Oh! what a glowing, longing love could be read 
 in these words, a love which drew her with magic 
 power, to the court. 
 
 0\\\ what a life it must be there! People appeared 
 in dresses so costly and beautiful, that one could have— 
 no idea of them in poor Limagne. And the festivals 
 the king gave! And what homage he, the great king, 
 the-handsomest and most thivalric man in France, 
 paid to women. Like a sweet, intoxicating poison, 
 the lovely Mademoiselle de Fontanges drank in these 
 alluring words. They flattered her vanity too much 
 for her to weigh their meaning quietly, and compare 
 them with Gauthier's former turn of mindj so well 
 known to her. Already in imagination she saw hjer- 
 self among all these high-born noble ladies— .otit- 
 shining them — envied by them — admired and honored 
 by Louis XIV! ' I 
 
 At this time a new impulse and excitement was 
 stirred in her heart by the news; that the Marquise |de 
 Montespan, the mistress of the king, had expressed} a 
 wish to one of her distant relatives, living in Cler- 
 mont, that she should send her one of the young 
 ladies from the nobility of Limagne to occupy a 
 position at court, as lady of honor to the queen. 
 
 The marquise had requested her to propose several 
 of the young ladies belonging to the nobility. | 
 
 Among those proposed — so much Angeline had 
 
 '^,&,.,.,^,^^.^^.i.^:^.^S^.^,^£ki^ 
 
THE DREAM . _, X03 
 
 ..learned from the friend through whom Gauthier's 
 , letters had lately come — was her name, although her 
 mother, as well as her confessor and teacher, had at 
 first very decidedly opposed it; The urgency of the 
 family, a letter from Gauthier, and' the entreaties of 
 Angelina had won the victory. 
 
 How the hearts of all the young girls whose names 
 had been sent to Versailles beat with anxiety — how 
 quickly and passionately that of the charming Marie 
 Angeline throbbed in her bosom. But no answer had 
 as yet arrived. The uncertainty and expectation 
 almost overpowered little Mademoiselle de Fontanges, 
 and she sought solitude more than ever. 
 
 And with this memory, Angeline's waking dreams- 
 and thoughts change. A full hour might have passed 
 when Pere Hilaire, the confessor of the lovely Made- 
 moiselle de Fontanges, came down the path. He was 
 a plain, somewhat narrow-minded, but worthy man, who 
 without questioning, submissively believed what the 
 church commanded, but at the same time intended to be 
 honest with men, especially with the souls Intrusted 
 to his care. Therefore he loved Angeline like a father, 
 for since her childhood she had been to him the type 
 by which he imagined the angels in heaven. 
 
 The idea that there was a possibility of the removal 
 of his pupil to court, made him very anxious, and 
 while coming-from the sick bed of a poor woman at 
 the other end of the valley, he was again meditating 
 upon this vexatious subject, when he found his 
 darling sleeping at the edge of the wood. 
 
 '^^^^^'^^^^^■v^,»-iiVim<gi\ 
 
'7*fS. 
 
 'JW^?^?^' 
 
 104 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 Oh! how charmingly the lovely girl lay there, like 
 a beautiful flower among her sisters, resting so lightly 
 on the swelling turf, and in fact a thousand charms 
 exerted so powerful an attraction, that "Peih Hilaire 
 could not resist pressing a soft kiss upon her dress. 
 Suddenly she breathed quicker and more heavily, the 
 smile which had just played around her lips dis- 
 appeared, terror was expressed in her features, 
 and a low groan indicated an anxious, troubled dream. 
 
 "Poor child," thought the priest, "life will bring 
 you still more troubled dreams. " and he gently awoke 
 his pupil. Angeline de Fontanges started up in 
 terror. She needed time to think where she was, and 
 how she had come there. 
 
 Pere Hilaire smiled at her with fatherly kindness, 
 and then said: "You have had a troubled and anxious 
 dream, my dear child. " 
 
 "Yes, father," answered the young girl, still half 
 bewildered and frightened. "And it was strange 
 enough." 1 
 
 "Strange?" — repeated the priest, — "what was it that 
 my lovely child dreamed in the open air? " 
 
 Angeline .hesitated, pressed her hand upon her brow, 
 and after a little pause said, as if speaking to her- 
 self: 
 
 "Oh I— it was beautiful, and at the same time horri- 
 ble, but strangely mysterious also. But, " she con- 
 tinued eagerly, "you know how to explain dreams, 
 Pere Hilaire." 
 
 ^■^^^^''''^-■'^^r^iriiifiiriiiftiii f -ti^ 
 
r.^r":)^- 
 
 THE DREAM 
 
 105 
 
 "Dreams?" replied the priest gravely, "dream^s 
 come from God, and in this way He often warns his 
 poor, weak human children of evil and destruction!" 
 
 "Strange! " said the girl Jbending her beautiful head 
 thoughtfully, "byt you are my confessor and teacher, 
 so I will^ relate my dream to you — and you may inter- 
 pret it." 
 
 The priest sat down by Angeline and she began: 
 
 "I thought I had climbed to the summit of a very 
 high mountain, around me lay the world, but just as 
 I reached the top I was so much dazzled by a purple 
 and gold cloud that I could not find my way. The 
 cloud seemed to rise — and I was inspired with courage 
 — but I suddenly began to sink, deep darkness en- 
 veloped me, and my soul was so agitated by anxiety 
 and fear that I awoke." 
 
 Angeline was silent — the priest's expression had 
 become grave and sad. 
 
 "And. the interpretation?" asked Mademoiselle de 
 Fontanges anxiously. 
 
 "The interpretation," repeated the priest, "is a warn- 
 ing to you In your path of life. Take care, my daugh- 
 ter, the mountain is the court, where you, If you go, 
 which I hope will not be the case, will excite great 
 attention. But this attention will not be of long dur- 
 ation if you forsake your God; for in that case God 
 will forsake you, and you will perish in eternal night. " 
 
 Angeline was terrified. She went home beside the 
 pious priest, absorbed in her own thoughts, and speak- 
 ing only in monosyllables. 
 
 mi^^ 
 
 >,^gmMm»^'i^^-j:*''^'^-'^'=^^i^''^'- 
 
io6 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 On her arrival she found every one in excitement; 
 the Marquise de Montespan had made her selection 
 from among the young ladies of Limagne and 
 her choice had fallen upon Marie Angeline iJcoraille 
 de Rousille, Mademoiselle de Fontanges. \ ' 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A NOBLE FRIEND. 
 
 Gauthier sat alone in his room. It was a small 
 apartment, — and in these days, with our i-deas of com- 
 fort and ease, would be considered a very poorly 
 furnished one, — near that of his uncle's, who as an 
 unmarried man, and a soldier, thought very little of 
 the luxuries of life. To him, a good glass of wine 
 and a game of cards after the performance of his toil- 
 some duty, were the greatest enjoyments earth could 
 offer, and he troubled himself very little about any- 
 thing else. 
 
 He was now on duty and Gauthier alone, so the 
 young man could give himself up to his sad thoughts, 
 though the youth, only a short time before,- had 
 arrived at the court of Versailles so full of life and 
 courage. 
 
 Gauthier was by no means a hypocrite, but his pure 
 heart could not fail to be filled with uneasiness, nay 
 with fear and aversion, at the life of the court of 
 Versailles. 
 
 What a horrible contrast this excess of immorality 
 and corruption, outward splendor, and inward poverty, 
 hypocrisy and wickedness, frivolity and superstition, 
 
 107 
 
Js»«:i?.s^r!aK3^:^'^ 
 
 loS 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 insatiable desire for every refined pleasure of life, and 
 utter corruption of the soul — made to the simplicity 
 and worthy, honest life of his home. 
 
 And did not his pure, ardent love for her, the deaf 
 playmate of his childhood, attract him? Ah, he had 
 not written to her yet, writing was a difficult task, for 
 it was an art seldom taught young nobles in those 
 days, but still in the two letters to his mother which 
 he had entrusted to a friend of St. Aignan's, he had 
 sent a loving message to her — nevertheless no answer, 
 either from his mother or Angeline, had as yet arrived. 
 
 How isolated Gauthier felt in the whirl of court 
 life, for his military position in the king's guard was 
 not much more than a place of honor. The young, 
 strong man, thirsting for activity, would have preferred 
 service in the army, the constant alternations of fate 
 in the field while opposing the enemy — to his monot- 
 onous duties in Versailles. 
 
 Gauthier expressed this to his uncle and the Due 
 de St. Aignan; but only the latter thought the young 
 man's wish natural, and promised to remember his 
 desire at a suitable time. Captain de Torcy, on the 
 contrary, with the quiet experience of riper age, ex- 
 horted him to be patient. 
 
 Gauthier thanked heaven that he had at least found 
 one warm, true friend at court — for such, the Due de 
 St. Aignan had become. And was he not in the 
 youth's eyes, a pattern of a courtier, a polished man 
 of the world? 
 
 SA-.AAA.gfea««feai«. 
 
^>^w«i^»pp 
 
 A NOBLE FRIEND lOg 
 
 St.»Aignan was amiability itself. Always merry, he 
 bubbled over with witticisms and anecdotes, while his 
 attention and readiness to serve the poor insignificanl 
 novice, filled him with true emotion and the most 
 sincere gratitude. 
 
 Gauthier therefore greeted the entrance of his noble 
 patron and friend with joy, especially as he was just 
 now very sad again. 
 
 And indeed, anyone who saw St. Aignan enter with 
 his handsome face, upon which the eternal smile 
 rested like eternal sunshine, beaming with good 
 nature — must have been influenced by the charm which 
 surrounded him and banished all sadness and sorrow- 
 ful thoughts. •rEven though the Due had no money, 
 which was often the case on account of his lavish ex- 
 penditures, he was always gay! Now, too, the fright 
 and thunder of Saint Denis was long since forgotten, 
 and sunshine and merriment reigned in this frivolous 
 heart. 
 
 " Venfre-saini-grisr exclaimed the nobleman at his 
 entrance with a beaming face, while he. imitated old 
 Captain de Torcy most excellently. " Ventre-saini- 
 gris! We come, it seems, just in time to help our 
 friend catch the blues; or is Gauthier de Montferrand 
 thi^pking of his celebrity after death?" 
 
 "How would that help me. Monsieur le Due?" 
 answered Gauthier, but.St. Aignan laughingly in- 
 terrupted him. 
 
 "Monsieur le Due!" said he scornfully, "how often, 
 
 _i.'lrf.« .._ ~ J^^S«tei-._ *, _ : 
 
no 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 my friend, have I already forbidden you to call me 
 that when we are alone together. Yoy< might say, mj^ 
 friend or St. Aignan, that sounds much more in har- 
 mony with my friendship. But, my young friend, you 
 have really been thinking of your future fame, so I. 
 will tell you how it may be gained here!" 
 
 "For me it would bloom earliest on the battlej> 
 field," said the youth with a sad smile. t 
 
 "What battlefield!" exclaimed St. Aignan laughing^. 
 "One must make it, like Mazarin. To satisfy. hi^ 
 ambition, he betrayed France — to satisfy his avarice, 
 he ruined her, and yet he has obtained at this court 
 gratitude and immortality." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 "By the P&tds a la Mazarin, which he invented, and 
 which are still a favorite dish with the king and al{l 
 his courtiers." 
 
 "You are and always will be a jester," answered 
 Gauthier laughing. "Still, Cardinal Mazarin did ?i 
 great deal for the welfare of the country of his adop- 
 tion." . \ 
 
 "In which, however, he forgot his own welfare as 
 little as he denied his descent," exclaimed the Duc^ 
 sitting down upon a common leather chair which con- 
 stituted the principal portion of the furniture. "My 
 young friend, do you know the story of the cardinal 
 and the pamphlet speculation?" | 
 
 Gauthier answered in the negative. 1 
 
 *Xisten then, and learn something Irom the olq 
 
'..' **A NOBLE FRIEND* fH 
 
 gentleman: Cardinal Mazarin was once informed of 
 a shocking pamphlet against him, which had appeared 
 at a book-store. It was immediately confiscated. As 
 the dealer naturally doubled the price of the paniph- 
 let, the speculative cardinal sold it again secretly on - 
 his own account, at an enormous price. By this com- ■ 
 mercialintrigue, which he often related with delight, '^ 
 he made a thousand pistoles. " 
 
 "Clever, " said Gauthier and his brow darkened 
 again, "but surely not worthy of a man like Cardinal 
 Mazarin. Ought he not, with his position at court 
 and in the country, to give an example of virtue? " 
 
 St. Aignan laughed loudly. 
 
 "Virtue!" he exclaimed, stroking his handsome - 
 beard. "Virtue! and here at court? My young friend, 
 if you wish to make your fortune at court, you must 
 be excessively liberal in your ideas! You know the 
 pretty little story of Mademoiselle La SMuctrice PUni' 
 Potentcdre? But now, how should you know it 
 and still believe that virtue breathes in this region T* 
 
 "Unfortunately," began Gauthier; but St. Aignan 
 -interrupted him, and exclaimed with an ironical smile. 
 
 "Hush, my little friend! As I feel drawn towards 
 you as if by magic, and we have concluded a friend- 
 ship, r consider it my duty as a friend to open the 
 lungs of your conscience so wide, that you will be in 
 a condition to breathe and bear the air of the court. 
 So listen, and draw a conclusion for yourself." 
 
 len the la?^ war with the Netherlands had been 
 
 ^^^^^^^i^^Mliii^- -w.^.£;^a^ 
 
IP'W^^PHIP^S'^S^^^!^'^?^ 
 
 112 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 decided upon in the noble head of Louvois, the min- 
 ister of war, It was resolved upon in council. But it 
 was no child's play. England and Spain were to be 
 feared; it was necessary therefore to take precautionary-" 
 measures. One of the first measures was to be assured 
 of the neutrality of Spain and the alliance of Eng- 
 land. The Marquis de Villars was sent to Madrid to 
 make the Spanish Cabinet understand what an inter- 
 est it had in weakening its natural enemy, the United 
 Netherlands. But an ambassador of an entirely dif- 
 ferent sort must be sent to King Charles II of Eng- 
 land." ' I 
 
 "And what kind?" asked Gauthler. j 
 
 St. Algnan compressed his lips, smiled, and ele- 
 vated his eyebrows in so strange a fashion, that for a^ 
 moment his usually handsome face resembled that of 
 a faun. His glance was so diabolically significant 
 that, for the first time, Gauthier really shrank from 
 his noble friend. i 
 
 With a burning blush, the youth again asked In an 
 embarrassed tone, "who was sent as ambassador 
 to England?" I - 
 
 St. Aignan smiled and continued: "His Majesty 
 Louis XIV announced that he Intended to take z. 
 journey to Dunkirk and Invited the courtiers to accom- 
 pany him. ^All the magnificence and splendor the 
 king could display was paraded on this occasion; 
 thirty thousand men preceded or followed him. His 
 whole court, that is, the richest and noblest of the 
 
 'Mi^!■it&^i^iS«I^^^^Jl^^'■'^'''^■■^^^'^^^^^^'^ 
 
 rilMhiii f • 
 
Pflpw^f^^f 
 
 «* 
 
 A NOBLE FRIEND" II3 
 
 yg-i 
 
 nobility of Europe, lae most graceful and most in- 
 tellectual ladies in the world accompanied him." 
 
 "Ladies?" asked Gauthier with astonishment. 
 
 "Louis XIV is never without women," answered St. 
 Aignan laughing. "Neither in the field nor the drive. 
 His motto in this respect was and is: a court without 
 ladies is a year without spring and a spring, without 
 roses! But to the point! — -the queen and madame, 
 who was alive at that time — possessed nearly equal 
 rank, but, and here the satyr-like expression again ap- 
 peared on his face — but unprecedented sight, then fol- 
 lowed in one carriage the two mistresses of the king: 
 Madame de la Valliere, — and well, you know, Gauthier!" 
 
 "Madame de Montespan?" 
 
 "Right, who at that time often sat in the same 
 large English carriage with the king and queen." 
 
 "Monsieur le Due!" exclaimed Gauthier. 
 
 But St. Aignan motioned to him to keep Jsilence, 
 while he said laughing: "The best is yet to come. 
 Madame was accompanied by a charming person, who 
 had her secret instructions, by Louise Renc^de Pan- 
 ankoet. Mademoiselle de Queronaille, she was the 
 SMuctrice plenipotentiairer 
 
 "But, it is not possible." 
 
 "The commission was important," continued St. 
 Aignan quietly, with a pleasant smile, "and the role 
 was difficult." . 
 
 "How — I doii*t understan4/' 
 
 8 Robber 
 
 aii,:t^«aLia<.at^t^u^Ai.:>-^^..,.,,a.«,,.S£g^^^s » 
 
A RUYAL ROBBER 
 
 ..■*&■ ■■■-.-■.■,■ j- ". 
 
 "She niu§t take precedence of seven well-knowtt 
 
 mistresses of King Charles II, who at that time, iall 
 at once enjoyed the high privilege, so much sought, 
 for in England, of driving away the vexation caused 
 by His Majesty's financial embarrassments, the mur- 
 murs of his people, and the opposition of parliament." 
 
 "Monsieur le Due! " exclaimed Gauthier, flushing 
 and paling by turns, "I cannot believe whkt you say. 
 One must despair of any virtue, any morality." 
 
 St. Aignan laughed again, and said so quietly that- 
 Gauthier was horrified. 
 
 "These seven mistresses were: Countess Castle- 
 maine — Miss Stewart — Miss Wells, lady of honor to 
 the Duchess of York — Nell Gwyn, one of the gayest^ 
 courtesans of the time — Miss d'Avis, a celebrated act- 
 ress — ^^the dancer Belle Orkay, and finally,^ a Moorish 
 girl named Zinga. " 
 
 The young man looked at the Due in amazement; 
 while the eyes of the latter, as he perceived the in- 
 creasing effect produced by his story, gleamed with 
 an expression, that resembled the triumph of a fiend, 
 though he retained the same stereotyped smile, while 
 he continued as quietly as though reading a passage 
 from the Bible: 
 
 "The treaty succeeded far better' than was expected. 
 King Charles II found Mademoiselle de Queronaille 
 charming, and upon the promise of a few millions and 
 madame's consent to leave Louise de Queronaille in 
 England; King Charles II of England, agreed to every- 
 thing that France required. |^ 
 
 . ^^'^ess^^^is^'^ 
 
A NOBLE FRIEND 
 
 "5 
 
 "I am bewildered!** exclaiined the young man, 
 pressing his hand upon his brow. 
 
 "I am not," answered St. Aignan gayly. "But" I 
 will have to relate the end." 
 
 " "Was the crime not yet complete?" exclaimed Gau- 
 thier with the noble indignation of a youthful heart 
 that still believes in God and virtue. 
 
 "Why no," replied the Due with amiable irony, 
 "Mademoiselle de Queronaille remained in England, 
 where King Charles made her Duchess of Portsmouth. 
 Our gracious Lord and King, the great Louis XIV, 
 presented her in the same year with the manorial 
 estate of d' Aubigny; — that estate which Charles VII 
 in 1622 gave to Johann Stuart as a reward for the 
 great and important services which he rendered the 
 crown of France in the war against England." 
 . St, Aignan was silent. A longer pause ensued. 
 
 "Monsieur le Due!" began Gauthier at last in a very 
 grave tone, "you have had the kindness to bestow 
 upoh me the honor of your friendship. I know not, 
 in truth, how I shall ever thank you for it ; but j'our 
 affection is deeply engraved upon my heart. Who 
 else at court would have instructed me so kindly, who 
 would have distinguished m^; an insignificant youth, 
 from among the crowd, and with truly princely kind- 
 ness introduced me to the most brilliant entertain- 
 ments? To you — to you alone I am indebted for this 
 advantage, and for so much besides." 
 
 "Friend," exclaimed St. Aignan laughing, "I b^ 
 you to say no more.** 
 
•^^5BWE» 
 
 ii6 
 
 A ReYAL ROBBER 
 
 "Let me speak, my noble ' friend!" continued the 
 youth eagerly, "for it is time^ — I mustV [\ 
 
 "Well, then, go on, Gauthier, what troubles you?" 
 
 "I cannot remain here." 
 
 "Oh— ho!" I 
 
 "Procure me a place in the army, whatever it may 
 be, or let me return to my beloved Limagne." 
 
 "Gauthier!" exclaimed the Due with an expression 
 of astonishment, which, however, was contradicted by 
 a lurking glance of triumph. 
 
 ~ "Call my conduct either presumption or childish 
 homesickness, it is neither the one nor the other. 
 But by heaven — there is a heavy weight upon 
 my heart; I cannot breathe this air. Perhaps I am a 
 fool in your eyes — as my uncle says — but something 
 urges me away — into the free world, — if possible to the 
 field of honor. You, Monsieur le Due, can do what 
 you will with His Majesty, procure me a place in the 
 army, — even though it be that of a lieutenant — I will 
 do honor to you, to my native country, and to His 
 Majesty." 
 
 The young man was silent, but his eyes flashed, 
 and his heart beat almost audibly. 
 
 St. Aignan remained perfectly unmoved. The strange 
 smile still hovered round his lips; but he took pains 
 to conceal the ironical expression which generally 
 rested upon them. 
 
 "And if, my young friend, I: were prepared, to give 
 you a proof that my friendship is the truest and most 
 tender?" 
 
 V>i«i;iWW,f wair'iii»MiarA-!«atiliJifrit*itiii'!if - itfctefrf illilfli iti 
 
"a noble FRIfeND* 117 
 
 "Monsieur le Due!" exclaimed Gauthier with joyful 
 
 astonishment. 
 
 "Friendship must be capable of every sacrifice^ " con- 
 tinued St. Aginan. "To part from you, Gauthier, 
 will be hard for me, still I respect your pure, noble 
 heart, the impulse which inspires you to flee from 
 this Sodom and Gomorrah, and seek on the battlefield 
 a glorious future, I have — " 
 ' "Oh, what? what?" impetuously cried Gauthier. 
 
 "A place for you In the army!" replied the Due, 
 drawing the commission from his pocket. 
 
 "My friend.- 
 
 "But— - 
 
 "But, what?" 
 
 "It requires you to leave Versailles to-morrow and. 
 repair to the frontier." 
 
 "Anjgiivhere, so that it is away from here," cried 
 Gauthier. 
 
 "Good," said the Due. *'Then we will have a gay 
 night." 
 
 "But my mother? And Angeline?" 
 
 "Write to them both, and give the letters to me. 
 I will send them by the next royal messenger." 
 
 "Oh, thanks, a thousand, thousand thanks," cried 
 the delighted Gauthier shaking the Duc*s hand vehe- 
 mently in the excess of his joy, "how shall I repay 
 you for all this love and kindness?" 
 
 "Preserve your friendship for me, Gauthier, and 
 return a hero from the battles which await you in the 
 
 i'S^^tUtAt.i^^ ^-^S^ 
 
1x8 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 immediate future. But now write your letters jand 
 
 make the necessary preparations.** 
 
 "But my uncle," cried the young man, suddenly 
 turning pale. 
 
 "It is an order from Monseigneur Louvois, who 
 summonses you to Arras. You must obey your coni- 
 niander." 
 
 "And I do it with joy," cried Gauthier, his face 
 radiant with delight. 
 
 "Well then, adieu till we meet again this evening 
 at my hotel, for a farewell supper," said the Due, 
 offering his hand to the overjoyed youth. 
 
 But when the door had closed behind him, he burst 
 into a fiendish laugh': "Won," he murmured, "he will 
 leave Paris forever on the day that Angeline de Fon* 
 tanges arrives here." 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE CHASE AND THE DEBS. 
 
 A hunt was announced to'take place in the woods 
 of Marly. The whole court was invited; and th^ 
 Master of the Hunt, the Due de St. Aignan, as well as 
 Madame de Montespan, had exhausted themselves in 
 preparing for the festival, the former in his official 
 position, the latter as hostess to the king and court. 
 
 It was necessary for her to lay hold of every oppor- 
 tunity to warm the heart and enchain the fancy of her 
 royal lover, by acts of consideration, novelties, and 
 gayety. To-day a strategy was to be executed upon 
 -whose success or non-success rested the whole future 
 of the marquise. 
 
 'The intrigue with Gauthier de Montferrand and 
 Mademoiselle de Fontanges, conducted by these cun- 
 ning and practised allies, had succeeded perfectly up 
 to this point. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Fontanges had, in fact, arrived 
 at Versailles on the very day on which Gauthier left 
 Paris. The youth, in a former letter to his mother 
 and playmate, had described with indignation the state 
 of affairs at the court, excused the change in his 
 position by the impossibility of his living in such a 
 . 11» . 
 
 t^hmii -'"-iTi Nmn^i 
 
' >-^^^ ' 
 
 I^O 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBEH 
 
 sphere, and lastly entreated both to preserve their 
 love for him. 
 
 Angeline, especially, he ardently Implored to keep 
 the affection which had bound their hearts to each 
 other from earliest childhood. Her image would ever 
 rise before his soul like a guardian angel and soon, 
 soon— he hoped to greet her and lovely Limagne again 
 as a man, and a brave soldier. 
 
 To be sure this letter did not arrive, nor were 
 those received by the lovely Marie de Fontanges 
 written by Gauthier. But, in their inexperience and 
 innocence, neither party saw the threads of the net 
 which had been set for them, and in which they were 
 already ensnared. ^ 
 
 Gauthier, happy at escaping from the court of Ver- 
 sailles — hastened to Arras and his new path of life 
 the more joyfully, that youthful courage and vigor 
 pointed to the field of honor as his only true position. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Fontanges, on her arrival at Ver- 
 sailles, was very much surprised not to find her cousin. 
 But he had only — as she learned — gone to the army 
 for a short time, honored with a high and important 
 commission. I 
 
 He would return withi^ two or three weeks. Be- 
 sides, Angeline soon felt that she would make herself 
 ridiculous if she particularly noticed this short absence 
 of her former playmate. To be sure, she grieved in 
 secret; but the splendor and magnificence which met 
 her on every side, confused and filled her mind with 
 
 
mf^^^J^fS^gg^^^l^^- ' - - '^m-vi^, _ ^^WBBRJ- 
 
 THE CHASE AND THE DEER 121 
 
 intoxicating delight. Did not the usually haughty 
 Marquise de Montespan treat her exactly like a lov- 
 ing mother, for she could not immediately enter upon 
 her position at court with the queen. Was there not 
 a little court of charming young men about her, at 
 whose head stood Gauthier's noble friend, of whom 
 he had spoken so highly in his letters, the Due de St. 
 Aignan, the principal favorite of the king. Her cousin, 
 so said the Due, had especially recommended her to 
 his care. And what flattery, what praises of her 
 beauty, poured into her ears, and found a joyful echo 
 
 In the vain little heart. » 
 
 I 
 
 How the marquise overwhelmed her with presents 
 of every kind — how the noble lady hastened to have 
 new and beautiful dresses made for her on the spot, 
 for she could not allow her to be seen at court in her 
 country clothes. 
 
 Angeliue was intoxicated with delight, and when 
 the relative from Clermont, who had brought her to 
 Versailles, — it was the same one who had secretly 
 brought Gauthier's letters to her — returned, Angeline 
 could not sufficiently praise her cordial reception and 
 happiness In the letter to her mother, which she en- 
 trusted to her care. 
 
 And yet the greatest joy was still before her for 
 she had not seen the king, . . . Louis XIV, the 
 greatest monarch on earth. How many times the 
 thought of the joy of being preferred by such a king 
 had made the simple child from Limagne strangely 
 
122 
 
 A ROVAL &OSBER 
 
 happy. At these moments, delight, blended wi<3i a 
 sweet tremor, thrilled her whole being; and such 
 moments occurred more and more frequently, for what 
 Mademoiselle de Fontanges now heard and saw ol 
 the universal enthusiastic adoration of the king, far 
 surpassed all she had learned from her relative on the. 
 journey. ' 
 
 The result of all this, as well as the numberless new 
 and powerful impressions which rushed upon her mind 
 and excited her nervous system in the highest degree, 
 was that the old dreams awoke, and transported the 
 dazzled^ bewildered child into a kind of fairy world, 
 whose shining central point -was the great king. 
 
 Angeline thought of no evil in all this ; but 
 to be distinguished or even loved by such a prince 
 ahd knight, to see him at her feet, to outshine all 
 others — such a fortune was scarcely to be thought of 
 and comprehended. And did she not have that won- 
 derful dream, only a short time before her summons 
 to the court? The dream of the mountain and the 
 golden, purple cloud on which she floated in such 
 blessedness? And had not Per^ Hi' lire— who was so 
 celebrated for the interpretation of dreams— said: 
 "she would obtain a distinguished position at court?". 
 
 And "dreams come from God"-— said the priest. 
 Suppose she had been destined by God and fate; even 
 from her birth, to please the king by- .her beauty? 
 Must God therefore desert her. Oh, certainly not, 
 I^uis was so good, so noble i 
 
r ' THE CHASE AND THE DEER 1^3 
 
 Only one thing Angeline did not observe, that she 
 had already forsaken one person, forsaken and almost 
 forgotten her cousin and playmate, poor Gauthier. 
 ' The marquise always had • some new pleasure or 
 surprise, so that Angeline had no time forreflection. 
 Then, too, she had many things to learn; court eti- 
 .quette, how one must deport oneself, aind many such 
 things — in which, however, Madame de Montespan 
 was very careful not to disturb the expression of 
 childish innocence and country simplicity which she 
 found in the good child; for it was on this very charm 
 of novelty that she depended to ensnare the king. 
 
 Marie Angeline knew not how she could prove to 
 the noble lady the overflowing gratitude of her heart. 
 She vowed a thousand times — she would always 
 remember the marquise with filial affection, and 
 the marquise seemed to listen to the assurance with 
 pleasure. 
 
 At last the day approached on which Mademoiselle 
 de 'Fontanges was to see Louis XIV for the first time. 
 It was the day of the great hunting party in the woods 
 of Marly. The marquis©. In honor of the occasion, 
 had presented Angelin2 with a very tasteful dress 
 which the young girl had already put on, and indeed 
 she looked enchantingly beautiful in It! Her tall 
 figure was clad in a riding habit of royal-blue velvet, 
 trimmed on the arms and waist with rich, white lace. 
 The front, falling slightly apart, disclosed a closely 
 fitting vest of white satin and a skirt of the same 
 
 
 ^^^^''^^-"^^■^'^^^iininitirim^^ 
 
"4 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 material. A royal blue velvet cap, from which nodded 
 a blue and white feather, rested coquettishly upon 
 her luxuriant hair. A costly pearl necklace, the only 
 inheritanec of the Fontanges family, rose and fell 
 upon the matchless bosom, whose exquisite outlines 
 were fully revealed. | 
 
 Even the Marquise de Montespan herself wasastoat 
 ished when Mademoiselle de Fontanges entered the 
 room in this costume. The young girl was indeed a 
 dazzling beauty, and moreover, by her wealth of au- 
 burn hair and her unusually white complexion, whose 
 effect was heightened by the dress she wore — 3. beauty 
 of no common order. A single glance at that face and 
 figure could not fail to recall one of the exquisite 
 white marble statues which the old masters of antiquity 
 have bequeathed us. '^ j 
 
 Was it any marvel, that in the first mo- 
 ment of astonishment a feeling of envy and 
 jealousy, a doubt of the wisdom of her purpose, arose 
 in the mind of Madame de Montespan? But thfese 
 emotions soon vanished in the proud consciousness of 
 being a thousand times superior to her chosen rival in 
 intellect, wit, and the art of influencing and guiding. 
 Angeline was beautiful, but she was only to be looked 
 upon as a charming, insipid doll for a great royal 
 child. And the one thing necessary,' the prudent 
 woman had already secured: the most ab.solute grati- 
 tude and dependence on the part of her prot^g^e. i 
 
 Angeline, delighted at the praise lavished upon her 
 
 
 ^iim 
 
 .ii..^.^.^.....,,..^^..^. 
 
 
 mmi 
 
 --^-^^'^^ 
 
 ^^ 
 
 iiM. I 
 
w^^m^' 
 
 tHE CHASE AND THE DEER 1^$ 
 
 from the Jips of the aristocratic lady, and at the 
 thought of being presented to the king, once tnore 
 poured forth her tender, child-like love and gratitude 
 for Madame de Montespa;n. "Only be happy, dear 
 child," said the latter, gazing kindly at the beautiful 
 girl and drawing her towards her, "arid promise me 
 one thing!" 
 
 "Everything, everything," said the young girl, 
 covering Madame de Montespan's little hands with 
 kisses, "how can I thank you enough for your kind- 
 ■ ness?" 
 
 "Only promise me," continued the elder lady, "under 
 every circumstance to do nothing without the triie 
 and loving counsel of your maternal friend." 
 
 "I swear it!" exclaimed the girl, in the exuberance 
 of her gratitude. 
 
 "You are still young, still inexperienced," continued 
 the marquise, "how should you know how to conduct 
 yourself towards the court, the king, and the intrigues 
 of the wicked. Promise me therefore — whatever way 
 your fate ma}' shape itself — in every secret of your 
 heart to confide in me as your true friend, and always 
 to act according to my advice. " 
 
 "Oh how gladly I promise it," said Angeline, "1 
 feel deeply how far I, a poor awkward girl from the 
 country, am wanting in everything, and how greatly 
 you surpass me in intellect and amiability. AIM am 
 I have become through you, whom I call with pride 
 my second mother. To you, therefore, as to my 
 
 S^^^i^^.^i^l^-^'i^^J.^i&.^^^^^^'f^.n ^:^ 
 
^m^^m^ 
 
 126 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 mother, shall belong the fullest confidence of p^y 
 heart in the future." And Aageline laid her hand In 
 that of the marquise to seal the promise. 
 
 At this moment the signal of the approach of His 
 Majesty, and the court echoed on the air, for Fran- 
 9oise Athenais, Marquise de Montespan, expected hipi 
 at Marly as her guest. 
 
 Angeline de Fontanges trembled, for a moment her 
 cheek flushed and paled by turns, but she soon re- 
 gained her composure and apparent coldness. 
 
 "Come, my child!" said the marquise. "We will 
 receive His Majesty in the most cordial manner, as 
 befits so great a king and gracious a gentleman." ! 
 
 And motioning to the rest of the ladies of her suite, 
 who were in the ante-room, Madame de Montespap 
 advanced to meet the hunting party, consisting of 
 numberless horsemen and carriages. 1 
 
 They were to partake of a little breakfast at Marly, 
 and then proceed to the chase. j 
 
 The notes of the horn, the baying of dogs, cracking 
 of whips, and trampling of horses, sounded like th6 
 roar of a tempest. Such a tumult might well hav^ 
 overpowered the lamentations of a whole nationj at 
 least it drowned the voices of many a conscience^ 
 while it reminded the distant listeners of the legenc 
 of the wild huntsman. 
 
 The royal coach now came in sight. The master oi 
 the hounds, M. le Due, de St. Aignan, who rode be-- 
 side it himself, sprang from his foam-covered horse 
 
THE CHASE AND THE DEER 
 
 127 
 
 and opened the door for His Majesty. Louis XIV 
 alighted and stepped under the portals, decorated 
 with flowers and foliage, which welcomed him with 
 -their flattering inscription, as pleasantly as the woman 
 who had so long been the mistress of his heart greeted 
 him in words. 
 
 But the marquise needed only one glance to be 
 assured that His Majesty was far from being in the 
 mood she had desired. Louis XIV, so fickle in his 
 love, was weary of Madame de Montespan and there- 
 fore her kindness and flattering attentions troubled 
 him much more than her former caprices, her. obsti- 
 nacy, and the desire to rule she liad of ten manifested. 
 
 As yet he had not dared publicly to break with one 
 who had borne him six children, legitimate princes 
 and princesses, and therefore accepted for to-day an 
 invitation, which annoyed and put him out of humor. 
 
 The penetration of the marquise observed all this; 
 while her royal lover's manner plunged a thousand 
 daggers into her heart, which she multiplied a 
 hundred fold by the observation that the cowardly, 
 cringing world of the court, already began to be cooler 
 toward her. 
 
 At this moment she could have rent the father of 
 her children in pieces like an-enraged lioness, and yet 
 she loved him, and could not give him up — him and 
 the thought of being the joint ruler vof France. For 
 this reason she now played her va banque! and the last 
 trump had. slipped from her hand. The king must 
 
128 A ROVAL ROBBER 
 
 remain hers, and if her own power was no longer 
 sufficient, then, (with the aid of hell) by the help of a 
 stranger! How divinely beautiful the lovely Mad- 
 emoiselle de Fontanges appeared, as she stood among 
 the other ladies in the train of the Marquise de Mont- 
 espan, lovelier than ever in the sweet confusion into 
 which her approaching presentation to the king had 
 thrown the still inexperienced child of Limagne. But 
 poor child, the king in his ill-humor scarcely 
 sees you. The red hair only brings an expression of 
 scorn upon his lips, and turning indifferently away, he 
 says to St. Aignan with a mocking laugh. 
 
 "That wolf will not eat us!" 
 
 Madame de Montespan was fairly crushed. i 
 
 "To the chase!" cried the king, and without even 
 touching the luxurious breakfast that was prepared 
 the party withdrew into the dense woods of Marly. 
 
 With tears in her eyes and despair in her heart 
 Madame de Montespan — as was customary on such 
 occasions — entered the king's hunting carriage and sat 
 down beside His Majesty. But Louis neither saw 
 the tears, nor heard the soft reproaches of the lady. 
 He was thinking to-day of very different things 
 of Louvois and his military plans and of the latest 
 disagreeable 'intelligence from the Netherlands, from 
 Spain, and especially from Alsace, which had informed 
 him that the free German imperial city of Strassbtirg 
 would not submit to French government, nor respond 
 to the eager desires of the king. Every contradiction 
 
tHE cHaSI and the deer 
 
 129 
 
 was an abomination to Louis XIV and now came 
 tbat of the one miserable city toward which he cher- 
 ished the best intentions. 
 
 The chase would divert his thoughts— but nothing 
 else/ On reaching the appointed spot he fired with 
 fierce delight at the game which was driven past. But 
 this murder soon became tedious. He pressed farther 
 into the forest, leaving the carriages, ladies, and suite 
 far behind, till at last he entirely disappeared. The 
 master of the hounds, who never left his side in a 
 huntr"nilist, however, according to His Majesty's ex- 
 press command, continued the chase, and make the 
 court believe that the king was still at the head of 
 the gay, blood-thirst}^ horde. 
 
 The trampling of hundreds of horses resounded from 
 the distance, the wild boars, red deer, and does, broke 
 through the bushes and hedges in herds, the horns 
 sounded merrily through the dark aisles of the leafy 
 dome while the flourishes of the trumpets quickly 
 ■alternated from " a la mentef" to "d la vue" .... 
 the hounds bayed as if mad; a magnificent young stag 
 dashed by. But all this left the king unmoved. 
 
 His trusty gun-bearer — old Moustache, who had 
 taught the young Dauphin to load his ^gun when a 
 child — might walk close behind him with the loaded 
 Weapon ready to hand it to the royal hunter but Louis 
 did not take it. With deep and gloomy clouds upon 
 his brow, he thought over all the political embarrass- 
 ments into which Louvois had drawn himj of those 
 
 ^ Jiobbtr 
 
 lifitffeifl 
 
 *Jlfe3S£t__* J 
 
I30 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBEft 
 
 into which his connection with Madame de Montespan 
 had brought him, and how he could break the last 
 threads with which the marquise, who had becon^e 
 
 wearisome, still bound him. 
 
 "I am tired of women," said he to himself, "and 
 will never again wear the chain of love. Pride, am- 
 bition, and desire to rule are the only reasons whidh 
 make them yield their charms to princes. I will be 
 free, perfectly free!" j 
 
 At this moment a loud" scream ftill upon his ear, 
 and a strange vision appeared in the distance. i 
 
 A horse, white as new fallen snow, which seemed 
 to have become wild with fright, dashed along the 
 path at furious speed. It bore, she could scarcely 
 keep in the saddle, a beautiful, slender form in |a 
 white satin dress; the royal-blue velvet hunting dress 
 floated over the back of the animal. The plumes on 
 her little hat waved proudly in the air, as if nodding 
 a merry greeting to the green woods. 
 
 A smile of bitter scorn played round the^ corners of 
 the4<ing*s handsome mouth. j 
 
 At the first glance he had recognized the red-haired 
 country beauty, who had been presented to him an 
 hour before. She was probably still inexperienced in 
 riding and hunting, for the horse had apparently 
 runway with her. The king, with a certain amount of. 
 malice, was really anticipating the moment in which 
 the horse would throw her. 
 
 A still more piercing cry was heard. 
 
 
THE CHASE AND THE DEES I31 
 
 ; A powerful wild boar had forced its way through 
 the hedge opposite to the horse — the terrified animal 
 reared, and the rider fell. 
 
 The bristly monster now rushed toward her. All 
 this was the occurrence of a single moment; but in 
 this same moment Louis XIV was again the chivalric 
 prince, that — apart from his political conduct— he was 
 rightly considered. With the quickness of thought 
 he had seized the proffered gun from the hands of 
 Moustache ... a shot . . . and the wild boar fell 
 dead upon the ground. 
 
 Louis XIV was the best shot in France. 
 
 The animal fell and covered the surrounding grass 
 with blood. The horse had fled, hut his rider still 
 lay motionless upon the ground. 
 
 "Let us go to her assistance," said the king to 
 Moustache, as soon as the smoke had dispersed and 
 his quick glance had surveyed the position of things,— 
 "To be sure it is only a fox, but we are sorry for itl** 
 
 And Louis XIV, followed by his gun-bearer, ap- 
 proached the place where Mademoiselle de Fontanges 
 had fallen insensible. 
 
 But what new surprise awaited the king. 
 • Impossible! that could not be the maiden, 
 whom only an hour before, a»d even at this moment 
 he had so harshly scorned? the little girl from 
 the country, whom in his angry mood he had found 
 so ugly? 
 
 By all the saints and the Virgin of Saint Germain 
 
 laegii^g^i^jK.a 
 
l$t 
 
 A fteVAL tlOBB^ft 
 
 en Laye this was not she, this was a charmisng 
 creature who lay stretched before him. What bewitch 
 ing yet childlike features! what a dazzlingly fair com- 
 plexion! what a magnificent figure! 
 
 Oh! . how fortunate, that the branches of a thick bush 
 bad lessened the force with which she was thrown 
 from the horse and broken her fall. Insensible from 
 fright, by this fortunate circumstance she had slipped 
 softly to the earth upon a mound thickly overgrown 
 with grass and moss, upon whose upper edge rested 
 the pale, little head as if sleeping, while the delicate 
 limbs and feet scewrcely touched the lower portion. 
 
 An#what a peculiar, strange, novel charm the hither- 
 to despised auburn hair produced upon him. Its lux- 
 uriance, and the harmony between the unusual color- 
 ing and the whiteness and delicacy of the skin, 
 through which the smallest blue veins gleamed softly. 
 
 Louis XIV stood enchanted, entranced! He, whose 
 whole nature was so thoroughly sensual, glowed with 
 delight. He, who only a few moments before had 
 wished to renounce all women, was intoxicated, 
 a charm hitherto unknown, enthralled him. 
 . He knelt by the side of the fainting girl, took a 
 little, golden flask from his pocket, put his arm under 
 the beautiful head, andl^t her inhale its invigorating 
 contents. 
 
 Angellne's bosom heaved, the stiffness of death dis- 
 appeared from her limbs, her breath came more and 
 more quickly, and in a few moments the ■ beautifful 
 
^ THE CHASE AND THE DEER - J3S 
 
 blue eyes opeaed with an expression as enchanting as 
 if the rosy finger-tips o£ Aurora had drawn aside. the 
 last morning clouds from the rising sun. 
 
 And into what a sun shegaz'ed! Into what wonderful 
 deep eyes, full of a dark, passionate fire, full of strong, 
 deep love, and at the same time nobleness and great- 
 ness. Angel ine did not know what had happened to 
 her. Where was she, was this all a dream, was it 
 truth, was she living, or just awakening into another 
 world? And upon whose breast did her head rest so 
 softly? 
 
 A dim remembrance of the last few moments dawned 
 upon her, the horse's running away, her fear, the hor- 
 ror^ then a wild boar bursting through the bushes 
 and the horse's rearing, her fall, and the loss of 
 consciousness. And there lay the monster dead on 
 the ground, bathed in his blood. But who had killed 
 him? and who embraced her now so gently, and 
 tenderly? Angeline started - upi and her eyes opened 
 wide, she gazed in astonishment, questioningly, into 
 the face of her deliverer. 
 
 And she almost lost consciousness again! 
 . Just heaven! was it not the king, to whom she had 
 been presented that morning? the king, of whom she 
 heard so much that was noble? The great Louis XIV, 
 the sun of France and the world? 
 
 "Sire!" she exclaimed, growing deadly pale, while 
 a heaven of delight beamed from her face. 
 
 But the king laid her head gently upon his breast. 
 
frof^^'^^^f^^^^ 
 
 *34 
 
 : V 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 pressed a burning kiss upon her brow, and said: 
 "Rest forever upon this heart, it is the greatest and 
 
 inost loving one that beats in all France." | 
 
 He then motioned to Moustache to withdraw and 
 
 bring a hunting coach to take the unfortunate girl to 
 
 Marly. ' I 
 
 i 
 
 '^Ssjsn.- 
 
CHAPTER Xt 
 
 A DISTINGUISHED RASCAL. 
 
 Louis XIV was alone with his favorite, the Due de 
 St. Aignan. After enduring the daily torture of an 
 endless tedium at the "Lever," the " grandes entries" 
 the "secondes entries " and the "entrie du cabinet" with 
 the heroic courage necessary to a monarch, he had 
 made use of the entri-temps to be alone with the Due 
 at least for a few moments. The king was now often 
 in the mood to seek solitude, if in fact there had been 
 such a thing for him. And yet who in all his broad, 
 beautiful kingdom was more exposed to intellectual 
 solitude than he? 
 
 Can there be a greater solitude than that which 
 surrounds the wearer of a crown? and does not this 
 very solitude generate pride. The less one is sur- 
 rounded by mankind, the more superior he considers 
 himself. ■ 
 
 To-day the Ill-humor of Louis XIV had exalted his 
 unbounded pride to the uttermost. It was bad weather 
 at court, and every one trembled at the appearance of - 
 the monarch. 
 
 But what was the cause of the anger? Perhaps 
 
 «ven the king was not himself aware of the^ason. 
 
 135 
 
 iaaaitttfiV'^i'^fg-i ^^I n rAi ii M ' a^ ' ffiTr i ii i l i rtfif aia Mfiiir - 
 
136 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBSK 
 
 The position of Louis XIV in regard to Madame de 
 MonteSpan became more and more uncomfortable. 
 Since the last hunting party in the woods of Marly 
 she had lost all charm, for the king's mind was filled 
 with but one image which should not be disturbed by 
 the shadow of a Montespan and yet it did so every 
 moment. I 
 
 "Heaven and Hell!" cried Louis, stamping his foot 
 ^angrily, and casting a dark, proud glance towards 
 heaven as if he would demand its obedient co-opera- 
 tion. "We will yet be able to banish the shadow of 
 a woman who has become wearisome to us." | 
 "-St. Aignan stood at a little distance. With the 
 inborn craftiness of a true courtier, he suspected what 
 was gnawing in the breast of his royal friend, and 
 quietly enjoyed his approaching triumph over his 
 hated rival in the favor of the sovereign. j 
 
 But neither he, the marquise, nor the court knew 
 anything of the affair of Mademoiselle de Fontanges, 
 excepting that Moustache had rescued her. To be 
 sure, everyone also knew that Moustache, the king's 
 gun-bearer, was His Majesty's shadow in the chase, 
 and never left him. Still he alone had arrived at 
 Marly with the young girl. The king said nothing 
 about it, and Mademoiselle de Fontanges, it was sup- 
 posed, had not seen the king on this occasion. She 
 must be silent, because it was the king's will; and is 
 It not in many cases much more blessed to be silent 
 than to speak? Besides, Angeline was secretly aston- 
 
A WSTINGUISHED RASCAL 
 
 «37 
 
 isfaed at herself; she had never thought she possessed 
 so much talent for the court and could govern herself 
 so, well. But she was very glad that fate had renroved 
 her cousin Gauthier for the present. He was a good, 
 dear boy, but, what was he to do at court. Angeline 
 now liked to think of him as a hero, a brave general 
 on the field of honor. Outside of this she thought 
 but little of her old playmate, in fact, she could not,- 
 for she was now so much occupied with her toilette, 
 and no delight can^compare with triumphant vanity. 
 - Unobserved she drew from her bosom a ring, in 
 which a large, wonderfully brilliant diamond sparkled, 
 but what was its lustre and brilliancy in comparison 
 to her eyes? And, how she covered it with hot glow- 
 ing kisses; a-nd when she glanced up, how like a 
 queen she looked! 
 
 Louis XIV was alone with St. Aignan, but he was 
 gloomy, something was gnawing at his heart. St. 
 Aignan vainly exhausted himself in witticisms and an- 
 ecdotes. Louis XIV was philosophically inclined, and 
 looked scornfully down upon the court and men. 
 
 "You all try to rule me," he cried angrily. "All 
 who surround me, but especially Colbert, Louvois, 
 and Madame de Montespan." 
 
 St. Aignan silently triumphed; but he was a courtier, 
 striving for his own advancement. 
 
 He therefore first thought, by flattering words, to 
 present the absurdity of such a project; how could 
 common mortals dare to desire to aspire to a son of 
 
 t^gii^agLi- c^' 
 
 mm 
 
 j^^^ 
 
IjS A ROYAL ROBBER I 
 
 the Gods, to a Louis XIV, whom the world called 
 DieU'Donni. In a masterly and innocent manner he 
 recalled the most amusing anecdotes from the lives of 
 Richelieu, Mazarin, and the most celebrated mistresses 
 of present and former times, letting the king plainly 
 feel the yoke which Louvois and Madame de Montes- 
 pan wished to lay upon him. 
 
 -'With delight he watched the veins of the king's 
 brow swelling with anger, for he was more jealous of 
 his power and authorit}' than any former sovereign of 
 France. 
 
 St. Aignan, however, like a clever courtier, did not 
 let this anger come to a second outbreak, while he 
 slyly — lamenting the dizzy height of a throne— pointed 
 out the happiness of common men, 'who were allowed 
 to love according to the free choice of their hearts. 
 
 The king sighed o . .St. Aignan knew enough; like 
 a skillful artist he sketched a picture of happy love 
 in the most glowing and life-like colors, and touched 
 so skillfully upon the picture of the beautiful Made- 
 moiselle de Fontanges,®that the king rose and stepped 
 to the window to hide his emotion. 
 
 "Ah, yes," said the king, and then remained lost in 
 thought for some time. "Ah, yes, that was a delight- 
 ful age, when we, almost a boy, felt the first sensa- 
 tions of love, and were free to follow our own heart's 
 choice; where is she now, the sweet Frontenac? .... 
 and that enchanting time, when the fiery Olympia 
 Mazarin, the niece of the proud cardinal, almost died 
 
 ..^^^^^^..^..^^^.^^....A^ - 
 
DISTINGUISHED RASCAL I39 
 
 ttom lirve di us oh! we can still see the charming 
 little dimple in her cheek; — the large, beautiful 
 Sicilian eyes, which flashed like lightning — full of 
 the wild delicious fire of love — and then — the tender 
 La Valleire, with her golden hair,' sparkling brown 
 eyes, and rosy mouth — oh! heaven, how we loved her,. 
 ^almost timidly and with reverent affection." 
 
 But St. Aignan was tod adroit a man of the world 
 and too crafty a representative of his own affairs to 
 allow disagreeable thoughts to again spring up in the 
 king's mind. He flatteringly alluded to the still 
 youthful feelings of the monarch's heart, his handsome 
 person, his chivalry, and the eagerness with which all 
 the most beautiful and noble ladies of France solicited 
 his favor. The last hunting party had shown this 
 again. So long as the charming horsewomen thought 
 the king was at the head of his train, their zeal for 
 slaying the game had no end. St. Aignan was well 
 aware why he struck this note; with the remembrance 
 of the chase, the image of the lovely Mademoiselle de 
 Fontanges was recalled to his royal friend — and, in 
 fact, Louis' expression was transfigured, and a strange 
 happy smile rested upon his face. 
 
 At this moment, Laporte, the first valet and confi- 
 dant of the king, announced His Excellency, Mon- 
 sieur le Tellier, Marquis de Louvois, and His Emi- 
 nence, Prince Franz Egon von Fiirstenberg, Bishop 
 of Strassburg. 
 
 "Insufferable"— exclaimed the king — "they do not 
 
 'ifetiWlMirriiiriiiiMir^" 
 
140 A ROYAL ROfeBEft ' .j 
 
 ! 
 
 leave us a single moment in peace!" But uncori- 
 vsciously yielding to the usual influence Louvois ex- 
 erted over him, he ordered the gentlemen to be ad- 
 mitted. A few moments later the minister and bishop 
 entered with the customary three profound bows. 
 
 Franz Egon, Prince of Furstenburg, Bishop Qf 
 Strassburg, was a handsome man in the very prime of* 
 life. His tall, slender figure displayed to the best 
 advantage the violet clerical dress, gold chain, and 
 cross set with splendid diamonds which he wore. 
 His head was beautifully formed, and showed that su- 
 perficial dignity which so easily becomes natural to 
 the holders of ecclesiastical offices, but which never- 
 theless could not wholly cover an expression of sensii- 
 ality. His features were sharply cut, his hands small 
 and of an aristocratic delicacy and whiteness. There 
 was intellect in his eyes, but also an expression 
 of deep cunning. The bishop remained standing 
 opposite the king — with his head bent, waiting for 
 the monarch to accost him. ' j / 
 
 Louis XIV, indignant at the resistance of Alsace 
 and Strassburg, loaded the reverend gentleman, who 
 as we know, had formerly been recommended by 
 Louvois as a gilded key to that greatly desired portion 
 of Germany, with the bitterest reproaches. 
 
 Waiting in his humble attitude, holding the violet 
 velvet cap in his folded hands, the German prince, 
 this distinguished servant of the church, listened 
 .patiently with an air of the deepest submission to th^ 
 
 ji-iiii^irii^^^'^^'^^^''^^'^^^^^ 
 
A DISTINGUISHED RASCAL 
 
 141 
 
 thunders of the King of France. And a thunder clap 
 it was, when Louis XIV now cried: "We certainly 
 ought to have considered that, though the Lord 
 Bishop of Strassburg is connected with France by 
 many of his offices, he is still a German prince 
 and as such remains our enemy!" 
 
 ' The king was silent; but the reverend gentleman, 
 scarcely daring, in his humility to raise his head, 
 said, while his features assumed an expression of the 
 most profound submission. "Your Majesty must 
 graciously pardon me! Louis XIV, the noblest of liv 
 ing monarchs, cannot find a more sincere admirer of 
 his greatness and power, a truer and more loyal ser- 
 vant than I." 
 
 "Silence, my Lord Bishop," cried the king sternly. 
 "You might fail signally if you sought to produce the 
 proofs." "^ ' 
 
 "Sire" — replied Prince Egon, with a satisfaction 
 which would have incensed to the uttermost every 
 German heart. "Sire, I believe that I shall not have 
 to go far to prove to your Majesty, in the most strik- 
 ing manner, the loyalty and the true, French sympa- 
 thies of the house of Furstenburg although it is cer- 
 tainly a German house. " 
 
 "We are curious!" said the king coldly. 
 
 "Your Majesty will perhaps be graciously pleased 
 to recall the time" — continued Furstenburg with a 
 mild, insinuating voice — "in which Mars, the warrior 
 god of our age, Louis XIV, at the peace of AiK %^ 
 
142 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 Chapelle, devised the plan to capture Holland]'* 
 
 "To the point!" cried the king. I 
 
 "We are at the point," continued the bishop with a 
 touch of pride: "at that time there were in Gerrriany 
 three brothers of the House of Fiirstenburg, who 
 proved themselves most active in toiling for your 
 Majesty and France. One of them, Wilhelm Eon 
 yon Fiirstenburg — -the right hand of the elector Maxi- 
 milian, Heinrich of Cologne, persuaded the latter to 
 enter into an offensive and defensive alliance with 
 your Majesty against Germany." i 
 
 "In which he sold his country to France!" thought 
 the Due de St. Aignan, who stood behind the king's 
 chair, and cast a scornful glance at the German 
 prince. 
 
 "Such is the case" — said Louvois, and added with 
 an expression of scorn — "Your Majesty surely remem- 
 bers the sacred clause." 
 
 "Yes" — replied the king haughtily. "Besides three 
 public articles, the document of the treaty contained 
 one other, which alone was valuable, while the three 
 were onlj' made for the sake of appearances." 
 
 "And by virtue of this secret article," added Furst- 
 enburg — "the Elector consinged the fortress of Nuys 
 to your Majesty. " 
 
 "In other words," thought St. Aignan— "he deliv- 
 ered his country and subjects up to the enemy." 
 ^ "And the secret clause," interposed Louvois mock- 
 ingly — "was by no means bad, .it brought his High- 
 
0, 
 
 ^ .A DISTINCmSHED RA5CAI. f43 
 
 ness, the Prince von Furstenburg, four hundred thou- 
 sand livres." 
 
 'Prince Egon looked as if he had not heard the last 
 words. Considering the treachery of his family to 
 their native land as an honor, he continued in a fawn- 
 ing tone, still maintaining the same humble attitude. 
 
 "Your Majesty wi.ll also remember a similar pro- 
 ceeding on the part of Wilhelm's two brothers. And 
 is not the fourth a colonel in your Majesty's service? 
 Has he not, although a German Prin>ce, renounced the 
 service of the Emperor for the honor of serving under 
 the flag of Louis XIV? Did he not, when ambassador 
 at Cologne, intrigue against his own country in order, 
 ' if possible, to prevent the declaration of war?" 
 
 Here Prince von Furstenburg paused, as if to ob- 
 serve the impression his information had upon the 
 king. A disagreeable smile, the expression of his 
 servile soul, played about his lips, 
 
 "But you, my Lord Bishop" — exclaimed the king 
 impatiently — "what have you done? Where are the 
 . fulfillments of the promises you made me in regard to 
 Alsace and Strassburg?" 
 
 "Sire" — replied the bishop quietl}^, but with an 
 humble, crafty manner — "my weak hands have sown in 
 the name of the Lord, that Louis, XIV, whom the 
 voice of the people so beautifully and truly calls Dieu 
 Donn^, can at some time reap." 
 
 "By our dear Lady of Saint Germain!" cried the 
 king- — "the seed must be very small, at least our eyes^ 
 cannot discover it." 
 
 i^^afcia,aa»iwja..f^ 
 
"You rest in the hearts and minds of thousands." 
 
 "How so?" i 
 
 "Your Majesty knows that since the accursed time 
 of the Reformation, Alsace has been almost entirely in 
 the hands of heretics. Odious Lutheranism, like a poi- 
 sonous weed, has taken root there, and even the proud 
 and holy temple of the Lord, the magnificent cathe- 
 dral of Strassburg, which created pious enthusiasm ior 
 the holy mother church, is in the hands of the fallen 
 ones. " 
 
 "And did you not promise us to lead the wandering 
 sheep back to the fold?" / 
 
 "Yes, Sire." 
 
 "And—" 
 
 "Upon this field, with the blessing of the Lord, I 
 have industriously labored. To be sure, my work was 
 met by a strong opposition".... J 
 
 "What is opposition!" exclaimed the king. "The 
 arrogant seek occupation, and the people oppose them 
 if it goes too far; as young lambs butt each other 
 when they are satisfied with their mother's milk. But" 
 a good shepherd nevertheless drives them in pairs." 
 
 "Pardon me your Majesty" — answered the bishop, 
 with a still more humble bow — "nothing can be done 
 here by force, here we must use the mild means of 
 persuasion, deceit, and where they do not sufiSce, 
 bribery." • .' 
 
 "And what have you accomplished by these mild 
 means, as you call them, ray Lord Bishop?" 
 
 i^m^Migmi 
 
A DISTINGUISHED RASCAL 
 
 145 
 
 ''Much, Sire! and I came to Versailles to lay the 
 report at your Majesty's feet." 
 
 The bishop now related in detail how <Jie had sent a 
 number of distinguished priests into Alsace, and 
 through them had secretly worked upon the people, 
 partly in the spirit of the only, blessed, holy, catholic 
 church, partly in the interest of France. His emis- 
 saries, disguised as traveling merchants, soldiers, and 
 wandering handi-craftsmen, were especially commis- 
 sioned to work upon women, as theit, influence upon 
 the obstinate men might be of the greatest import- 
 ance. Louvois had assisted him not a little in the 
 cities and provinces which had already been incorpo- 
 rated into France, by sending to some a number of 
 catholic troops and ofiicers, and in others. by the pas- 
 sage of new laws and ordinances, by which only cath- 
 olics were permitted to fill vacant offices and posi- 
 tions. Moreover Louvois and Fiirstenburg now labored 
 together so well, that in the portion of Alsace already 
 incorporated with France, no one could obtain prefer- 
 rnent unless he belonged to the Catholic Church. 
 Only in Strassburg itself were the endeavors of the 
 pious bishop still unsuccessful; although his plans 
 were naturally, first of all directed to this city and 
 the recovery of the noble cathedral. But here, in the 
 free German city, raised by commerce and manufact- 
 ure, dwelt a well to do middle class, plain and of 
 true German feeling. Here, where since the Refor- 
 mation Luth^ranism ha4 found a eeaterj where a Gut- 
 
 /O Robber 
 
14^ 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 teiiburg and many other brave men had worked and 
 spread education; where there were scarcely a hundred 
 catholic fam^iesi here, the secret intrigues of the 
 bishop had as yet effected but little. 
 
 With single families, the emissaries of the bishop 
 had already succeded so far that they only awaited 
 the proper time to become openly catholic. To be 
 sure^ they were still few in numbers; but these secret- 
 ly treacherous families belonged to the higher and 
 more influential class. 
 
 The bishop explained all this to His Majesty fluent- 
 ly and in detail. Louis himself was more than once 
 astonished at the expedients and treacheries so pious 
 a man knew how to employ to attain his end. 
 
 Btjt the principal point was, that Prince Egon now 
 proved to Louis XIV, that he could probably never 
 win and incorporate into France this beautiful piece 
 of German earth, — Strassburg, the fortress on the 
 road to Germany — the key to the German empire, un- 
 less at least a portion of the population was drawn 
 over to the one holy church by his endeavors. He, 
 Prince von Furstenburg, glowed with an ardent desire 
 to take Louis XIV into Strassburg,- as its Lord and 
 King, and have its cathedral given back toffee mother 
 church! 
 
 The German prince urged this — which was in fact 
 nothing but that he wished to become a trs^itor to his 
 country — so zealously before the king, that the latter 
 sould not forbear to praise him. 
 
 b^ii 
 
 ^mstsi^rM't^--^ ■-^i.iaSai.it^^AdissM 
 
jn msnsGviftum i^ascal 
 
 147 
 
 Louvois, too, commended the bishop's zeal to his 
 master, and both recognized only too well what an 
 excellent instrument for their plans they had found in 
 this man, though, in the depths of their souls, they 
 despised him as a traitor to his own country. 
 
 The conversation next turned upon the essential 
 point for the common business; that of the money to 
 be given to the prince. His Majesty at this audience 
 promised the bishop a brevet, according to which he 
 was to receive 60,000 livres yearly; while the bishop 
 promised on the other hand, not only to continue to 
 proselyte Alsace and Strassburg to the utmost of his 
 ability — but also, to tear away Strassburg from the 
 German Empire and incorporate it into France. 
 
 After the conclusion of this treaty, Prince Franz 
 Egon, with a radiant face and the dignity of a holy 
 man of the church, left the palace accompanied by 
 Louvois. 
 
 saa^^>.sks&iifc..^r:£.i^,6„.:,.:-. .,x^»*s44^ai..^.^>^,.^^ 
 
-^ >; 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 "the catastrophe.' 
 
 A peculiar atmosphere, apainfully depressing sultri- 
 ness reigned in those days at the court of Ver- 
 sailles, and especially in the narrow circle which sur- 
 rounded the king. - - j 
 
 Day by day, Louis XIV became more inaccessible, 
 gloomy, and morose, and yet the Due de St. Aignan 
 often, surprised him in an almost extraordinary texcite- 
 ment. His keen eye saw plainly the true state of 
 affairs; the king loved and was fortunate in his love, 
 and who other than the charming Mademoiselle de 
 Fontanges could be the object of his passion, although 
 His Majesty had not as yet spoken a word on the 
 subject. ' I . 
 
 But did this clever 'courtier require a confession from 
 the monarch's mouth? He, who from the first 
 arrival of little Mademoiselle de Fontanges, in which 
 he bad substantially assisted, had approached the 
 simple innocent child from the Limagne as a friend, 
 , and surrounded her with his almost irresistible kind- 
 ness—could easily discover in the young heart, so little 
 used to court customs, a secret which was hidden even 
 
 from the marquise. . i 
 
 148 
 
.**THE CAtASTROPHE** 
 
 14$ 
 
 The Due used every means in his power to come 
 upon the right track, to rule the king through the 
 new mistress, and at the same time overthrow and 
 supplant her, who till now had possessed the king's 
 heart and been foolish and blind enough to make com- 
 mon cause with St. Aignan, in order to enchain it still 
 longer. 
 
 Courtiers think only of themselves and their own in- 
 terests. Who would seek among their ranks for friend- 
 ship, confidence, gratitude, or any other childish off- 
 spring of a sentimental heart- . 
 
 St. Aignan now courted — where he could do so un- 
 observed — the favor of the beautiful Mademoiselle 
 de Fontanges, as he would have done that of a queen. 
 ' And the king? Was it only a caprice, ... or 
 from the dislike of causing a public rupture with 
 Madame de Montespan? . . . that he still restrained 
 himself, though his heart beat with passionate throbs 
 for this new object of his affection. 
 
 In this state of mind, it would have been easier for 
 Louis to declare war against half of Europe, than to 
 take a decided step. A hundred times he had deter- 
 mined to speak his will, as usual, with absolute 
 decision, and require the most implicit obedience, but 
 again a hundred times a vague something checked 
 the outburst of his passion. 
 
 It was a little remnant of honorable feeling, a spark 
 of attachment to the mother of his six children — 
 which, to the real annoyance of the king, still lingered 
 

 150 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 in his breast. His Majesty was indignant at this 
 childish emotion, which was" probably all very well for 
 common people, but surely not for a crowned head. 
 He felt injured and this put him out of humor 
 and made him irresolute. I 
 
 But the bitterest way in which injuries affect us, is 
 by obliging us to hate. Thus Louis began to hate the 
 one whom he had formerly loved. \ " 
 
 And Angelina de Fontanges? '\ 
 
 The poor child did not comprehend where she was! 
 
 How could she explain the king's manner, his 
 reserve, hi9» silence towards her? — after. Jie had thrown 
 himself at her feet in that happy hour, had entreated 
 her, in a storm of the wildest passion, for her love — 
 which Angeline could not withhold from her king, the 
 ideal of her soul, so long adored in dreams. 
 
 And now, did Louis regret what he had confessed , 
 and sworn to the blushing, delighted child! 
 
 The king at her feet — the earth had no longer any 
 value for her. The boldest dreams of her vain little 
 heart were surpassed— And what visions for the 
 future? If the king, Louis XIV, bowed into the dust 
 before her beauty, who of the whole world remained 
 that must not follow the first of mortals? 
 
 And now? Could all this have been but a dream? 
 Why this reserve? To be sure, now and then a glance 
 from the king threw Heaven and Paradise into her lap. 
 Then her heart would cry out; "Yes, yes, he loves 
 me stilL Only wait, be patient till it is possible for 
 
"the catastrophe**"" 151 
 
 him to raise you like a queen before the whole world. 
 He will do it, and then everything the heart can desire 
 or strive for will be fulfilled." 
 
 And she thought of the cloud, which she had once 
 seen glistening in purple and gold and which had 
 enveloped her and raised her to a height of bliss. 
 
 The position of Madame de Montespan was a des- 
 perate one. The usually clever woman, who knew 
 Louis so thoroughly, seemed this time to have made 
 a mistake. The king had said, "That is a wolf that 
 will not eat us," and as if by magic, he, who was 
 usually fire and flame at the sight of every new beauty, 
 i;emained perfectly cold and indifferent to this charm- 
 ing girl. 
 
 The anger of the marquise knew no bounds. What 
 a sacrifice this intrigue had cost her avarice, what, a 
 sum she had been obliged to pay St. Aignan alone, 
 under the pretext that it was necessary for the demands 
 of the intrigue; for the treasury of the genial, amiable 
 spendthrift was bottomless, and nothing had come 
 from the damnable conjuration of the devil. 
 
 The instrum.ent was good for nothing, and she 
 was determined to get rid of it at the first opportunity. 
 Mademoiselle de Fontahges must return to Limagne. 
 The friendliness the marquise had hitherto displayed 
 towards Angeline, turned into coldness and severity 
 and her conduct towards the poor child betrayed ac- 
 tual hatred and scorn. 
 
 But St. Aignan secretly flattered her all the more. 
 
 m^^^m^Se^ 
 
151 "a royal robber . . 
 
 How pleasantly and kindly he knew how to give her 
 courage, to hint obscurely at a happy, brilliant future. 
 Angeline did not undrstand him, but she saw that he 
 alone still sought hey favor, and this flattered her. She 
 felt that he wished her well, and this drew her towards 
 him. 
 
 The Marquise de Montespan knew nothing of this. 
 She was still too much occupied with her awn posi- 
 tion, which was so perfectly unbearable that only a 
 desperate stroke could save her. 
 
 The king was like ice. She trembled every moment 
 in fear of the outbreak cf his displeasure. Every 
 anchor had lost its hold, her life boat was staggering 
 like a wreck m the storm of the royal disfavor, the 
 fear of going down almost broke her heart. 
 
 It was horrible to retreat from her position, which 
 was more important than that of the queen. The 
 thought of no longer ruling the king, — and through him 
 France — no longer being sovereign hsrse If, was un- 
 bearable. ' 
 
 But the ministers Louvois and Colbert, the Due de 
 St. Aignan, Monseigneur, and the king's confessor 
 recognized that the moment had now come when they 
 must gain the undivided favors of Louis, if they ever 
 wished to rule him. ' ' 
 
 Each put forth all his strength to attain this end. 
 Each secretly labored at his well-laid plan, which 
 aimed at the overthrow and destruction of his rival. 
 And yet outwardly there were only smooth, friendly 
 
 iimnii ffi iito 'tn f-iiBiimrmBaifi4 
 
TBEE CATASTROPHE 
 
 153 
 
 faces, they, smiled In the most engaging manner and 
 loaded each other with civilities. 
 
 The conflict between the different interest and pas- 
 sions at the court had now reached its highest point. Col- 
 bert depended upon the finances, Monseigneur sought 
 to make the influence of his near relationship felt, 
 Lpuvois urged war, the confessor a chiristian life, 
 Madame de Montespan exhausted herself in assurances 
 of- affection all for one object and the keen eyes 
 of Louis XIV read them all with the exception 
 of St. Aignan, who craftily stood behind Ange- 
 line. 
 
 -A little, unimportant occurrence sprung the mine, a 
 grain of sand was the cause of a thundering, destroying 
 avalanche. . , . 
 
 Louis had just received the congratulations of his 
 court upon a victory gained by his troops in one of 
 the colonies. He was still in the large, golden salon 
 but the crowd had retired, as the Marquise de Montes- 
 pan apparently wished to exchange a few words alone 
 .with His Majesty. 
 
 The king, gloomy jis ever, took his seat in one of 
 the gilded arm-chairs, of which there were only two in 
 every apartment, in case both their majesties wished 
 _to sit down. 
 
 When the king sat down — the queen with her suite 
 fcad retired to her own apartments — the marquise 
 stepped confidently forward. With almost superhuman 
 exertion^, she had crushed down all her cares and 
 
 ^R53b3 
 
 as» 
 
t54 
 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 troubles, and given herself the appearance of the bright 
 calmness, which, in happier times, had made her so 
 dear to the king. I 
 
 Louis did not observe it. With cold, gloomy polite- 
 ness he asked what she wished. 1 
 
 He could not see how the coldness of his tone, the 
 ceremonious politeness of his words, froze the blood in 
 her veins. Her nerves, which were before excited to 
 the uttermost, quivered almost convulsively, and only 
 the strength of character of a de Montespan would have 
 found it possible In such a position to repress tears. 
 
 But she would and she was mistress of herself. 
 One learns at court, and as mistress to a king, to con- . 
 quer oneself. i 
 
 With a loving voice she personally offered her con- 
 gratulations; but with the tact of a woman of intellect, 
 before the king suspected It, she knew how to pass 
 over to the happiness of former days. 
 
 She was probably once more reminded of the perlsh- 
 ableness of such happiness, for Louis had never before "^^ 
 allowed her to stand at his side. To-day there was no 
 sign for a page to bring a stool. But this, now cus- 
 tomary neglect, which In the presence of the court 
 must have been doubly painful to the marquise, she 
 forbore to notice. 
 
 "And does your Majesty no longer think of those 
 bright days when Frangolse Athenais was so happy as 
 to drive away the dark clouds from the brow of her 
 adored lord and king?" she said sadly. 
 
■"^^rwrr 
 
 "the catastrophe" 155 
 
 ' "It was somewhat long ago," said the king dryly. 
 "We have bcome older and quieter, madame. " 
 
 The marquise bit her lip; the remark was malicious 
 enough. 
 
 "True, earnest love never grows old," she said — 
 "How happy I should consider myself, if I might share 
 the trouble which seems lately to have depressed my 
 noble lord." - 
 
 "Affairs of state!" said the king. "We prefer to keep 
 them to ourselves —firstly, because we wish to reign 
 alone, and secondly, because thinking of such things is 
 too wearing for ladies, and thereby makes them' old 
 before their time." 
 
 "Age again!" thought the marquise. 
 
 "Pardon me, Sire!" she said in a trembling voice 
 — "Louis XIV, the great, the shining star of his cen- 
 tury, needs no helping hand to wield the scepter of 
 France and the world; — so far my thoughts would 
 never ascend; I only seek to cheer the heart of my 
 king! But confess it yourself. Sire, matters are no 
 longer on their old footing between us. How has* 
 your Athenais deserved this, Louis?" 
 
 "The old, unfounded reproaches," he answered 
 angrily, F 
 
 "Unfounded?" repeated the marquise. "Could you 
 but count. Sire, the nights I have spent in weeping." 
 
 "You are nervous, madame 1" replied the king. 
 "Call in a physician and" strengthen yourself by the 
 fresh, country air." 
 
 da^.a^s^-.^^^;,.^,.aaite^A!i^-^.^a:^-i-^^^ .., -"^-lijlrnl^ 
 
^^^1^^^ 
 
 --j»r ^^-^ 
 
 ^ / 
 
 ^5^ 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 Madame de Montespan trembled! It had gone so far 
 already. An idea of banishment? There were two 
 great tears in her eyes. She intentionally let them roll 
 slowly down, so that the king must perceive them, and 
 then said: i - 
 
 "It would be too hard for me to part from the children 
 which God and your Majesty have given me." i 
 
 But here Madame de Montespan had touched a 
 sensitive spot. Precisely because she was the mother 
 of his children — so unjust is man in his moods and 
 his egotism — she was burdensome to the king, and till 
 now she had restrained him from dismissing the 
 burden. i : 
 
 "I think, madame," replied Louis, even more indig- 
 nant than before "the Due de Maine and his brothers 
 and sisters are legitimate princes and princesses, and 
 provided for as such. You need take no farther 
 trouble about their fate for they are the children 
 of France." 
 
 But what mother would let her children be taken 
 from her without resistance? A feeling of bitter in- 
 dignation arose in the soul of the marquise. 
 
 "Your Majesty, "she said sharply, though her voice 
 trembled, "they are my children too." 
 
 "Six," answered the king courtly and sternly. "We 
 fear that they have shattered your nervous system, nay 
 —almost — your mind I" 
 
 "Your Maje^sty," cried the marquise turning deadly 
 pale. 
 
 J&&m.^: ^...^^..s^te^X^ 
 
. " **TH« catastrophe'* 157 
 
 "You are growing tiresome as usual lately said the 
 king. 
 
 But now the long repressed anger burst the fetters 
 forged by despair. 
 
 "What"! she exclaimed in a smothered voice, while 
 her bosom heaved passionately, "are these the thanks 
 with which Your Majesty repays my faithful love, my 
 self-sacrificing devotion? Have I exposed myself to 
 the scorn of others to be insulted by you in such a 
 manner?" 
 
 The king laughed aloud. , 
 
 "A scene," he said mockingly. "But, madame, you 
 forget that fortunately we are not married like shop- . 
 keepers." 
 
 'Fortunately?" repeated the marquise slowly* 
 
 "Remember where you are!" said the king angrily, 
 *'the court wait^ in the background." 
 
 "And think. Sire, that not only the court is present,* 
 cried the marquise violently, "but God,, whose justice 
 I invoke." - 
 
 The king had heard enough. He made a movement 
 to rise, saying: 
 
 — "Yoa are making yourself ridiculous, madame. 
 Gease this farce. And if you wish for our well meant 
 counsel, it is this: if you do not prefer the quiet of a 
 country life, we would, if in your place, look about 
 for a cloister. Court life is becoming too burdensome 
 for one of your age^" • 
 
 The marquise wished to answer, but her voice failed. 
 
 
'-5r"V -'^-W^f^! 
 
 '^^^fS^Wf^^s?^^^^^^ 
 
 158 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 The whole fury of her passion threatened to break 
 forth— 'but recollecting herself, she pressed her fingers 
 tightly together, stamping her left foot, as was her 
 custom when angered. ! 
 
 A diamond buckle became loosened from the satin 
 
 i 
 shoe. I 
 
 Heaven be praised ! there was now an escape for 
 her anger. ' 
 
 With flaming eyes she gazed round the circle and 
 her glance fell upon Mademoiselle de Fontanges, who 
 was standing among the rest of her ladies. 
 
 "Mademoiselle de Fontanges!" she exclaimed. 
 
 The king flushed crimson, and then turned pale. 
 
 Angellne modestly approached although her heart 
 almost refused service in the near presence of the 
 king. I 
 
 She now stood beside the marquise. I 
 
 "What can I do for you, madame?" she asked in a 
 whisper. • ^ , j 
 
 "Fasten the buckle of my shoe!" replied the Mar- 
 quise de Montespan. j 
 
 Angeline turned pale. Her pride rose against this 
 unprecedented insolence especially in the presence 
 of the king and court. She,^ a daughter of one of the 
 the oldest families in Limagne; she, the most beauti- 
 ful of all these ladies; she, to whom the king had 
 declared his love — was she to serve the marquise like 
 a common waiting^maid in the presence of this very 
 king and bis court? 
 
 ^ 
 
**THE CATASa'ROPHE** 
 
 159 
 
 Never. '' 
 
 "Be quick'" cried Madame de Montespan with 
 another stamp of her foot. 
 
 "I will call your waiting-maid," answered Angeline, 
 trembling in every limb. 
 
 But the anger of the marquise had overpowered ■ her 
 to such a degree that she forgot everything abtfut her. 
 No longer mistress of herself, she raised her hand and 
 the next moment a slap resounded through the hall. 
 
 A- long mark burned on Angeline's cheek. She 
 staggered back with a loud cry. Two other ladies 
 belonging to the suite of the marquise, hastened for- 
 word and supported her. 
 
 But the king had also started up with a thundering- 
 "hold!" ' . 
 
 The whole court was agitated. A death-like stillness 
 followed the first stormy outbreak of passion. 
 
 "Madame! " said Louis XIV, now standing erect, 
 and in fact at this moment he resembled an angry 
 god, "madame, you are ill , . . we have already said 
 so, your nervous system is shattered and requires rest. 
 Within twenty-four hours you will k.ave Versailles and 
 repair to your country seat of Tonnay-Charante, where 
 you will remain till it pleases us to issue other com- 
 mands!" 
 
 "LouisI" faltered the marquise, and sank fainting 
 upon the ground. 
 
 The king did not see her. Turning to Angeline he 
 said so loud that the whole court might hear: 
 
^-w^^mww^' 
 
 l$0, A tL4yVAh tlOBBER 
 
 *'Madame la Duchesse de Fontanges! From this 
 day you will fill the position of first lady of honor to 
 her majesty, the Queen!" j _ - -l; 
 
 "Sire!" cried Angeline, confused and embarrassed. 
 
 But Louis XIV bent gently towards her, and 
 whispered: *" j 
 
 "Do you remember the hour In the woods of ^arly? 
 Will. you reject the ardent love of your king?" j 
 
 "No, no," whispered Angeline. { 
 
 "Then give me your hand, Madame la DtichesseV* 
 said the king, once more aloud, as he gallantly ex- 
 tended his right hand to Angeline, who laid hers softly 
 on the tips of his fingers. j . 
 
 "We will present you to Her Majesty, and install 
 you in your office. After to-morrow, you will occupy 
 the apartments in the palace, which till now, have 
 belonged to the Marquise de Montespan." j ___ 
 
 And with these words His Majesty, by the side of 
 the beautiful Angeline, followed by the whole court, 
 which had scarcely recovered from its astonishment, 
 went towards the queen's apartments. j ~ 
 
 One person alone remained behind in the great hall. 
 
 He was a young man, who stood pale, rigid, and 
 motionless, like a marble statue. l 
 
 The uniform he wore was in disorder and cdvered 
 with dust, for he had just arrived as courier from 
 Arras, with important dispatches for the Minister of 
 War. I 
 
 "Monsieur le Due, what in the name of all the saints 
 
 ;;■<•:::; '.. .. " . ■ ■" ;_^ _ ^ --.J • 
 
"the catastrophe" l6l 
 
 does what I have just seen, mean? ** he asked of St. 
 Aignan. 
 
 "How does my cousin, Angeline de Fontanges chance 
 to be here? What is there between her and the king?" 
 
 "What Is It?" replied the courtier in a sorrowful 
 tone, quickly recovering himself, "it means that Made- 
 .moiselle de Fontanges Is now Madame la Duchesse 
 de Fontanges, and theklng'snew mistress!" 
 
 "Monsieur le Due!" cried Gauthler, laying his hand 
 upen his sword, but the procession had passed. 
 Gauthler stood as If benumbed. i 
 
 In the evening, the rooms which the new Duchesse 
 occupied In the palace of Versailles till the departure 
 of the Marquise de Montespan, were brilliantly 
 lighted, Louis XIV honored the charming Angeline de 
 Fontanges with his presence. 
 
 Once only they were disturbed in their happiness 
 by a shot. But it was only a momentary interruption. 
 Nothing more was thought of the matter. It was only 
 a young officer, who had shot himself under the 
 window. 
 
 He threw away hope, like a cripple who Is disgusted 
 with his crutch. He was ashamed to weep, but also 
 to live. 
 
 H 
 
 
PART 11. 
 
 A GERMAN CITY. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 STRASSBURG. 
 
 Who does not know, who does not love the beauti- 
 ful, glorious Rhine whose naime, as Schenkendorf 
 happily says, rhymes so well with — wine? . ; 
 
 The world debates as to whether the Rhine is, or is 
 not a German river. The Rhine is a picture of the 
 German as he is, his very self — a hapless Faiist. 
 
 And Strassburg — If, as a poet has described it^ 
 Alsace is "the heart of Germany torn out," then the 
 city of Strassburg, which lies upon the left side of 
 the breast of the child, is the "heart of Alsace." As 
 all the arteries in man radiate from the heart and all 
 the veins return to it, so that it promotes and regu- 
 lates the whole circulation, so do the highways lead- 
 ing to all parts of Alsace radiate outwards from Strass- . 
 burg. 
 
 The principal rivers, Rhine, 111, and Breusch, flow 
 ^together here. This city forms the central point of 
 
 Western Europe. 
 
 168 
 
 ieSt^^mS^am 
 
" STRASSBURG 163 
 
 In those days Strassburg was a proud and beautiful 
 city — a true pearl among the towns of the German 
 empire and its banner ever floated in the van of the 
 free cities, directly behind the Imperial eagle. 
 
 Even under the rule of the Romans, Strassburg was 
 a municipal town, and as such, had the privilege of 
 choosing its own magistrates and in a certain degree* 
 governing itself, which high and important right it 
 retained under the dominion of the Franks, and also 
 that of the German empire, for' Strassburg and Alsace 
 were and are of true German origin, as is proved by 
 .their very names: Strassburg — the "citadel of the 
 roads" — and Elsass, the "seat of the Alemanni." 
 . The city made its own laws, coined its own money, 
 , maintained its own troops, and held the first place 
 among the free cities in thie empire. 
 
 Kings, princes and republics solicited its friendship 
 and concluded treaties with it; even the most power- 
 ful nobles in the vicinity considered it an honor to be 
 enrolled among the citizens of Strassburg. 
 
 But, like everything else in the world, these flattering 
 advances from the nobility had two sides. Towards 
 the commencement of the twelfth century so many 
 aristocratic families had become citizens of Strass- 
 l)urg, that their influence began to be paramount, and 
 thus by degrees they obtained possession of all the 
 higher city offices and in the course of time monopo- 
 lized them so completely that they almost became 
 hereditary. 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^^^^^^■^-^^^ 
 
!fi^i*-"^K: 
 
 ^ ^5?w«5WFf»we^j«»^53 
 
 !«♦ 
 
 ROYAL KOBBSR 
 
 The municipal goverment of the ancient, free city 
 of Strassburg, rested upon the various guilds; its 
 laws grew from this firm foundation, and only when 
 the universal storm of the revolution of 1789 destroyed 
 the government of Strassburg, did the powerful blows 
 of the new spirit of freedom uproot the guilds. 
 
 hm-fiiii - riifflitiiiilfifr rrl v-.>--.^...^v>---..^.^-^:^*^^.^": .^^•:^->-;^-^^..i:fe#i'-iif ftgiiy l^^ 
 
■ ~- •■/: 
 
 CHAPTER XIV: 
 
 THE TAILOR. 
 
 One of the most important days m the city life of 
 Strassburg had returned with the close of the year. 
 It was called the Schwortag, the time when the cit- 
 izens of the old Argentorum— the ancient free city — 
 felt the full glory if their republican dignity. The 
 citizens of Strassburg had sworn allegiance to the 
 newly-elected Ammeister Rathsherren and the old 
 "Schworbrief" of 1482. 
 
 The same scene, that had been witnessed each year 
 for centuries, had taken place that day, but on this 
 day the glasses clinked with a doubly joyous ring to 
 the welfare and prosperitj^ of the sacred German Em- 
 pire, the beautiful, t)eloved, native land and Mis 
 Majesty, the Emperor Leopold I. 
 
 But the wildest mirth of all was undoubtedly in 
 the drinking-room of the Schneider-zunft.* It was a 
 large apartment for the Strassburg Schneider zunft in 
 those days numbered more than four hundred mem- 
 bers. The room was therefore necessaril3^ a large one, 
 although only intended to accommodate the masculine 
 members of the guild; and it was not only large and 
 
 165 
 
 • TMlers guild, kail. 
 
 ^&£iai^e^^M£^c . 
 
l66 A ROYAL ^R^ 
 
 lofty, but according to the ideas of the times, hand- 
 somely furnished. ^ ' 
 
 But the whole room — now that the visit of the new 
 Ammeister had been received — was filled with tables 
 and benches, around and on which sat worthy com- 
 rades drinking and talking gayly to each othen At 
 one table alone, close under the banner— sat four 
 magistrates, distinguished by their black robes, whose 
 cut recalled the Spanish costume: the Rathsherr 
 Stosser, Dr. Obrecht, Dr. Ecker and the council and 
 city clerk, Giinzer. j 
 
 These distinguished gentlemen drank their wine to- 
 gether, and their whole manner displayed a certain 
 shade of anxiety, though they raised and touched 
 their glasses with remarkable cordiality whenever any 
 of the worthy tradesmen present drank their healths. 
 Their conversation was principally conducted in whis- 
 pers, while Gunzer's sharp eyes kept a cautious watch 
 that no one listened or approached them. If either of 
 these things happened, he set down his glass in the 
 middle of the table with a certain air of carelessness, 
 and they relapsed into silence. . - 
 
 This now occurred, and the gentlemen exchanged 
 
 glances, as a singular, almost comical figure appeared 
 
 before them, glass in hand. > ^ 
 
 ' ' ' /■ ~ ■'■.,..■■.■..■'■ 
 "The French-hater," Gunzer hastily whispered, 
 
 "we must be cautious." 
 
 ."The old fool!"- muttered Stosser. i 
 
 'The scoundrel!" added Dr. Obrecht. 
 
 iteiSMtiMitiiMir-"ii^ 
 
.. the; TA«,0R ' 167 
 
 At this moment, the man of whom the gentlemen 
 had made such kindly mention came up to them. 
 
 It was the tailor Franz BlasiusWenck— assuredly a 
 peculiar personage. The man was about sixty years 
 old. His figure was small and bent, and as his head 
 was sornewhat sunk between his shoulders, and his 
 whole body turned at every movement as if it were 
 a part of the head; the strange being had a comical 
 appearance, and there was something in the features, 
 though it was difficult to define, which increased the 
 impression. - ^ 
 
 Meister Wenck was really both . kind and char- 
 itable,' nay, one could conscientiously praise his strict 
 'Observance of the Lutheran religion, while he ex- 
 pressed his unshaken trust In God in the saying: 
 "Who knows what good it may do!" almost more than 
 was needful. 
 
 Meister Wenck approached the four gentlemen who 
 were seated around one of the best tables in the drink-, 
 ing hall of the tailor's guild, bowed, and said, holding 
 out his glass: 
 
 "I greet the illustrious members of the council who 
 honor the worthy Schneider- zunft with a visit on this 
 great day; for the day is a great and important one 
 to our good city of Strassburg, when the magistrates 
 and citizens swear mutual fealty— on pain of banish- 
 ment — and take a solemn oath never to enter into any 
 alliance which might cause the ruin of the community 
 and the free city itself." 
 
■' '»!W(pp>ai§^pj^^ji^jijip|i|,^ 
 
 t68 "^ A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 As he uttered these words, the little tailor's bold, 
 twinkling eyes cast a strange, questioning glance at 
 the group of black-robed gentlemen. There was some- 
 thing almost inquisitorial in the expression of the 
 odd little man. Strange! The noble members of the 
 council must have noticed it also, for it almost seemed 
 sad if a momentary change of color was the conse- 
 quence. 
 
 No one noticed this, it was true, except perhaps 
 Meister Wenck, who raising his glass, exclaimed in 
 a loud, distinct tone: 
 
 "I hereby pledge the most noble and learned magis- 
 trates of our city itself, and especially, our most gra- 
 cious master and emperor, Leopold, the guardian and 
 defender of the sacred German Empire." 
 
 As he uttered the words, Wenck held out his- brim- 
 ming glass to the members of the council and enthu- 
 siastically shouted, 'Hurrah!" and "Hurrah, hurrah!," 
 echoed in thundering cheers through the spacious 
 drinking hall. 
 
 The magistrates had also drunk the toast, though 
 with some little constraint, but they quickly resumed 
 their seats while the city clerk, Syndicus Giinzer, 
 turned to the tailor, saying: 
 
 "You are an honest man, Meister Wenck, whose 
 heart and tongue are in the right place, and — and a 
 patriot to boot, even your enemies must admit that. 
 Your toast certainly had the right ripg. But," and 
 here the city clerk's long, slender figure bent almost 
 
 
 .. ■s-^-,rr'ff^.lrtitf^1-ti--mtiri1lih<1tSiMili 
 

 THE TAILOR 169 
 
 familiarly towards the tailor, "but! you lack one thing, 
 my worthy man, and that is — caution!" 
 
 "Caution?" repeated Wenck in astonishment, raising 
 his bush}^ eye-brows inquiringly, while a faint smile 
 flitted over the faces of the bystanders. "I don't un- 
 derstand how there can be any question of caution 
 when we salute our learned magistrates, our good city, 
 and our most gracious master, the German emperor, 
 with a hearty cheer." 
 
 "You don't understand, my worthy fellow," Gxinzer 
 continued with forced cordiality and great condescen- 
 sion, "because, being only a simple citizen, you know 
 nothing about what is called policy and diplomacy," 
 
 "No," replied the tailor, shaking his head with a 
 comical grimace, "I don't know anything about that, 
 to be sure, but — who knows what good it may do!" 
 
 "A little policy, diplomacy and caution are useful in 
 everything," continued the city clerk, almost reprov- 
 ingly,, "but caution is doubly required of the citizens 
 of Strassburg, since our little free state lies between 
 the two powerful kingdoms of France and Germany." 
 
 "But we belong to the kingdom of Germany," ob- 
 served Wenck. 
 
 Gxinzer made no definite reply to this; but bent his 
 head, as if in assent and then said: 
 
 "But walls have ears! And surely His August 
 Majest}', Louis XIV, the illustrious king of France, 
 will not be very much edified if he learns that the peo- 
 I^le of Strassburg raise such thundering cheers, for the 
 Emperor Leopold, his enemy." 
 
 '^''''''•'^'^'^"'-■^''''^^^^^^^ 
 
--^^i^^!;j*-5^^g|55?5o^^8^^^ 
 
 170 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 "O — ho!" cried the little tailor, advancing a little 
 nearer to the city clerk. "Haven't we Germans a 
 right to cheer for our emperor? What do we people 
 of Strassburg care for the king of France? Let him 
 hear that we nave true German hearts; — let him hear 
 it, in spite of his Chambers de Reunio}is by which 
 he got possession of Alsace and swallowed other peo- 
 ples property under the pretense of a just claim; — let 
 the king of France and his ministers hear that we are 
 loyal Germans 1 Who knoAvs what good it may do!" 
 
 The gentlemen of the council were actually embar- 
 rassed ; the city clerk alone retained his calm bearing. 
 Accustomed in every situation of life to control him- 
 self, feign, and dissemble, he smiled at the comic zeal 
 of Meister Blasius. ' 
 
 "My dear friend," said he, "you are perfectly 
 right — only you seem to have misunderstood me. 
 All honor to the German emperor and kingdom — but 
 we men of Strassburg must be cautious and prudent. 
 Vienna and Ratisbon are a long distance from here, 
 and — what can the emperor and kingdom do for us? 
 France, on the contrary, adjoins our little free state; 
 its interests are ours — the armies of France can over- 
 run us at any moment. " I 
 
 "Only when the barriers of justice are broken down 
 and we show ourselves cowards and poltroons!" ex- 
 claimed Meister Wenck, almost angrily. .. i 
 
 "I only said: can!" continued the city clerk quietly 
 with a most magisterial mien, "and I think it would 
 
 '4. 
 
 .. Z i.^._ . , iiD,^!!S^j^'d^^il^S&^ 
 
^^^l^Q^^^mf^^^^Ws^^r^iS^-i^^;'''^''^^^ 
 
 THE TAILOR . I7I 
 
 be both wise and diplomatic not to irritate her. Louis 
 XIV is also our protector and friend." 
 
 "Oh! indeed," said Meister Blasius, whose eyebrows 
 seemed to be trying to meet over his nose. "Then I 
 will pray every morning and evening: 'Lord, deliver 
 us from our friends, and we will take care of our en- 
 emies.'" ■ --"-"■'■:-:.]:'■■':' 
 
 A shout of laughter echoed through the room. 
 
 "Yes," continued Meister Wenck, "who knows what 
 good it may do!" 'v • 
 
 "You have an evil tongue! " said Dr. Obrecht angrily. 
 "King Louis means well by the people of Strassburg. " 
 
 "What is the learned Herr Doctor saying!" ex- 
 claimed Meister Blasius jeeringly. "Perhaps he means 
 ,as well by us as he did by Hagenau, Homburg, Weiss- 
 enburg and the ten free cities of Alsace, which have 
 been incorporated into the dominions of France." 
 
 "Meister Wenck is right!" cried man}' voices. 
 
 "Yes, he is right. We will remain free Germans. 
 We men of Strassburg are proud of our German origin 
 and independence. " ; ;• . - ; 
 
 "We have alwa3^s been free Germans and will so 
 remain." - ,. % •:^■■•^ 
 
 "Hurrah for Germany!" , 
 
 Hurrah for the House of Austria!" 
 
 "Hurrah for the free German city o! Strassburg!" 
 
 Such were the cries that resounded through the room, . 
 while glasses clinked and the joyous, enthusiastic 
 cheers seemed as if they would never end. 
 
^7 ^ "' 
 
 !^s!^?^^^'^^^^r^?^^^^m^iB!^i'w^fi'?i^m'f!!^f^w^^»!^^^s^y?^m^^'f!^i^s^!^:^^' 
 
 172 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 When the noise at last subsided the city clerk also 
 raised his glass, and casting a glance at his compan- 
 ' ions the whole party rose. 
 
 "Worthy Meisters of the honorable guild of tai- 
 ors!" he said aloud, forcing his voice to assume the 
 necessary tone of firmness and gentleness, and giving 
 his keen eyes as kindly an expression as they could 
 assume., "we, too, members of the council, will now 
 propose a toast- long live the honest burghers of our 
 dear, native city! May God protect and enlighten 
 them, that in these difficult times they may find and 
 walk in the right path to prosperity and happiness. 
 In the critical state of affairs at. the present day, the 
 only means of safety is to once more assert the neu- 
 trality of Strassburg, and the city magistrates eagerly 
 seized upon the well-meant proposal of the French 
 government to again proclaim it. Thus the freedom 
 and independence of our dear, native city is preserved, 
 and as Louis XIV, the great king of France — the 
 father of his people — lavishes his kindness also upon 
 us, na}^, has even promised peace and protection — " 
 
 "Cat's friendship," muttered Wenck. 
 
 "We will, in addition to the healtli of the burghers 
 of Strassburg— drink his also." 
 
 At that moment, as if by accident, the little tailor 
 let his tin goblet fall from his hand. It struck heavily 
 on the floor, and as the wine bespattered the by- 
 standers, there was a sudden crowding backward amid 
 loud exclamations. 
 
 'd^S^kiiHitL^iL^.lii.'^ia^'iii:-..^ -■■--..■ ■V.--iY.:-?-.r.f"-iia-i!>'M.-'g;^';«ni7"^^ 
 
^| ^ P ^ J^Egj^gp^P^;^^^'^^J'?g^??i^!^^ss^^ 
 
 g'^5?7???S>^ 
 
 THE TAILOR '73 
 
 "What a sliame!" said the little tailor, with well- 
 feigned vexation, "but — who knows what good it may 
 do!" 
 
 '* The city clerk's toast was forgotten. Not a single 
 cheer had been uttered. 
 
 A death-like pallor covered the faces of the four 
 members of the council, and they silentl}' resumed their 
 seats, while Gi'mzer whispered: 
 
 "For God's sake be cautious, gentlemen! So surely 
 as there is a heaven above us, that damned tailor has 
 caught a glimpse of our cards." 
 
 "The scoundrel!" growled Dr. Obrecht. 
 
 "The fool!" muttered Strosser. 
 
 "I'll manage to stop his tongue," said Herr Ecker. 
 
 The conversation now became general and the com- 
 pany eagerly discussed the political situation of the 
 times and especially that of the city to which they 
 belonged. The minds of all were still inflamed by 
 the public display they had witnessed that very day — 
 their self-importance was increased by the magnificent 
 ceremony, by the pomp and splendor of the power of 
 the Middle Ages, of which, however, only the appear- 
 ance remained. 
 
 V 
 
 V 
 
 « 
 
 i«*iiSt^ii'-"-'! ^^ .'i'-^'j. '■''■. 
 
w7 ^^PPS^P^^^'l^i^w?^ 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 "family joys." 
 
 On the same evening upon which Meister Wenck 
 had the little skirmish with the city clerk Giinzer at 
 the guild hall, Syndicus Frantz accompanied the newly 
 chosen and ruling Ammeister upon his round among 
 the twenty guilds. 
 
 It was truly a hard task, after the many solemnities 
 of the day; and the worthy gentlemen had already 
 been obliged to suffer much from the cold in their fine 
 official costume, but now thev shivered still more in 
 the large, room}' councilor's coach. 
 
 None in the whole kindgom clung with greater ob- 
 stinacy and stubbornness to such old traditions than 
 the free cities. 
 
 Syndicus Frantz, a sensible man, cared very little 
 for such things; but he alone could not change the 
 custom, and on the other hand he knew that one could 
 not take a single stone from an old and crumbling 
 building without risking the destruction of the whole. 
 
 Moreover, the stormy days of the reign of Louis XIV 
 were surely not fitted for a perfect transformation suita- 
 ble to the times. 
 
 So the Syndicus patiently made the rounds by the 
 
 174 
 
 -ma-aisafe.jj|jagyg.>^^fea^^ 
 
' "family joys** 175 
 
 side of the new Ammeister; but congratulated himself 
 when the affair was over and the great coach set him 
 down at his own house. 
 
 Syndicus Franz hastily descended from the coach, 
 whose door the servant respectfully opened. He 
 slipped in with a friendly nod, and was received on 
 the stairs with warm and affectionate greetings from 
 his wife and daughter. Both embraced and led him 
 into the room. 
 
 Alma, the Syndicus' charming daughter and only 
 child, ran for her father's dressing-gown, while her 
 mother took off the black, helmet-like velvet cap, and 
 assisted him to remove his state robe. 
 
 Syndicus Frantz, notwithstanding liis sixtj^-five 
 years, was a fine looking man, both in his home dress 
 and state costume. Noble, open features revealed a 
 similar character. The smoothly combed brown hair, 
 ^ now mixed with gray, betrayed an equally smooth dis- 
 position; the glance of the still beautiful eyes spark- 
 ling with intellect and thought, expressed kindliness 
 and honor; while the firral}' closed mouth showed . 
 firmness of character and energy of soul. 
 
 The wife and daughter had much to tell about what 
 the}'', in company with the young and lovely Frau von 
 Bernhold, an intimate friend of Alma, had seen on 
 the cathedral square from the windows of the ancient 
 nunnery; much to ask, and man}' things for the Syn- 
 dicus, who had stood close beside the chief magis- 
 trate, to answer. 
 
 iHfiiliiA-'gfli^Si11ii^'^iiiv'«i''%'T'--^'^^^^ ...Jsi^m^i^ 
 
~:/ - .' " ' ■ '■ -' \. . ■'■' -!■■ ; 
 
 / \ ~ ' . ■ i . 
 
 / ' . . \ 
 
 176 A ROYAL ROBBER : 
 
 The old gentlem-an did so as readily and willingly 
 as ever; but his wife soon perceived that some anxiety 
 depressed and saddened her husband's usually cheer- 
 ful temper. 
 
 They were not long in doubt as to the cause; Hed- 
 wig and Alma learned to their horror, that a secret and 
 extraordinary^ session of the council had taken place 
 before the festivities, in which it had been decided 
 that Syndicus Frantz should immediately go secretly to 
 Vienna to consult with the imperial court about the 
 ways and means to be mutually adopted that Strass- 
 burg — exposed to the assaults of France — might retain 
 its independence, and be held as one of the most im- 
 portant strongholds of the German Empire. This 
 news affected Hedwig and Alma most painfully in more 
 than one respect. 
 
 "And are matters really so bad with us?" asked the 
 wife with an expression of the deepest concern. 
 
 "Alas! yes, my loved ones," he said in a low tone, 
 'the political horizon has grown very dark." 
 
 "But why and how?" asked his wife. "You have 
 never told me that affairs were considered serious." 
 
 "There are things in political life which, unfortu- 
 nately, must be dealt with in secret." 
 
 "What?" said Frau Hedwig in a mournful tone. "We 
 have been married more than five and twenty years 
 and never had a secret, and now?" 
 
 "Hedwig!" cried the Syndicus, clasping his wife's 
 hands warmly in his own. "Hedwig, dear, good, faith- 
 ful wife, do not misjudge me. 
 
 sSSPTFTpS^P' 
 
 -y^jK.^'--?^i'ris£tg..i-ij;:ia.^^fasaaiMaa^ 
 
| BP»* ' P^i» :^?F?»?^3^ 8Sp g j^!* i *«TOa j !Bg^^ 
 
 X \^ 
 
 "family joys" 177 
 
 "In these sad times," repeated the Sx'ndicus mourn- 
 fully, passing his hand gently over his child's fair 
 hair, and pressing a kiss upon her brow with fatherly 
 anxiety, "yes, yes, my loved ones, it may be that the 
 coming da37s will be indeed grave and sad. There can 
 no longer be a doubt, Louis XIV, the ambitious and 
 grasping prince, has cast his eyes upon Strassburg. " 
 
 "How can he?" exclaimed Alma, alarmed and in- 
 dignant. "Strassburg is German, and besides that, 
 is a free, imperial cit}' which — as the present day has 
 brilliantly proved —has its own free government." 
 
 "But the king of France has not even the semblance 
 of a claim to Strassburg," cried Alma, beaming with 
 patriotic enthusiasm. 
 
 "They will seek for it." 
 
 "But will not find it!" 
 
 "And is there not treachery, force, and bribery?" 
 
 "We will defend ourselves! Has not the ceremony 
 of to-day reminded us of our former grandeur and 
 power. ' 
 
 "So our little republic," continued the S3'ndicus, 
 
 "resembles a ship robbed of its masts and rudder, 
 
 given up to all that wind and sea can do. For this 
 
 reason, my dear ones, the magistrates, in the secret 
 
 session of to-day, resolved that I should immediately 
 
 —to-morrow — quietly proceed to Vienna, represent 
 
 the condition of the city and its affairs to His Maj- 
 
 est}^. Emperor Leopold, and enteat him to send to 
 
 our aid a sufficient army of allies." 
 /2 Robber 
 
 
f 
 
 ^^^J-'S^-'-Vg^yi^lS^'l • '^*i!i^^ 
 
 178 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 "Oh! he will grant it!" cried Alma, "for Strassburg 
 is one of the most beautiful cities of the German Em- 
 pire." 
 
 "And one of its most important strongholds," added 
 
 her mother. 
 
 "The key to South Germany," said the Syndicus 
 seriously. 
 
 At this moment the door-bell rang. 
 All listened in surprise. 
 
 "Who can be coming here so late?" asked Frau 
 Hedwig, whom, the excitement had made unusually 
 anxious, 
 
 "Calm yourselves, children!" answered the Syndicus, 
 "it is probably the messenger to bring me the neces-, 
 sar}' papers and letters of credit, for the court of Vi- 
 enna. They had to be signed by the new Ammeister, 
 who had only just returned home from his round." 
 
 The old gentleman was not mistaken; it was really 
 these papers, but he was the more astonished at their 
 bearer. Instead of the usual messenger, the tall, 
 slender figure of Herr Giinzer entered. 
 
 After leaving the tailor's guild-hall--not in the best 
 of humors — Giinzer had gone to the chief magistrates, 
 according to agreement, to have the papers which he 
 had prepared signed and then, to the delight of the 
 messenger, had relieved him from his dut}', saying he 
 would undertake it himself. 
 
 But the impressionhislatevisitmadeupon the Frantz* 
 family seemed to oe neither agreeable nor favorable. 
 
 i^£^di^>^^>:i.iS^^'ii/Sktssu^M,^ias&:iiat,&- 
 

 M** 
 
 FAMILY JOYS 179 
 
 "What! " exclaimed the Syndicus, with a slight 
 frown upon his brow, as he slowly rose, "do you bring 
 me the despatches yourself, sir?" 
 
 "Yes!" replied Giinzer, bowing to the old gentleman 
 and the ladies, and there was something servile in his 
 manner and expression which affected them disagree- 
 ably. "Yes," he repeated, "in my position, I did not 
 wish to entrust these important documents to any other 
 hands — you know what kind of men there are in these 
 evil times, one cannot trust everyone." 
 
 "But the old messenger, Andreas, is the most trust}' 
 and honest soul in the world." 
 
 "Then ascribe it to m}' patriotism, that I undertook 
 the walk myself!" exclaimed Giinzer, as he handed the 
 old gentleman the papers. 
 
 The frown upon the Syndicus' brow darkened. But 
 he recollected himself and quietly thanked him in the 
 name of the cit3^ 
 
 Herr Giinzer looked smllin-gh' at the ladies and 
 said: "What need is there of thanks? E\f.ry one is 
 more or less of an egotist, and I will confess that I 
 was one here. The reward for my little trouble con- 
 sists in being able to greet such estimable ladies again 
 at the close of this beautiful and oatriotic festival; may 
 their pictures embellish my dreams." 
 
 "The best pillow," answered Hedwig, "is always a 
 good conscience, and that every true and upright friend 
 of our Fatherland has!" 
 
 As Syndicus Frantz and his family made no farther 
 
 
^^^"^^^^^^'^ ;• •X'^*-:~'r--^'^': ^l:i^^^~'r^'^^i^ 
 
 p tp y t^^P j w'm w b 
 
 y 
 
 180 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 effort to detain Gunzer — though they plainly perceived 
 that he wished it — nothing was left for him but to 
 take leave, especially as the night was already far 
 advanced. 
 
 '""■■'i''''^''---' r.-■_^~v:>;^.;,J»^■;.;■*J;..■l,■^.^^^>--■«;^.A■.:^J>:..-i,^ld■^^■.:J^ka^»jflV,^ 
 

 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 HANS IM SCHNAKENLOCH.* 
 
 In those days Strassburg was still provided with six- 
 teen regular ramparts pr bastions, the most important 
 of which were the 111, the St. Elizabeth, the Metzger, 
 the Katherine, the Steinstrasser,. the Heiden rampart, 
 the bastion on the 3'ellow corner and the watch tower. 
 
 Strassburg, which at that time contained thirty-two 
 hundred houses, forty-five hundred families, and twen- 
 ty-eight thousand inhabitants, therefore possessed de- 
 fenses that inspired respect, especially as she did not 
 lack guns and good ones. 
 
 Strassburg burghers were not a little proud of their 
 guns, arsenals, and fortresses, and this pride gave most 
 of them such a feeling of security, that — without being 
 in the least disturbed — they looked quietly on the 
 seizures of land made by Louis XIV In Alsace. 
 
 Skilled In commerce and business, firm In their 
 Lutheran belief, a true German spirit Imbued most of 
 the community. Indeed one might say the Strassburg 
 burghers of that time were true German patriots! 
 
 And yet a snake was creeping In the grass, whose 
 
 coils descended from the higher strata of society — nay 
 
 181 
 * Hans in tbe snake's b«le. 
 
 >£7^3i&!*t-^'^SSf#ir^iip.kS^- . 
 
f *"''4T*^fl5§^^*5=^^Tt**^^^^"'^'^ *^*T^«^S •-15^IS!!5^^':^ig559»*t%Sr*^T5B»S 
 
 
 "^■rt:.>>'*:::vy>- 
 
 182 A ROYAL ROBBER I " ., 
 
 even from the highest — that of the government itself, 
 
 This snake was the little party of French partisans. 
 The crafty Louvois had not failed to provide for the 
 timely sowing of a poisonous seed, through whose 
 gradual growth he hoped to sniotlier the germ of good- 
 ness, justice, and freedom in tlic German city. And 
 did not the bishop of Strassburg, Prince Egon von 
 Fiirstenburg, give him faithful aid? To be sure the 
 latter lived in Cologne; but his agents were numer- 
 ous, and toiled secretly in Strasslnug; and he too — 
 often went there in disguise. 
 
 But Louvois' right hand was the French minister, 
 Herr von Frischmann, whom Austria's ambassador, 
 Baron von Mere}-, steadily opposed. In the mean- 
 time, Prince Egon proselyted through his emissaries, 
 and so the different factions toiled and worked for 
 a long time in secret, before the simple, ho;est bur- 
 ghers imagined that the ground under their feet was 
 becoming hollow and insecure. 
 
 And yet there were some individuals whose keener 
 eyes obtained some idea of this unlawful action. To 
 possess such eyes it was not neecessary to be of noble 
 birth; more or less penetration is often given to the 
 simplest and most humble men. 
 
 Such a man was honest Meister Wenck. 
 
 Franz Blasius Wenck had just opened the door of 
 his house, which stood near the Hospital gate. It 
 was a modest little building, painted red, and roofed 
 with burnt tiles. 
 
 &^>»tsi£n4^£^S 
 
i HANS IM SCHNAKENLOCH 183 '^ 
 
 Evening had closed in, and Meister Wenck bad laid . . 
 down his work to take a walk in the fresh cold air : 
 
 Wenck was a widower ,had no children, and always ^ 
 
 obtained so much work that, with his very modest /^v! 
 
 desires, he could live without anxiet}-. I 
 
 But the little tailor had other cares. He had much .'■::; 
 
 time for thought and reflection as he sat at his work, •; ; 
 
 and moreover a heart full of patriotism, so he followed . \„:;i 
 the political movements of his time with a watchful n- 
 
 eye. Politics were his delight. But this love of poll- .- 
 
 tics had its painful side. It led to too much reflect- 
 ing on the present. Who moved the world now? who - vs; 
 but Louis XIV, the king of the hated Frenchmen, and 
 his still worse minister. Louvois? And what political •' 
 
 events were shaking the repose of Europe? No other ■ 
 
 than the alarming seizures made by France in Alsace . 
 
 Holland, England, Spain, and abov6 all, Germany 
 and the German emperor, cried out to the world against 
 this injustice, all these countries and their rulers 
 solemnly protested against this violation of the treaties 
 of Westphalia and N3'mwegen! but — and this almost 
 broke Meister Wenck's heart — it went no further than 
 protesting; while Louvois took one part of Alsace after 
 another and incorporated them into France. 
 
 Thus Meister Wenck had seen all the beautiful 
 cities of Alsace fall into the hands of the hated French- 
 men — and now it seemed to him as if Louis was also 
 stretching out his hands towards his beloved Strass- 
 burg. It cut Meister Wenck to the soul, the mere 
 
 i>^^^^Sffiassii^»ki;f^feiaai>j.::.^aate.^^ 
 
 
pjKjT' . , :-• T-«^ v---»-rsr'^«" :•■ .'..:..-.<■•■.' -■»■-.>■.-■-.. -, -.^^-r^ i5?i?f«(W''W^l.i'Wwy(li!!i?!H^ 
 
 184 A ROYAL ROKBF.R 
 
 thought of it made him wild. But he felt himself 
 enough of a man to stake property and life, for her, 
 and would not all the citizens of Strassburg think the 
 same? His guild did, Wenck knew. And other mem- 
 bers of the community, especial]}' the guilds, were thor- 
 oughly patriotic. 
 
 But there was one thing which good Meister 
 Wenck had long been unable to drive out of his mind, 
 and that was the thought that things were not exactly 
 right with the magistrates. S^'ndicus Frantz and his 
 party were true patriots and honorable men: but the 
 little tailor had nian\' strange ideas about Herr Giinzer 
 and his friends. 
 
 Why, in such dangerous times, should a wise mag- 
 istrate, from motives of petty economy, send home 
 the imperial garrison placed in Strassburg for her se- 
 curity? 
 
 But Giinzer and his friends prevailed, and the city 
 was bereft of the troops. Meister Wenck shook his 
 head, but did not say as usual, "Who knows what 
 good it may do?" He only went about, humming the 
 old Strassburg national song. 
 
 But when, soon after, the economical gentlemen also 
 discharged two-thirds of the twelve hundred Swiss 
 soldiers in the pay of the city — Meister Wenck ceased 
 singing and humming, and became graver than ever. 
 
 He became more watchful of the course of things 
 about him, and of certain persons. Herr Giinzer v.-as 
 the first of these. Meister Wenck secretly Avatched 
 
 fc4£fa&&-..=jjjl^.;*<;. -^ ^>^fc^**^^i««c^j^iftfS|frtWit?- . ■■■■-■,:■■ v.. .■.-■-^.;->L^'----...-..-w-L,,- .--•^.J'^'ir^m^k^- . .a: .-ii^ ■.■..,^..-,,^^>»^^-,-^-T-,-.,^i,i^--^^ 
 
p^"?g8?l!S!SB^'wgfp^^wa^f|^«B«s»»yK^rws»i«3i»^'«;5»^^ ^'S 
 
 HANS IM SCHNAKENLOCH 1 85 
 
 him, and noticed that the clerk visited the French 
 minister more than usual. To be sure, Giinzer prob- 
 ably had a great deal of government business to trans- 
 act with Herrvon Frischmann, but it seemed to the 
 little tailor that there could not be any necessity for 
 such frequent visits, which were rendered more sus- 
 picious from the fact that they. were paid at night. 
 
 Wenck's suspicions increased, aijd were still farther 
 heightened by the incident at the tailor's guild. Why 
 had Giinzer, who always showed himself in public and 
 business life almost ostentatiousl}' patriotic referred 
 so craftily to the favors of the French and even cheered 
 Louis XIV. 
 
 Meister Wenck was puzzled. He still kept silent to 
 every one. He had been reflecting upon the matter to- 
 day at his work till his head burned and throbbed. 
 He determined to refesh himself by an evening walk, 
 and went towards the so-called "Schnakenloch. " 
 
 The "Schnakenloch" was a low piece of ground by 
 the water, covered with houses, which the snakes, the 
 pest of that region, chose for a summer resort in such 
 multitudes that they drove away every sensitive per- 
 son. There, in the little tavern which bore the 
 peculiar name just mentioned, once lived a host 
 called Hans, an original fellow, who always pretended 
 to be foolish, and was at the same time so sharp, that 
 notwithstanding the snakes, he drew guests in crowds 
 by his assumed simpHcit3', so that he became quite a 
 rich man. 
 
 afeLiAaJ-.^--'-.-. -■■ - - -•i-jaifih''ffiiraift°*'-^'**!-'^-''"-"'''''''''^'*«-'^^ 
 
t 
 1 86 A ROYAL ROBBER ^ I "- ^^ ^^^^ ' i^^^ 
 
 The satirical songs made upon Hans im Schnaken- *>■" 
 loch are in the mouths of the common people and .^'i 
 children to this da}'. At that time It was even more :^3 
 the case, although Hans was dead and the inn had 'i 
 
 sunk into a miserable tavern. Meister Wenck would ; ^S 
 have hardly visited it, If the present host had not been , ' ^, 
 a distant relative of his and also a poor man and a 
 widower, who with his seven children, needed assist- : -^ 
 ance. 
 
 So Franz Blaslus went there occasionally and drank 
 and paid for his mug of wine, but almost always left ■ . ; 
 a gold piece lying under his tin cup. To-day, too, this 
 was to be the case, and the little tailor went merrily "„ 
 
 on his way. -^ v.' 
 
 Meister Wenck drew his fur-lined cloak closer round - ■■ 
 him, pressed the helmet-like cap more firmly upoi: liis _ :■ 
 head, and inhaled tlie cold evening air in d .ep 
 draughts. The\' were good for him, and refreshed ;:?.' 
 both body and soul. Wenck, notwithstanding his 4 
 
 small figure and advanced years, was a vigorous and 
 healthy man. If, in former times, in the fatigues, z 
 
 privations and hardships that often fell to his lot in 
 war, he had frequentl}' exclaimed for his own consola- .?. 
 tlon, "Who knows what good it may do!" the saying 
 had really been verified. 
 
 His heart, too, was sound: the little tailor knew 
 no fear, or he would not have so quietly passed the 
 gallows, which In those days was erected in every neigh- , " ?; 
 borhood. Ravens, startled at his approach, fluttered - ; 
 
 L-'-f-iJ-^WrtXicUir-^ 
 
 J^:.^S:.-^^it^ Tj— TJ g WMW rt t r ^'lMfeJj-WVO 
 

 *r;*^L-¥«^ ^~ 
 
 HANS IM SCHNAKENLOCH 187 
 
 with hoarse cries around the fatal pillars, upon the 
 cross-bar of which hung th^ body of a criminal swa}^- 
 ing in the wind. ^ 
 
 The inn of the "Schnakenloch" was only about a rifle 
 shot distant. It was the first of the few poor, misera- 
 ble housesin this unhealthy locality; scarcely anyone 
 visited it at such an hour, and yet it seemed to him 
 as if some one were following him along the road. 
 He now heard very plainly steps and voices, but he 
 could see nothing, for thick clouds covered the moon. 
 Security at night and in the woods was not known at 
 that time. Meister Wenck knew no fear, but he was 
 by no means foolhardy. "Before me is better than 
 behind me" thought he, and moved aside. 
 
 The steps came nearer. In the stillness of night 
 words could be easily distinguished. 
 
 "What time is it?" asked a man's voice. 
 
 "Probably about eight o'clock," answered another. 
 
 "Then we shall arrive at the right hour." 
 
 Wenck's astonishment increased. He recognized 
 the voices: he had heard them only a short time before. 
 "Arrive at the right hour?" he said softly to himself, 
 "where and for what? and who may the speakers be? 
 "I will, if possible, let them pass me, and then follow," 
 murmured the tailor. "Who knows what good it maj' 
 do!" 
 
 At the same moment he noiselessly laid down on 
 the frozen ground close to the road. The dark mass 
 was scarcely to be distinguished from the earth. 
 
 ^E&»i^iifcJfea<atai<st««r;^i»j»i-^-a-.^«i^ 
 
-^"'•^-?»5SJ5HM5% - ' ^ "^ ''■'!'™'=''''¥'''-«'''5^'^'i'F'W''W'~?'^'^ 
 
 I 88 A ROYAL ROBBKR - 
 
 The men came nearer. Wenck heard every word 
 they said. 
 
 "And will our friends surely come?"* 
 
 "Undoubtedly.- 
 
 "It is a long journey." 
 
 "But the prospect is remunerative." 
 
 "Who can know that?" 
 
 "Do you already doubt the result?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 'Well then, don't let your courage fail." 
 
 "Still, I am often anxious." 
 
 "Are you a man?" 
 
 "Even a strong man may have scruples and hesi- 
 tate." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "What will our contemporaries and ensuing ages 
 say?" 
 
 "Oh! faint heart! Shall we arrive at our end and 
 aim by — " 
 
 Here the speaker's words were lost. A flight of 
 ravens which, croaking and screaming, drew near the 
 gallows, prevented Wenck from hearing more. 
 
 "That was Giinzer!" he cried softly, starting up. 
 
 "So truly as God lives, that was that rogue of a 
 clerk. I must know what is going on. Who knows 
 what good it ma}' do and this much is certain: im- 
 portant business is on foot. If the judgment of pres- 
 ent and future ages is concerned, the point in question 
 must be some great deed or great rascality." / 
 
 ■^t^ia,->ir,i±.^AaSili!iii)llik-^i~^.^...^~.,..:4^^,^.^,J^tta:-^^^ 
 
 . 1 
 
 i&MiS.te.ia^g^ifiVtiMirifi|||i^ 
 
5Sp(^K1^9^'*T''^'*'^?'S=*'!S^^5'^**'*WWE^^ ^•-^-'^".■^j-i-^ «S^|«W!> 
 
 HANS IM SCHNAKENLOCH 189 
 
 Meister Wenck softly hurried after the nocturnal 
 wanderers. 
 
 Soon he Recognized them again in the darkness. 
 
 The tailor crept up to the house. The window 
 shutters were tightly closed. Only the noise and cries 
 of the children were heard in the inn. 
 
 Meister Wenck looked up. Above was another 
 room, which in former and better times, had served 
 as a parlor for city guests. But here, too, thick shut- 
 ters closed every opening. 
 
 Suddenly the listener distinguished the tramp of 
 several horses in the distance, and directly after steps 
 approached. 
 
 Two men, wrapped in large, dark mantles, drew 
 near the house. Both, from their manner, seemed to 
 belong to the higher class, and one of them, espec- 
 ially, had a tall, stately figure. 
 
 They silently entered the doorway. 
 
 So they had come on horseback within a short dis- 
 tance, and then dismounted. A servant was probably 
 holding their horses. Wenck was more perplexed than 
 ever, but how the devil should he learn more of this 
 secret meeting, about which he suspected no good? 
 
 He was still standing lost in thought, when a girl 
 about fourteen years old stepped out of the door of 
 the hut. It was Franzchen, the host's eldest child, to 
 whom Meister Franz Blaslus had stood godfather. 
 
 The young girl started back as she saw a man stand* 
 ing in the shade. 
 
 ki^aHsSi^i^^Sii^^ 
 
 iKiit;Siiiaii.cfik*sSii*Jti-L-''iijjit:;.^'jf^::S::~.*-^?£iCV-^ -■■,■■,!>.' .'..'... ''y.:^i-- •--■,• .-<,■.■ -■.., -■■/-^SKfea^'^- ■- '.'., , ..■'. ., i- .- ,■ ^r-^-^^tr^lj'y^j^ 
 

 IgO A ROYAL ROBBER -■? 
 
 "Who is there?" she cried. 
 
 "Hush, Franzchen," replied Wenck, "it is I, your 
 godfather." 
 
 "Oh! oh!" cried the child in delight. "My god- 
 father — and so late?" 
 
 "Why," said the tailor, "it does not seem to be so 
 late with you, you have guests?" 
 
 "We?" asked the child, gazing at him in astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 "Who else!" 
 
 "You are mistaken, godfather! no one is here but 
 my brothers and sisters." 
 
 "And your father?" 
 
 "He has gone to the city." 
 
 "And you have no guests?" 
 
 "Oh! dear, they come seldom enough. Once in 
 
 while a workman!" 
 
 "Come, Friinzchen, " said the tailor reproachfully, 
 "tell your godfather the truth ... I saw — " 
 
 He stopped and corrected himself: "I thought I 
 lieard some one talking in the dining room." 
 
 "It was us." 
 
 "You?" 
 
 "Yes, I and my brothers and sisters." 
 
 "Well then, perhaps it was in the upper-room." 
 
 "That is locked, and father has the key with him." 
 
 Wenck shook his head. Could the child be telling 
 an untruth? 
 
 Meister Wenck was reflecting upon this, when the 
 young girl innocently exclaimed: 
 
 '. <o.' r?" -" -J '•'"r'[T'r"ii fm'fifrifi^'ii'''iiiimV'iilii<riTr^iiri«K?ii^^ 
 
HANS IM SCHNAKENLOCH I9I 
 
 "But, godfather, how strange you are to-day, staying 
 out here in the cold and darkness. Come in. I will 
 put the little ones to bed, and then get your mug of 
 wine!" 
 
 And with these words Franzchen drew the ahvays 
 welcome guest to the door. Wenck followed without 
 resistance, and found no one but the children in the 
 room. 
 
 Loud cries of joy welcomed the tailor. The children 
 eagerly ran up to him and clung around his knees. 
 Franzchen pushed them away as well a she could, took ■ 
 
 the little ones to bed, and on her return placed a cup 
 of wine before her godfather, who in the meantime, 
 had sat down at the dirty old table. \ .. 
 
 Two boys were riding on his knees, but the tailor 
 seemed to be thinking of other things. He pricked 
 up his ears to hear if there were any noises above him 
 Everything remained quiet. 
 
 Suddenly a bright thought seemed to occur to him; 
 he put his hand into his pocket and laid on the table 
 as many copper pieces as there were children in the 
 room with the exception of Franzchen. The little ones 
 looked on with e5'^es and mouths wide open. 
 
 "Do you see this money?" said the tailor. 
 
 "Yes," all exclaimed. 
 I "Well," continued Wenck, "whoever goes directly 
 
 I to bed shall have one of these pieces." 
 I I . "Hurrah!" in one moment money and children were 
 f| gone. 
 
 iii^m2.i«£<^ 
 
pB55ir»"*t^r.T.-"--.'^»- ■-«l'pMfjJil^'--»?'^!«'<7^-rH5a?^.7^'if-'»iSr"g«^^ 
 
 192 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 Wenck and Franzchen laughed heartily. 
 The girl's godfather now drew her towards him, and 
 patting her cheek, said: 
 
 "I am making a new bodice for my little goddaugh- 
 
 tit 
 er. 
 
 'For me!" cried the child, her eyes sparkling with 
 pleasure. 
 
 "For you! and it is a Sunday bodice, ornamented 
 with ver}' pretty, bright braid." 
 
 "Oh! godfather, you are so good — " 
 
 "Hush, my child!" said Wenck, kissing her on the 
 forehead. 
 
 "How shall I thank you for it?" 
 You can. 
 
 "But how?" 
 
 "If you will do me a favor. " 
 
 "Anything, anything, godfather." 
 
 "Give me your father's doublet, cap, and apron." 
 
 The child looked at him in astonishment. Wenck 
 smiled. 
 
 "It is for a joke," said he. "I want to represent old 
 Hans of Schnakenloch. You know the song." 
 
 Franzchen laughed. The little tailor, with his droll 
 .face, certainly looked comical enough. 
 
 "So, godfather," said she smiling. "I am really to 
 bring you father's doublet, cap, and apron?" 
 
 "Yes, child," answered Wenck, pulling off his fur- 
 lined coat. . 
 
 The child brought him what he wished, and the 
 
 Sxia -iitf : a('6 Ta^^!C^ 
 
" A.; . - MAKs 1M bCHNAKEN..OCH _ 193 
 
 little tailor dressed himself in the clothes. The little 
 figure looked infinitely comical. Neither he nor 
 ' Franzchen could help laughing. 
 
 "And now," said the tailor, placing some money up- 
 on the table, "now Viring me a large can of your best 
 wine. " 
 
 The little girl again obeyed. 
 
 When she had brought the wine, Wenck put the 
 cap upon his head and took the can. 
 
 "I shall be back in a few moments," said he, and 
 left the house, to the increased astonishment of Franz- 
 chen'. 
 
 The child glided to the door after him , , . but 
 her godfather soon disappeared in the darkness. 
 
 When Meister Wenck found iiimself ajone, he stop- 
 ped and listened, 
 
 All right! at a shori distance horses were being led 
 up and dowii- 
 
 Wenck followed the sound of the steps. 
 
 After about ten minutes, lie found a groom sitting 
 in the saddle and leading two other horses up and 
 dowm. The poor fellow was shaking with the cold 
 and gave vent to his ill-humor by a soliloquy, which 
 consisted principally of oaths and imprecations on his 
 master, 
 
 "The devil takesuch service," he growled, "I'll be 
 damned if the horses and I don't freeze to-night." 
 
 He stopped and breathed on the hand which held the 
 
 horses' bridles. Wenck listened: that was no resi- 
 /_j Robbtr 
 
 ajfeSkE^iiiS^^^feifc aSagiSiasaiBi-'- £iii^a«i»&Lf ;;iaBaE:..3aigfi^^ 
 
■,-s^ «*,i5)ii^>'r_*-W,r!~'"^i:^-^!5j.r9(i^ 
 
 194 A ROYAL ROBBER '; ' 
 
 dent of Strassburg. To be sure he spoke German, but 
 with the dialect of the Lower Rhine. 
 
 "What has the holy man to do in this rascally neigh- 
 borhood at night?" growled the groom. "For I will be 
 hanged if the place where those faint lights are shin- 
 ing isn't Strassburg." 
 
 "Holy man?" repeated Wenck. 
 
 "Thunder and the devil! I wish we had stayed in 
 Cologne," grumbled the groom again, as he turned 
 the horses. "The pious lord bishop treats us like dogs, 
 to be sure, but one is at home, and here we creep about 
 this heretic city like thieves and lodge in the rat's 
 nest at Illkirch!" 
 
 "Hm! the bishop of Strassburg," thought the tailor. 
 "Oh! ho! what is the prince of Fiirstenburg doing 
 here at night, in the fog, and with the city clerk too?" 
 
 "I know what I'll do," continued the groom, blowing 
 on his hands again, "if there is another war I'll run away. 
 It is quite a different life with the soldiers, drudgery 
 enough there, but one has a good share of it here too. " 
 The groom stopped, he had noticed the dark figure 
 approaching him. 
 
 "Who goes there?" he cried, in the tone of a sen- 
 tinel. 
 
 "A good friend!" answered Wenck. 
 
 "What do you want?" 
 
 "To drive away the cold for you with a mug of 
 wine." 
 
 "Who are you?" 
 
 ';i-^,-'i-ii---i-i -1- ■ ''-i -"' ■'iniflaiii&lin- ■ i-'ilrwy-^rl-r' f .i-.-, ■- r..~iir-=a'a'ia>T;i^'1tlilt.Sgr1#itf?i^^''»'°-'-''^^^ 
 
^^SiW^^^TO^swi^sSMSSS^iS^s^isi^'ss^s^SS^^ag-s.'^^^--- - - '>'\^.' 
 
 HANS IM SCHNAKENLOCH 195 
 
 "The host of the Schnakenloch!" 
 
 "Of what kind of a loch?" 
 
 "Of Schnakenloch, that's the name of my inn there. " 
 
 "Is it a good tavern?" 
 
 "If the prince bishop of Strassburg goes th^-ie, it 
 can't be very poor." 
 
 "I don't care!" exclaimed the groom, "if 3'ou liave 
 really got some wine, hand it to me. It's damnably 
 cold. I'm shivering all over." 
 
 Meister Wenck gave him the inug. One could see 
 that the groom was at home on tlie Rhine, and had 
 studied drinking with German soldiers; he emptied 
 the enormous mug at three swallows. 
 
 "And who sent me the wine?" he asked,- returning 
 the empty mug. 
 
 "Your master!" answered Wenck, "the lord bishop, 
 Prince Franz Egon von Fiirstenbevg. " 
 
 "Man!" cried the groom, "the devil put that lie in 
 your mouth," 
 
 "And isn't he your master?" 
 
 "To be sure he is . . . but he would never send wine 
 to his servants, even if they were dying of thirst and 
 cold; he's eaten up with avarice, and besides — " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "He'd rather drink the wine himself." 
 
 "There was another gentleman with him," said 
 Wenck inquiringly. 
 
 "That's so." 
 
 "He ordered me to bring you the wine." 
 
 'yriKniiSfiiM'''^''^^^'^''^^-'-''-'-^-'"^^^ „-.trfV-!ri-.-Vi.^^v:; . • -jtwi --gas..:.' -. >t-..^; " --, ■-,.:.- .^.'^j^jas 
 
-x^~*iTy-^?'««a*^^¥^»"ffl!^^y'»pr^5«BS*?^^ *£• 
 
 196 A ROYAL R0BB5R 
 
 "He?" \ 
 
 "Who is he?" 
 
 "How should I know?" 
 
 "Didn't he come with you from Cologne?" 
 
 "bio we met him, well muffled in his cloak, waiting 
 for us un horseback near the great stone cross. " 
 "Where is that?" 
 • "About half an hour's ride from here." 
 
 "And you don't know }iim?" 
 
 "Thunder! " swore the groom. "Mr. Host of — what 
 kind of a loch?" 
 
 "Schnakenloch ! " 
 
 "Well; Mr. Host of Schnakenloch, you are deuced 
 curious. " 
 
 "Well, welli" said Wenck, "who knows what good it 
 may do! Everyone has his weak points. While the 
 gentlemen are sitting up there at rny house, we can 
 gossip a little down here. Were you ever a soldier?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "So was I. I fought with the Imperialists," 
 
 "Really!" 
 
 "And have you no desire to worship the god of war 
 again? 
 
 "Yes. 
 
 "With the Imperialists? 
 
 "No!" 
 ~ Wenck perceived by the short, gruff answer, that 
 the man was tired of his many questions. He vainly 
 tried to induce him to speak of the bishop's compan- 
 
 iliilil ^ ^iiiTnafr^'fTiiihiMfif^ fi l f^ 
 
iS6S^^4Pr^*^''^''''?^s^^^'^^Mr * .^^'T^^^wp^ge^^ 
 
 ;; ■ _ HANS iM schna:s^enloch . .^ 197 
 
 Ion, the groom stuck to his sullen "yes" and "no, * and 
 would not give him any information. 
 
 He even refused another mug of wine, and at last 
 relapsed into total silence. 
 
 "Well," said Wenck with feigned friendliness, "no 
 offense!" and retired. 
 
 Though he had got very little out of the man, that 
 little was of great importance to him. This much was 
 certain: Herr Gihizer, v/ith the bishop of Strassburg 
 and some other disguised gentlemen, were holding a 
 ver\- suspicious meeting here, and in such times that 
 was quite enough for a patriot lil^e Meister Wenck. 
 
 But what was he to do with this Ciiscovery? 
 
 He thought of various things-- and at last deter- 
 mined to go very early the next rnoniing to worthy 
 Syndicus Frantz, and inform him of the history of 
 this evening. 
 
 Franzchen was waiting for him with tlie greatest 
 impatience. The clothes were soon changed. Meister 
 Wenck paid for the wine, pushed the customary 
 present under the mug, told his little godchild 
 to come next day for the new bodice, and departed 
 with a paiernal kiss. 
 
 All the wa}- home he was absorbed in reflections 
 about what had just ocurred. It was strange that 
 fate had led him to the Schnakenloch on this very 
 
 evenmg. 
 
 "It is strange!" said he as he went to bed, "but who 
 knows what good it may do-" 
 
■^»":<7*f^i^"' ; • r*'^: -•■■,-:i3if^'^- f. \t:^» 
 
 ^f ■v^p^'wt^?^^^™ 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 ALMA. 
 
 How grand and majestic, yet how light and grace- 
 ful, is the beautiful cathedral of Strassburg, the great 
 work of the gifted Erwin von Steinbach, as it towers 
 into the bhie sky a pure petrified prayer? 
 
 Yes, that is German architecture as Erwin von Stein- 
 bach was German — and Strassburg and Alsace also. 
 The cathedral was steeped in beautiful sunlight, for it 
 was a lovely Sunday morning, clear, bright and freSh 
 as only January could bring. The bells in all the 
 towers rang solemnly and gravely summoning the 
 honest burghers to church with their iron tongues. 
 
 But in one heart they aroused no feelings of piety 
 
 only hatred and envy . . . and that was the heart 
 
 of Prince Fiirstenberg, who with the early morning had 
 
 come into the city in disguise. He who bore the title 
 
 of Bishop of Strassburg now lived far from his diocese; 
 
 for since the Reformation there had scarcely been a 
 
 hundred Cafholic families in Lutheran Strassburg and 
 
 the Cathedral was in the hands of the Protestants. 
 
 Lutheran preachers proclaimed within its sacred walls 
 
 Lutheran doctrines. The Prince Bishop foamed with 
 
 rage when he thought of it. The cathedral originally 
 
 193 
 
 ai^....>-^->gr.- :,t, :.,^y.-'-:-..<i»ifeiaafei!^<.., ■/-gr.;^-^^^»....MikArliJja-^a>i^aM^i^^^ , ji'iii iiiiiiiiiiiiiBilMHMHBiriirit'ii i'"ii'inr 'Tiif'iBliiS 
 
KS^W?»^^¥«PB^BB^«™^^s«C^!5eSI|l* w?*' i«i^;r»^!jT(r,4B5'g!?f™«!r»'<r ' 
 
 ALMA X99 
 
 belonged to the true Church — the reformation had 
 only robbed them of it — and the Bishop Egon should 
 in justice and by right rule in this beautiful building. 
 
 Such were the bishop's thoughts while, the bells 
 were ringing; and the hatred against the unbelievers 
 \A\o now possessed the minister swelled his heart with 
 fury. 
 
 The Prince Bishop bit his lips his eyes flashed 
 defiantly but a voice in the depths of his heart 
 cried: "Patience, we will yet conquer. Let Strassburg 
 but become French and then we shall return to it 
 again. By all the saints I, I Prince Bishop of Strass- 
 burg, will yet lead Louis IV into the cathedral a 
 victor." 
 
 Modest, austere and truly pious was Alma — the lovely 
 daughter of the worthy Syndicus Frantz — as she 
 walked to church' at her mother's side. Her eyes were 
 cast down; her hands held the little black silver-clasped 
 hymn-book. The long Journey which her father was 
 obliged to take in the severe weather, and the long 
 separation, was hard for the child who loved her 
 parents so fondly; besides this, came fears for the be- 
 loved cit}-, whose unhappy position the old gentleman 
 had explained to her mother and herself in confidence, 
 and finally anxiety for tlie love she bore in her heart, 
 and which seemed to meet with more and more ob- 
 stacles every day. Frau Hedv/ig walked along gravely 
 and silently. She was thinking of her distant hus- 
 band and of the storms which threatened the future. 
 
 a>-LAiLg^Ii?a£i:.;;-j=^^i5;:a>-a^fefa,^^ 
 
-■f*^pf^!f^«^-.^-^-T;^'-''i=->:rT=r:^^^^f'^*s-,.w5^ ---i^^s-^^ 
 
 200 A ROVAL RORBFR : -. : > 
 
 But tb.e bells rang on gravely and solemnly and 
 
 called to every one needing consolation — come! come! 
 come! come! And actual!}' there came Herr Giinzer. . 
 He never failed to be at church. Hov/ hancisomely he 
 was dressed, and how he held his prayer-book so that 
 every one could see itt His manner was quiet and 
 grave, and he saluted the respected Frau Frantz and 
 her daughter v;ith a low bow as the}' entered the' 
 church. The former returned his salutation with dig, 
 nity, but Alma did not notice it. ' 
 
 More burghers and their wives came streaming in. 
 The little tailor^ Franz Blasius Wenck, came across 
 the market-place and by the old "Rfalz," the residence 
 of the councilor. But he was not as merry as usual. 
 There was a sorrowful expression in his little, spark- 
 ling eyes-. 
 
 Meister Wenck had vainly sought for Syndicus 
 Frantz to intonn him of the suspicious meeting be-- 
 tween Giinzer and tlie bishop. Tl.e Syndicus — so he 
 was told— had gone away on business. But the secret 
 depressed and Vv'oie apor; Wenck, wlio loved the wel- 
 fare of his falLerland v.ith n-is whole soul. To whom 
 should he confess il^ From whom might he hope for- 
 counsel and consolation? Yes! there was one who 
 could give comfort, and that was the One above, ^' 
 who surely knevv how to protect Strassburg from 
 treacher}', and were not^the bells ringing out solemnly : 
 come! come! come! come! 
 
 W'juck entered. He had just reached his place when 
 
 tfs-iS"' afigffia'mi^i^'^teli laMiteSiRft '.•»taiaB«aiaasE'4; ahgip^ 
 
»^?*?^^^^^^5?£/--?*^^***^?-i^i'**"^^^^ ':- . 
 
 ALMA 
 
 20 1 
 
 the organ sent forth its mighty waves of sound through 
 the church, far above the heads of the worshipers. 
 
 Then the tones died av/ay, and the worthy, old mi n- 
 i^ster, with the snow-white hair and ilie mild, benevo 
 lent expression, entered the chancel. 
 
 All present devoutly foilov^ed the pious v.'ords of the 
 worthy minister — with only one exception, though lie 
 tried to express in his manner the utmost attention 
 and the greatest interest. 
 
 This person was Giliizei', wliose miud was occupied 
 with ver}' different thouglus. Hugo, liie son of Stett- 
 meister von Zedlitz, sat not far frorfi ]iin:i, and oppo- 
 site him, in the ladies' seai, was llie wife of Syndicus 
 Frantz v/lth her pretly- daugliler. 
 
 Herr Ganzer, therefore:; had plcjit}' of opportunit} 
 to observe the two 3'oung people, and indeed did so 
 all the more sharp!}' because jealousy lent him her 
 e3'es. 
 
 Gunzer sat with his. tall, slender body bending for- 
 ward, and his Liead on- one side as if wholly engrossed 
 in the sermon. His manner expressed interest and 
 devotion, his eyes were cast down, but from under the 
 eyelids constant glances wandered towards Hugo ami 
 Alma. 
 
 These looks had long since made him av.are of an 
 uncomfortable secret. There could be no doubt that 
 the young people loved each other. The sudden Idusli 
 when they saw each other on entering their pew be- 
 trayed it; it was confirmed by the joyous flash uf their 
 
 A^S^^fS^iLaS^im^^iiBi^ 
 
-3 * r. J. ' - 
 
 ■- ■^■' ' '"^^ Jis*'*^ isgi^^g^Btaf M' y wi^BjggptMjyMj^Mti ILPKiis^^^ggg^^^ ?^p?^sgp^' 
 
 202 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 eyes if they chanced to meet during the singing. 
 Gunzer was convinced that the two hearts were not 
 indifferent to each other. This would have made him 
 very uneasy, now that he, too, was interested in Alma, 
 if the rupture between the two families was not well 
 known, a rupture which he secretly sought to nourish 
 and increase in every possible manner. But Syndicus 
 Frantz and Stettmeister Zedlitz both had strong wills 
 and characters, that were not easily influenced. It 
 was not possible that they would permit a serious love 
 affair between their children. Gunzer relied upon 
 this; still he was too wise a man of the world to trust 
 the awakening passion of love in two young hearts. 
 He knew that love was a playful chi-ld, but often be- 
 came a lion that would tear away all barriers. 
 
 Hugo had more than once put his hand to bis left 
 side, as if he wished to assure himself that he still 
 had what was hidden in the breast pocket of his coat. 
 At the same time this was probably a sign to the 
 young girl. 
 
 "What could it be? A present for Alma? A^poem 
 addressed to her? — Hugo wrote poetry — or perhaps 
 even a love-letter with a passionate declaration, and 
 such a written offer the clerk feared very muchj but 
 it was to be expected, for how otherwise could Hugo 
 approach her?" 
 
 Whatever it might be, it was to be given to the 
 Syndicus' daivgbter secretly, for she would not leave 
 her mother's side. The only possibility of approach- 
 
 S-yu'jySS&'is^ie,!\-i)lif3fM^Sillj^ 
 
f'S«!»^^^^<^f^!5'i^^!fs^!^T^'*^^^«^'^^^''™*C 
 
 ALMA 203 
 
 ing Alma was as the people streamed out of church, 
 and it would then be necessary to watch clo^el}'. 
 
 The benediction was pronounced, the notes of the 
 organ again pealed forth, and the mass of people 
 surged towards the doors. 
 
 They were pressed and crushed so that It w?.s scarce!}' 
 possible to move hand or foot. In fact one would 
 need to be as cat-like and slippery, a Giinzer, to 
 squeeze through and gain one's chosen position. He 
 succeeded. He was now close behind Alma, who with 
 eyes modestly cast down, left the church at her 
 mother's side, as she had entered it, without looking 
 at the crowd pressing behind and about her. 
 
 Giinzer tried to stoop as if he had dropped some- 
 thing. 
 
 Jit - the same moment a hand holding a letter, 
 touched Alma's dress. 
 
 The young girl started, her book slipped from her 
 iiand, she tried to catch it, but Gflnzer had already 
 grasped it and handed it to her again. 
 
 Hugo's eyes Hashed, another hand had taken his 
 letter. 
 
 But he was happy in the thought that she under- 
 stood him. 
 
 She blushed crimson as she saw him. 
 
 They were in the street again, the crowd dispersed 
 in every direction. Gunzer was triumphant, the trophy 
 was his, he held the note in his hand. 
 
 He hurried home, and tore it open with trembling 
 fingerib 
 
 ^..X&.'&b,.a/^L..^..>„^tK&-^... — ■^^^-.A^.. '-„ja.^.y. .i JjC^it-.^ ^, .^aJ?^J>^» - ."^ ■ - „<:.u.l.-. . >" -J-^ . -■>. JX . . .. _ 1 *■*! *" f "^'^^S^ilH-'^ '' 1 1 1 *• il iTl~ 1 i'li i'" iiiilr' '"i^iMll lill"l"Mfi>ttTil)l 
 
T««^_^«?wj^«p»^ppsr'Sfi5i^fK^jjr^!<^ 
 
 UO4 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 He had not been mistaken. It was a declaration of 
 
 love in the form of a poem. 
 
 His head burned. Had it gone so far already? 
 
 There must be no time lost on his part, if the young 
 girl's hand, together with her fine fortune, was not to 
 be lost to him. He must knov/ where he was. 
 But how should he do this? 
 
 His position gave him admittance to the Syndiciis' 
 liouse at any hour. Suppose he should use the poem 
 himself? 
 
 It was §0 fiery, so glowing, as passionate as it wns 
 beautifub But it mast be done quickl}', before the 
 young girl could pos3il)ly learn tlie true author. 
 
 An-J could there be a better time to take Alma nnvd 
 lier moliier by surprise than now while the Syndicus 
 Avas awav. 
 
 "Fi)rtune favors the brave!" exclaimed Giinzer, and 
 sat down to co])y tlie poem as well as he could. 
 
 He su'xeedc'd admirably. 
 
 But how his h'jort beat when, in the afternoon, he 
 hanled it to tii3 lovely Alma, and at tlie same time 
 asked her mother for the heiress' hand. 
 
 Should he, who hiimself possessed a good fortune 
 and wliose position in tlie governnient was one of the 
 best and most influential, nhculd Ivj sue in vain? 
 
 And 3'et! and yet it wds so! 
 
 What he had thought impossible happened. Mother 
 and daughter refused the offer, politely it is true, but 
 * itli almc-:': ^r-riFculine decision. 
 
 iat.i.,-:gfeifr.-.::»ga«.»;afeaKaaa>iia;tii^ajika^^ 
 
 gjtfmtt :iglliii^mM!S::2^^^:.^s^ii^ 
 
^^i^^l3''5^f^p^^p5'np'S^--3^'^?^ -r^ ■ .'-■ 
 
 ^ ALMA 205 
 
 Giinzer coiiIc^ scarcely control his rage as he left the 
 house. Haired filled his v.diole souh Hatred against 
 Frantz, his wife and daughter ; hatred above all things, 
 bitter, insatiabde hatred towarrls Hugo, his rival. 
 
 And Giiii^er swore revenge upon all the Frantz 
 famih', revenge upon his fortunate rival! 
 
 i£^jaa.a:ti»^^r-af.^-^r.igi^^.,»»--5i-^ 
 
.c~jr-^ " -'■ . V'--L -' ■. .*'■ ^v" ■,. '•' '-' -~- ' ;.■ '.■■ <r^''^-^' ---s •sr;r'ti;^'*T*™T^ 
 
 CHAPTER XVIIL 
 
 THE TRAITORS. 
 
 S}'ndicus Frantz still remained in Vienna, where 
 he sought to win freedom and independence for his 
 native city, and enable the important, indispensable 
 stronghold of Strassburg to be retained by the German 
 empire, but without obtaining either frorn ministers 
 or Emperor anything that met the hopes and wishes 
 of the sorely threatened city. To be sure they talked 
 of sending an auxiliary army of forty thousand men, 
 but it was soon evident that they were to serve against 
 the Turks, not against the French. 
 
 Thus, notwithstanding the superhuman efforts of tna 
 Syndicus and tlie cry of anguish from Strassburg, 
 nothing was done in Vienna, while Louis XIV and 
 Louvois advanced with a boldness that has not its 
 equal in history. 
 
 A new and unheard-of step ^yas taken by the French 
 government. They suddenly adopted the measures 
 arranged in regard to Alsace, to Landau, and the dis- 
 trict lying between that city and Weissenburg. But 
 in order to take away from this seizure the appearance 
 of flagrant despotism, and at the same time to repre- 
 sent it as the just consequences of the Westphalian 
 
 '.^•■tiiii4ffr<r^ir^ii?^iiigte'ltii»ii-^ 
 

 ^THE TRAITORS 207 
 
 treaty, the decision of the case was referred to the 
 " Chamhres de Reunions," the highest council in Brei- 
 sach, and similar questions concerning Lorraine and 
 Burgundy were given to the Parliament of Metz. At 
 the same time the different nobles of the land received 
 directions to prove their right to their estates and 
 property before French courts. 
 
 In vain city, country, and nobles, as a portion of the 
 German Empire and totally independent of France, 
 protested against this measure. Louvois and his king 
 treated them with contempt and violence. Without 
 paying the slightest attention to their petitions, re- 
 monstrances and protestations, the Chambres de Re- 
 unions placed the whole ecclesiastical and civil 
 property of the country under the supervision of 
 the French government and, demanded that they 
 should immediately take the oath of allegiance to 
 Louis XIV, king of France, affix the French coat of 
 arms to the city gates and public buildings, and in all 
 legal matters, should obtain a final decision from no 
 other court than the French one at Breisach, 
 
 To give this outrage the necessary show of authority, 
 the French general, Montclar, marched forward, re- 
 ceived the troops stationed in Alsace and established 
 large store-houses at various points. The inhabitants 
 vainly refused to take the oath of allegiance. The 
 order was executed with military precision; if the 
 land-owners made complaints to the French minister 
 —Louvois a,n4 Colbert de Croissy — they were told that 
 '. . ^ c ---^■- " - ' ... -— «^ 
 
 li^^^fiifia^^i^^^StiM^^&^it^^d^ . .£:... '.v'^ 
 
 ^, St'. .■^!t.kri^:,„^JitiSjiR^ 
 

 ■*€*i*X^ ^^«#*^*^ 
 
 208 ' 
 
 A ROYAL ROBIiEU 
 
 their Injuiries were r.o cabinet affairs, but a legal- 
 inacter, they lUiist not therefore turn to the govern- 
 jnent b-it to tiie C'lai^ihrcs de Reunions at Metz and 
 Breisach wliich ih2 glorious Ixing Louis XTV had in- 
 stituced, to prove to his neighbors that' he would do 
 110 injustice! 
 
 Syndicus Frantz soon despaired of meeting with 
 any success in Vienna. He assailed the ministers 
 with entrearias, but nothing was done. The bishop 
 of Strassburg had in the name, and by order of the 
 Frjucli ruler, written palliating and mediating letters 
 anJ made the proposition: to order the disputed points 
 to be settled by special einbassadors to a congress at 
 Frankfort on the Maiiie. 
 
 Vienna, the emperor, all Germany -did nothing, 
 while Fraiice continued to rob Gcimany and her other 
 neighbors and acfgrandize herself. 
 
 The whole Duchy of Zweibrucken, at that time a 
 posses-ion of tlie Swedish king, was claimed as a 
 j'reiich fief. King Charles XI was invited before the 
 Ouiriihres de Reunions and as he did not appear, the 
 Di-ichy was taken away from h.Im. It was given to 
 the Count Palatine Birkenfeld, and this German 
 viince joyfully took the oath of allegiance to the 
 king of France. The same th-ng was done to the king 
 of Spain. He too, according to preconcerted plans, 
 ^^•as summoned before the Cliaml)rcs de Reunions and 
 as lie did not appear, was declared to have forfeited 
 the Principality of Chima}', the city of Cor try k and the 
 
 ^^^^^i&M&M 
 
 i".,'gfea£te¥S^saa.'a:-aa..w, 
 
THE TRAITORS SOQ 
 
 Duch}' and fortress of Luxemburg,, whereupon France 
 took possession of all of these cities b}* militar}- force. 
 
 Syndicus Frantz trembled at this injustice. He re- 
 doubled his efforts and staked everything on the at- 
 tainment of his mission; health, rest, even the favor 
 of the ministers, to whom his persistency became very 
 annoying. Frantz persevered with the firmness and 
 tenacity of a true German patriot. He spoke with 
 glowing eloquence, showed in the most forcible manner 
 how important Strassburg was to Germany, explained 
 that it was the duty of the emperor to come to the 
 assistance of his German subjects! . . but all in vain! 
 
 At last they decided to send ambassadors to the con- 
 gress at Frankfort. But during this time the enemy 
 had been active. Louvois had entered into negotia- 
 tions with Giinzer through the Bishop of Strassburg, 
 and the clerk promised to secretly further Louvois' 
 plans with the magistrates and people as much as 
 possible. A hundred thousand thalers were appropria- 
 ted to bribe the members of the government. He also 
 swore to return to the Catholic church, and promised 
 his assistance in gaining to her proselytes. In return 
 for this, the bishop, in the nameof Louvois, promised 
 him thirty thousand thalers and — when Strassburg 
 had become French and the cathedral been given back 
 to the Catholic church, — one of the first, most lucrative, 
 and influential positions. 
 
 This was certainly a pleasant prospect for Gilnzer. 
 He had long since intentionally striven for such a 
 
 !4 Robber 
 
 La»3;*tai:^.-TWFi*flSl*.-.«»-«,»iJ>T...-<r>' .—:.,.» J>M«*f ._ _t.T-W.Sw5.~-' ._.-%** 3 
 
^^^■''f'^^ft^-^iryyi'^^^'^'^^^^^^il^^ 
 
 2IO A ROYAL ROBBER ] 
 
 bribe on the part of France; now it came, and the fall 
 of Strassburg was doubly welcome to him. With such 
 a catastrophe all his enemies, the German patriots and 
 Syndicus Frantz at their head, must be ruined, to- 
 gether with their families. | ^ 
 
 Once in the hands of the cruel and unprincipled Lou- 
 vois, the}'' were, if Giinzer wished, irrevocably lost. ■ 
 
 The latter already thought triumphantly, of his 
 revenge. But it was still too far away for his hated 
 rival. An earlier blow must crush him; the more so 
 because Hugo belonged to the patriots and would not 
 only render the work of betraj'al more difficult, but — ■ 
 if his wooing of Alma and the perfidious use of the 
 poem came to Hugo's ears — might become personally 
 dangerous to him. ' 
 
 Giinzer, urged on b}' jealous}' and hatred, did not 
 require much reflection to invent a diabolical plan, and 
 instantly set to work. 
 
 But if this were to succeed, Hugo must first be 
 separated from his father, for he must receive no 
 assistance from the Stettmeister. This was not so 
 difficult a task, for a breach had long existed between 
 Hugo and old Herr Zedletz. 
 
 Hugo, the strong, resolute youth whose heart beat 
 warmly for everything good and noble — who had edu- 
 cated his mind bj' the study of the classics, and the 
 grandeur of the Greeks and Romans — was naturally a 
 patriot. 
 
 His heart glowed with enthusiastic love for his 
 
 ...Jr.' .^adi^^^ji - - «> . _ ..i-,.. -, .- ■■ ■ ..,. .-,". » .^i;-,^ '1 :^V.&i.;....«L-5!fe.iVkjfc".'-/-."'v:<"l']ij',Ci .; ".f^-^i^i^^i^is^i^jiiiili^MSi^lA^^i^ ^aifc.'. 
 
S!fip?^w^¥Ws|?^??^'^as^^j^^;^p^s^?||5^^p8fe^!Sgs^»^?5S^ ■ 
 
 THE TRAITORS 211 
 
 native city and the beautiful German Fatherland. 
 Louvois' base and insolent conduct enraged the youth's 
 noble mind, and inspired him with the utmost con- 
 tempt for Louis the "great" and his accomplices. 
 
 The noble youth recognized his sacred duty and ful- 
 filled it in every act, especially by his beautiful and 
 vigorous poems. 
 
 Hugo's patriotic poems made a great impression in 
 those excited political times, but the Stettmeister 
 condemned them in the harshest and most violent 
 manner. Though old Herr Zedletz was no friend to 
 the French government, he was a timid man, whom 
 fear of the powerful enemy rendered half-hearted in 
 politics and action. And in truth, he had companions 
 in timidity and fear in the Ammeister Dominique, 
 Dietrich, and many of the other members of the 
 magistrac3^ 
 
 With such totally different views and characters, the 
 father and son were soon at variance with each other. 
 The old gentleman saw himself, the magistrates, and 
 even the city itself, threatened and compromise by his 
 son's action, while the son reproached the father and 
 the city government for destroying the public by their 
 indecision. 
 
 Thus a wide breach had arisen between father and 
 son which Giinzer in pursuit of his plan of revenge 
 now rendered impassable. The scoundrel, under pre- 
 tense of the warmest friendship and interest for the 
 welfare and honor of the family, gave Herr Zedlitz 
 
 SSs^;^ii»i«i;':isiffifS.^s»SiJ:S2S^--ji^5^^^ : --"-i- L-:-i..;ra.hS^^ i.^ \j. • 
 
■ ' - - ,' - -.i~ '- " >-^* , " ~ 
 
 212 A ROVAT, ROBRKR , I' . 
 
 his son's poetical love letter to Alma Frantz in the 
 original liantlwriting. -..^^ . 
 
 Tlie fatlier imnjcdiatelx' recogni-ed it, and enraged ■ 
 at tliis love, called liis son and there followed a scene, 
 althoiigli at G;:nzcr"s entreaties nothing was said of 
 the poem, wliich eniirel}' separated fatlier and son, and 
 embittered tliem the more, becanse, in the passionate 
 outburst of auger from two men wlio entertained such 
 different political viev;s, the}; woundcMl each other with 
 reckless severity. But this was Glinzer's intention; 
 the first step to the fulfillment of his revenge was 
 taken. 
 
 The second was to make the magistrates keep Syndi- 
 cus Frantz in A^ienna. In this too, the persuasive and 
 cunning man succeeded by the assistance of his party. 
 But he knevv- that tliere was no danger for him. The 
 hancis of the Viennese court were tied by the Turks, 
 and all anxiety in behalf of Strassburg wa~. appeased 
 bv the false information of the prince of Ffirstenberg. 
 
 But now it was necessary to deal the principal blow. 
 
 The French bribes were already in Giinzer's hands, 
 so he had means to farther his plans by the potent 
 aid of gold. 
 
 Alienated from his father's house, from Alma, who 
 during Herr Frantz's absence, and in consequence of 
 Giinzer's offer, lived with her m.other in almost nun- 
 like seclusion, hearing nothing and seeing nothing in-' 
 the outside world — Hugo was more than ever v^rilling 
 to join other young men. And strange! In a marvel- 
 
 ^^i^^^^^aii^^^^^^: 
 
THE TRAITORS 21 3 
 
 ously short time there were a great manj who attracted 
 him, because they shared his political opinions. 
 
 Enthusiastic and ardent, as youth ever is, they soon 
 became united by the warmest ties of friendship, and 
 formed a club where they could openly express their 
 opinions. 
 
 How warmly the young hearts beat for the good 
 cause, how they extolled their native city and country! 
 With what noble patriotism the\' spoke of the wa}"s 
 and means by which Strassburg might possibly be 
 saved from the hands of Louis and Louvois. A change 
 in the magistrates and the introduction of a 3'ounger 
 element seemed to be the most feasible plan. 
 
 They talked and wrote a great deal about it, and 
 Hugo Zediitz who had been nominated president of 
 the little club was the most eloquent, open, and enthu- 
 siastic of them all. 
 
 He did not imagine that it was Herr Giinzer who 
 had brought these 3'oung people to him; it did not oc- 
 cur to him that he was caught in the snare of his deadly 
 enemy, to wliom every word was sent, for Vvhom every 
 document was copied; who had already given informa- 
 tion to "the council of thirteen." The latter were 
 horrified and enraged at the traitorous step of the 
 thoughtless youths. Suppose it should come to the 
 ears of the Frencli ambassador, of Monsieur Louvois, 
 or His Majesty of France, would not the existence of 
 the little republic be jeopardized? 
 
 Half of the anxious ones and time-servers, old Herr 
 
 L^Siiii^,s^^sAMlSS^i^^^i&^^^ii^s^S!^a:^^^mS^^^^SiSi^i^iSS^^^^SM 
 
™;^^,r™=>»^.V5'.^>;^^^»5^»--»^? 
 
 214 
 
 -•■v^g^-^Sps^n 
 
 J^'^^^SrTl'«^:'Wl^»!pp!^SI7^SS!^' 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 ■^rs 
 
 Zedlitz at their head, were in despair — Giinzer had 
 not as yet mentioned the names of the members of 
 the club, but all were beside themselves with rage and 
 horror when the news that a reorganization of the 
 magistracy and the introduction of a younger and 
 stronger element had been discussed, came to their 
 ears. Ha! that was high treason! it was written in 
 the shworbrief of 1482 that "All alliances shall be pun- 
 ished by banishment," and this was a secret covenant 
 against the city government, and one that was laboring 
 for its fall and dissolution. ' ■' 
 
 So the imprisonment of the traitors was unani- 
 mously determined upon, and if everything was con- 
 firmed, sentence of banishment was pronounced in ad- 
 vance. 
 
 ^^Sifj^-t-'ij^n:'A'-7/-^'!~'.-\~-!:''Ji:, 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A TRYING HOUR. 
 
 Quite near the so called "Cat's tower" on the 111, 
 which runs through the city in many streams, stood 
 a little house, at that time called the "Crab," in which 
 an old fisherman kept a tavern. A crab carved in wood 
 and painted red, and over it the figure of a man painted 
 in many colors, was the sign, which no one could in- 
 terpret. The tavern of the Crab was used only by com- 
 mon people; such as sailors, fishermen, workmen oc- 
 cupied on the water, or in the streets, and even these 
 did not often visit it. 
 
 On the present evening there were only two men in 
 the little room, whose walls, and ceiling were so black 
 from smoke and dirt that it looked more like a prison 
 than the parlor of an inn. 
 
 And indeed the old broken oil lamp, which burned 
 dimly on the table, was as little suited to dispel this 
 illusion on the part of a guest, as the table itself, 
 whose rude, wooden top bore hundred of names and 
 initials. 
 
 There was so much dirt and earth on the stone-paved 
 floor, that one might easily have planted beets there. 
 Only the old fishing implements, which hung on th« 
 
 215 
 
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'^^C- 
 
 
 »5*3Pi--^,'- "^-^s- 
 
 216 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 wail, and the few cans and mugs standing upon the 
 worm-eaten table, dispelled the fancy, and brought one 
 back to reality. 
 
 There, on the evening In question, sat two guests: 
 the little tailor Wcnck and an old constable, whose 
 red, copper-colored face proved that he served Bac- 
 chus, the noble god of the vine, at least as faithfully 
 as the wise magistrates of the free cit}' of Strassburg. 
 
 And it was Meister Wenck who had brought the 
 already someu'liat intoxicated Trombert here. A 
 strange report liad been spreail tlirough the city that 
 evening. The\ spoke ot the sudden arrest of Giinzer; 
 but the affair was so mysterious that no one could un- 
 derstand whether it was founded on fact or not. 
 
 That this report interested the little tailor very much 
 was only natural. He asked and spied about, but had 
 not learned anything definite when he met Trombert 
 near the "Cats' tower." ' 
 
 Wenck knevv' that the constable had alread}' taken 
 more than sufficient to quench his thirst, for he was 
 w^ell acqiiainted with him. as they had served in the 
 sanur regiment. "Who knows what good it may do!" 
 thoiight ihe little tailor, and joined his old comrade. 
 
 "Good evening, Trombert," said he. standing just 
 in front of the servant of the law' and Bacchus, where 
 did you coroo from?" 
 
 "Straight from the Pfalz!" 
 
 "Still on business?" 
 
 "I should think soi" 
 
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 - - A TRYING HOUR 21?:; 
 
 "You are an important man in the city." 
 
 "May be so; old Trombert is wanted for a good many 
 important things. " 
 
 "Indeed!" exclaimed Meister Wenck. "Is there any 
 truth in that report?" 
 
 "What report?" 
 
 "Well . . . they say — it is whispered — " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "That Herr Gtlnzer has been arrested!" 
 
 "Herr Gunzer! " exclaimed Trombert, bursting into 
 a hearty laugh, "gossips always have to invent and 
 chatter. Herr Gfinzer in prison!" and he laughed 
 again, till the air resounded with the shout. 
 
 "But there must be something- 
 
 "Yes ! something, something!" said Trombert mys- 
 teriously, "but we don't tie that on the jackanapes' 
 noses!" 
 
 The tailor listened in astonishment; there must be 
 something going on. 
 
 "You are right, Trombert!" said he, "what is the use 
 of letting foolis^i people know everything. I laughed 
 at them too. Let the fools gossip and put their heads 
 together' I go and drink my can of Vv^ine!" 
 
 "Indeed?" said the constable, who had the pecu- 
 liarity not only of being glad to serve Bacchus, but if 
 possible to do so at another's expense. 
 
 "Will you be my guest, Trombert?" W'enck asked. 
 
 "I don't care iTl do! if it won't take more than an 
 hour." 
 
 d&£CS\_A,^^mf_«»£^; 
 
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 2l8 A ROYAT, ROBBER 
 
 "Not half an hour," said the tailor, "we will step 
 into the 'Crab' here!" 
 
 "Into the pig pen?" 
 
 "Hush, Trombert, there is some excellent wine in 
 the dirty hole. And then we should have to go so far. " 
 
 "Well then, Meister Wendf, I follow you," replied 
 Trombert, smacking his lip. 
 
 But Wenck had still another reason. He knew that 
 here he should be alone and over the wine could draw 
 out the old man's secret. They were sitting over the 
 second can, when made talkative b}; the liquor and 
 the shrewd cross-questioning of the little tailor, Trom- 
 bert, under the seal of the greatest secrecy, at last so 
 far exposed his secret to his old comrade that Wenck 
 learned with horror that: "A conspiracy, against the 
 government had been discovered —at the head of which 
 was young Zedlitz — that in an hour the traitors were 
 to be taken unawares in their club room, delivered up 
 to the magistrates, and punished for high treason." 
 
 Wenck trembled with horror. Young Zedlitz, the 
 author of the beautiful poems, whom he and all Strass- 
 burg honored — this noble, young man arrested! he, 
 one of the most decided patriots, a traitor to the 
 government, guilty of high treason! 
 
 No it was impossible! But might not the error pre- 
 vail? Would it not be well to warn the young man? 
 
 "Yes, who knows what good it may do!" thought 
 Wenck, ordered another can of wine, told Trombert to 
 drink it quietly at his expense and went off, pleading 
 weariness. I. 
 
 ii#Hii>--t"--^-'^'V-"'i'yN^^Mfe?i'- '•■'-; ^ ii --irr-i.i?:fM ■i-'-''-r- ^r:ii'i^-ntimfm^e.s-V'r:'%-]MHi^^^^^^^ 
 

 A TRYING HOUR 219 
 
 But Meister Wenck had scarcely left the "Crab" 
 when he hastened as quickly as possible to the Zedlitz 
 houfee. Since his last quarrel with his father, Hugo 
 had lived in a room in the back building, entirely 
 alone. Wenck soon reached the house, and hurried 
 up the little staircase with a beating heart. Hugo 
 was still sitting over his books and papers. 
 
 The information was quickly given. Hugo turned 
 pale. He was he a traitor to his city? he, who 
 had such honest intentions towards her, who only 
 thought of her welfare, her happy future? 
 
 Wenck urged him to take a hasty flight; but the 
 youth, in the full consciousness of his innocence, re- 
 jected the proposition with noble pride. 
 
 "No," cried he boldly, raising his handsome head, 
 "that would be cowardice! that would be acknowledg- 
 ing myself guilty where I am perfectly innocent." 
 
 "But reflect that calumny may be at work here, " an- 
 swered Wenck anxiously. 
 
 "Then my honor demands that I refute it." 
 
 "You have a number of enemies in the magistracy, 
 sir!" 
 
 "That is true, and unfortunately my father is among 
 them!" 
 
 "My God! Be wise and prudent, sir, appearances 
 are against you." 
 ' "How so!" 
 
 "I, at least, cannot think otherwise: you have de- 
 cided upon a total reorganization of the magistracy. " 
 
 -N s 
 
 
' ^sf 'wr'W n -?* J'T^^'9^'^''^'''^SW'?''^=^^9!'^S^^^ 
 
 220 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 Hdgo smiled. 
 
 "T)o }f)u impute to me — or to our little club, such a 
 foolish act? What could we young people do?" 
 
 "But for this very reason — " ' V' 
 
 "Wc only talked about the matter, discussed It." 
 
 "Then you are all lost." ' : ■-i^*^ 
 
 How so? -■ ! 
 
 "Because they will interpret every innocent word as 
 treason." ' ' i- 
 
 Hugo bec^ime inoie serious. 
 
 "Herr von Zedlitz!" cried the little tailor, looking 
 imploringly at the young man, "}'ou knovv* I am your 
 friend, that I am a patriot and am not a coward!" 
 
 "I know itj my dear Wenck!" I . --". 
 
 "Well then, take my advice" ,: /';: 
 
 "And that is?'^' " '^^ 
 
 "Follow me to my house without delay." " . 
 
 "Flight . . . no!" - 
 
 "You shall not flee. " 
 
 "What then?" ^ -- 
 
 "OrAv conceal yo!;rseif for a few days, till we know 
 how the magistrates take the matter . . . whether they 
 consider it high treason." " . 
 
 "Tha.t they cannot do." _ 
 
 "Oil! ' cried the littie tailor in despair. "If the 
 worth)' S} n.Ciicus Frantz were only here. But as it is, 
 the part}' of patriots have neither head nor support. 
 The}' will succumb io GCinzer a-ul his adlierents!" 
 
 Hugo starte.!: the nauhe of Frantz and Giinzer had 
 awakened an unexpected train of thought 
 
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 M^xi^e^'i^ii^^^ 
 
??f^^y,f»^'i~m^^WKm*^f^~r^^' • 
 
 •i ;::— ' -' A TRYING HOUR 221 
 
 "Conceal yourself with me if only for t»vo or three 
 days!" repeated the tailor urgently. "Reflect, who 
 knows wliat good it may' do!" 
 
 "Very Vvcii! I will follow }our advice, Meister Wenck. 
 But only for a fev/ days, till we know!" 
 
 "God. be praised, " cried the delighted tailor. "And 
 now there is not a momeijt to lose. Throw a cloak 
 around you, take an old cap, and follow me through 
 the side streets. " 
 
 The youth did as the worthy tailor advised, and a 
 few moments later the)' left the Zediitz m.ansion. 
 
 Two days had elapsed. Hugo was awaiting the little 
 tailor''s return in a small rooin vchich Wenck had pre- 
 pared for his reception. The latter had gone into the 
 cit}' to learn how matters stood v/ith Hugo and his 
 friends. The sentence \vas to be given to-da}', the 
 proofs lay before them, and the magistrates wished to 
 give a quick and decided proof that e\'ery conspiracy 
 against France was disapproved, and at the same time 
 to set forth an example that the government was strong 
 enough to strike down its enemies at home. 
 . Hugo had already waited three hours. 
 
 The door opened and Wenck entered, looking deadly- 
 pale. 
 
 "Lost!" cried Hugo, starting up. 
 
 "Lost!" replied Wenck, almost voiceless with emo- 
 tion. "Oh! unhappy v/orld! the true and honest 
 friends of our native land are banished, and the trait- 
 ors sit triumphant at the head of the government. ' 
 -*-_ ■ • . ^ . , . . . . > . . * . ---»_. 
 
!^'^s*^^'^''^ji?Npwf!'i^!n'4i'»?«''w|»aH^^ -^ ^^^^ 
 
 111 A ROYAL ROBBER i 
 
 'Explain, Wenck, explain!" 
 
 "The sentence is strange. I cannot understand it.^, 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 "All the members, with the exception of the presi- 
 dent—" 
 
 "There were only six." 
 
 - "Are set at liberty at the pressing intercession of 
 Herr Giinzer; but Hugo von Zedlitz, the presi- 
 dent, is convicted of rousing ill-will towards France 
 and stirring up the people against the magistrates of 
 the city—" 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "And, as a traitor, banished from her precincts for- 
 ever. " 
 
 "Impossible," cried Hugo almost beside himself. 
 "Strassburg cannot so shamefully expel her most faith- 
 ful son!" 
 
 "And yet she does it!" answered ^Wenck, forcing 
 back his tears. 
 
 "But that is all a lie," cried Hugo. "Who has stirred 
 up the people to rebel? And did not the others do 
 exactly the same as I? did they not speak even more 
 boldly, so that it was often I who counseled modera- 
 tion." 
 
 "They all swore the contrary, and denounced Hugo 
 von Zedlitz as their leader!" 
 
 "They did that?" 
 
 "Swore it." 
 
 A long, deep silence followed. Hugo stood as if pet' 
 rified. 
 
 3.--.- V-i .aj^^-fT^:^uJiii 
 
-^^m^W^'f^'^K^ -- ,.i-;^ -;:r'^~'.^ ,;:..'; -.:r.^:- . - - ■;^ , ■, /■>■ .■,^5^ 
 
 A TRYING HOUR 223 
 
 At last life seemed to return to him. He quietly 
 and calmly held out his hand to Wenck, and said: "I 
 will go. Invent some way to get me off secretly to- 
 night. I can remain here no longer. May God forgive 
 my enemies what they have done to me. " 
 
 "Go, dear sir!" said Wenck, and he could no longer 
 restrain the tears that flowed down his cheeks. "Go! 
 leave your unhappy and ungrateful city, at least for 
 a time. Submit to the inevitable. Who knows what 
 good it may do! Surely your innocence will be made 
 known, and then . . . then you will come back justi- 
 fied." 
 
 'I will go," repeated Hugo gravely, "but you must 
 do me one more favor." 
 
 "You need money! The little I have saved — " 
 
 "Not that," answered Hugo with deep emotion. 
 "When I left my room with you day before yesterday, 
 I hastily put in my pocket as much as I shall need for 
 the present. I shall meet relatives in Mannheim and 
 then but to the matter in hand." 
 
 "What is that?" 
 
 "Try to speak to Syndicus Frantz's daughter imme- 
 diately." 
 
 "The lovely Alma?" 
 
 Hugo nodded — "but secretly." 
 
 "And then?" 
 
 "Tell her what has happened — that I am innocent 
 tell her what you know." 
 
 "Willingly, dear sir, right willingly." 
 
 ^a^'ig^Ji^a^^^^mMTi-fiiisr iriia i 
 
224 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 'And implore her, by all that is dear and sacred, to 
 give me a quarter of an hour in secret before my de- 
 parture." 
 
 "I will go immediately. I already have an errand 
 to the house. I must speak to Frau Frantz — there 
 are some things on my heart about which she must 
 write to her husband. Who knows what good it may 
 do!" 
 
 "Then you will — " 
 
 "I'll go at once." 
 
 That same evening — while Frau Hedwig sat in her 
 parlor writing to her husband about the important dis- 
 closures Meister Wenck had made, and the exciting 
 incident aboiit Hugo Zedlitz — Hugo saw his beloved. 
 At first conscientious and maidenly scruples had op- 
 posed the step, but the power of the moment, the 
 might of love and despair, which seized upon her, 
 soon conquered. , 
 
 Under the pretense of going to the evening service, 
 she followed Wenck to his house, where she met Hugo, 
 whom she had long loved in silence. , 
 
 ^^rWiSaitftfi^rtraiiMiai]^ ^-^ '-■■'■--^ '--^^j.-^- ■^i£M;.2SS&. 
 
. '^ 1 
 
 VOLUME IL 
 
 POLITICS AND PASSION. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE MASQUERADE. 
 
 Following the banks of the Loire and Indre fr^m 
 Tours, we reach the beautiful spot which is rightly 
 called the "Garden of France," and which is crowned 
 by the famous — or rather infamous — Castle Loches, 
 about whose gloomy walls, battlements, and bulwarks 
 the. ghost, of Louis XI and his hangmen still seem 
 to hover. 
 
 It rises on a hill overlooking the town of Loches. 
 From the tower the eye roves with delight over broad 
 meadows and pastures, which resemble a beautiful, 
 green carpet traversed by the silver thread of the 
 Indre, and bounded by the dark border of dense 
 woods. The foundation of Castle Loches must have 
 been laid in the early times of the French monarchy, 
 as is proved by its style of architecture. 
 
 The castle itself has since been surrounded by mas- 
 
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 226 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 ^■^ — '^'Ty^^. L'?7^>~^s 
 
 'I- 
 
 sive walls, and crowned with battlements. Outside 
 of these are moats and dikes, flanked by round towers 
 provided with cannon. The principal gate was also 
 protected by four towers and a drawbridge , beyond 
 -which were a second and third gate, both provided 
 with huge portcullises — to oppose the steps of the bold 
 intruder. I 
 
 But the most interesting part of the castle was the 
 donjon, a high, square building, which overtopped the 
 whole for<"ress like a tower. It is difficult to fix the 
 epoch at which this part of the castle was built. The 
 donjon of Loches rises a hundred and twenty feet about . 
 the summit of the hill. It can be divided into two 
 pa^ts, namely, the chief tower, which forms an oblong 
 square of about one hundred feet long by thirty feet 
 wide, and a second tower, similar in appearance but 
 much smaller, and which apparently only served as a 
 species of outpost to the first. Passing into this little 
 tower, we see the vestiges of a stair-case, whose steps 
 rested upon a double wall in which arched vaults had 
 been made. This staircase, which was lighted by 
 numberless small windows, ended in the form of a 
 tunnel^ at a door which opened into the first story of 
 the great donjon, and also served as an entrance to a 
 very large apartment, whose paved door "ested upon a 
 stone arch. In the second story was a chapel with an 
 altar on the eastern side, and over this chapel was still 
 another story. 
 The Castle of Loches was one of the most formida- 
 
 MiiiVi'fai^^mr'iiiilffir''iS'«Ti^i-'^n^ 
 
it^?5^r*i?**^Si- " iS.-- ?■ f i.-'" '.- ^^^^\?^7^^y^T^''*^yf!p*^^ 
 
 ~ -'"":-:■'''_-' THE MASQUERADE ' 227 
 
 ble fortresses in France. Such fortresses were of im- 
 portance in times when kings, as well as great and 
 small feudal lords, always had something to do to de- 
 fend themselves, either against foreign invasions, or 
 the aggressions of neighboiing Seigneurs, who in the 
 absence of the English, found time to quarrel with 
 each other, in order to satisfy their hatred and love of 
 plunder. 
 
 The beauties of the country, and the great forest full 
 of deer had also attracted French kings to Loches. 
 Saint Louis, Philip the Fair, John 11, and Louis XI 
 spent a great part of their lives here. 
 
 Louis XIV too had come here. The now omnipo- 
 tent Duchesse de Fontanges had grown weary of V^er- 
 sailles. The bewitchingly beautiful marble statue — 
 as she was called at court from her outward appear- 
 ance — was well known there, and therefore her un- 
 bounded vanity no longer found the nourishment it 
 desired. The king's charming mistress, whom even the 
 endless flatteries of the court no longer satisfied wanted 
 new admirers. The sun of beauty glittered in Paris 
 and Versailles, Marly and St. Germain, in the zenith 
 of her power and splendor but the rest of France must 
 also admire her and sink adoringly at her feet. For 
 this reason, she had persuaded the king to visit W'ith 
 her and the whole court, Orleans Belois, Tours, An- 
 gers and Nantes, so on his return Louis had stopped 
 at Loches, and on account of the splendid hunting, es- 
 tablished himself and court in the castle for a long stay. 
 
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 228 A ROYAL ROBBER' 
 
 ^'5- 
 
 This stay was not exactly agreeable to the lovely 
 Marie. What should she do at lonely Loches? Here 
 there was little to be dazzled. The city and vicinity 
 were soon seen, but the nobles were not numerous, 
 and at the same time less smooth and flattering than 
 those of the court; nay, when the latter, accustomed 
 to see the king constantly languishing in the chains 
 of a mistress, honored Angeline de Fontanges almost 
 more than the queen, the ruder but less corrupt no- 
 bility of the country often held back coolly with for- 
 bidding reserve. 
 
 Of course the king gave festival upon festival In 
 honor of his beautiful mistress; hunts, plays, theatri- 
 cal representations and rural balls, at which he re- 
 joiced to see Angeline shine; but to her the old fort- 
 ress seemed empty and deserted. Fear and anxiety 
 often took possession of her in the spacious, dreary 
 rooms, whose gloomy magnificence was actuall}' repel- 
 lant. Were there not legends of many horrors which 
 had been perpetrated within these walls; of spirits 
 and ghosts that till appeared in the old towers and 
 rooms. ! 
 
 It was fortunate that Angeline, in addition to her 
 royal lover, had so gay a friend in the Due de St. Aig- 
 nan. Here in gloomy Loches he was doubly welcome 
 witli his thousand and one stories and anecdotes, his 
 wit and unfailing cheerfulness. In unguarded mo- 
 ments something still stirred in Angeline's breast that 
 would xiPt harmonize with the happy life she appar- 
 
 rt;W-l^iriinifiilifemiili1ffHii^^ 
 
SS?''w»ispw 
 
 J THE MASQUERADE 229 
 
 ently led. It was the voice of conscience, which 
 awoke in her, and though often stilled, awoke again 
 and again, especially when, in dreams or waking hours, 
 the images of her good mother, her faithful old 
 teacher, Pere Hilaire, or- even the bloody ghost of 
 Gauthier rose before her mind. 
 
 She could not forget Gauthier's frightful death, 
 which she only heard of long after it occurred; she 
 drowned herself in the waves of intoxicating pleasure, 
 threw herself into the arms of frivolit}', and deadened 
 remorse by the proud feeling of satiated vanity, the love 
 of a king, and the splendor and grandeur of a princess. 
 
 And these terrible thoughts, these horrible visions, 
 recurred to Angeline more than ever in the dismal 
 stronghold of Loches. 
 
 Gladly would she have left it: but the king enjoyed 
 hunting in the neighboring woods so much, that she 
 did not dare to urge his return to Versailles so quickh^ 
 particularly as she herself had been the cause of his 
 leaving it. 
 
 .To-day a masquerade had been arranged. The thought 
 had pleased Louis XIV, inasmuch as being away from 
 Paris and Versailles, he could on such occasions lay 
 aside all ceremon}'. Perhaps the men n rob had still 
 other things in view. 
 
 He willingly agreed to the desire of his lovely fav- 
 orite, with the sole condition; — that the country no- 
 bility, and the well to do inhabitants of the city of 
 Loches, should take a part in it. 
 
-:-'i:iyTsgi.'^_^-^^^^f^^^^:r,;:^-^^i^^^.^ ,--_.■ -.----;■ . ..V ■;■>-.-: ■•■'--^■^^|gp^;«SS^ 
 
 230 ;^ A ROYAL ROBBER 1^ y 
 
 In order not to resign any of his royal dignity, the 
 invitations were given In the name of the Duchesse 
 de Fontanges, His Majesty (so said report) would not 
 attend the festival. I ' ^ 
 
 The evening approached. Two of the immense old 
 halls were prepared to receive the disguised and 
 masked company. One was panneled from floor to 
 ceiling with wood, upon which was carved the staff of 
 Bacchus wreathed with vine garlands, and other de- 
 signs, all glittering with gilding. On the ceiling were 
 beams adorned with exquisitely carved figures, and 
 upborne by winged devils with hideous faces, whose 
 heads served as cornices to support the clumsy mould- 
 ings of this Gothic architecture. The mantel-pieces 
 rested upon the strong shoulders of two caryatides, 
 horrible monsters, such as the bizarre fancy of the 
 architects in the time of Louis XIV produced. Upon 
 the outstretched tongues of these caryatides, as well 
 as on the chandeliers, burned candles of yellow wax, 
 whose pale light feebly illuminated the wide, dusky 
 hall. i 
 
 The other room, which was more richly ornamented 
 than the first and panneled with black and white mar- 
 ble, was decorated with Flanders carpets and rich cur- 
 tains. On the walls, in place of the wood carvings, 
 hung large, finely embroidered tapestries. j 
 
 The musicians were stationed in one of the adjoin- 
 ing apartments. ' j v. 
 
 The halls were now opened, and hundreds of masks 
 
 m^isS&-!ii&3,SS<Ai,:i:^'^ii£fisiriii^,^L^ 
 
~^ .^>*E:i(»°5ay-, 
 
 ':■■/:::''',.''■■] -'~:-r"^,_': THE MASQUERADE ' 231 
 
 pressed in. The grotesque, variegated costumes re- 
 sembled a huge mosaic of human figures combined by 
 some magic spell. ■ 
 
 All the gold, velvet, silk or — with the less wealthy- 
 tinsel, velveteen, taffeta, and other bright materials, 
 which taste, splendor and riches could offer, were lav- 
 ished here. The crowd surged gayly to and fro, talk- 
 ing and laughing, and singing! 
 
 But the king had not returned from the chase, and 
 Angeline would not enter the hall before greeting her 
 royal lover. 
 
 So she sat, somewhat out of humor at the delay, 
 clad in the costume of a Juno, embroidered with gold 
 and precious stones, in one of the old-fashioned chairs 
 of which Loches had so many, and which perhaps 
 Philip the Fair had once occupied. 
 
 Her suite, representing all the residents of Olympus, 
 were in the waiting-room, one person alone stood, mask 
 in hand, a few steps from her chair. It was the Due 
 de St. Aignan, to whom the costume of Mars was as 
 becoming as that of the queen of the gods to Ange- 
 line. An expression of winning courtesy rested as 
 usual on his handsome features — a smile, that appar- 
 ently sought to cheer his lovely companion. 
 
 But the Due did not succeed. Angeline de Fontanges 
 was impatient. The king had not yet come, and she 
 longed to be out of the dreary vaulted halls, which 
 were her residence during her stay in Loches, and 
 away into those in which the music already sounded. 
 
 
f^-'SST' ' . --"^J' -v^^^^snT^sTO^F^P- ^l««iVS'fi?*PS!''»'''!ti.%!«^''«'« 
 
 23-3 A ROYAL ROBBER ' 
 
 Angel inc Iiad hitherto only heard half of St. Aignan*s 
 flatteries. Her little hand toyed with the purple robe 
 ;hat fell lightly from her beautiful shoulders, and in 
 whose wide borders a quantity of precious stones were' 
 artistically embroidered. ; 
 
 "Monsieur le Due," said Angeline, "you always have 
 plenty of stories and anecdotes, —I beg you to tell 
 me one, I am dying of ennui in this gloomy old rat's 
 nest." 
 
 "With pleasure, queen of heaven and beauty," re- 
 plied St. Aignan, bowing, "and yet we can still re- 
 main in the dreary old castle." ! 
 
 "How so?" asked Angeline absently. 
 
 "Because there was once a festival held St Loches, 
 similar to the one given here to-day." 
 
 "Indeed? you make me curious. Who gave it?" 
 
 "Louis XI." 
 
 "Tell me about it!" 
 
 St. Aignan bowed and seated himself, then casting a 
 strange, ardent glance at Angeline, said: "Then you 
 command?" 
 
 "I entreat!" she replied, while a deep blush suffused 
 her face as he met the Due's gaze. There must have 
 been some strange expression in the glance. 
 
 St. Aignan continued: I 
 
 "You know that Charles "VII made the Castle of 
 Loches a royal residence. The monument to the charm- 
 ing Agnes Sorel, the king's favorite, still remains, 
 and is called the *Agnes tower.'" i 
 
 I - . • 
 
^f^ • kTOW?"JlWH|WST'(P^«^?^7^?'^^ ^'- "^««5^ 
 
 THE MASQUERADE 233 
 
 "I know it!" answered the Duchesse de Fontanges. 
 "The canons of the cathedral of Loches sought at 
 different times to gain permission to remove the 
 mausoleum of the beautiful Agnes Sorel from the choir 
 to another part of the church. His Majesty was speak- 
 ing- to me about it only yesterday." 
 
 "It is so large that it interfered with tlie service. 
 But none of the king's predecessors would consent, 
 until Louis XIV gave his permission. And the re- 
 moval took place." 
 
 "But you surely do not intend to tell me about the 
 monument here in Loches?" 
 
 ■ "Certainly not. I will only dedicate memories of 
 love to the goddess of love and b^autyl " said the Due, 
 and again he cast a strange glance at Angeline. 
 
 The jewels at which she was gazing parried it. The 
 Due continued: ' 
 
 "After the death of Charles VII, the Castle of Loches 
 still continued to be a royal residence. But under 
 Louis XI, very few pleasant and cheerful events oc- 
 curred. Still he sometimes came here with his whole 
 court, and then the festivals which were celebrated, 
 such as for example, that of 1465 recalled, though in- 
 terspersed with certain dark shadows, the merry times 
 of former rulers. 
 
 "But never had the bells, the tramp of souliers, and 
 the terrible thunder of the cannon on the castle walls, 
 so excited the people of Loches as on the third of 
 February in the year 1465. The good King Louis XI, 
 
 tfferPftWrfe^fertiifeiiiilitMlSii^ K.::ii^ir:e^i^i^^tl. ■l-kiifii!i^r£&S22 
 

 234 ; A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 who awoke in a particularly pleasant mood,. called his 
 trusty valet Doyat, and said to him: 'Go down to 
 my burghers and peasants, and announce to them my 
 will which is: that every one shall enjoy himself to- 
 day as much as he can. ' This was more than was nec- 
 essary to put a people thirsty for enjoyment into mo- 
 tion. There was a cry, a shout of rejoicing, that al- 
 most shook the vaults of heaven, and exulting and 
 cheering, they set to work without loss of time. They 
 brought out their money-boxes and took the savings 
 of a whole year now that carnival had come for 
 once, and what was seldom enough under Louis XI, a 
 time for rejoicing, it must be celebrated with baccha- 
 nalian revels, masks, and mysteries. Rich and poor, 
 nobles and peasants, troubadours and scholars, vied 
 with each other in obeying the king's command." ; 
 
 "And that took place here, and under the gloomy 
 Louis XI?" asked Angeline in astonishment. 
 - "Yes," replied St. Aignan, "does it surprise you, fair 
 lady? Have we not a similar festival to-day, and does 
 not the grave Louis XIV, who is so jealous of his 
 royal dignity, give it?" t 
 
 "At my request!" said the Duchesse, "and the king 
 will not be present." 1 
 
 'Who can be sure of that?" said St. Aignan. "Per- 
 haps Louis XI told the charming Countess de Sassen- 
 ages, the beloved of his heart, the same thing." ; 
 The duchesse listened eagerly. ' 
 
 "Tell me more," she entreated, but her hand let the 
 
 
f^Sg«ST?S^=^?5»i°=^J^^^-"»K^«2P''!v='?^ ^ ■■ "^i 
 
 "- ' THE MASQUERADE 235 
 
 purple robe fall, and her attention was evidently fixed 
 upon the narrator. The Due continued: 
 
 "So the whole day was passed in mummeries, in 
 plays, pranks, moral representations. In the evening 
 there was to be a ball at court, at which the beauti- 
 ful Countess Elfride de Sassenages, the influential 
 friend and favorite of the- king, presided. But before 
 this the following incident took place. 
 
 "The clock in the castle tower had just struck nine. 
 Louis XI was lying comfortably on his long couch of 
 state, when his trusty barber entered the room with the 
 decorated bowl and Spanish soap. 
 
 "'Come, hurry,' said the king sternly, 'I wish to 
 witness the pleasures of my beloved and faithful 
 people.' 
 
 "The favorite, who was handling the razor, well 
 knew his royal master's moods, and also the favorable 
 moments when he might dare to ask a favor, so he 
 went quickly to work to fulfill the duties of his office. 
 After he had sufficiently soaped the king's thin face, 
 he no longer feared to be interrupted in his petitions, 
 and said timidly: 
 
 "'Sire, your majesty has already had the goodness 
 to replace the nickname of Olivier le Diable by that of 
 Olivier le Daim. Now if I might venture — ' 
 
 " 'Hm, hm,' growled the king again, shaking his 
 head, but he did not dare to open his lips for fear of 
 getting a mouthful of soap suds. 
 
 "'If I might venture,' continued Olivier leDaim, 'I 
 
 ^i1tiSgf^':fi%-i-'Hirr\r<v1'-ntr-t 
 
-^^,'-'-' '' ■ ' '-':?ff''«»^''^^?'3^r^sipai^«»""ji!'^g»S8'J*«*?^'»^ 
 
 236 • A kovAL roi;ber 
 
 would beg your majesty to continue your favors towards 
 nie ' ' ■ i " 
 
 "Louis XI cast an angry glance at him. ' 
 
 "But Olivier, without allowing himself to be discon- 
 certed, seized His Majesty's nose with his left hand 
 and with the right laid the razor on the king's upper- 
 lip, saying quietly: 'Sire, the Conite de Meulan has 
 just died without heirs: the title is vacant — ' 
 
 "'Plague take the oppressor!' cried Louis, as he 
 freed himself from liis barber's hands, 'will you stop 
 tormenting me?' '\ 
 
 "'The lands of Meulan are without an}' owner, re- 
 peated Olivier le Diiim, while he put the razor to the 
 royal throat; 'they would surely be in proper hands if 
 they came into the possession of a person who stands 
 in such close relation to your Majesty, and into whose 
 care the most precious thing is daily intrusted, name- 
 ly, this illustrious head." 
 
 "These words made tlie king tremble; the barber 
 noticed it, and passed tlie razor over the king's face 
 as he continued: 'Sire, I dare to give the striking 
 proof of being the most trusty subject of France in the 
 service of your majesty. To prove this to you I am 
 ready at any moment to sacrifice my life; but as a re- 
 ward for my faithfulness and devotion I must humbly 
 entreat your majesty to grant the favor I have just 
 asked.' 
 
 "The king's chin was smooth, and the barber threw 
 
 Jiimseif at Plis Majesty's feet. -. 
 
 " . ■ ■ - ' ! . 
 
 ibiiii:^:,:^^:^ lip,-|jj«4jrfi(aSa^i:^aii,s^ i; ~a^^v..-£aa v..:Sa..i.>:...^.aig^^».a;^i;,aife^iaaaft^ 
 
THE MASQUERADE 237 
 
 "Louis XI stood before the crafty and audacious 
 barber with flashing eyes, and exclaimed: 
 
 "'What does tliis mean, you r?sca! 5'ou deserve 
 as punishment for this presumption, to be given over 
 to my godfather Tristan and caressed by mj' little god- 
 daughter!''' But no, rascal, I -vvill not do that, for I 
 need your services. So, I make you Comte de Meulan. ' 
 
 "'I most humbly thank you, Sire.' 
 
 '"Yes, but I have one condition™' 
 
 "'Speak, Sire, I am your most obedient servant.' 
 
 "'You are no longer the subject of conversation.' 
 
 '"Who then?' 
 
 "'Listen, knave, come here! you know the pretty 
 peasant maiden who lives at Jacobs gate?' 
 
 "'With the beautiful, blue eyes, noble bearing, and 
 little velvet hands?' 
 
 " 'The very one. ' 
 
 "'It is sufficient, Sire; I understand your Majest}'.* 
 
 " 'See that vou do not act on your owm account, 3'ou 
 rascal!' 
 
 "'Oh! Sire, I am too well taugh to take precedence 
 of my master.' 
 
 "'What do you sa}^?' cried Louis XI, as he looked 
 sharply at him. 
 
 "'I repeat my eternal devotion to j^our Majesty.' 
 
 "'One word more, fool of a count! You will see 
 that the halls and large galleries are arranged for to- 
 
 * To be tortured by my executioners. Louis XI in his royal gibberish called 
 the executors of his revenge "My little god-daughter little darling," etc.. 
 
 i«ljjt»to»^.a.-aA>^Ja,.--.;ta»ri'a^a^:v.vjj&.^ja;:A^aiaa.Kae» ;■' r'-'i'il'rrT'-'illt-' 
 
238 A ROYAL ROBBER . ' --. t V - 
 
 night's ball; Madame de Sassenages and the whole 
 
 court will dance there this evening.' I. 
 
 '"Very well, Sire.' i 
 
 "'That is not all. Do not forget to bring the young 
 girl, whom I entrust to your care, here in disguise. Go 
 now. and fulfill your duties well and quickly.' ' : - : 
 
 "Olivier le Daim bowed almost to the ground, and 
 retired. 
 
 "The evening began with dancing and play; free 
 conversation, and merry questions and answers, were - 
 
 bandied to and fro; people crowded and jostled each 
 other, and the gay throng wandered from hall to hall 
 and room to room. • ! 
 
 "In the meantime, two masks dressed as monks had 
 withdrawn from the merry crowd into a window cor- 
 ner, and wliile looking at the surging multitude, amused 
 themselves by a whispered conversation. j '^-■■^' 
 
 "So you have fulfilled my commands?* ; 
 
 "'I liHv'e seen and spoken to her.' I , 
 
 "'Are you sure she will come?* ! 
 
 "'I am certain of it.* I 
 
 "'What is her costume?' > ! ^ :i'' 
 
 " 'She is dressed as a fisher-maiden, wears a green 
 silk net, a black taffeta petticoat, and a little blue 
 velvet cap with silver acorns.* ]' 
 
 "'Very well What is the password?* I ' . 
 
 ''Love and faithfulness.' - I 
 
 "'All rightl now go! stop, one word more, the Comte 
 de iManlevrier will not come . . . you answer for it?* 
 
 -*y 
 
 fifr-ii-feit-Tifff^l^ 
 
^'f-=!7^?'fS^^!f!>^ .*-*?''* 
 
 THE MASQUERADE 239 
 
 " 'Most devotedly— * 
 
 "'Say nothing about devotion, titles, and respect, 
 you fool! Would you betray me? Speak plainly and 
 briefly.' . 
 
 " 'Well, I have already told you that you wear the 
 count's costume . . . she will take you for him.' 
 
 '"Then she loves him very much?' 
 
 "'She is infatuated with him'.' 
 
 "'And she is very beautiful?' - 
 
 "Beautiful as an angel! Ah! you have good taste!' 
 
 "'Y6ung?' 
 
 "'Scarcely eighteen.* 
 
 "'Go, devil, go! You will send me to eternal dam- 
 nation! How many paternosters must I say for this!' 
 
 "One of the monks withdrew and disappeared in the 
 crowd. 
 
 "Ten minutes later, two masks left the ball-room, 
 and after hastening up a pair of stairs, reached a small 
 apartment which looked like that of a page or valet, 
 and was certainly the sm.allest and most solitary in the 
 whole castle. The two masks immediately sat down 
 upon a stuffed bench, and one of them said: - 
 
 " 'The Comte de Meulan has surely piromised you to 
 be silent, Messire?' 
 
 "'On his soul, my fair one.* 
 
 " 'Why do you disguise your voice?' 
 
 "'Prudence requires it.' 
 
 "'In so secret a place?' • ' 
 
 '" 'Have we not a password?* 
 

 240 A POYAl. RORBER 
 
 "'Certainly, it is 'love and faithfulness.* ' 
 
 "The monk and fisher-maiden now drew nearer, and 
 conversed in low tones. Time passed: the clock in 
 ihe^ castle tower would soon strike the hour of mid- 
 night, and the lovers still lingered . . . the beautiful 
 iisher-girl noticed it and said entreatingly : 'But why 
 do we kec]> on our masks, and disguise our voices? Do 
 you fear that any one will surprise us in this lonely 
 room?' 
 
 "'I do not fear it; but still, on sucli a night as this, 
 another pair of lovers might be concealed In a neigh- 
 boring apartment.' 
 
 "'Ah! it Is pleasant to see the face we love and hear 
 the voice that moves our heart.' 
 
 "'Do you love me so fondly?' 
 
 "'Can you doubt it, after the proof I have given 
 von?' 
 
 "'Oh! no, my angel, my little rogue, I do no,t doubt 
 It ii: the least.' 
 
 "'If I take off my mask, if I appear before you as I 
 am, will you not do the same?' 
 
 "'Yes,' replied the monk 'Can I refuse you any 
 thing fair one.' ^- : ♦ 
 
 " 'Gallant as ever, Monseigneur, I recognize you 
 tliere. ' : - 
 
 '"Well, dearest, why do you hesitate?' , i 
 
 "'Ah! monsieur, I would fain see your face. Grant 
 me this request; let us unmask at the same time.* 
 
 "Both removed their masks. ! 
 
 
S««?^>7^?-i;^'S 
 
 . THE MASQUERADE 24I 
 
 'At this moment, the large lamp, whose oil was 
 nearly exhausted, sent out one last bright ray before 
 expiring. 'The king!' 'Treachery!' Instantly echoed 
 from the lips of both. 
 
 "The mask disguised as a monk was Louis XI; the 
 fisher-maiden, Madame de Sassenages, the king's mis- 
 tress. 
 
 " 'Madame Elfride de Sassenages,' cried Louis, 'I 
 did not expect such a meeting.' 
 
 "The comtesse thought it best to faint, and Louis Xf 
 groped his way down the stairs, murmuring: 'That 
 rascal of an Olivier has played me a bad joke. But 
 no matter. My little peasant girl at Jacob's gate shall 
 not be forgotten! and le Comte de Manlevrier shall 
 learn that it is unwise to hunt upon the royal pre- 
 serves.' 
 
 "A month had passed by. Louis XI still occupied 
 the Castle of Loches making use of his maxim 'he 
 who cannot dissemble, cannot rule.' He had omitted 
 no effort to conceal his bad hum.or and deep displeasure. 
 
 The Comtesse de Sassenages again appeared at court 
 and was treated with the same consideration and re- 
 spect as before. Her royal lover even affected a greater 
 admiration for her. If he spoke to her, the most " 
 friendly smile played upon his lips, while in his heart 
 he cherished the deepest hatred towards her. One 
 evening the arrival of the Comte de Manlevrier was 
 announced. The face of Louis XI suddenly shone as 
 
 if with unfeigned delight. He advanced a few steps 
 16 Robber 
 
 feiiS#[f;#Hl^'rT-i«rT^#«rSaa^ ir;^iafia?rV-'S^-";''----r'--"'v-'^^1^ 
 
-X - - - ; - . . _.-'v 
 
 : 4 .- 
 
 I- 
 
 242 A POVAI KORBFR 
 
 ... I . - 
 
 towards thecomte. and offered him his dry, bony hand. 
 After the audience was at an end, the comte rose and 
 noticed that, accompanied by the king, he was led 
 back through another passage than the one by which 
 he had come. On reaching the threshold of the last 
 door he turned and bowed low; the crafty monarch, 
 following him with his eyes, said: 'May God take you 
 under His care and the saints ever be with you, Mon- 
 seigneur. ' 
 
 "At this moment the f^oor opened, and the unfortu- 
 nate nobleman, with a fearful shriek, disappeared in 
 a deep, bottomless abyss. 
 
 "Louis XI went back to his room, laughing scorn 
 fully, and crossed himself. ? 
 
 "'Fortunately,' he muttered between his teeth, 'the 
 trap door worked well, and the donjon cannot speak.* 
 
 "A year later, the report was circulated that the 
 Comte de Manlevrier, Lord Seneschal of Normandy, had 
 perished in Sicily in the service of the Ducd'Anjou — " 
 
 St. Aignan paused and rose. The trampling of many ■■% 
 horses announced the arrival of the king. 
 
 The duchesse, too, hastily started up, looking some- 
 what pale and disturbed. She made a sign for her suite 
 to approach. i 
 
 "And what does the story mean?" she whispered to 
 the Due. ; 
 
 "It is a fact in history,*' said the Due. 
 
 "But has it no reference to anything?" asked Ange- 
 line quickly. I : 
 
 fe-j^^i.^ii^ii^teisifaaMafesia.a 
 
THE MASQUERADE 243 
 
 "Not exactly! There are still pretty peasant girls 
 at Loches, still loving cavaliers, and also, still trap 
 doors! Use caution, divine, beautiful being, caution 
 in all things!" 
 
 At this moment the doors opened and Louis XIV 
 entered. All present bowed low; but the king ap- 
 proached Angeline, who hastened towards him, and 
 with a light bend of the head, took her hand and kissed 
 .it. 
 
 "Yes, yes," said he, gazing at the enchantingly 
 beautiful figure of his mistress with delight. "You are 
 a worthy queen of Olympus, Jupiter has not chosen 
 ill. The world will envy him; but they are awaiting 
 you. Go, madame la duchesse, the evening which 
 I cannot pass at your side will be a sad one." 
 
 Angeline would have answered, but the king waved 
 a farewell to herself and her train. She bowed low, 
 the others followed her example, and all turned to 
 leave the duchesse's apartments. 
 
 At the same moment the king touched St. Aignan. 
 
 "Is all prepared?" he whispered. 
 _ "Everything, Sire!" 
 
 "The blue domino?" 
 
 "The blue domino with the light yellow cross." 
 
 " Very well!" 
 
 No one had noticed the king's whisper. He now 
 quickly left the room by another door, followed by his 
 attendants. St. Aignan and the rest of the suite put 
 on their masks. The duchesse herself scorned to cover 
 
 
j^e5y«-^3:^^ -~ r -^^^^^^-sf r^-«f!=^.7Kwr?^w^:^^s|pra5^|«B|j^t;:5J^^ 
 
 '^'-^i^^'W^ 
 
 244 A ROYAL ROBBER ! ■ 
 
 her face. The thought of concealing her radiant beauty 
 by a mask was too painful to her. i 
 
 A flourish of trumpets resounded through the room. 
 Marie Angeline, the beautiful, proud hostess, Juno, the 
 enchanting queen of heaven, entered, followed by all 
 the gods and goddesses of Olympus. 
 
 The ball was now officially opened, the mad 
 gayety increased. The sweetest flatteries, the most 
 exaggerated compliments greeted Angeline on every 
 side. But she did not understand how to separate the 
 exaggeration — which often concealed a cutting sar- 
 casm — from the true recognition of her beauty. She 
 did not have enough quickness for that; her vanit}' 
 too, since her exaltation to the rank of duchesse and 
 her stay at court, was so unbounded that no flattery 
 was too gross for her. 
 
 But there were two masks that disturbed Angeline 
 incomprehensibl}'; a white figure and a monk, who, 
 alwa}s inseparable, were ever in her path. 
 
 It was evident that they were trying to approach the 
 duchesse. 
 
 But Angeline evaded them; she did not exactly 
 know why. i . 
 
 Ah! yonder came a little procession of masks! 
 how fortunate, it separated the duchesse from her 
 ghostly followers. ^ ' 
 
 It was the seven deadly sins and the seven virtues. 
 
 The sins threw themselves in the dust before her, 
 the seven virtues led her in triumph to a costly arm- 
 
 i:"^--iij-C*t'^:"l:i'-te-'iir^-.-V.-3iV .•.. ■•:.,'."i- ■■■.■■.. ,^..t, .41- ■--.■. ^ ■iiS2yA-iZ-Zi^':.-:^:~^--^^.:j^J^':itS!li^St^^ 
 
■ ^fs5?P'3^:^ffi:->P;<S'2^ 
 
 rr,^!r^-j«r__ ra-S^ -r; - ^-^^ 
 
 ^:-V' - ' ■ ,- THE MASQUERADE 245 
 
 chair standing ready for her. Then the lourteen masks 
 grouped themselves before her and performed a mimic 
 dance, in which the virtues struggled witti the sins, 
 came to blows, and after ever increasing violence of 
 gesture the virtues were victorious, overthrew the sins, 
 and sank upon their knees in a beautiful group, wor- 
 shiping the duchesse. 
 
 A dense crowd surrounded her arm chair and "the 
 disguised dancers; but hundreds of masks, who, on ac- 
 count of the throng; could not approach and could see 
 nothing, still surged in the halls. 
 
 Two blue dominoes with light 5^eIlow crosses met. 
 
 It was a gentleman and lady. A brief v/hisper — and 
 they disappeared. 
 
 The virtues, too, had left the hall, only the sins re- 
 mained, and were now uttering jests which were not 
 always very refined, and often inflicted deep wounds. 
 
 Angeline de Fontanges hastily rose. The mysterious, 
 white, ghost-like figure with the monk behind him, 
 again approached her. 
 
 A shudder ran through her limbs, the white garment 
 involuntarily reminded her of a shroud. And, it was 
 horrible, the figure awoke a memory! 
 
 "Queen of beauty and of "heaven," whispered a tall 
 Spaniard, clothed in black, upon whose breast and 
 cap glittered a quantity of great diamonds, "queen of 
 beauty and of heaven, let me at last, in this hour, lay 
 my heart at your feet." 
 
 Angeline started. Who dared to address such words 
 to her, the king's mistress? 
 
 i^iiSfe4'^J^;i^.-.Y-i.^-,i&)' .v^-j^,^^;.^^^^ 
 
'^«i.~!' "»!*•' » _-r^ 
 
 246 . A ROVAL ROBBER 
 
 If another ear should hear these words, if they 
 should be conveyed to the king, Louis had spies every- 
 where. I 
 
 Angeline looked around her in horror; but the deadly 
 sins were of some use they were making such a noise 
 that one could not hear his own voice, ' ' 
 
 "Angeline!" said the mask, "child of the gods, you 
 know I lo\ e you madl}'. " - 
 
 "Who dares?" 
 
 "Who dares to speak to you thus," continued the 
 mask, "there can be but one at court, except the 
 king, and I hope, sweet lady, your heart guesses 
 his name!" ; 
 
 "St. Aignan!" whispered Angeline in horror, while 
 a deep flush crimsoned her face. 
 
 "It is I." i 
 
 "And you dare — ." | 
 
 "Angeline! have I dared too much, has my heart 
 deceived me?" 
 
 "Merciful God," whispered the duchesse. "We shall 
 be observed." 
 
 "Only one word, beloved,, one word," 
 
 "In heaven's name, remember Comte de Manlevrier, 
 of whom you. have just told me." 
 
 "My fate lies in your hands, Angeline Betray me, 
 and I shall — " : 
 
 "Monsieur le Due! and you could think — " 
 
 "Let me think but one thing, Angeline, only one 
 that I find acceptance." , i 
 
 MiisM^^k^iMS..d,iaBM!iiiS!Sii£i}t;i>i^ 
 
THE MASQUERADE 247 
 
 "And should I be so ungrateful as to betray the one 
 who loves me so tenderly, who has raised me to his 
 own height?" 
 
 "Remember Louis XI and Olivier le Daim!" 
 
 "You traduce him, Monsieur le Due." 
 
 "And it I produce proofs?" 
 
 "No, no, it is impossible," 
 
 A fortune-teller, covered with precious stones, ap- 
 proached. 
 
 "Well, my friend," said she, ''you have taken the 
 role of a proud Spaniard. Take heed that you do not 
 act out of character; here, as well as in Spain, peo- 
 ple are confoundedly jealous." 
 
 "Calm yourself, my pretty fortune-teller," answered 
 the Spaniard. "I play no role, but only with them." 
 
 "God knows that," said the fortune-teller, laughing, 
 "with rolls of money." 
 
 "They are the pleasantest and most acceptable." 
 
 'And the ones with which you are most familiar." 
 
 "Yes, unfortunately, for they all run off before I am 
 aware of it." 
 
 "Because you understand so well how to go through 
 them." 
 
 "I'm so much the more skillful in getting them." 
 
 "That is surely no heavy task." 
 
 "Heavy when they are light, and light when they are 
 heavy. " 
 
 "You attempt the lightest and heaviest, and succeed 
 in both." 
 
 
248 A ROYAL ROBBER j ' • 
 
 ''Because I know their insignificant contents." 
 
 "Which may yet, precisely because they are insig> 
 nificant, be very painful to you." 
 
 "My God, I love secret worth." 
 
 "But just now }'ou seem to be upon a wrong path." 
 
 "Take care, take care," cautioned the Spaniard, "do 
 not burn your fingers. You think to take up a glow- 
 worm and may perhaps seize a fiery coal. What con- 
 cerns me I recommend to the favor of the noble queen 
 of Olympus."" 
 
 "That is a pretty role also!" said the fortune-teller. 
 "Pity that it will be as short as it is brilliant." 
 
 The duchesse had heard nothing. She was thinking 
 of what the Spaniard had just said. 
 
 St. Aignan started. 
 
 "Was that a prophecy?" he asked the fortune-teller. 
 
 "I do not depart from my role, " answered the latter. 
 "Take heed, noble Spaniard, for you measure your 
 actions according to your own advantage." With 
 these words, the mask mingled among the crowd. 
 
 "And you could give me proofs of the king's un- 
 faitiifulnessl" whispered the duchesse, in unmistak- 
 able agitation. 
 
 "1 have proofs, yes.'* ! 
 
 "And what are they?" i 
 
 "In the Agnes Tower — '' 
 
 "What have you to do with it? I wish to hear noth- 
 ing about it. There are ghosts there. The old ghost 
 of Loches, a white figure, has been seen there tor 
 three days." 
 
 -■ * • 
 
 'WimiiJfeife'UTir-iif'irirttiiifiyfi^ifi-i 
 
m'W'ff^^m^^^^w^ 
 
 " J- . THE MASQUERADE 249 
 
 At this moment, a half-smothered scream escaped 
 the duchesse's lips, the white figure that had haunted 
 her all the evening stood close beside her. 
 
 It raised its finger threatening!}' — the hand, too, was 
 white as marble. 
 
 "What is it?" asked the Spaniard. 
 
 "Thaf mysterious mask," replied the duchesse, 
 pressing both hands to her throbbing heart, for out 
 of the holes In the white mask sparkled a pair of eyes 
 which she knew— which she had known — but which 
 now — 
 
 "Cease this miserable joke," said the Spaniard, step- 
 ing between the mask and the duchesse, "who seeks 
 to frighten ladies at such a ball?" 
 
 The figure stood motionless; but his eyes sparkled 
 horribly in their deep eye-sockets. 
 
 The followers of Juno had pressed forward and sur- 
 rounded her v/ith a glittering circle. The Spaniard 
 had disappeared — and ghost and monk' also vanished. 
 
 The duchesse sank into her chair exhausted. 
 
 She asked for some refreshment, and her attendants 
 offered a beautiful gold -beaker 
 
 The musicians now commenced anew piece. It was 
 a march. The doors opened, and a long row of dwarfs 
 with monstrous heads, appeared. But in the midst of 
 the procession was a lovely fairy, surrounded by elfin 
 maidens, the most beautiful of whom, preceding the 
 fairy, bore some sparkling object on a purple cushion. 
 
 Slowly, wagging their thick, ugly heads, the dwarfs 
 
 ms^i^^siiisMi^^ 
 
K*9^'w»'^^?=qr¥S%r'^?^^ V*^Vr^f^^;^^^^ 
 
 250 A ROYAL ROBBER . - 
 
 and gnomes approached. Amid the cheers of the mul- 
 titude, the procession made its way round the great 
 hall, till it paused before the hostess in such a posi- 
 tion that the lovely fairy and her elfin maidens were 
 directl}' opposite the duchesse. ' 
 
 The music ceased and the fairy advanced with her 
 elfin train. It was a very pretty girl, the daughter of 
 a prominent official in the city of Loches; and lovely 
 as herself were the verses she now repeated, and which, 
 gracefully composed, eulogized Angeline's beauty. To 
 crown this beauty she had come with her gnomes 
 and elves from the depths of the woods and mountains 
 summoned by the city of Loches and its inhabi- 
 tants; for the city of Loches, like Orleans, Blois, 
 Tours, and Nantes, wished to offer the favorite of Louis 
 XIV a token of their respect. ! ' 
 
 The lovely fairy motioned to the little elves with 
 the purple cushion, who knelt before Angeline de Fon- 
 tanges, but the fairy herself took the splendid diadem 
 with the ducal coronet — the gift of the city of Loches 
 — and amid the flourish of trumpets and enthusiastic 
 cheers of the guests, placed it on Angelme's head. 
 
 But the beautiful duchesse was paler than usual, 
 and could only express her thanks in a low, almost 
 tremulous voice. The trumpets again resounded and 
 amid shouts and merry nods from the dwarfs, the pro-' 
 cession withdrew. | : 
 
 Ah! what different thoughts assailed Angeline at this 
 moment; the king faithless to her? if it should be 
 
 ^jife:£ni..aatw1..^:€^>.a£<aaa»i,^Be^gc-.-,.gtoa:i^^ 
 
P^Bg'-???''?§''y^g-"3Bp^g'j«^ggg 
 
 ,_ "'■^:- " :'':' THE MASQUERADE 25I ■ 
 
 true! Jealous}' began to burn and St. Aignan's love. 
 
 Oh! he was handsome, his image had long secretly 
 
 reigned in her heart. If the king were faithless to 
 
 her! 
 
 .. A beggar approached and implored alms. 
 
 - Angeline was so lost in thought that, for a moment, 
 she forgot she was at a masquerade. Hearing only 
 half of the beggar's request, she tore one of the eme- 
 rald buttons from her dress, and threw it into his hat. 
 
 , "Thanks! thanks!" whispered the latter, his voice 
 trembling with joy, "green is the color of hope. 
 But, sweet queen of beauty, when will hope be fol- 
 lowed by fulfillment?" 
 
 Angeline trembled: it was St. Aignan again. 
 
 "Go!" said she in a suppressed voice, "go, old man, 
 you make me a beggar, for you have roused causeless 
 jealousy in my heart." v 
 
 "It is sad and dangerous to be blind," said the beg- 
 gar, "therefore I opened your eyes." 
 
 "And yet it is often better to be blind than to see." 
 
 - "It is best to see — and act prudently." 
 - "And suppose one sees an abyss?" 
 
 "Then one can avoid it because they see it. Blind 
 we should fall helplesly in." 
 
 "Everything is at stake." 
 
 "Nothing at all, if one is wise. Let the spoiled 
 child have the toy with which he amuses himself for a 
 moment ;but revenge yourself in secret, divine Angeline. 
 I->offer yon my hand and a heart full of ardent love." 
 

 252 A ROYAL ROBBER 1 
 
 ■ ' ' '■ • 
 
 '■ Memento mori!" said a deep, stern voice. • 
 
 Angelina and St. Aignan started. i 
 
 Again the white figure stood before them, and be- 
 hind him the monk, who had uttered the words. 
 
 Angeline was voiceless, the eyes of the white figure 
 glowed like coals in their deep sockets,and his glance 
 rested piercingly upon the duchesse. 
 
 "This is insufferable," cried the beggar, putting 
 his hand to his side, as if he wore a sword. 
 
 The figure raised its finger slowly and threateningly. 
 
 "MVho are you?" asked the duchesse in a trembling 
 voice. V 
 
 "We are, what we seem," replied the monk gravely. 
 
 "I command you to withdraw!" ordered the hostess, 
 gasping for breath. 
 
 "When you have heard our message," said the monk 
 with immovable composure. 
 
 "I will hear nothing!" cried the duchesse. "Go! 
 or I will command the guards." ; 
 
 "Command yourself and your passions," replied the 
 monk. 
 
 Crowds of people now surrounded the group. 
 
 "That is going too far!" cried the beggar. "Off 
 with your masks! . . . Ho! guard!" and before the 
 white figure was aware of it, his mask was torn 
 away. ^ 
 
 A death's head was beneath. 
 
 A loud scream rang from every lip. ! 
 
 "The ghost of the Agnes Tower! " cried hundreds 
 
 fli ~i fa' f^j iirr-ffii>iffffiSiti»ffii>i r'-miliSii4i^aiiai&-uSr^aftlrSB^^ 
 
tHE MASQUERADE 153 
 
 of voices. Every one drew back even the guards. 
 - The trembling duchesse clung to the chair. 
 
 The beggar alone did not shrink. 
 
 "Away with this foolery!" he cried "off with this 
 second mask!" and he grasped at it. 
 
 But a heavy blow dashed his arm aside. The hand 
 of the white figure was slowl}' raised. "You have for- 
 saken God," the voice sounded as if it came from the 
 depths of the grave, '/therefore God has forsaken 3'ou. 
 Woe betide you! If you do not repent, you will go 
 down to eternal night." At the same moment the 
 white, ghostl}' figure removed the death's head; the 
 pale, livid face of one newly risen from the grave ap- 
 peared. 
 
 A still louder shriek rang on the air, and the Duch- 
 esse sank fainting into the arms of the terrified ladies 
 who surrounded her. 
 
 The beggar, too, uttered a cry of surprise and hor- 
 ror, and started back as if from a spirit. 
 
 "The ghost of the Agnes Tower!" again echoed on 
 all sides, and the horror-stricken crowd recoiled. 
 
 But the white figure and the monk walked slowly to 
 the door and disappeared. 
 
 .=N. ■■ 
 
 H''gr--''aS#'-'^V'l?¥;VTii^ii4>f£ii%W^ME^^ 
 
^■«« '"teC *' ^ ^ 
 
 -.»iRs:pjt^g^ip^p5?^^^^>?5SE!^yy^ 
 
 ^!^=5^- 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE POLITICS OF FRANCE. 
 
 Louis XIV was pacing up and down his room with 
 rapid strides. It was a gloomy apartment, like all the 
 chambers in Loches, and even its furniture was some- 
 what stiff and somber. Everything still remained just 
 as it had been in the time of Louis XL Even the 
 private altar of that crowned hypocrite was not want- 
 ing. It occupied one of the dark corners, and was 
 surmounted by a massive silver crucifix. . I , 
 
 Louis XIV had not yet prayed before it. He even 
 averted his eyes whenever his quick steps brought 
 him near it, not from want of religious feeling, for he 
 frequently crossed himself, but because very different 
 thoughts occupied his mind. 
 
 It was secretly rumored, and the report had reached 
 the king's ears, that the ghost of the Agnes Tower 
 was the spirit of Louis XI, who had perpetrated fear- 
 ful crimes there. And in fact, that very night as he 
 left the Agnes Tower, he had seen with his own eyes 
 a white figure in one of the long passages leading to 
 the donjon. But the strangest thing of all was, that 
 it had apppeared in the great hall in the midst of the 
 masquerade, and so frightened the Duchesse de Fon- 
 
 854 1 " -•:: 
 
 mi^sm£ss 
 
 iiiMM^ii^£m^e!it.-i: 
 
 '^i^i^tS^rii 
 
- , THE POLiriCS OF FRANCfc 255 
 
 tanges, that she had been taken to her room insensible. 
 
 Louis XIV was not indifferent to the affair. The 
 rememberance of the fearful deeds which the walls of 
 J Loches had witnessed, weighed upon his, mind and 
 spoiled the pleasure of his stay. The determination to 
 leave Leches as soon as possible was settled, but a 
 . secret council had been appointed for this morning, to 
 attend which the Marquis de Louvois and Colbert de 
 Croissi had arrived the night before. Captain de Torcy, 
 '.who was on guard before the room, had been ordered 
 'to admit the ministers without further announcement. 
 Matters of the greatest importance, and which required 
 the utmost despatch were to be discussed. Ambassa- 
 dors from Prince Tokoli who, in connection with 
 France, led the insurgent Hungarians against Austria, 
 as well as deputies from the Turks had arrived, and 
 must be answered as quickly as possible. 
 
 The ministers entered, and the king sat down with 
 his hat on his head. The Marquis de Louvois and 
 Colbert de Croissi, bowing reverentially, stood opposite, 
 separated from His Majesty by the huge, round table. 
 
 The consultation began. Oh ! walls of Loches, into 
 what a prefidious plot were you here initiated. 
 
 With what crafty skill Louis XIV and Louvois had 
 ensnared Leopold I, the German Emperor. Occupied 
 and harassed by the Hungarians and Turks, the mo- 
 ment was approaching when the emperor would be 
 like a man bound hand and foot. 
 
 Oh long desired moment for Loais and Louvois when 
 
" "'(TpaBBMPpj»''!»'i""S»-«S'''^ll*SF7«^ 
 
 256 A ROYAL ROBBER ' ' 
 
 • .1 - . ; ■" <u.' '. 
 
 you come then will be the proper time to take 
 Strassburg, with the whole left upper bank to the 
 Rhine. ' 
 
 That was the old policy of Richelieu and Mazarin. 
 And the wise crafty, ambitious Louvois had adopted 
 it. ! 
 
 The royal ante-chamber remained the only field for 
 parties, and the one aim was the gracious glance of the 
 monarch. Despotism had taken up its abode in France, 
 and revolution dug its mines. In the meantime Maz- 
 arin toiled unceasingly for the foreign greatness of his 
 country, concluded the peace at Ndnster, and the 
 treaty of peace with Spain, which brought both coun- 
 tries rich profits. When he died he surrendered to 
 Louis XIV, then only twenty-three, a peaceful, victo- 
 rious kingdom, which bore in itself strength for great 
 things. 
 
 But Louis' penetrating glance knew how to choose 
 the right man to take possession of the inheritance of 
 Richelieu and Mftzarin. This was Francois Michel le 
 Tellier, Marquis de Louvois, whom Mazarin had him- 
 self recommended upon his death-bed. And Louvois, 
 as we know, entered upon this inheritance v/ith a firm 
 hand. The old plans for conquest and extension were 
 continued, and to the horror of all Europe, fell upon 
 Alsace. * 
 
 1 
 
 Now, as we have said, nothing remained to be seized 
 except Strassburg, and the last part of the left, upper 
 bank of the Rhine. Strassburg and the left bank of 
 
 ^j^;,&aii^&akai^^i«ife^i«lifrii|^ 
 
|gjpaH^M*"*^»^'ftJr^ — .^ ,;;gj^«yi. .,^,«jj,.^j,-jjf^T5j^3j^j|,,35,jj«.j,njp«:- ^•— ev- T<7^j:''T-=_' ";^ •-'i; -/Jb 
 
 THE POLITICS OF FRANCE 2^7 
 
 the Rhine must belong to France. What cared Louis 
 XIV and Louvois, though wars arose, rivers of blood 
 .flowed, countries were ravaged, ,and whole nations 
 made miserable, if only their object were attained. 
 
 So the "Most Christian King," Louis XIV of France, 
 formed an alliance not only with the rebellious Hun- 
 garians, at whose head was Prince Tokoli, but also — 
 to his and Louvois' eternal shame, be it said, — with 
 the sworn enemies of Christianity and all civilization 
 — the Turks. , 
 
 The fearful and bloody war which at that 
 time threatened the Austrian dominions, and even 
 Vienna Itself, was in a great measure the result of 
 French influence at the Porte. Louis XIV, since 
 1673, had kept an ambassador in Constantinople, whose 
 duty it was to maintain a secret connection between 
 France and the powerful Prince of the Crescent. 
 
 Hungary and the Turks were thus Incited to make 
 war upon Austria and German}^ from the east so that 
 France might tear one piece after another from Ger- 
 many in the west. 
 
 The French Interests in Hungarian affairs was rep- 
 resented by Christopher d'Allanday, Marquis de Boh am 
 The latter had led the Poles to Hungary, renewed 
 the alliance between the insurgents and the French 
 ministers and distributed the monies received from 
 Paris. And when at last the Turks wished to attack 
 the emperor again and support the Insurgents with an 
 
 Immense army, the marquis forwarded the rebel' s letters 
 I J Robber 
 
 i»E£^!%^)j&ki»«^^S^^^»>^^.,S^^Si^»^'^li&.i^i£:^a^G^Eel^s^^ 
 
258 - A ROYAL ROBBER V j 
 
 to the French cabinet. Moreover, this was done in a 
 very treacherous manner, which violated the rights of 
 nations. The French government sent the letters and 
 remittances of money for the insurgents to the French 
 secretary of legation at Vienna, from whence the}' 
 reached the marquis, and through him, the insurgents. 
 The affair was discovered, and the French secretary 
 of legation imprisoned, whereupon Louis arrested the 
 Austrian ambassador. 
 
 The marquis de Boham, while the Hungarians were 
 in possesssion of the mints, had two kinds of ducats 
 struck off, one with the head of Louis XIV and the 
 inscription "Protector of Hungary," the other with the 
 head of Tokoli as prince of the part of Hungary occu- 
 pied by him., and the inscription "For religion and 
 Freedom." But the insurgents only maintained pos- 
 session of these cities for a short time, because Tokoli 
 was soon after killed near Heilgenkrenz b}' Diinewald 
 and Wurm. Leopold himself would gladly have re- 
 stored peace, for the murdering, burning, and wasting 
 of Hungary not only by the Hungarians themselves, 
 but the Turkish Pachas continued in the cities, and 
 many hundreds of villages were entirely destroyed, but 
 with his Jesuit councilors nothing was to be done. 
 Even when in 1680, a peace commissioner was ap- 
 pointed, nothing could be accomplished, because Louis 
 sent money and rich presents to Tokoli and Apaffi, 
 and the Grand Vizier promised to aid the insurgents 
 with the whole military power of Turkey. Tokoli 
 
 w.^>w<-.:ii>*.!ia.ah&asL^<a.as^^.»i,«afej^,i^^ • 
 
.-: . THE POLITICS OF, FRANCE - 25C 
 
 even sent Ambassadors to Paris and Constantinople, 
 and continued his murder and arson at the very time 
 he was negotiating with the emperor. 
 
 It was these ambassadors, who had occasioned the 
 , hasty and secret council; they demanded the Hunga- 
 rian crown for Prince Tokoli in return for whicli, 
 Tokoli and his insurgents promised to declare war 
 anew against Austria. 
 
 'These matters were reported to the king by Louvois, 
 and discussed in the secret council. The result was 
 that the crown and subsidies were granted, in return 
 for the repeated promises of the Hungarians and Turks 
 to attack Austria at once. 
 
 When this important and difficult matter was ar- 
 ranged, the king asked: "Is this all?" 
 
 Louvois bowed low and answered gravely. * 
 
 "As your Majesty commands." 
 
 "Is there nothing more to propose?" 
 
 "Yes, Sire, there is another important matter. If 
 your Majesty would be gracious enough to prolong the 
 council a few moments." 
 
 "And what is it?" 
 
 "It concerns Strassburg!" 
 
 "Ah" cried the king, "then speak, Monsieur le Mar- 
 quis. Is the fruit not yet ripe enough to shakedown?" 
 
 "It ripens visibly and will soon lie at the feet of 
 the incomparable Louis the Great," answered the 
 smiling minister, with a low bow. 
 
 "It ripens slowly," said the king. 
 
 '5aBtiitii?''iftiiliYKia?Si#rrt'^i^ 
 

 ' 260 A KO\AL ROBBER 
 
 I '- 
 
 "But surely," replied Louvois. 'i 
 
 "And where and how do we stand?" . ; 
 
 "Your Majesty's minister, Herr von Frischmann 
 has seat new reports " ' ; 
 
 "Let us hear the most important ones— but only 
 the most important. We are tired of the long confer- 
 * ence, and it is time for the chase. So the most im- 
 portant " i 
 
 "Will your Majesty permit me to read Frischmann's- 
 dispatch?" ! 
 
 The king nodded, and Louvois read: I 
 
 "Sire, since my last report, I have observed that 
 several wagons laden with powder and balls, which 
 have arrived in Alsace, have surprised the magistrates 
 of Strassburg. The Stadtrichter, Herr von Zedlitz, 
 one of the most earnest, wisest, and one of the most 
 well disposed of the coouncil, has spoken to me about 
 it, and that the people here can draw no other con- 
 clusion from these hostile preperations in the midst of 
 peace, than that the city had been unfortunate enough 
 to incur a diminution of your Majesty's favor. The 
 acknowledgment of this fear was accompanied with 
 expressions of the deepest devotion and respect for 
 your Majesty, and the most emphatic assurances, that 
 the magistrates had not the slightest intention of 
 treating with the Imperial ambassador, Herr von Mercy, 
 far less of accepting any Imperial troops. At the 
 same time, Herr von Zedlitz assured me he was ready 
 to enter into a closer intercourse with me than the 
 
 teiiafce«!*i£iaafeafi^NaaaM.i:a!aaaiai^^ 
 
5P!?S"S»^w,..™-;^V,;2-- , ^"S^SgSg^l^^aSfr'Kf ' " ^ ~' — '^^ _ -rTSSC-" -^ 
 
 I 
 
 THE POLITICS OF FRANCE 26I 
 
 other gentlemen. I thought it my duty, Sire, to ex- 
 press my special thanks for the service he had rendered 
 France by the delivery of this news, and to give himi 
 the assurance that I would apprize your Majesty of 
 his zeal, his submission, and his attachment to your 
 interest." 
 
 "Very well! said the king, "we have already granted 
 money for bribes. Herr Giiuzer has recived 30,000 
 florins for himself, and 100,000 for the bribery of other 
 members of the council, but. . . " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "He states that it will not suffice." 
 
 "Is the man trustworthy, and zealous in our service?" 
 - "Both, Sire. He has rendered us great services. 
 Gunzer is a trustworthy agent and an excellent spy. I 
 have received a letter from him in which he exposes all 
 the weak points of the city, especially the want of 
 money, the insufficient garrison of the citadel, and the 
 indifference and neglect of the Emperor and empire." 
 
 "Then, Colbert," cried the king, in an animated tone, 
 "pay him 20,000 more for himself, and 200,000 for the 
 magistrates. We will and must have Strassburg." 
 
 Colbert bowed. 
 
 "There is still another mercenary soul among the 
 magistrates, by the name of Stosser, " said Louvcis 
 mockingly, "he has entreated the ambassador for }our 
 Majest3''s picture!" 
 
 "It would be best to burn it on his forehead!" said 
 the king with a contemptuous smile. "That is mere 
 
 ' "■■ ^■'■^--'■- --^"•^^^^'fe^^'^-^^*'^^^^^^^'*^^ 
 
^ ^gg^^ ^ v'*' -F^ '^- 'g^^^ 
 
 262 A ROV'AL ROBBER 
 
 hypocrisy. If these venial rascals will serve us, we 
 should be fools not to use them, but they still remain 
 traitors to their country. Frischmann may throw this :■ 
 . miserable wretch a sum of money, but he shall not 
 have our portrait. Besides, the money will be more ! 
 acceptable to him. But to business. We wish to 
 go. What was that about the excitement, that is .' 
 vexatious, how shall we soothe them?" ' 
 
 "If your Majesty will permit," said Louvois with a 
 scornful glance and smile, "we will deceive the very 
 tvise council of Strassburg, and the citizens of the 
 good, old city." 
 
 "Ah!" cried Louis laughing, "it is very evident 
 that you arrived at Loches during a masquerade!" 
 
 "Masks, disguises and dominoes belong to the 
 province of politics!" said the minister. "After all, J 
 life is only a great masqyerade, and the world the baU ..; 
 room." 
 
 "Not bad!" said the king, "and Louvois, what kind 
 of a mask are you wearing now?" 
 
 "That of the minister of a great king," answered *; 
 Louvois, with a low bow, "though in fact, I am noth- 
 ing but the most obedient servant, the most devoted . 
 slave of the greatest of all princes and rulers, Louis 
 XIV!" I 
 
 The king smiled. "So we esteem in the faithful ser- >; 
 vant, the minister, and in the minister, the faithful 
 servant," said he." But we are wandering from the 
 subject! how shall the disturbance be quieted?" :•-. 
 
 kflj..-.W;^J.,--^-r--M^aa.,-'v..-;^r.;j>:^t..g>^W.ma:.i^^ .^-■i^-.ii^!^aLj-^~i.^}SSjaftffffj,::^:i!^ 
 

 .' ,. THE POLITICS OF FRANCE 263 
 
 Iff 
 
 "If your Majesty will graciously permitj" replied 
 Louvois, "I will grant a leave of absence to all the 
 officers stationed in Alsace who have requested one. 
 That will soothe the people, and we shall not injure 
 ourselves, for as soon as the right moment comes, 
 your Majesty will order a change of garrison, and un- 
 der this excellent pretext the troops will be consoli- 
 dated, and the officers who have been granted leave of 
 absence, again recalled to their regiments." " 
 
 The king was silent for a moment, then slowly bent 
 his proud head and said: "Very v/ell! but we fear the 
 report of our military preparations in Alsace will also 
 spread into foreign countries." 
 
 "Then your Majesty will be gracious enough to send 
 the order to our deputies at the imperial diet of Ratis- 
 bon and the Congress at Frankfort to disavow every 
 military preparation in Alasace, with the statement 
 that the crown of France will consider it an insult if 
 such things are foisted upon it. " ] 
 
 "Those are strong words," said the'king. 
 
 "But they will frighten the brawlers and keep them 
 quiet. Bold assumption and startling measures have 
 accomplished much with the good Germans." 
 
 "So be it then!" 
 
 "And now, one thing more, your Majesty," said 
 Louvois. "I entreat j'ou, Sire, to empower me to or- 
 der Marshal Vauban, our most famous strategist, to 
 proceed to Alsace in the strictest incognito." 
 
 'And could that remain concealed?" 
 
 iteiir'aiife?iiltfife'#f^'i»s»^^^^^^^^ ' '■" * -i-aiiTi ■iiTiii#in"irrfe'-^'i^-» 
 
*V'7Sf^^^'^'K3p^3aSP*«'"^S"s^i3'''>PT^ 
 
 264 A KOVA] KOBP.EH — " { 
 
 ii 
 
 "He can give out that he is gomg to Italy, take 
 cross roads, and avoid the great cities and densely in- 
 habited neighborhoods. We must know the country 
 about Strassburg and be prepared." > 
 
 "Very well! We will grant this also," said the kin 
 "But in case of a war we have still something to con- 
 sider; if it comes to fighting here or there, Protestant 
 troops, if they can be obtained, are always to be pre- 
 ferred. We owe it to our holy mother church to spare 
 her children, the heretic dogs are of no consequence !" 
 
 Louvois bowed; he knew this maxim of Turenne's, 
 and shared it with him and the king. 
 
 He could, therefore, joyfully inform His Majesty, that 
 bought over and influenced by the bishop of Strass- 
 burg and Giinzer, already more than twenty noble 
 families had declared themselves favorable to Catholic- 
 ism and only awaited the fall of the city, to openly 
 ^turn Roman Catholic. : 
 
 At this moment words were heard in the ante-room, 
 in which Captain de Torcy's voice was distinctly au- 
 dible. ' ■ ,, 
 
 "No one can see His Majesty now, " hesaid in a Joud, 
 resolute tone. 
 
 "And why not?'* asked another voice. L. 
 
 "He is in council." *"; 
 
 "But I must tell His Majesty something.** 
 
 "I can admit no one." i 
 
 "The ghost . . . - 
 
 "Louvois," cried the king, starting up in violent 
 agitation. I 
 
 :j;a■jt5ffi;Ag£:i^:a^&»i.y;;3fc^f^^^^■^;v:^^ -, 
 
THE POLITICS OF FRANXE 
 
 265 
 
 "Sire." 
 
 "Let whoever is there enter." 
 
 Louvois went to the door and commanded de Torcy 
 to admit the man. 
 
 It was a servant belonging to the suite of the Duch- 
 esse de Fontanges. The man was deadly pale and 
 trembled in every limb. 
 
 "What is it?" asked the king. 
 
 "Oh I your Majesty!" cried the trembling wretch, — 
 the ghost has appeared again. Your Majesty ordered 
 me to inform you if it was seen." " 
 
 "And where was it?" . 
 
 "Close to the apartment of the Duchesse de Fon- 
 tanges. " 
 
 "Afort de ma vieP'' cried the king angrily, stamping 
 his foot. "What does this mean?" 
 
 "It was the terrible v^hite figure again, they sa}'- — 
 it is the ghost." 
 
 "Have done with that!" cried the king quickly, with 
 a clouded brow,, "and what happened?" 
 
 "The guards ran away, crossing themselves." 
 
 "Cowards," muttered Louis. 
 
 "And the ghost went straight toward the apart- 
 ment in which the duchesse was — " 
 
 "And? go on ... go on ... " 
 
 "But warned by the cries of the guard . . .** 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "The)' locked the doors." 
 
 "Locked them? and the ghost?" , 
 
 ^^MI^i^^S£iiil!Siif6^Si&^di&&Jk,^S!i~ J-« 
 
 vsi^sm 
 
 GiiS^, . 
 
^'^'^^''''^mr'^^^'^^'^W^'^'^'^^^'^'^^ - '^^T^^B? 
 
 266 -A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 "When he found that this was the case . . . turned 
 
 round — " ' i 
 
 " Diabhr cried the king, "he turned? Then there 
 is treachery behind the mask! Up, my lords, follow 
 us! We will yet see what rascal dares to play the 
 ghost of Louis XI, and to terrify our little tender 
 dove, the Duchesse de Fontanges. Where! where did 
 the thing go?" 
 
 "To the Agnes tower!" i , , 
 
 "And the guards did not detain it?" asked Louvois 
 sternly. , ' 1 
 
 "No one dared to do so." 
 
 "Well!" cried Louvois, crimson with shame and 
 anger. "I will teach them to deal with ghosts." 
 
 The servant, in obedience to a nod from the king, 
 withdrew. 
 
 "Did you hear of the affair on your arrival last night, 
 Louvois?" 
 
 "Yes, your Majesty, I heard all; the whole castle 
 was in an uproar." 
 
 "What do you think of it?" 
 
 "What your Majesty's penetration has Instantly 
 perceived, that there is treachery here." 
 
 "And what madman would venture to play this bold 
 game. " 
 
 "Sire!" 
 
 "Well? Put with It." _ \ "':^ 
 
 bire — 
 
 "We command you to tell your opinion.*' 
 
 taA^«fcs<&4|,.iM(||»^,,.|*f(j,,^aiiilj.yj(.,,-f^ 
 
 Itu^. 
 

 THE POLITICS or FRANCE 2&J 
 
 "If it should be confirmed," said Louvois, "it might 
 cost the traitor his head, for he is undoubtedl}' grasp- 
 ing at your Majesty's dearest treasure." 
 
 "Mart de ma vie! Your meaning!" 
 
 "I was informed last evening that the Due de St. 
 Aignan was absent from the masquerade." 
 
 The king turned pale, but said quickly: "No, there 
 you have been misinformed, Louvois. We saw him 
 with our own eyes enter the hall dressed as Mars. " 
 
 "That is true. Sire, but Mars is said to have soon 
 disappeared, become invisible." 
 
 "What!" cried the king, with flashing eyes, "perhaps 
 he was assisting us to — " - 
 
 "Sire!" repeated Louvois craftily, but with scarcely 
 suppressed scorn, "have the grace to remember that 
 what I say is only supposition." 
 
 "The devil take such a supposition," cried the king. 
 "Yet, by Heavens, if it should be confirmed, there 
 will be one head the less on earth. Follow us, gentle- 
 men, we will face the ghost!" 
 
 And the king hurried, with flashing eyes, towards the 
 Agnes tower. St. Aignan was his favorite, but, if he 
 had really played the ghost — Louis would not follow 
 out the train of thought that assailed him. 
 
 The guards were still standing in ' bewilderment, 
 scarcely capable of making the proper salute on the 
 approach of the king. 
 
 Louis XIV did not notice it; he turned hastily into 
 the passage which led to the notorious tower, where, 
 
 TtiMhKlf Artlitif-l 111 .IT rb -wf ^{^i^f■1in^■' .■il\,y\'Tf^~^- ^'•^ 
 
. J 
 
 268 
 
 A ROYAL ROHBER 
 
 '■ r 
 
 according to the statement of the guard, the ghost had 
 disappeared. ! 
 
 He had just turned a corner, when the Due de St. 
 Aignan, dagger in hand, rushed down the corridor from 
 the opposite direction. ' . 
 
 The king stopped, horror stricken. 
 "Monsieur le Due!" he cried. "What does this 
 mean? It is high treason to carry a naked dagger in 
 the king's house! " 
 
 "Sire" exclaimed the Due, "I drew it for the king's 
 house. Let me go, for God's sake, I must follow the. 
 ghost." 
 
 "What?" cried- the king sternly, "does the masque- 
 rade continue to-day?" 1 
 
 But the words died on the king's lips, for, involun- 
 tarily following St. Aignan's hand with his eyes, he 
 plainly perceived the white figure in the passage that 
 opened into' tiie Agnes hall of the church of Loches. 
 "Ha!" exclaimed the king, much relieved, "so, St. 
 Aignan, it is not you who play this rascally ghost?" 
 
 "I? Your Majesty?" said the Due, as if utterly 
 amazed^ but a glance at Louvois put him on the right 
 path. "Oh, no, Sire, I do not play the ghost, but it 
 seems that someone else has plaNcd me a shabby 
 trick." i 
 
 "Not a word now!" cried Louis XIV. "Draw your 
 daggers and follow me, the sly ghost has caught him- 
 self. The wretch will not escape usi Down with him 
 if he resibtsl " ! - - 
 
 i^^^Mi^ii^&jM^^Si^i^^ 
 
 &t:^&x>^SAi'!riS& 
 
THE POLITICS OF FRANCE - 269 
 
 LouvoId' and Colbert's daggers flashed beside St. 
 Aignan's, and all three, following the king, rushed to 
 the end of the passage which opened into the church. 
 
 "There it is! " all exclaimed in the same breath, as 
 they saw the white figure near the mausoleum erected 
 to the memory of the beautiful Agnes SoreL 
 
 "Down with him!" cried the king; and his three 
 companions rushed forward. 
 
 Only a ponderous, gilded railing and some massive 
 pillars, which supported the vaulted roof of the church, 
 separated them from the figure. 
 
 They had now reached the mausoleum ; the beautiful, 
 marble figure of the lovely sleeper rested peacefully 
 upon the sarcophagus. Two angels held the pillow 
 upon which the beautiful head rested, and two lambs, 
 symbols of gentleness, were at her feet. 
 
 All was hushed, quiet, and solemn. 
 
 The king and his followers stood petrified with 
 astonishment. 
 
 "Let us search ever3'thing thoroughly!" said Lou- 
 vois, "perhaps there is a recess or secret passage here. " 
 
 They made a strict search, but found nothing. All 
 was stong, solid masonry, massive walls, immense 
 columns, a mausoleum of marble, and behind it a 
 huge oak confessional — nothing else. 
 
 There was no one to be seen; the figure had disap- 
 peared. The king crossed himself. 
 ., Louis XIV and his court left the castle of Loches 
 that same afternoon. 
 
 liiilr'liF hfifSin liTSSiirtffliffff^'l^^ r'-riTTf^S^nt'-S-'^^>i^^''-ar'-7^''!^lmT-^^ 
 
i-v;-.---j.v-'«-ara3?>^i! 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 STORMS. : 
 
 Syndicus Frantz returned fom Vienna with a heavy 
 heart. The Emperor and his ministers had remained 
 deaf to all his representations, enteaties and warnings. 
 The storm that was approaching in Turkey kept 
 Vienna and the court in constant fear and anxiety. 
 There was no hurry about Strassburg ; the most satis- 
 factory assurances had been received from Louvois and 
 the Bishop of Strassburg, according to which the king 
 of France had not the slightest idea of making any 
 hostile demonstration towards Strassburg. 
 
 So the Syndicus left Vienna with a heavy heart, and 
 hastened home, although the order had been sent to 
 him to continue his efforts at the Imperial court. 
 
 The party of the patriots greeted their noble leader 
 with delight; but Giinzer's adherents were enraged that 
 Syndicus Frantz should have left Vienna. 
 
 Herr Obrecht and Herr Hecker, urged on by Giinzer 
 made the motion: to indict Syndicus Frantz for dis- 
 obeying the orders of the government. A fearful storm 
 arose; the patriots fought for their leader with fiery 
 eloquence; those in favor of France, Dr. Obrecht at 
 
 aw 
 
 H)hi--ir4-mrHt%rtitiiMtffe*i»^ 
 

 STORMS 271 
 
 • 
 their head, raged against Frantz and his party, whom 
 
 they accused of having already urged the little republic 
 
 to the edge of the abyss. But like all storms in 
 
 human life and nature, this too subsided, and Syn- 
 
 dicus Frantz began to speak. 
 
 Quietlj' and clearly, the worthy man laid his whole 
 proceedings in Vienna before the meeting: proved by 
 words and papers, that nothing was to be hoped for 
 from the German Emperor, and that he was obliged to 
 leave Vienna in order not to arouse a feeling of indig- 
 nation against the city in the minds of the ministers 
 and His Imperial Majesty himself. 
 
 Herr Giinzer began to speak, and with a smiling 
 manner, sought to prove that Strassburg had nothing 
 to fear. In pompous language, Giinzer dilated upon 
 the great sevices rendered by Louis XVI, and how 
 the king only wished for the welfare and freedom of 
 Strassburg and of the German Empire, while Emperor 
 and Empire had deserted the city. 
 
 But Syndicus Frantz could no longer keep silence. 
 
 "What! " he cried, "folly to fear anything from 
 France! Are we all blind here, or only Herr Giinzer? 
 Louvois is executing his king's commands with the 
 greatest secrecy. Under the pretense of working at 
 the fortresses, he is ordering numerous bodies of troops 
 to march into Lorraine and Alsace. Do we not know 
 this?" 
 
 "These are mere illusions, which may readily be 
 pardoned in an over anxious patriot, like the Syn- 
 dicus!" said Giinzer, 
 
 •rfiSife:,Ttiaft^'ja'gataja:,,a>str-...i,i«-~^j>-4i^^ 
 
„-!. jgrs, -^^^s r ^if 
 
 -l?«fs-^^- 
 
 272 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 "Illusions!" cried the Syndicus. "But see! What 
 is this story about the broken meal-chest?" 
 
 "What is that?" asked the Ammeister, Dominique 
 Dietrich. < 
 
 "This morning," continued Syndicus Frantz, "before 
 1 came to the council, I received a written report of 
 the great excitement in the surounding country." 
 
 "Fairy tales!" cried Giinzer. i 
 
 The. Syndicus did not allow himself to be inter- 
 rupted. I , 
 
 "It has long been remarked, my friend writes," con- 
 tinued Frantz, "that a quantity of chests, ostensibly 
 filled with arms for Breisach and other strongholds 
 have been sent here from France. But a few days 
 since one of these chests was broken in transportation, 
 and, to the astonishment of all, betrayed its true con- 
 tents." I ■:,, 
 
 "And what were they?" cried several voices 
 . "Meal!" answered Frantz. I 
 
 "And what of that!" said Giinzer. "Must not France 
 provide for the maintenance of her garrisons?" ; 
 
 "She does that besides, and openly. Why, and for 
 what purpose, are these provisions secretly brought into 
 the country?" ; 
 
 "Probably to give the tattlers and busy-bodies no 
 material for childish alarm." - 
 
 "No, Herr Giinzer!" cried Syndicus Frantz; "Lou- 
 vois has corn ground in distant places, and the meal, 
 after being secretly packed, sent into Alsace in great 
 
 SMiS^&k^^^^^.Ss^^.^is^^&^i£^:^ 
 
—JSKSir ~5 -j»-""'_r:w^F^^««--.''^*^st :?^;s»->» . •>-~^:;j-t— ,' - - ' -~ — -ji:^«^^_^j — _ - . ' K# 
 
 -STORMS 273 
 
 quantities to have a store in readiness, in case of a 
 certain possible occurrence." 
 
 "If we make a few advances to France in a reasona- 
 ble way, we shall have nothing to fear," said Herr 
 Von Zedletz, "Herr von Frischmann has told us pf 
 a diplomatic communication from his court." 
 
 "And what does Louvois demand?" 
 
 "The king of France requires the oath of allegiance." 
 
 "A German city- cannot take the oatli of allegiance 
 to any foreign power," cried several voices. 
 
 After a few grave words, the president again re- 
 quested Syndicus Frantz to speak. 
 
 He did so, and quietly but plainly, showed that the 
 proposition of France was the first direct blow against 
 the political existence and independence of Strass- 
 burg. 
 
 When he paused, Giinzer rose. He severel}- censured 
 Obrech's remarks, spoke long in beautifully chosen 
 phj-ases, of the noble feeling of true patriotism, and 
 said how necessary it was to keep friendly with the 
 powerful country of France. 
 
 At this renewed praise of the government of Louis 
 XIV, the Syndicus' heart beat with anger, his eyes 
 flashed, the muscles of his face twitched, and when 
 he rose, notwithstanding his years, he resembled a 
 youth entering the arena, ready for battle. 
 
 "What?" he cried, "does any one dare, in the face 
 of history, answer for Strassburg's safety from France? 
 Does any one dare to speak of the French ruler as a 
 18 Robber . 
 
' 'J^ -V 1* 
 
 
 I 
 
 274 A ROYAL ROBBER i 
 
 protector of German freedom? Is it necessary for me 
 to remind you of the theft of the bishoprics «f 
 Metz, Tull and Verdun?" 
 
 Syndicus Frantz was silent; but his words had fired 
 many a heart. Even those of many of the weak, un- 
 decided ones glowed, and when the loud cheers from 
 the patriots greeted the noble speaker, their voices 
 mingled in the shouts. 
 
 Giinzer and his party were silent and ga^ed gloomily^ 
 around them. But the clerk had no fears, for he 
 knew his people. 
 
 To-morrow the momentary enthusiasm would die 
 out of most hearts — and the rest were bought. 
 
 Giinzer went up to the Ammeister, who, after a few 
 moments, announced that on account of the great 
 excitement the council would be closed. 
 
 A fiendish smile flitted over Giinzer's features. 
 
 He knew that he had gained the victory. 
 
 •■->^-^-'Si^^^'»^feaafej&Mtfaii^^ asfc: 
 
■ -Tt.«a?--!^'iws ^"■t>7'^*^f^^''Tiir> 't^^- 
 
 ^ CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE GHOST. 
 
 It was already very late, but altKough warm and 
 beautiful, the night was one which kept not only half 
 Paris and Versailles, but probably the greater part of 
 the inhabitants of Europe on their feet, for the huge 
 comet, for which the year 1680 was remarkable, hung 
 in the sky like a vast, fiery rod. 
 
 This was the first time that it had been wholly visi- 
 ble, as hitherto clouds had partially concealed it; and 
 its appearance terrified all. It was so large that, even 
 when its head had set, a portion of the train which 
 was more than seventy degrees long and ver}' wide, 
 could be seen all night above the horizon. 
 
 Men trembled, prayed, and crowded into the 
 churches, for the destruction of the world, earthquakes, 
 war, and pestilence, were prophesied ; while all Ger- 
 many resounded with the terrified cry: "The Turks, 
 the Turks! it means the destruction of the empire by 
 the Turks!" 
 
 Even in Versailles, at the court of Louis XIV, the 
 
 excitement roused by this imposing sight was great; 
 
 though, inconsequence of the incredible frivolity that 
 
 275 
 
 iiiMii»j-itTirMrtrri^iTirir'i.iiifiiltifim»iirii«iviiiTfi?W 
 
'''^i^^yyT^'^^^'y^'^'Sg'yyy j^sgsgi^b^i^ggB^^ 
 
 276 \ A ROYAL ROBBER ' t 
 
 ^prevailed, secret anxiety was expressed b)^ Jeers and 
 iCoffs at the fear experienced by all. The Due de St. 
 A.ignan naturally set the example. Though secretly 
 intimidated, and in reality painfully reminded of the 
 legions of his sins, he was outwardly full of witticisms 
 about the unbidden guest, while from his lips, ever 
 ready with an anecdote, flowed a never-ceasing stream 
 of tales about comets, ghosts, supernatural appearances, 
 and similar stories. But the Duchesse de Fontanges 
 was so deeply agitated that she had been unable to 
 seek her couch. 
 
 She had undressed long before and was in a negUgi 
 costume. i 
 
 She was a matchlessly beautiful vision, as she stood 
 at the open window of her sleeping-room, gazing out- 
 half in terror, half in surprise and delight— at the 
 night-heavens, in which the Eternal One had placed 
 that great and terrible object, the fiery comet. i _ 
 
 A thin white cambric dressing-gown, covered with 
 delicate embroidery, scarcely veiled the wonderful 
 outlines of her faultless figure, and through the lace 
 that floated around her like clouds of mist, appeared 
 her bare arms, beautiful neck, and matchless bust, 
 for the light robe was onh^ fastened by a girdle. ; 
 
 The king and the whole court had heard of the 
 ghost; but it had been seen only by some of the guards 
 and in the vicinity of the duchesse's apartments. 
 
 And the latter — had she not gazed at Loches, into 
 its pale, livid face, the face of a dead man, that chilled 
 
 
THE GHOST - 277 
 
 the very marrow in her bones, and whose memory 
 startled her soul like the trump of doom. 
 
 "Yes, it was his ghost," cried a voice in Angeline's 
 heart — and this ghost pursued her even here! 
 
 Angeline already repented what she had done. She 
 was the worshiped favorite of the king; she had been 
 raised to the rank of Duchesse de Fontanges, she was 
 rich, powerful, almost a queen; she was radiant in 
 youth and beauty, the boldest of her vain wishes had 
 already been gratified and even surpassed, and she 
 had hitherto felt unspeakably happy — but now? 
 
 Ever since she had gazed into the pale, livid face 
 of the apparition at Loches, her composure had fled, 
 her conscience cried out: "You have turned aside from 
 the path of virtue, you have forgotten your poor mother, 
 your faithful teacher; you have sent the man who 
 loved you so truly and fondly to his death, you are 
 Gauthier's murderer! — for the face of that unhappy 
 ghost wore Gauthier's features. 
 
 The impression was a terrible one at the time, yet 
 the next few days with their changes, intoxicating 
 pleasures, homage, and mirth, majesty and splendor, 
 utterly effaced it. 
 
 Angeline was still standing at the open window of 
 her sleeping-room, and the picture she formed was 
 indeed one of surpassing beauty. The fact that she 
 was the king's favorite disturbed the cliarming Ange- 
 line de Fontanges very little. In those days— es- 
 pecially at the court of Louis XIV, — people were ac- 
 
 MMiiiiffffltnfffrfiiftiiM-'^Tii^'^i^^ 
 
■ws«^l^>w^«\ "•p=_; 
 
 278 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 customed to such things. His Majesty had already 
 had a succession of favorites, and moreover had 
 been in love with all the beauties of the court, 
 even his own sister-in-law. All the princes, prin- 
 cesses and nobles in the kingdom — whether mar- 
 ried or not — had their love affairs and intrigues. 
 Therefore Angeline's relations toward the king would 
 have disturbed her very little if she had not been 
 haunted day and night, by fear of the ghostly appari- 
 tion. It was Gauthier's ghost, of that she was sure, 
 and the thought that she had sacrificed her early lover 
 was the cause of the agitation of her soul, and of 
 course the appearance of the comet increased her anx- 
 iety and terror. I , 
 
 There it was, the huge comet, and no one knew 
 whence it came or whither it was going. The whole 
 world trembled before the mysterious visitant that, 
 perhaps the very next instant, might fall upon the 
 earth and crush it into shapeless ruin. 
 
 Angelina trembled. Her mind had not strength to 
 rise above the universal superstition, nor did she 
 possess the blasphemous levity of St. Aignan, who, 
 with fiendish jo}^, could think of perishing with a 
 world, while yet in the act of draining the Intoxicating 
 cup of sin. 
 
 They closed the window and drew the heavy silk 
 curtafns over it. A sigh escaped her lips; it was at 
 the thought of the long hours of darkness which wiere 
 still before her. 
 
 <&H'iitnfe-i-'i':'' 
 
 •| '-l..^i-1-Tll 
 
 ^Mm 
 
 ■ii}tftai'kSaMeAitvfi'<«fffitril^>«^'=i^^^^ 
 
-: - ' I'HE GHOST 279 
 
 /'■■--■- - ■ . ■ • ■ . ■ - ;■ " 
 
 Then the secret door noiselessly opened by the 
 
 pressure of a spring. 
 
 t' But at the same moment, a cry escaped Angellne's 
 
 lips — the ghostly apparition stood on the threshold. 
 
 The ghost had entered — the ample, white robe fell 
 
 ,- - off, and before the duchesse, who was trembling in 
 
 'f; ' every limb, stood — St. Aignan. 
 
 ^] The duchesse stood in bewilderment, scarcely dar- 
 
 ing to trust her own eyes, as if turned to stone, 
 i St. Aignan sank on one knee before her and said in 
 
 his peculiar, caressing tone: "Pardon, divine Angeline, 
 ^ a double pardon. First, for having frightened you, 
 wonderful creature, and secondly, for having dared — " 
 "Merciful God," faltered Angeline in astonishment, 
 glowing with blushes. "Merciful God! suppose the 
 king-" ; 
 
 "We are safe from him," replied St. Aignan smiling, 
 as he still knelt before Angeline. "The king is ill 
 and has gone to bed. " 
 
 "But who authorized you to enter here?" 
 "Who, Angeline?" cried St. Aignan, passionately, 
 "who save my own ardent heart! Forgive me, heav- 
 enly creature, I cannot help it! The most passionate, 
 ' fervent love consumes me. Let me be happy — or — 
 
 perish at your feet!" .^ 
 
 ; Angeline trembled like an aspen leaf. A mist came 
 
 before her eyes. 
 
 "Angeline," repeated St. Aignan Imploringly, still 
 kneeling at her feet. 
 
 SlSr:nii^SSSSsm^-.mSm$hiX^rir.-iiriti!it,t^ a!r-'ift,sSkit-ir hii^i rTatii" ■■; ' .. .^ „^aJL,m^^.^ . 
 
r .-"- _^;t J ^^t^Wf'^^^^^^S^T^^^^f^^^"^^^?^'^'^'^^^^' ' -^'^^T^ 
 
 280 A ROVAL ROBBER 
 
 ■„ J- 
 
 "Rise!" said the latter, drawing back. i '". 
 
 "Not until I know that you will pardon my presump- 
 tion." 
 
 "OhI God! oh! God!" faltered the duchesse, "if 
 any one should hear us — if the king sho'uld learn — " 
 
 "He will not. At the utmost, it will only be an- 
 other appearance of the ghost." . 
 
 "And you?" 
 
 "Yes, y, / have phi} ed it this time; but it is no evil 
 spirit that has come to you at this hour, fairest of the 
 fair, but the spirit of love! Dearest, let us be happy, 
 and the world and all else can crumble into ruin." 
 
 "Do not blaspheme! " cried Angeline. "Let us 
 think of our sins, not commit new ones. Rise!" 
 
 St. Aignan rose. Angeline drew her light robe close 
 around her. The former eagerly extended his arms 
 and was about to clasp the charming beauty in a fer- 
 vent embrace, when boih started back as if a thunde> 
 bolt had fallen. 
 
 Again a low voice vvas heard. 
 
 "Merciful God! " murmured Angeline, turning deadly 
 pale, "we are lost — the king!" 
 
 ^ A livid pallor overspread the countenance of her 
 companion. One moment more and their lives would 
 be forfeited. 
 
 St. Aignan instantly thought of all this. His eyes 
 moved swiftly around the room, and the next moment 
 the heavy silk curtains that draped the nearest window 
 concealed him. 
 
 liM'fili'^^ffi'^'-i'MT^YiSrtii^i'iil'I'fc'fihifrT^ 
 
^ ' THE GHOST * 28 1 
 
 Angel ine clung trembling to the nearest chair. 
 
 Again the secret door opened, and again Angeline 
 almost fainted — the white, ghostly apparition stood 
 on the threshold. 
 
 But this time it was the right one — for Angeline 
 gazed in horror at Gauthier's pale, livid face. 
 
 "Gauthier?" escaped her lips in a tone of mingled 
 surprise and terror. 
 
 "Yes," replied a hollow voice, slowly and solemnly — 
 "I am Gauthier!" 
 
 Angeline passed her hand over her brow, on which 
 thick drops of cold perspiration were standing. Then 
 summoning all her courage, she cried, making the 
 sign of the cross: 
 
 "In the name of God the Father. God the Son, and 
 God the Holy Ghost, if thou art a spirit avaunt from 
 me!" 
 
 But the figure remained quiet and motionless. 
 
 Angeline tried not to faint. She tottered, her arms 
 fell by her side as if petrified. 
 
 "You are mistaken, Madame la Duchesse!" said the 
 figure, in a trembling voice, but with a sharp, cutting 
 emphasis. ''It is no ghost, but a man that stands be- 
 fore you." * 
 
 "Impossible!" 
 ' "It may be wonderful; but that it is possible, you 
 see!" 
 
 "Then I have been deceived. Gauthier de Montfer- 
 rand did not—" 
 
 rSfauzi<iS»iiS:i«a 
 
 ^Si&^Shi^l^^ 
 
^'«''=^^*'=!w''P*'''!?"'*?7?P5^!"*T^^ 
 
 282 ' A ROYAI, ROBBER 
 
 "When your faithlessness, your shame, Madame la 
 Duchesse, broke his heart, he tried to put a bullet 
 through his brain beneath your window." ' 
 
 Angeline turned away and covered her face with her 
 hands. The figure turned its back upon the door 
 through which it had entered, and which still remained 
 open. 
 
 No one in the room perceived that the king, Louis 
 XIV, was now standing behind it. 
 
 The news that the ghost had again appeared in the 
 palace had induced him, though ill, to leave his bed, 
 in order, followed at a distance by several armed men, 
 to examine the apparition in person. 1 
 
 "The bullet," continued the figure quietly, "did not 
 kill me, though I was supposed to be dead when car- 
 ried from the spot — It did not kill me; but the wou-id 
 was so dangerous that for months I hovered between 
 life and death. " . .■ ' 
 
 "Oh! thank God, Gauthier," cried Angeline, "your 
 death was a terrible reproach to me!" 
 
 "Calm yourself, Mc.dame la Duchesse," continued 
 the figure, "calm j^ourself — I shall not take the re- 
 proach from your heart. True, the wound has healed 
 but the shot will still cost me my life — my health is 
 destroyed — ^I am tottering towards the grave." 
 
 "Do not talk so, Gauthier," pleaded Angeline, "live 
 for your mother." ; 
 
 "My mother is dead!" " | 
 
 "Then think of yourself ! " | 
 
 -r'>'aSffBfe'mt"ifflir-'fi--f'--Tl''ii-iTF.i-ni-^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
\:- /: , 
 " ' THE GHOST 283 
 
 "I, too, am dead to this world, although I still drag 
 cut a miserable existence. What could the world 
 have for me, while what was highest, most sacred, 
 dearest to me, lies in the dust." 
 
 "Gauthier?" 
 
 "I shall soon die — and willingly! But before my 
 poor, crushed, weary heart can lie down to its last re- 
 pose, I have undertaken one commission — and to per- 
 form this commission I now stand here. It is to ap- 
 pear before you, Madame la Duchesse!" 
 
 Gauthier paused, and then said in an inexpressibly 
 sorrowful tone: "Before yau, Angeline, to entreat you 
 to turn back from the path of sin to the way of right 
 and virtue. For this object I wore a mask; — for how 
 else could I approach you?" 
 
 "Impossible! In Loches It was — " 
 
 "Gauthier de Montferrand, as well as here." 
 
 "But the king himself followed the apparition to 
 Agnes Sorel's monument, where the ghost — " 
 
 "Thanks to the precaution of the priests of the church 
 of Loches, vanished without leaving a trace behind, 
 through one of the confessionals behind the monu- 
 ment, which has a concealed entrance to the crypt." 
 
 Angeline sank Into a chair and covered lier face with 
 both hands. 
 
 "But how was poor Gauthier to reach the proud, 
 beautiful Duchesse de Fontanges, revelling in pleas- 
 ure and gayety, pomp and splendor!" 
 
 "Gauthier!" 
 
 iHBBi£"#iiBit8iS' riT5'rr- -"'-*»^-— -"-'—■'^■^■-•^•-•^^^^ -^*^!^' «^i.-i'^g^.^!aia^w t||;niT s y af^^ 
 
284 ■-':■''' A ROYAL ROBBER ' . ' [ 
 
 "The steps of the throne, where, — forgetting the ad- 
 monition of her poor deserted mother, the holy lessons 
 of her faithful, gray -haired teacher, God, virtue and 
 her own salvation — Angeline de Fontanges, in the arms 
 of a king — " 1 - 
 
 Louis XIV started, his eyes flashed witii anger, ^ 
 but he again forced himself to keep silence until he 
 had heard all. I 
 
 "I cannot utter the words!" continued Gauthier 
 gloomily, "let your conscience speak instead. But I 
 longed, I resolved to reach 3^ou, Madame la Duchesse, 
 Money, so much I had already learned at court — money 
 is the ke}' to everything in the world. I therefore 
 sold all I possessed, even our little ancestral castle, 
 and in company with Pere Hilaire, set about execut- 
 ing my last life-task." 1 
 
 "Yes!" muttered Louis XIV, "it shall indeed be 
 your last. " ! }^/' 
 
 "We tried for a long time in vain, "continued Gau- 
 thier, "then the court went to Loches, where Pere - '-^i 
 Hilaire had an old acquaintance among the priests. 
 All else that I needed to obtain the possibility of ap- 
 proaching you, Madame la Duchesse, I obtained there, . 
 as here, by lavish bribes. Men will do everything 
 for money. They will betray God, and their king, nay, 
 — sell themselves." 1 
 
 "Gauthier, Gauthier!" cried Angeline in agony, still 
 covering her face with her hands. n - 
 
 - "Even the key to the secret passage that leads from 
 
 iSda&^^^Mi^&iM^Q^ 
 
•-s* v^j«"i9r«^»»52; s --— ---s'-iji'^^J-- 
 
 THE GHOST v 285 
 
 the king's apartments hither, even this precious key 
 ' — was to be bought." 
 
 The king ground his teeth and then murmured: 
 V "But the guilty ones will yet pay dearly for it. 
 -. The price is — the Bastile!" 
 
 "But it was not only the key, I was also obliged to 
 "^remove the guards. Here, however, it was useless to 
 attempt bribery — and therefore I was obliged to pave 
 my way by fear and superstition. Now, Madame la 
 Duchesse, you know how and why I came to you as a 
 ghost. Had any other way been possible, a man like 
 me, who already has one foot in the grave^ would have 
 scorned such mummery. " 
 
 Gauthier paused a moment. Angeline sobbed quietly 
 — there was no movement behind the curtain — the king 
 stood motionless before tl\e door, anger and vengeance 
 were throned on his brow. 
 
 "And now, " continued Gauthier, after a slight pause, 
 "now, Madame la Duchesse, the dying man calls upon 
 y^ou to remember the vow you once made to God, 
 your poor, deserted mother and Pere Hilaire. He 
 ^ reminds you of the dream the Eternal One once sent 
 you." 
 
 Angeline' s head was bowed on her hands and she 
 
 ■ sobbed convulsivel3\ 
 
 Gauthier fell on his knees at her feet. "Angeline! " 
 he cried, in a tone trembling with agony. Hear the 
 
 ■ voice of a dying man! I ask nothing, nothing for 
 ;/ myself — I only wish to save your soul, to rescue you 
 
 ifcfeJfeiJ5JlMJ3iaa.!&££;5::^^£»;g^£feBfe^4i.^^^^ 
 
pwfTjf J , wi i!'i I , „ I ilAii iii!,p(jp||p»f WPywivv- 'Sf JCj'"*'!?g®^^W'wgS4*«5^-^T^^ 
 
 286 : - " . A ROYAL ROBBER " | ]'' 
 
 from the horrors of the future. Turn back, Angeline, 
 turn back to the path of virtue, back to the arras of 
 your poor deserted mother, who is weeping herself 
 blind for her lost child. You have fallen low, low 
 indeed, but the mercy of God is infinite." 
 
 Gauthier paused; Angeline still wept, but did not 
 move. 
 
 "Angeline!" cried the yoath again, while his voice 
 trembled with secret emotion. "Angeline, cast your 
 vain baubles from you! The king — " 
 
 "He loves me!" sobbed Angeline through her tears, 
 "and I return his love!" * 
 
 "But your love is sin, the king is married!" ! 
 
 "And even if it were a sin — it is still love." 
 
 "No!" cried Gauthier rising, while his eye gleamed 
 forth from his pallid face with a ghastly, supernatural 
 brillianc}', "no, it is not love that binds you to the 
 king, Madame la Duchesse, but base vanity. The 
 king loves you? Oh! yes, to-day — to-morrow, perhaps 
 even day after to-morrow! But he will soon grow 
 weary of you, as he has of so many others and then, 
 then, he will cast you aside, like them, to bewail 
 your folly in perpetual misery and despair!" 
 
 "No! no!" cried Angeline, "the king is not capable 
 of such conduct towards me." 
 
 "No!" cried a loud voice at the same moment, "he 
 is not capable of it!" 
 
 Angeline shrieked aloud, Gauthier started and turned 
 — the king stood before them. \ 
 
 ■1 1 ' ' "-■';", ' lu-i i-tf-"v'''''ni>TVirf-fcTriif-i;ii'f;a:i'f.a^ 
 
r * THE GHOST 287 
 
 The king made a sign and Captain de Torcy entered 
 : with the guard. 
 
 "Arrest this man!" said the king, "and take him to 
 J the Bastile!" 
 
 "You will answer for his safety with your head," 
 ^ continued the king sternly. "He has, as he says him- — 
 • self, one foot in the grave — so it will be easy for the 
 
 other to follow." , 
 
 ' ' De Torcy moved forward, but the old warrior tot- 
 : tered. 
 
 Gauthier stood with his figure drawn up to its full 
 
 height. He cast one grave, warning glance at Ange- 
 
 line, a look of admiration, of eternal farewell, then 
 
 followed the guard with a firm, steady step. "» . 
 
 "Angeline!" said the king gentl)', "I have heard all. 
 
 - You are innocent, my child; you love me truly and 
 
 ; faithfully, and your king will be true and faithful to 
 
 you. Forget the fanatic and go to rest. You need it 
 
 _ after this agitating hour, and if you should ever have 
 
 occasion to complain of me, remind me of it." 
 
 He kissed Angeline on the forehead and left the 
 room. 
 
 
 Wrr'^r-''iiJlS#'i^tt>i!TiSi^i«ifiif-i'Tfi#r^^ 
 
srV' %-''r-^^SSp!^!jS^J;;--^ 
 
 ■A .- 
 
 PART IV. i s: 
 
 IN EXILE. i 
 
 i 
 
 - I 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 , t 
 
 THE DISCOVERY. \ , 
 
 A wondrous summer night brooded over the earth. 
 ''The air was soft and mild, the pine forests sent forth 
 a delicious fragrance, at once balmy and spicy, and 
 the moon shone so brightly that the magnificent land- 
 scape was plainly revealed to the eyes .of the traveler, 
 who descending from the heights, gazed thoughtfully 
 at the scene. 
 
 It was a wildly romantic region; mountain peak 
 rose above mountain peak, now covered with countless 
 pines, crowded together like an army ready for battle, 
 — now bare and barren, crowned by strangely formed 
 masses of rock, that gazed like hostile spirits into 
 the silent night. Ah! it was no marvel that the sol- 
 itary traveler stood lost in reverie; the whole region 
 seemed to dream of ancient times, of centuries that 
 had vanished long ago. 
 
 Hugo von Zedlitz gazed over the wide plain to- 
 
 388 
 
 L^assiiiii^ak&!i-^ii£SSiS^^^iSSti>^Si££SS^Sli^£ji^Siiid^ 
 
. - — THE DISCOVERY 2S9 
 
 wards the spot where flowed his beloved native river; 
 the spot where Strassburg's ancient cathedral rose 
 gravely and silently, and where lived the lovely, inno- 
 cent girl, for whom his heart throbbed so warmly, so 
 faithfully, so loyally. 
 
 Months had passed since he had seen Alma, and he had 
 suffered during that time, both mentally and physically. 
 
 He first went to Heidelberg, hoping to remain for 
 a time with some relatives and work for his native 
 city. But even this vague hope was instantly cut off, 
 as his relatives — not crediting his statement and put- 
 ting an evil construction on his flight — received him 
 coldly and repellantly. 
 
 He could stay no longer in Heidelberg, as his 
 slender means would not suffice, Yet he did not wish 
 to go far away from Strassburg. At last he remem- 
 bered a school-friend, who lived in Breisgan. 
 
 Thus Hugo von Zedlitz set out, but as he wished 
 to remain unknown, he wore the Alsatian peasant cos- 
 tume, with which Wenck had provided him at the 
 time of his flight. 
 
 His disguise proved very necessary; for during the 
 first days of his journe}^, a rumor reached his ears 
 that French and Alsatian spies were on the track of 
 a young citizen of Strassburg, who had preached 
 high-treason and rebellion againist France. 
 
 When he reached Freiburg and sought his friend, 
 he learned that the latter had died a few weeks be- 
 fore. So this hope was destroyed. 
 
 /£) Rubhir 
 
 ■^^^^^^^^^aSteSi^aasiia^iieBitei^^ J■^J.s,ii^ta.i^^ism^.ai^^ 
 
^■H^o ■--,*--'•:'' --,-, ^.'^ -^■^^r^'^'^^w^^^'^'w^^^^'^rw^'^^- 
 
 2gO A ROYAL ROBBER I 
 
 Hugo found temporary shelter with a lawyer; but, 
 though he did not mind frequent struggles with actual 
 want, he could not endure the thought of being com- 
 pletely cut off from his native city and deprived of all 
 opportunity to vindicate himself by some patriotic 
 deed. 
 
 At last Hugo could no longer bear to remain so far 
 from Strassburg, whose freedom and existence he 
 knew were continually threatened. His resolution 
 was quickly formed, quickly executed, and — this night 
 he had already advanced so near his goal that, with 
 a throbbing heart, he could recognize in the distance 
 the spot where his beloved city stood. 
 
 Hugo von Zedlitz had already been on his feet two 
 days and two nights, resting very little in the mean- 
 time. So it was natural that he was soon overpowered 
 by fatigue, to which two worse , companions, hunger 
 and thirst, were now added. Just at that moment a 
 miserable little inn appeared in the gray dawn as he 
 turned a bend in the road, an inn before which a lazy, 
 sleep}' servant was feeding the horses of a wagon la- 
 den with goods. 
 
 "Good-morning, my friend," said the young man, 
 pale and weak with hunger, as he tottered wearily 
 forward. 
 
 The servant looked at him with half-closed eyes, 
 but was too sleepy to answer. 
 
 "Can I have something to eat?" continued Hugo, i 
 
 "They're all asleep," said the fellow sulkily. 
 
 t&,:i^&i^i',Jii„iiL. ''■'ii^r-i^4&^Sf»rTi¥T^%r.^»iff-'#^ 
 
THE DISCONERY 29I 
 
 Hugo collected the last small coins in his pocket 
 and threw them on ihe stone table before the bouse, 
 so that the}^ rattled loudly. 
 
 "Will bread and cheese do?" asked the man. 
 
 "Very well!" replied the tired traveler, sitting down 
 on the stone bench beside the table — "and a drink of 
 water." 
 
 Hugo was quickly served. The scanty meal re- 
 freshed him, only fatigue would scarcely let him enjo}' 
 it; his eyes almost closed. 
 
 Even the servant, who, meantime, had been attend- 
 ing to the carter and his wagon, noticed it. 
 
 "I suppose you are tired and would like to rest a 
 while?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes," leplied Hugo, "but I suppose the whole 
 house is locked. " 
 
 "But not the hay-mow close by," said the man 
 laconically, pulling his cap over his face and entering 
 the inn. 
 
 This hint was enough for Hugo. He mounted the 
 ladder leaning against the adjoining barn and threw 
 himself, unheeding the cool morning air, upon the hay. 
 
 A few minutes after Hugo von Zedlitz was sound 
 asleep. 
 
 But what a slumber it was. Nature demanded her 
 rights and the young body gave them in fullest meas- 
 ure. 
 
 The servant had gone to the city to do some er- 
 rands early in the morning, and as he had told no- 
 
 ■|A^^i^,■ai^,'!fWillm^&rl'4l^tlllr^i•^}\if;^f^ nf- IfStit^SSIlXPtetirtMtmtraitf--^^^-'^''^ ■ 
 
- -Tr^*^«Tr~)r!r' 
 
 292 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 body about the young man asleep in the barn, no one 
 knew anything about him. Business had not been 
 brisk during the day and not until afternoon did a 
 few monks and soldiers arrive. 
 
 The sun was setting when Hugo was awakened from 
 his deep slumber by loud singing. He opened his eyes 
 in astonishment and at first could not understand where 
 he was. 
 
 Soon memory returned, and with it, the recollection 
 ' of what had occurred during the past night and morn- 
 ing. 
 
 Through a chink in the boards he perceived, close 
 at hand, the miserable inn. There was the stone table 
 where he had taken his frugal breakfast, and here he was 
 lying on the hay-mow, where he had slept till sunset. 
 
 But what was going on below close by the barn? 
 
 To whom did the harsh voices, proceeding from 
 
 throats somewhat too well moistened, belong? They 
 were soldiers' and rogues' songs, sung amid peals of 
 laughter and — sometimes in the French language. 
 
 He turned softly and moved nearer the old board 
 wall of the barn. 
 
 Close beside the barn stood a huge linden, beneath 
 which tables and benches had been placed, and around 
 these universal gayety prevailed. 
 
 Monks and soldiers sat drinking and singing, while 
 a red-cheeked girl, ruddy with health, brought them 
 wine in huge mugs. 
 
 The giri was really pretty, only her beauty was 
 
 1 
 
 i'A*riirii<i'ir^?r*"irl~'r'-~'yrii1iftf'fiifeif^ "1 i"'--'-iT'-'Ti"r "rT'r'S^'-'"- 
 
 *'■■■- i^afeffiiii^iTffliiiiwiT 
 
, "?5<::=?'"i»tfii, rw^-s.fp' - '■^w^^jp*.' 
 
 THE DISCOVERY 293 
 
 somewhat coarse, like her whole nature. She laugh- 
 ingly gave still ruder answers to the rude jests of the 
 monks and soldiers, and, when, in the universal hilarity, 
 one of the friars pulled her into his lap, gayly sub- 
 mitted and even jestingly returned his kisses. 
 
 But a fresh shout rang out when one of the soldiers 
 — evidently, as his French accent showed, an Alsatian 
 from the French frontier — raised his mug and in a 
 harsh voice began to sing. 
 
 One of the monks, v/ho had apparently held aloof 
 from the drinking as much as possible, made a sign 
 to a soldier. After exchanging a few words, both 
 moved noiselessly towards the place where the ladder 
 rested against the barn. 
 
 Hugo was very much startled. 
 
 The monk pointed to the bay-loft where the exile 
 was concealed, and the soldier nodded assent. 
 
 Had they heard of him? Had the servant betrayed 
 him? He certainly had not been seen. Or did acci- 
 dent bring them to the spot? 
 
 He dared not show himself and then — there was but 
 one way of getting down -and this was by means of 
 the ladder the two were just preparing to ascend. 
 
 Hugo heard one after another step on the ladder. 
 There was not another moment to lose. 
 
 Quickly as a flash of lightning, he darted under the 
 hay which was piled high in one corner, v. hile only a 
 few bundless lay In the others. He had scarceh' time 
 to roll two of them over to conceal his head, without 
 
I^^^t^ 
 
 
 294 . A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 running the risTc of being suffocated when the monk 
 entered, followed by the soldier. 
 
 "There," said the former, "now we can talk over the 
 other matters undisturbed." I . 
 
 "Well, what's to be done now?" asked the soldier. 
 
 "You are ordered here?" 
 
 "Yes." I 
 
 "Well, you haven't been wanting in punctuality." 
 
 "A soldier is accustomed to that." 
 
 "And to obedience," observed the monk. "So are 
 we." 
 
 "Obedience to our superiors." 
 
 "That is our duty also. We too form an army." 
 
 The soldier laughed scornfully, then replied: "Yes, 
 an army of cowls." 
 
 "We are the soldiers of God, the champions of the 
 church." 
 
 "Maybe so," cried the soldier, "for my part, I pre- 
 fer the sword to the cross." 
 
 "The best way is: for sword and cross to fight with 
 and beside each other, for one and the same good 
 cause, our Holy Mother Church." 
 
 The monk crossed himself devoutly, the soldier fol- 
 lowed his example, but did not seem to fully agree 
 with the remark. , 
 
 "I think," he said, "it is still better for each to 
 keep his own place. We know how to strike with 
 the sword, you, holy Father, understand prayers, 
 masses and confessions; but — deuce take it, how 
 
 --ii^^fe»frji->,..>^ _- '^^s. ■• -'-^-- ■-" .',■ -^rV"^>'^iit^Vi'f'-"'-r'^:rrVVrifySi^V^P^;ffl^i^'^B 
 
i«W»»'f"',^ -!■*-»■" 
 
 'V-T ^ * ' 
 
 ' - . THE PISCOVERY 295 
 
 V would it look If I were put in a cowl and you in the 
 .; king's coat." 
 
 f "Perhaps not so badly as you imagine.** 
 
 ■ "You are jesting, Father." 
 
 "It might be put to the test." • 
 
 "Devil take...." 
 ' "Calm yourself." 
 
 "Speak plainly. What's the meaning of all the 
 |; mystery with which we were sent here by secret 
 ;{ roads?" 
 
 "Are you and your men good catholics?" 
 ,, "Yes!" 
 
 "Do you serve His Majesty, the King of France?" 
 
 "Yes. " 
 
 "Well then, you will cheerfully, aside from your 
 ; military duty, as good catholics, brave soldiers, and 
 Frenchmen, do what the king, your commander and 
 holy Mother Church desire!" 
 
 "But what's the use of these by-ways! Put us 
 where blows are dealt and we'll know how to use our 
 
 - swords. We don't care for blood even If it flows in 
 streams." 
 
 ; ; The monk drew a parchment from his breast. 
 
 :^ ' "Read! " he said, holding it out to the soldier. 
 
 "Let the devil read it," replied the latter, "if he 
 can make out the letters." 
 
 "At least, you know the signature?" 
 
 "Who doesn't know the signature of the Minister 
 
 - ol War, the Marquis de Louvois? " 
 
 =^iS^^^^S^Miis£^^^i^lf^if&Li^}^^ 
 
■-T*?*-- - - ' ■ ; ^'^:^'^-'-y^7^^i^^^^' 
 
 296 A ROYAL KOBBER 
 
 "Then hear what the order says." 
 
 And the monk read an order from Louvois, accord- 
 ing to which the soldiers sent to this place were to 
 render implicit obedience to Father Ren^, a deputy of 
 the Bishop of Strassburg. 
 
 "Calm yourself," said Father Ren6, perceiving the 
 unpleasant impression this communication produced 
 upon his companion — "I shall ask nothing of you 
 which will conflict with your honor as a soldier. On 
 the contrary, you and your comrades are to perform 
 a service by which you will earn the thanks of your 
 king and the church." ' , 
 
 "And that is?" 
 
 "You are to help His most Christian Majesty to 
 conquer that nest of heretics, Strassburg." 
 
 "I'm listening." 
 
 "Do you know Strassburg?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Well, that will donoharm— I'll guide you myself." 
 
 "To Strassburg?" : 
 
 "Yes, but first listen to me." , 
 
 "Speak." 
 
 "We are bare-footed monks, as you Me." 
 
 The other nodded. 
 
 "Well, our monastery — one of the oldest in Strass- 
 burg and now the only one in the accursed nest of 
 heretics — is in the heart of the city." 1 
 
 "Well, and what's to be done with the monastery?" 
 
 "Why, I just told you; in the monastery of the 
 
 A^.:i&^l!^.=^Ui2SiX-ic,^:^i^^iiliBi^^ 
 
THE DISCOVERY 297 
 
 bare-footed monks, which is under the bishops sole 
 control, everything can be arranged as we please. So 
 by degrees troops will be smuggled in, of which you 
 have the honor of being the first. When there are 
 enough — well, that you'll learn afterwards." 
 
 "But will they allow us to pass the city gates?" 
 
 "Not as French troops certainly." 
 
 "Then how are we to get in?" < 
 
 "By stratagem. Down in the inn lies a large bag 
 which we brought with us. Guess what is in it." 
 
 "How can I?" 
 
 "Gowns for six bare-footed monks." 
 
 "And what's to be done with them?" 
 
 "You will slip into them — " 
 
 "Never'" cried the other, starting up and pulling his 
 beard defiantl3^ "Zounds do you suppose we're going 
 to creep in in cowls? We are soldiers, not priests. 
 
 "You are," said the monk quietly, "good catholics, 
 brave soldiers, and have sworn to obey } our command- 
 er. Will you by resistance call down upon your 
 heads the curse of the church? Will 3'ou refuse to 
 obey the Minister of War, and also your master and 
 king?" 
 
 The man was silent; but it was evident that he was 
 passing through a severe mental struggle. 
 
 The monk said kindly: 
 
 "You see how your men are singing and carousing 
 below. They are nothing, for — you are their soul. 
 That is why I have applied to you. You must think 
 
v-»».3iArjjje»c,r5SS^?-^Mpi.r«i255i^J5l^5^ - '_~r -"-s^ 
 
 298 A ROYAL ROBBER , 
 
 for them and induce them to act. His Majesty and 
 the bishop will value you accordingly. And if we 
 succeed in throwing Strassburg into the king's hands 
 you will be made men. Absolved from all the sins of 
 your whole life — and that's saying a great deal." 
 
 "Hm, hm!" muttered the soldier. 
 
 I 
 
 "And money and — " I 
 
 "Will the city be plundered?" 
 "Of course! The inhabitants are heretics." ^ 
 "Be it so then," cried the soldier. "We will put 
 on the cursed cowls, but only until — " 
 "Until you are in the monastery." 
 "And when do we set out?" > ' ' 
 
 "This very night, when all are asleep." 
 "Together?" ' ■ ■ ' 
 
 "God forbid! That would attract attention. They 
 keep a sharp eye on us in the heretic's nest." ~~ 
 
 "How then? " i 
 
 "By twos. And in such a way that each of us real 
 monks has one of you with him. We will approach 
 the city by different roads and to-morrow, when it 
 grows dark, enter by different gates and at various 
 hours." , ! 
 
 "Done!" cried the soldier, clasping the hand the 
 monk extended. "i 
 
 "Come down now," said the latter, "and arrange the 
 business with your men." • ^ 
 
 The monks soon departed, one of them carrying "1 
 large bag on his back. 
 
 ^^^^^MLMs^^^m 
 
■ ■'-!^SF'r;^;^^^gr'ri''V~~x:^^S!S^^T^^^f^^/rz:na_ -r . -i^- ■"_■•■ 
 
 ■■^^~ 
 
 THE DISCOVERY 
 
 299 
 
 Fifteen minutes after the soldiers marched away 
 singing merrily. 
 
 But a young peasant also glided out of the hay-loft 
 and followed the soldiers. He was pale and looked 
 very much agitated. 
 
 Suddenly he paused. 
 
 In an opening in the forest, now illumined by the 
 moonlight, a merry scene was taking place — it seemed 
 as if people were preparing for a carnival. Monks' 
 dresses were drawn from a bag, and amid jests and 
 laughter, and smothered curses, put on by the soldiers. 
 
 The young peasant stood still some time, listening 
 intently; then he too turned hastily towards S trass- 
 burg. 
 
 S 'jSA.^m^i^'j*!^Kjitilif^ 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE SUPERIOR OF THE FRANCISCANS. 
 
 Quiet and still as if lifeless, the Franciscan monas- 
 tery stood in the heart of busy Strassburg. The 
 crowds thronged around it, but the surging torrent 
 broke against the gray old walls, gloomy as if mourning 
 in sack cloth and aslies. like the fierce waves of the 
 sea when they dash upon the stone surface of a huge 
 cliff. 
 
 The walls rose high in the air, only pierced by a 
 few small windows barred with iron, whose panes had 
 long since grown dim, and behind which no human 
 face ever appeared. The great iron-bound gate, with 
 the figures of th(3 apostles carved in oak, now black 
 with age, scarcel}- permitted any human form to slip 
 in or out during the day, and when this did happen 
 it was a dirty, mendicant monk in haircloth gown 
 with a rope around his waist and sandals on his bare 
 feet — a Franciscan brother, who, according to the rules 
 of his order, was going out to beg. 
 
 The dull sound of a bell echoed through the build- 
 ing and a few moments after a small window was 
 cautiously opened. A monk's shaven crown appeared 
 
 und a hoarse voice asked tiie visitor's wishes. 
 
 300 
 
 ■-:•;/ ,; 
 
.':■_' '. : . ■ ' ■■• .-v '. ... 
 
 '.- ■' '' v 
 
 THE SUPERIOR OF THE FRANCISCANS , 3OI 
 
 •' "Why!" said tlie boy wlio bad rimg the bell, lookiiig 
 at the porter with a by no means remarkably intelli- 
 gent expression, "I'm to give this letter to the 
 superior." 
 
 "And from whom does it come?" 
 
 "Yon mnst see by tliaM" replied the ^'outh. handing 
 the letter to the porter and pointing to the seab 
 
 The movement revealed a pair of miiscular arms 
 and hands that seemed formed to use the hammer and 
 anvil— at any rate to deal blows. 
 
 The porter smiled with a well-satisfied air as he 
 looked at him and the seal. 
 
 The little door beside the huge gate opened and the 
 youth, at a sign from the porter, slipped through into 
 the monastery. 
 
 He was now standing in a dark passage, leading 
 through the front building, on either side of which 
 stone saints frowned stern 1\' upon him. A slight 
 shiver ran through his limbs. He felt as if he were in 
 a half church, half prison, and involuntarih' made the 
 sign of the cross on brow and breast. Holding his 
 cap in his hand and glancing timidl}' around as if he 
 feared at every step to jostle some monk, who half 
 naked and bleeding, was scourging himself to death. 
 he followed the porter. 
 
 The dark passage was passed. A second door at the 
 end opened and the two entered a spacious court-yard, 
 in the center of which stood the monastery. These 
 buildings were formed of huge stones, weather beaten. 
 
 flii'iMi«g}'^#a?Sftfia^fi*-S«^'^'<^!«*^^i»*s^^ 
 
"-CirC. 
 
 -^s'^5J^7«w^^ 
 
 302 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 and gray with age, and resembled a mediaeval fortress 
 rather than a monastery, , 
 
 When the principal building was reached, at a 
 signal made by the porter with the latch, a heavy 
 bolt was pushed back, the door half-opened, the porter 
 gave his companion to the care of a second monk, 
 exchanging a few words with him and then returned to 
 his post in the front building, while the porter of the 
 main edifice bolted the door behind the visitor and 
 motioned to him to follow. 
 
 They walked through long, vaulted passages, up 
 wide, stone steps, down dark corridors, on either side 
 of which, on the right and left, appeared at regular 
 distances the doors leading to the monks' cells. 
 
 At last the priest stopped before one of the doors, 
 told the young man to wait, and entered. 
 
 The youth repeated a "Pater Noster. " Then the 
 Franciscan returned and told him to enter the Right 
 Reverend Superior's presence. , 
 
 The superior of the Franciscan Monastery was 
 the very ideal of a monk; not tall, but with a muscu- 
 lar frame, firm outlines and a round, fat face, in which 
 a certain repulsive sensuality blended strangely with 
 hypocritical piety, while the flabby, wrinkled cheeks 
 as well as the drooping corners of the mouth gave his 
 countenance the stamp of infinite weariness. Yet at 
 times the lustreless, watery eyes flashed with a look 
 which might be commonplace malice, or the echo of 
 long-lost activity and energ}'. 
 
 n'?'fe%l-rt^Ti^i^^a>ii#t5ftt^^ 
 

 ._ . - THE SUrE UOR 0|- THK FK,\KCISCANS 303 
 
 He wore the coarse dress of the order, fastened 
 g^round his waist with a rope, and had on his bare feet 
 old, dirty sandals. 
 
 "The Lord bless you, my son," said the superior, 
 unctuously. 
 
 The youth bowed with pious awe. 
 
 'And what do yon bring us?" asked the Franciscan. 
 
 The young rnan handed the letter. 
 
 Father Bartolomeus took it; but instead of opening 
 it, looked at the stout, vigorous youth with a well- 
 satisfied smile. 
 
 "How old are J^ou?" he asked. 
 
 linn J. " •» 
 
 Twenty-six. 
 
 "A peasant?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Well," said the monk, "your arms are strong enough 
 for threshing." 
 
 The young man smiled. 
 
 "Do you like to deal blows?" 
 
 "In case of need, yes!" said the young peasant, show- 
 ing two rows of magnificent teeth. 
 
 "And what do you think while you beat the grain in 
 the threshing season?" 
 
 The youth shook his head as if to repel the idea of 
 thought while engaged in such an occupation. 
 
 "Well," resumed the superior, patting him kindly 
 on the shoulder, "I'll tell you what a good catholic 
 must think. He must think that the stalks lying be- 
 fore him are thick-headed heretics and he is to cnish 
 
 Ei&^atiB^fc 
 
^'¥-«^-;^'?fi;^f^>;i'33f^-Sf^>;l,:^''fr'E= pf ■ 
 
 304' A ROYAL ROBBER ■ i 
 
 .. - i " " - 
 
 them in the name of the holy Mother Church. Then 
 he will put all his strength into the blows, and the 
 piff, paff, puff — piff; paff, puff — will go on merrily." 
 
 The youth grinned again and nodded a joyful as- 
 *■ sent. 
 
 Father Bartolomeus opened the letter, cast a hasty 
 glance at its contents, and then thrust it into his pocket. 
 
 "Wliat are you going to do now? "asked the Super- 
 ior. 
 
 "Go back home, Reverend Sir." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "To lilkirch." 
 
 "And plow, sow and thresh again?" 
 les. \ - 
 
 "Suppose the Lord had destined you for something 
 greater?" 
 
 The young, man opened eyes and mouth He did 
 not understand what the monk meant. 
 
 "If Holy Mother Church and your Reverend Bishop 
 command 3'ou to return home to reap a harvest, that 
 will make you acceptable to God above all His ser- 
 vants — will you obey like a true servant and pious 
 Christian?" ^ 
 
 "If it is harvest time and our crops are ready — why 
 noi?" replied the peasant. 
 
 "The Lord's harvest is always ready," said the 
 f wperior, in a grave, dignified tone, "but the Lord's 
 liarvest is the destruction of the heretics." 
 
 "Yes,, yes," replied the 5outh, who, by dint of this 
 
THE SUPERIOR OF THE FRANCISCANS . 505 
 
 fanning of the flame of inbred fanaticism, began to 
 dimly comprehend the other's meaning, and whose fist 
 instantly clenched. 
 
 "So you will remain here now?" 
 
 "Here?" exclaimed the youth, evidently startled. 
 
 "Yes." replied the superior, "your bishop, the pious 
 Franz Egon, Prince of Furstenberg, commands you to 
 do so, in the name of God." 
 
 "But-" 
 
 "You are not to become a monk, calm yourself. 
 You are chosen by the Lord, with other faithful ser- 
 vants, to perform a great deed which will be pleasing 
 in His sight. You will learn when the right time 
 arrives in what it consists and how it is to be exe- 
 cuted. Now God and the holy church, your bishop 
 and I require from you unconditional obedience. Will 
 you give it? Or will you be cursed by the church 
 and condemned forever?" 1 
 
 "Mere}', mercy!" cried the peasant, falling on his 
 knees before the monk, while every feature expressed 
 anxiety and terror. 
 
 "So you will obey?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And will you swear unconditional obedience to me?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Then swear!" 
 
 And the Franciscan with great solemnity and threat 
 of every conceivable punishment, administered to the 
 
 trembling peasant the required oath. 
 
 so Rohhrr 
 
-^'■''■^•■--'';^-^'-'<.f^^-^^^ 
 
 306 A ROYAL ROBBER i 
 
 "There!" said. Father Bartolomeus, turning to the 
 monk, "now take him away with you, he is consecrat- 
 ed to the service of the Lord and must be strength- 
 ened for the great deed by the consolations of life." 
 
 The monk beckoned and the peasant followed him. 
 But the poor fellow felt by no means at ease in the 
 gloomy monastery. If at hfs entrance it had seemed 
 half church, half prison, now in his excited imagination 
 it appeared wholly a dungeon. 
 
 And in fact the way by which he was led was not 
 calculated to dispel these terrors. Once more he 
 passed through long, gloomy passages, down dark, 
 stone stairs as if descending into the depths of the 
 earth. 
 
 And what was that? Was it not a distant cry? 
 Perhaps the moans of some prisoner or— a monk 
 scourging himself? i 
 
 Yet no. What was it then? It sounded almost 
 like a merry song. 
 
 The silent monk who led the way glanced at the 
 astonished peasant with a smile of amusement. By 
 Heavens! it sounded like a merry, drinking song, and 
 the noise grew louder. 
 
 Suddenl}' a cheer rang out. At the same moment 
 the Franciscan opened a heavy iron door and entered 
 a vaulted cellar with his companion. 
 
 In a vast cellar, whose vaulted ceiling rested on 
 short but thick stone pillars, and whose sides and ends 
 were invisible to the new-com.er's eyes since the faint 
 
■■ ^r-^f-^^^v^'.y?''*"^^,-; 
 
 - " , . ~ THE SUPERIOR OF THE FRANCISCANS 307 
 
 light of the few lamps burning left most of the wide 
 space in perfect darkness — was a motley assembly of 
 monks and soldiers. ' 
 
 There were few real m.onks; but many of the 
 soldiers, as if for a jest, wore the Franciscan dress, 
 carelessly thrown on so that here sturdy limbs clad in 
 leathern hose and huge boots, there a soldier's 
 doublet, a portion of a sword, or a broad shoulder- 
 belt, peeped forth, while others had put on. above the 
 monkish gown, the round militar}^ hat of the times. 
 
 At "the moment the young peasant was ushered by 
 his companion through the iron gate into this secret 
 monk's paradise, and stood motionless with astonish- 
 ment, a gigantic cask of wine formed the center of 
 the scene. Before it, his eyes radiant with happiness, 
 sat the monk in charge of the cellar. His face was 
 suffused with a deep, purple hue, his little eyes were 
 almost closed, but glistened with indescribable delight. 
 
 If, instead of the monk's robe, a tiger skin had been 
 wrapped around his body, no finer ideal of Bacchus 
 could have been found. And the worthy monk indus- 
 triously filled his beakers, handing them to the other 
 pious brothers or soldiers who were half sitting, half 
 lying about on the floor and smaller casks. There 
 were not a few thirsty throats here. 
 
 "Hurrah!" cried one of the soldiers, who seemed to 
 be of higher rank than the rest, raising his mug — 
 "Hurrah! Had I known the holy Francis was so good 
 a host, by all the saints. I would have donned the 
 cowl instead of taking the sword." 
 
lo8 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 "Or that he kept so good a cellar," cried another, 
 laughing. 
 
 "All honor to the holy Francis," said one of the 
 monks, pressing the mug of wine he held in his left 
 hand to his heart. 
 
 "Laugh on-- "said the Franciscan quietly. "We are 
 accustomed to mockery, like our great model. What 
 is taking place here to-da}' is only on account of your 
 unwashed faces and thirsty throats. " 
 
 "Yes," added another, "we usually strictly follow 
 the example of our illustrious founder." 
 
 "And how did he live?" asked one of the soldiers 
 laughing, as he held out his mug to be filled again. 
 
 "He divided his property among the poor," con- 
 tinued the monk, "wore like us a hair shirt next to., 
 his body, watched, prayed and fasted — " 
 
 Again the laugh burst forth. 
 
 "Often went out naked in the snow, " the monk went 
 on, "to mortify his flesh, and scourged himself three 
 times every night; once for himself, once for the sin- 
 ful world, and once for the poor souls in purgatory." 
 
 "The deuce!" cried the first speaker, "once would 
 have been enough for me." 
 
 "And I suppose you do all. that?" asked another, in 
 a jeering tone. 
 "Certainly!" 
 
 "But," cried a voice from a corner — "do you call it 
 poverty to have such cellars full of the best wine? Bs"^ 
 my sword, I don't understand how that is keeping 
 the vow of poverty." 
 
 ^:.ii:<uirjb££&^!. 
 
THE SUPERIOR OF THE FRANCISCANS 309 
 
 "It's very simple!" said the monk who had charge 
 of the wine, blinking happily, "each of us has taken 
 the vow of poverty for himself and keeps it strictly — 
 but, you simpleton, that doesn't prevent the monas- 
 tery from having property for itself." 
 
 "And so you, holy brothers, swallow all this mag- 
 nificent wine not for yourselves, but for the monas- 
 tery. " 
 
 "May the Lord be merciful to you sinners, ' said the 
 monk, with difficulty concealing his smile. "A drop 
 of wine rarely touches our tongues. Only to-da}^, and 
 in these times, we regale you sinful men in the name 
 of the monastery and holy Mother Church, to whoso 
 service you are consecrated." 
 
 "Yes" — said the monk, in whose charge the superior 
 had placed^ the peasant, 'and here is a uew recruit 
 He must strengthen himself here to-day, and to-mor 
 row be taught the military drill; he knows how to 
 deal blows already. " 
 
 "Bravo!" cried all. 
 
 But the poor fellow was almost bewildered. Not 
 until he had been almost compelled to swallow half a 
 mug of wine did he awake from his stupor and feel 
 a different spirit aroused within him. 
 
 The voices constantly grew harsher, the songs wilder 
 the jests broader. It was nat only the newly arrived 
 youth who now, with his back resting against a cask, 
 and rigid limbs, sat motionless, gazing with staring 
 eyes into vacancy, a victim of the excellent, wine the 
 
-■?* 
 
 3IO A ROYAL ROBBER i -, - 
 
 monk so lavishly poured into large mugs; older men 
 — soldiers who had seen many lands and peoples, and 
 won many battles with the wine-cup as well as the 
 sword — bearded men inured to drink — had already been 
 conquered by the wine-god. 
 
 But while the merry-making was going on in this 
 subterranean paradise of monks, the pious father 
 superior was engaged in very different affairs. 
 
 Not ten minutes had elapsed when the footsteps of 
 a monk were heard coming down the long dark corridor. , : 
 
 The superior instantly threw himself on his knees 
 before the picture, seized his rosary and began to pray 
 aloud: \ 
 
 "Pater noster — ' 
 
 Two minutes after the door opened and -another - 
 priestly figure entered. ; 
 
 It was a tall, proud form that wore the Franciscan 
 dress, a form which the first glance showed was not 
 accustomed to the garb. The features were strongly 
 marked; the shape and delicacy of the hands and feet 
 betrayed aristocratic origin; the eyes sparkled with i 
 intellect, but also cunning, nay a certain gloomy ex- 
 pression, i 
 
 When the new-comer saw the superior kneeling and 
 praying so devoutly, he could not for' the moment 
 repress a scornful smile; but it was only a moment 
 that the sarcastic expression rested upon the hand- ? 
 some countenance — it quickly regained its former * 
 grave dignity. 
 
 
THE SUPERIOR OP THE FRANCISCANS 3II 
 
 "Don't let me disturb you in the performance of 
 your sacred duties, hoi}' father/' said the new-comer. 
 "I'll wait quiet]}' till you have finished. Only I 
 must remove this disguise which is no longer neces- 
 sary and very oppressive. " 
 
 With these words, he threw back, with ill-concealed 
 repugnance, the Franciscan robe and beside the kneel- 
 ing superior stood Franz Egon, Prince of Fiirstenberg, 
 Bishop of Strassburg. - 
 
 The superior finished his prayers, and rising, ap- 
 proached the bishop whom he greeted with great 
 respect. 
 
 "Pardon me for keeping you waiting, your lordship," 
 said he, "but the rules of the Franciscan order are 
 strict and severe." 
 
 "But the men who obey it with so much faithful- 
 ness and punctuality as,yourself are all the more holy 
 and devout," replied Franz Egon with a slight shade 
 of sarcasm, 
 
 "That which is the ardent wish and desire of our 
 hearts," exclaimed the monk emphatically, "becomes 
 a happy pastime." 
 
 He kissed the scourge that hung by his side. 
 
 "And can we now finish our important consultations," 
 asked the bishop. "My secret residence of a week in 
 your monastery will end to-morrow. I must return to 
 France. The fruit is ripe, it must fall." 
 
 "The most Reverend Lord Bishop has but to com- 
 mand! " replied the superior. 
 
^7 ■* i^\v^- ::r7*'^5]^- 
 
 312 A RuVAL KobB£K • i 
 
 "Are we unheard?" 
 
 'As usual. " i 
 
 "Weil then the preparations for taking the city by 
 surprise are all made. ' 
 
 "Will the handful of men—" 
 
 "How many have you received into the monastery?" 
 
 "Sixty-five." . - ' 
 
 "Very well, within the next few days, twice that 
 number, clad in every conceivable disguise, will arrive. " 
 
 "But tne maintenance?" 
 
 "Has already been assured by France, and you know 
 that while under the present heretical government 
 your monastery is only a shadow, it will rise — when 
 Strassburg is again a catholic city — to the first rank. 
 
 "But Vi'hat can this handful of men do in great 
 German Strassburg?" 
 
 "Gently," replied the bishop, with a proud, confident 
 smile, "this handful of stout fellows, who do not fear, 
 and would tight the devil himself, should we command, 
 will not be alone. Gunzer has an equal number. 
 They are real fanatics, will not spare the babe at its 
 mother's breast, and, if necessary, wade through seas 
 of blood for holy Mother Church." 
 
 "But the citizens and soldiers in the employ of the 
 magistrates?" 
 
 "The citizens are poorly armed, badly disciplined, 
 and partly ours. The soldiers are simply paid mer- 
 cenaries, who have grCTwn lazy and comfortable in 
 peace." 
 
-"^^^^^^;^^^rJ:^^yii^S'.:.f^^ _ 
 
 THE SUPERIOR OF THE FRANCISCANS 313 
 
 "But their commander?" 
 
 "Herr von Jenneggen?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Has also been won over to our side. But that 
 is not all; at the right hour, 30,000 men under General 
 Montclar will appear before the city as if they had 
 dropped from the clouds," 
 
 "I don't understand." 
 
 "Leave that to us, worthy father; to me, Louvois 
 and the brave general I have just mentioned. You 
 have to do as follows: Conceal the troops that have 
 already arrived and receive those yet to come." 
 
 "But what more? Ws have already provided for 
 what you have just mentioned." 
 
 "When the right time comes — when the hour has 
 struck, the necessary leader for the troops will ap- 
 pear." 
 
 "And how am I to know him?" 
 
 "By a letter and seal from my own hand." 
 
 "Very well." 
 
 "Then Giinzer, who already has the majority of the 
 magistrates under his control will manage some way 
 to produce an outbreak at a meeting that has been 
 prolonged until late at night. When this occurs our 
 men will cry treason. The force Giinzer has stationed 
 in readiness will break in, arrest Frantz and his fol- 
 lowers or cut them down if they resist. At the same 
 time the resolute men concealed in your convent will 
 rush out and take possession of the two principal 
 
314 A ROVAI* ROBBER 1 , 
 
 gates of the city. Gunzer has arranged to have fire 
 break out in several houses to occupy the attention of 
 the citizens and scatter them. Other signals will be 
 made to the French cavalry; each man will take a 
 foot soldier on the horse behind him; and before the 
 citizens can assemble, before the city can recover from 
 the surprise and terror, our men will be upon the 
 walls of Strassburg." 
 
 "God grant it," said the superior. "But if the 
 plan should fail, what will bcome of us and our mon- 
 astery? " 
 
 "The Franciscan Order is not subject to any civil 
 tribunal and — France is strong and grateful enough to 
 reward brave allies for what they were ready to do for 
 her. " 
 
 "Then let the affair take its own course as God 
 wills!" exclaimed the superior. Oar object is to tear 
 Strassburg from the accursed heretics. The Eternal 
 Trinity and the Holy Virgin will give us their bless- 
 ing." 
 
 "They will!" said the bishop solemnly, "they will, 
 to that I say amen." 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE STAR OF LIFE. 
 
 The appreciation and longing for domestic happiness 
 was nowhere deeper than in the family of Syndicus 
 Frantz. 
 
 It was really beautiful to see how father, mother 
 and daughter lived for and in each other. 
 
 But it was a pleasure to see how Hedwig and Alma 
 vied with each other in the performance of household 
 duties, the warm, sympathizing affection, with which 
 both clung to the beloved husband and father. 
 
 Alma did not despair, though her heart was often 
 very heavy. She had inherited the character of her 
 father, who understood how, by firm principle, to 
 keep what is unlovely, painful and confused in life 
 within the narrowest limits, that space might be ob- 
 tained for clear, free life. 
 
 But it required a firm, resolute character like hers 
 not to lose courage; for affairs in Strassburg were be- 
 coming more and more confused, party strife more 
 violent, attacks upon her father more bitter, the 
 opposite party — with Gunzer at its head — was incom- 
 prehensibly gaining more and more adherents among 
 the magistrates. 
 
 315 
 
■«i<yjnC;«iS*5^ ^^ -P J'''\^ " 
 
 316 A ROYAL R0I5BER 
 
 Moreover the gulf between the Zedlitz family and 
 her own constantly grew wider, as the old gentleman's 
 time serving and leaning towards Catholicism became 
 more and more marked. 
 
 Besides, of late — and this was the heaviest blow to 
 Alma — Wenck had ceased to have any news of Hugo; 
 nay, since yesterday, a mysterious rumor had spread 
 through Strassburg, the news that Wenck had myste- 
 riously disappeared. 
 
 The little man had been last seen at the meeting in 
 the assembly-room of the tailor's guild, but he did not 
 return home that night and had not been seen in 
 Strassburg. 
 
 The excitement was great. Wenck had hated the 
 Giinzer faction, hated France — at the assembly he had 
 aided his fellow citizens to take a decided step — was it 
 not possible that his enemies had puthimout of the way? 
 The matter made Syndicus Franz very uneasy; for 
 he was sincerely attached to the comical and yet capa- 
 ble little man. 
 
 It was therefore no marvel that now — evening had 
 closed in — he returned from his office and entered the 
 room with a clouded brow. 
 
 The mother and daughter were startled on hearing 
 the news that the little tailor, Wenck, was missing. 
 Alma turned deadly pale. Wenck was the only 
 person with whom Hugo maintained any communica- 
 tion, through Wenck alone had she sometimes received 
 news of him. y 
 
 i-.-,j")rlgE^i: 
 
 
THE STAR OF LIFE 317 
 
 The fears her father expressed about his disappear- 
 ance alarmed her still more. It seemed as if the fate 
 of both men were connected, and any misfortune that 
 befell Wenck must be an evil omen for her absent 
 lover. 
 
 If she could only have confessed her love to her 
 parents and hoped for their kind consent, it would 
 have relieved her tortured heart; for the anxiety of 
 this poor little heart was increased by the conscien- 
 tious scruples caused by the secret of her love. 
 
 Alma, dear, good child, had never before had a 
 secret from her beloved parents. Her whole nature, 
 her acts and movements were open to their eyes which 
 were accustomed to look into the depths of her pure 
 soul as if it were the bottom of a crystal lake. 
 
 But just for this very reason, this first concealment 
 of anything, this first secret from her parents, seemed 
 to Alma a heavy sin. And this burden increased in 
 the same proportion as her rising anxiety for her lover. 
 
 Anxious as Hedwig was, it did not escape her 
 maternal e3'e that some heavy grief was oppressing 
 Alma. Alma's color varied rapidly from red to pale. 
 Her self-command almost deserted her at the thought 
 that her mother might have guessed, discovered her 
 secret. She trembled from head to foot. Breath and 
 speech failed and large tears filled her beautiful eyes. 
 Hedwig' s eyes had also grown dim. Bending gently 
 towards her daughter, she laid her hand on hers and 
 said tenderl}- : 
 
m: 
 
 
 t _ 
 
 318 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 "Alma, my dear child, I have noticed for a long 
 time that 3'ou were hiding some heavy sorrow in your 
 heart. " 
 
 "Mother!" gasped the young girl, in great embar- 
 rassment. 
 
 "I know, the mother continued, "that the fate which 
 threatens your native cit}^, whose existence, already 
 numbered by centuries, is now imperiled, lies very 
 near your heart, I know your faithful, loving nature, 
 which grieves over the many hard trials your father is 
 forced to undergo. My mother-heart tells me that 
 there must be something else passing in your mind, 
 something which of late has utterly robbed you of 
 your former calmness, your unclouded cheerfulness. I 
 know there is no room for aught of evil in your soul, 
 so tell me, my child, what is it that so grieves you, 
 causes so many secret struggles?" 
 
 "Mother!" faltered Alma, but a torrent of tears 
 choked her voice, and weeping bitterly, she hid her 
 face in Hedwig's lap. 
 
 Alma's sobs grew fainter and fainter. The mother 
 stooped and tenderly kissed the daughter's luxuriant 
 hair. ' 
 
 "Alma," she began, in a low, tender tone, "my dear 
 Alma, speak, speak freely. Candor is a great virtue. 
 Usually only those rich in other virtues possess it. I 
 am accustomed to find it in you." ' 
 
 "Come," Hedwig continued encouragingly, "many a 
 misfortune might not have occurred, if people had 
 
 
 .'^ :■-■>■- 
 
^"se^F-*- .^-T 
 
 ': THE STAR OF LIFE 319 
 
 had the courage to be frank — even when it was per- 
 haps necessary to 'confess an error, a false step." 
 
 Hedwig paused. A short silence ensued, then Alma 
 said gently: 
 
 "Yes, dear mother, I havie done something wrong 
 and will throw myself down before you and confess it." 
 
 Another silence followed. Hedwig was somewhat 
 startled. She smiled through her tears; an inner voice 
 said: "Your dear, good child cannot really have to 
 accuse herself of any wrong. " 
 
 She gently stroked her daughter's soft hair and 
 pressing a loving kiss upon her brow, whispered: 
 
 "Pour out your heart to your mother, my child; 
 your grief and your cares are mine." 
 
 Alma drew a long breath; the words inspired her 
 with wonderful courage. And now, while she hid her 
 blushing-face in her mother's lap, came the confession 
 of her love for Hugo von Zedlitz and tine still harder 
 one of her first and onl)' meeting with him. 
 
 When the daughter, still hiding her blushing face in 
 her hands and her mother's lap, had finished, the 
 latter said after a short silence: 
 
 "Dear child, you have certainly committed a great 
 error as well as a great imprudence. It was impru- 
 dent to give your heart to a man, with whose family 
 we stand on an extremely doubtful footing, nay, one of 
 almost positive enmity. But it was a great error not 
 to sooner reveal your feelings to j'our parents— at least 
 to your mother, whose love 3'ou well know. " 
 
 ;i^^SiaiSaiSt«ais!i«£;,^ 'i.-: . 
 
Ki-,-- 
 
 320 A ROVAI- ROBBER I 
 
 Amid tears and entreaties for forgiveness, Alma 
 acknowledged both accusations; but could she help 
 her love, the pure holy feeling of the warmest affec- 
 tion, which — without her will or knowledge —had 
 gradually taken root unnoticed in her heart? Was 
 she to blame because Hugo's patriotic feeling had pro- 
 duced so strong an impression upon her, that she was 
 compelled to esteem a youth whose worth was univer- 
 sally acknowledged, that some strange emotion had 
 drawn her with irrisistible power toward the noble, 
 handsome young man, who as a boy — in the happier 
 days when the Zedlitz and Frantz families were warm 
 friends-had been her daily companion? 
 
 Embarrassed — yet secretly sustained by the con- 
 sciousness of her innocence and the purity of her 
 love — Alma now eloquently represented all this to her 
 mother. 
 
 "And father?" asked Alma anxiously. 
 
 "Leave it to me, my child!" replied Hedwig, "to 
 find a fitting moment to confide your secret to him. 
 He must know it as well as I, then we will both dis- 
 cuss what is to be done." .. 
 
 Alma sighed heavily, threw her arms around "her 
 mother's neck and whispered: 
 
 "And you forgive me?" : 
 
 "Yes, my child, for I am sure tny Alma will hence- 
 forth have no secrets from her mother." 
 
 "And } ou don't condemn my love for Hugo?" 
 
 "I think it unwise that; under existing circumstances, 
 
ih£ «^TAR oi iirE 321 
 
 you should have yielded to it — but I will not condeUiU 
 it. The woman who has never felt the yearning of love, 
 knows not the holy spirit of faith and virtue. Love 
 is the strength and life of woman, her religion, her 
 most sacred duty, her highest glory." 
 
 "Mother, mother! How I thank you!" exclaimed 
 Alma, with an eager embrace, "you have given me 
 courage, strength, hope, you have restored the happi- 
 ness of my life. ' 
 
 "Then guard it in your pure, faithful heart," said 
 the mother, "and pray God to direct this affair to a 
 happy issue for all. " 
 
 Alma followed her mother's advice. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE DELIVERER. 
 
 Giinzer was at home. There was no meeting of the 
 magistrates that morning, yet he sat in his private study 
 engrossed in business. 
 
 The net in which Strassburg was to be imprisoned 
 at a single pull grew smaller and smaller; but the 
 nearer the day approached the more impatient and 
 urgent became his French patrons, Louis XIV and his 
 all powerful minister, Louvois. ' 
 
 Franz Egon, Prince of Fiirstenberg and Bishop of 
 Strassburg, could also hardly wait for the time, when 
 he could enter Strassburg and its cathedral as their 
 ecclesiastical master. 
 
 What a double victory — for Rome and France — he 
 would then celebrate. 
 
 But a better part had been assigned to the Lord 
 Bishop than to Giinzer; while the latter was in the 
 very crater of the conspiracy, Franz Egon remained 
 far away in his episcopal palace; while Giinzer was 
 exposed to all the changes of a capricious destiny, and 
 had to use the utmost cunning to steer the ship of 
 State through the countless rocks, surrounded by treason 
 
 and peril--the bishop directed affairs at his ease from 
 
 323 ! 
 
 '^T^-.'^^i^i.^cJfgLi (!?*:?" 
 
THE DELIVERER 323 
 
 his arm-chair, while drawing the pleasures of life to 
 the last drop. 
 
 Gtinzer possessed an unusual capacity for labor. 
 His office as clerk occupied much of his time and 
 yet he also had to maintain an extensive secret cor- 
 respondence with Louvois and the Bishop of Strass- 
 burg, attend to the dangerous task of bribing tiic 
 magistrates and influential citizens, manage the nego- 
 tiations with the superior of the Franciscan monastery, 
 in a word, direct the whole conspiracy. 
 
 Gunzer only allowed himself three or four hours 
 rest at night; during the day not a moment was unoc- 
 cupied. He had but one recreation, the thought of 
 the sums already obtained — the bribe money so lavishly 
 sent by France— and the calculation of the honor and 
 power to which he would rise by giving up his native 
 city to the French king? Would he not instantly be 
 given power to crush his enemies — above all the 
 Frantz family— and trample them in the dust? 
 
 But the pressure of business now left him little 
 time for such pleasures — they were principally con- 
 nected with Alma who had so coldly rejected his suit 
 — the conspiracy was to break out in a few days. The 
 Franciscan monastery was already filled with stout 
 men, and his own soldiers had also been secretly 
 admitted in disguise and placed in secure quarters. 
 
 Gunzer was daily expecting the last decisive com- 
 mand from Louvois. A letter from the French gen- 
 eral, Montclar, had just arrived. In it General 
 
 \ . ..s2l Si2SuM^<nl'jJc!»riiL.i.'ili. . 
 
3-^4 A ROYAL ROBBEK j 
 
 Montclar announced that he was approaching Strass- 
 burg with a considerable force. Giinzer and the supe- 
 rior must hold themselves in readiness. The surprise, 
 however, must appear as if it had come from the 
 citizens, since the Most Christian king wished to 
 avoid any apparent deed of violence. His entrance into 
 Strassburg after the work was done, must have the 
 semblance of hastening to the aid of Strassburg in 
 response to the summons of its worthy inhabitants. 
 
 Giinzer was still occupied in deciphering this letter, 
 when his servant announced the commandant of the 
 city, Herr von Jenneggen. 
 
 He hastily concealed the despatch, while he sent 
 word to the officer to enter. 
 
 "Welcome, Herr von Jenneggen!" he exclaimed, ad- 
 vancing to meet his visitor. "What gives me the 
 pleasure of a visit from you at this unusual hour?" 
 
 "I think It my duty, Herr Giinzer, to call your atten- 
 tion to an incident which has aroused my suspicions. 
 You know my interest in the welfare of Strassburg," 
 
 "You have given ample proofs of it." 
 
 "Well, the times are difficult, the situation of the 
 city is critical." 
 
 "Certainly! Because foolish men, in their passion 
 are blind to its real welfare. 
 
 'But who can tell to what passion will lead, 
 especially in politics?" 
 
 "Do we not see this in our so-called patriots?" 
 
 "We understand each other, Herr Giinzer." 
 
gj!^,?;s»-?!5:i:r- 
 
 THE DELIVERER 325 
 
 Giinzer smiled. He knew wh}' Herr vonjenneggeii 
 had lately received through Frischmann — in conse- 
 quence of Giinzer' s influence at the French court — a 
 valuable snuff-box set with diamonds, and a commis- 
 sion for his son in the French army. 
 
 "I therefore think it my duty," continued the officer, 
 "to redouble my watchfvilness in these dangerous times. 
 The reports of the sentinels at the gates are suspicious. " 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 "An unusually large number of Franciscan monks 
 and workmen are entering the city." 
 
 Giinzer could scarcely conceal his embarrassment. 
 The disguised men were doubtless those concealed in 
 the monastery and quarters selected by him and he 
 dared not give even jenneggen any information on this 
 subject. 
 
 The officer's position was still doubtful. He was 
 yet in the service of the city, and had sworn allegi- 
 ance to her. 
 
 "And could there be anything suspicious in that," 
 he asked with apparent indifference. "It is probably 
 mere accident." 
 
 "That is scarcely possible! " observed the officer, 
 dawing a package of papers from his breast pocket. 
 "Here are the reports of the last week from the gates. 
 Be kind enough to examine them yourself." 
 
 Giinzer, who was really not a little perplexed, bent 
 over the papers to conceal the anxiety that could not 
 fail to be expressed in his features. 
 
 ...JteE r:ii-'^*j-3r.^.=--,'^'^*..-«?-::SJ *^iJF;s^.^:a.!*^H^h^ -mJ*^ . .-aa*i-.-.»s._.^iteai*.rf^_ ,yL», S5*i/. ^i.,.-±ra_'!E . 
 
326 A noVAL ROTiBFR . i 
 
 "See," continued the zealous officer, "everyday, at 
 every gate, Franciscan monks entered, and the mon- 
 astery contains only a few— while workmen — -— " 
 
 "Of what trade?" I 
 
 "Principally tailors. " 
 
 "Tailors? And do they find work?" i 
 
 "At once apparently; for none went out,'* 
 
 "My dear Herr von Jenneggen," said Gunzer, who 
 meantime had completely regained his self-command, 
 "accept, in the name of our good city, the thanks due 
 your zeal. But it seems to me that this is a mere 
 accident. Nevertheless I will keep the reports and 
 place them before the magistrates. You will, until 
 then, have the kindness to maintain strict silence in 
 regard to the affair." 
 
 "Certainly," replied Herr von Jenneggen, rising- 
 "I merely came to do my duty." i 
 
 The two gentlemen bowed to each other and the 
 officer left the room. Gunzer accompanied him to the 
 stairs; but when once more in his room, said angrily: 
 
 "Simpleton! That confounded snuff-box has made 
 him so zealous that he was on the point of discovering 
 and betraying our conspirac3^ As if it were not my 
 affair and that of the guardians of the people." And 
 he returned to General Montclar's letter. 
 
 But Syndicus Frantz was engaged at the same time 
 with an extremely important missive which had reached 
 his hands in a very mysterious way. He found it in his 
 room, but no one in the house knew who had brought it. 
 
THE DF.LTVERER 327 
 
 But it was not how the paper had come there which 
 principall}' surprised the Sj'ndicus, its contents made 
 his hair stand on end. In short, it revealed to his 
 horror, a conspiracy against Strassburg. 
 
 The lines ran as follows: 
 
 "Treachery threatens Strassburg. The enemies of 
 our native city have smuggled large numbers of soldiers 
 into the Franciscan monastery where they are now 
 concealed. The conspirators, who are in league with 
 others outside, may break forth at any moment. The 
 manner and time in which tlie plot is to be executed, 
 the writer of these lines does not know. But the whole 
 can and will be baffled if the monaster}^ can be cap- 
 tured; this however must be speedily and secretly 
 done. The writer of this letter, a true patriot, eager 
 for the welfare of Strassburg, his native city, will 
 therefore undertake the venture with a few trusted 
 friends tomorrow night at eleven o'clock, and please 
 God, execute the task, even if he should sacrifice his 
 life. Prepare to keep an insurrection of the evil-dis- 
 posed confined within the limits of the city. You will 
 find armed allies at the assembly room of the tailor's 
 guild at ten o'clock to-morrow evening. Take them 
 to- the monastery as noiselessly as possible, that they 
 may afford us help in case of need. Love and our 
 native land! is the countersign. Nothing must be 
 done publicly, neither magistrates nor armed power 
 called upon for aid, or all will be lost. May God 
 strengthen and protect us." 
 
 ^_i£^r:£.'iJifJfS^-^.^^>i&i!^iii^iiJ^ilL^.^^^ 
 
■-■ >- ^».»-' T> r-s-^yi^^^ 
 
 328 A pnVAL ROBBFR [. ' 
 
 i 
 
 When Frantz had read these lines, he stood rigid with 
 amazement and terror. Could it really be true, could 
 treachery have approached so near hapless Strassburg? 
 The affair looked probable, the monks were implicated, 
 so doubtless was the Bishop of Strassburg. i 
 
 But 3^et? Might not the letter be a snare to Involve 
 the Syndicus in some mad venture? Might not his 
 enemies be trying to compromise him? i - 
 
 After a period of calm reflection, he no longer enter- 
 tained a doubt of what was to be done. i 
 
 The same hour the S3mdicus hastened to a secret 
 consultation with his most trusted friends and allies. 
 
 The evening of the following day closed in upon 
 Strassburg. The day itself had passed like any other 
 in the same routine of occupation and business. i 
 
 "Watch!" said a little man wrapped in a dark cloak 
 and with a broad-brimmed hat on his head, who stood 
 at a street corner — directly opposite the Franciscan 
 monastery — to another figure. "Watch! It's just strik- 
 ing nine, a couple come every evening at this hour. 
 Are our men on the watch?" ; 
 
 The second figure pointed to another street corner, 
 but It was too dark to see anything distinctly. 1 
 
 A death-like silence brooded over the street. Aris- 
 ing storm had driven people to their houses, and 
 moreover, according to a good old custom, every re- 
 spectable citizen sought his home before nine o'clock. 
 
 Suddenly both started in surprise. ] 
 
 It seemed as if they heard strange sounds from the 
 monastery. 
 
 - ^ \- .ie-.Z.-r'fr-.i-x'-ir-^ 
 
1a^?S^: V *itf -^' ■? 
 
 THE DELIVERER 329 
 
 "What's that?" whispered the shorter of the two, 
 
 "Singing," replied the other. 
 
 The sounds seemed to come from a long, long dis- 
 tance, almost as if out of a subterranean chamber. 
 
 "That is in the monastery," the little man began. 
 
 "It almost seems so — and yet that is impossible." 
 
 "Deuce take me," whispered the the little man, "if 
 that isn't one of our wildest drinking songs!" 
 
 "And yet it comes from the monastery?" 
 
 "Why not? They think the world is asleep and are 
 celebrating a jolly revel with their comrades the 
 soldiers, in the vaults below the building." 
 
 "In the monaster}'? ' 
 
 "Oh! innocence. As if the Evil One with all his 
 crimes did not have his favorite abode in monasteries." 
 
 ■ Oh! shame," cried the younger, "these false saints 
 unite all other vices to the crime of treason." 
 
 "It is bad enough that such should be the case 
 with the standard bearers of the Christian religion," 
 said the other. 
 
 "Who knows what good it may do!" rejoined the 
 little man. "To us for instance this singing of disso- 
 lute, drinking songs can onl}- be welcome." 
 
 "Why so?" 
 
 "Because I am firmly convinced that we shall find 
 the whole nest, monks and soldiers in the deepest in- 
 toxication." 
 
 "That would certainly be well — it might spare much 
 blood-shed. " 
 
 
,-TV^>_-^— r '^T^^'-'yv^^^^. - 
 
 330 A ROYAL ROBBER j 
 
 I 
 
 "I know that, I know soldiers and monks from the 
 campaigns I have fought. With one it is blows and 
 then robbery, burning, carousing — with the other 
 prayers and then — the same thing only in a different 
 way. " 
 
 "Hush!" said the other. "I think I hear footsteps.' 
 
 "Now is the time, "whispered the little man, giving 
 a low whistle. x\t the same moment the two muffled 
 figures moved forward, so that anyone who entered 
 the monastery would be obliged to pass close by them. 
 
 Almost at the same instant two dark figures turned 
 the corner of the street. 
 
 Not until they were close to the muffled forms did 
 the latter perceive that they were two Franciscan 
 monks. 
 
 "Blessed be the holy Francis," said the 3'ounger. 
 
 "Amen!" replied two, deep, harsh voices. 
 
 "Are you going into the monastery, dear brother?" 
 
 The figures were silent, apparently perplexed. 
 
 "Aha! " said the young man, "the wolveb are already 
 in the trap." He repeated his question in the French 
 language. 
 
 It was now understood and answered in the affirma- 
 tive. 
 
 "Then follow me," said the muffled figure. 
 
 At the same instant a second low whistle was heard. . 
 
 "What's that?" asked one of the monks in his native 
 language. But he had not finished the question when 
 he and his comrade \vere seized by powerful arms and 
 
 i..»iii»ii&».« ,« .^ .», .. 1 - "., 1.1 :, .ir5i;;vi.%i. ^ii;«.^'«;.,-itfi»jiCniiiaiiitA'^5ii 
 

 THE DELIVERER 331 
 
 at the same Instant gags were thrust into the mouths 
 of both. 
 
 The result of the capture showed two well-armed 
 Frenchmen concealed under the monks' cowls. 
 
 Far away as if from the depths of the earth rose the 
 smothered notes of merry drinking songs. It was now 
 pouring in torrents, and darkness, deep, silent night 
 brooded over everything. 
 
 Hugo von Zedlitz and Wenck — for it was they who 
 had captured the two French soldiers disguised as 
 Franciscan monks — now went, followed by their pris- 
 oners and the armed citizens who guarded them, to a 
 side street. Here stood an old, gloomy, dilapidated 
 house, to which nothing could be more welcome than 
 such a dark, rainy night as the present, since in the 
 light of day it must have been ashamed of itself even 
 among the modest houses in the neighborhood. The 
 owner of the house was one of Wenck's friends, also 
 a tailor and good patriot, and now a confederate. 
 Hugo and Wenck had formed a conspiracy since" the 
 night they met at the Snake's Hole. 
 
 Wenck was surprised and perplexed at the danger 
 threatening his native city, but like Hugo himself, 
 quickly resolved at any cost and the exposure of his 
 own life, to sav^ Strassburg by prompt action. 
 
 Both men instantly perceived the difficulty of the 
 task. All that was to be done must be performed 
 without the knowledge and aid of the authorities for 
 the greater portion of these magistrates were not to 
 
 ^.■•-«n.*^i^">Su£. . i«-.Il>3^>r^.r:iT.l_^L.>-U».i..< 
 
332 . A ROVAL ROHHKK ' > 
 
 be trusted, nay it was even to be supposed that Gunzer, 
 together with the whole French party, belonged to 
 the plot. 
 
 Thus poor Strassburg was robbed of her natural de- 
 fenders; for though Syndicus Frantz and the patriots 
 could be relied upon, it was to be anticipated that if 
 the affair became known, the superior of the Francis- 
 can monastery would instantly hear of it and be on 
 liis guard. 
 
 Thus the government must be left out of the ques- 
 tion — the existence of the city was threatened and 
 must be saved, so what remained save independent 
 action. 
 
 Hugo von Zedlitz and Wenck were the right men 
 for this. 
 
 But could they alone capture the nest of treason in 
 which a large number of well-armed soldiers was con- 
 cealed? Strong support was needed; the aid of a large 
 number of patriotic men and also — stout arms. 
 
 This is wli}' Wenck disappeared. But if he became 
 invisible to the public he was by no means inactive. 
 The little tailor worked in the darkness like a mole 
 and soon almost tlie whole tailor's guild was in the 
 couspirac}' Vi'itli liim. 
 
 But Wenck did still more; as soon as he was sure 
 of a number of patriots, he glided, supplied with all 
 the money he could raise on his -house and little 
 property, into the country. Here he gained fresh 
 allies^ whoiii he sent, lo Strassburg under the pretext 
 
 «;;Lj«StS 
 
. ■ <"" J""i '"-■. >-" -■'".' " - : '■ - ^ ■ ' 
 
 . THE DELIVERER 333 
 
 that they were tailors looking for worlc in the city. 
 
 Each one had the address of some tailor, who in- 
 stantly set him to work, while secretly procuring the 
 necessary weapons. 
 
 The plan formed by Hugo and Wenck did not re- 
 quire an}' regularly organized military force, only a 
 number of strong, brave men. 
 
 This was the reason that the zealous commander of 
 the city, Herr von Jenneggen, had noticed in the 
 reports sent from the gates the large number of tailors 
 seeking work. 
 
 So the plot had matured. Hugo undertook its exe- 
 cution. The monastery must be surprised, the monks 
 and superior placed in custod}', the French soldiers 
 taken prisoners or slain. 
 
 Wenck's discovery that every evening at nine 
 o'clock, two soldiers disguised as monks were smug- 
 gled into the monastery, was an important one. Hugo 
 formed his whole plan upon this fact. 
 
 If these men— who undoubtedly possessed a pass- 
 word — fell into his hands, this password and the 
 Franciscan dresses would procure him and a com- 
 panion admittance. If he could once gain an entrance 
 through the outer gate, the rest of the affair caused 
 him no anxlet}'. 
 
 The disguised monks were in his hands. In their 
 pockets papers were found among which was one con- 
 taining the desired password. 
 
 They might now set out, especially as S5'ndicus 
 
 iii*.;;-..-.!r_.-...*.isi*,t 
 
5!»«!5JSSJ?^^ 
 
 334 A ROYAL ROBBER . 
 
 Frantz had been informed of everything by the secret 
 letter. Hugo and Wenck knew they could rely upon 
 him. 
 
 By his mediation the patriotic magistrates were 
 ready with their followers to take prompt measures 
 in case their aid was needed. Almost the whole 
 tailor's guild, well armed and ready for battle, was in 
 the assembly-room with the Syndicus. 
 
 Yet nothing was seen or lieard of all this. Strass- 
 burg seemed sunk in deep repose. Night and dark- 
 ness, rest and silence, surrounded it. 
 
 Eleven o'clock struck. Noiselessly as If they had 
 sprung from the earth, dark forms filled the streets 
 near the monastery, the nooks and angles of the houses. 
 
 The bell at the convent gate rang. 
 
 It was sometime before the little square window, cut 
 in the gate, slowly opened and a voice sleepily asked 
 who was disturbing the rest of the monastery at so 
 late an hour? 
 
 "Two sons of holy Francis." was the stammering 
 reph' of a monk in the French language. 
 
 "At this hour?" was returned in a tone of angry 
 surprise. 
 
 " Mort de 7na vie!" retorted the other, "we got as wet 
 as fish on our way to the city and stopped to refresh 
 our inner man. Parhleu! The devil take this masque- 
 rading. Open the gate, reverend brother, that we 
 may get rid of these cursed cowls. We're hungry 
 and thirsty too!" , 
 
 it. 
 
■■/■■ 
 
 •:^^^^!^^.^?y^^<Bi- y:^r^^ ■ . ; ^*^ 
 
 ~ - THE DELIVERER 535 
 
 His voice was that of a drunken man. 
 "Speak lower!" said the monk with evident anxiety. 
 "Pshaw!" replied the mock Franciscan loudly, "it's 
 dark, the dogs of citizens are asleep. What's the 
 use? Open." 
 
 The porter, scarcely aroused from a gentle shimber, 
 angry and yet afraid that some nocturnal pedestrian 
 or accidental passer-by might hear tliismore than sus- 
 picious conversation, was in the greatest perplexit}'. 
 
 He dared not turn the new-comers av/a}', the}- were 
 doubtless the men expected at nine o'clock, who had 
 been belated by the rain and drunkenness. Ever}^- 
 thing was endangered b}' their condition. 
 
 "And yet, in the darkness, who could tell that they 
 were the right ones? 
 
 "Let me feel your sleeve!" said the porter, putting 
 his hand out through the window. 
 
 He touched the rough, heavy cloth of the Franciscans. 
 
 "The pas^-word?" 
 
 "St. Croix de Bear]!" 
 
 This was correct, the porter uttered a sigh of relief. 
 
 He now had an undoubted right to admit them, and 
 once in the monastery there was no longer any danger 
 of treachery. 
 
 "Well? Will you be quick?" cried the drunken 
 soldier. 
 
 The keys at the monk's belt rattled. 
 
 At the same moment there was a low, almost inau- 
 dible whistle. 
 
'KT;>;|S;-«r,'-.'?^T3^i^= -;g^7s^a^^s^7^ -; , , ■,-,•.';;. 
 
 336 A^ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 Now the heavy bolt was pushed back, the key 
 turned, the little door opened. 
 
 But the drunken man must have leaned awkwardly 
 against it, he stumbled and fell upon the porter who, 
 starting back a little, caught him in his arms. 
 
 "Brother! " murmured the soldier, embracing the 
 monk with a strength that alarmed him. i 
 
 But ere he could utter a word his terror was to be 
 increased; for, with the speed of lightning, a gag was 
 thrust into his mouth, and ropes bound arms and feet. 
 He saw a throng of dark figures press through the 
 door entrusted to his care, then was dragged into the 
 inner court and laid face downward on the ground. 
 
 Soon a regular foot -fall showed that a sentinel was 
 pacing up and down beside him. 
 
 But Hugo and Wenck were obliged to repeat their 
 stratagem at the inner door. 
 
 Certain of success, they knocked; but to their terror 
 found that they had made an error in calculation. 
 
 According to the regulations of the monastery, it 
 was the duty of the porter at the outer door to an- 
 nounce all arrivals at the door of the building In the 
 courtyard. 
 
 Besides the cunning brother stationed there knew 
 that an}^ little noises made by drunken men within 
 the courtyard would cause no danger. 
 
 He therefore harshly repelled the expectation that 
 lie would open the door at so late an hour with the 
 words : 
 
 . ,. "S. -.i^J'.''-i-.Ji!L.fiS>jfe-*!^, j£-.t..^j^S»*';i j.j»»tiaffi*.anBW-._. 
 
■', - THE DELIVERKR 337 
 
 "Drunken vagabonds! Sleep off your carouse in the 
 open air." 
 
 The pretended monks raged. In vain, the porter 
 made no answer. 
 
 Hugo and Wenck were in no little perplexity. 
 
 What was to be done now? Hugo had not thought 
 of this. 
 
 He was discussing the matter with Wenck, when 
 the singing heard before echoed on their ears again, 
 only considerably nearer and more distinct. 
 
 Then Hugo, as if his patience were exhausted, ex- 
 claimed angrily: "Mori de ma vie!" and began to 
 ring the bell as if the monastery were on fire. 
 
 This produced an effect. The startled monk not 
 only opened the door, but the noise summoned the 
 superior, who crimson with anger, was pouring forth 
 a torrent of invectives when to his terror, he saw 
 both wings of the door pressed open, himself and the 
 porter surrounded and the wide space fille'd with 
 armed men. 
 
 All this was the work of a few seconds. 
 
 The superior and porter were also bound and gagged. 
 
 The way was opened; but now cunning was at an 
 end and the sword must speak. 
 
 A portion of the men, according to preconcerted ar- 
 rangement, took possession of the entrances. All the 
 others, sword in hand, followed Hugo and Wenck, 
 who had thrown off their troublesome disguises and 
 
 appeared arm,ed to the teeth. 
 
 S2 Rohher 
 
333 A. ROYAL ROBBER I 
 
 It was a motley throng, undisciplined, armed partly 
 with swords, partly with pikes and guns; but men 
 who had strong hands and brave hearts. ; 
 
 They moved quietly through the long, lonely corri- 
 dors. 
 
 The doors of most of the cells stood open, but 
 they were empty. From the distance, out of the 
 depths of the earth, the faint notes of singing were 
 heard. 
 
 Hugo and Wenck followed the sound. ! 
 
 It grew more and more distinct and the voices 
 seemed hoarser and wilder; songs, laughter and curses, 
 like some wild revel in a camp. 
 
 Words could now be clearly distinguished. 
 
 Hugo paused — they had only a flight of cellar stairs 
 to descend. 
 
 "Brothers, friends," he whispered, "all depends on 
 this moment. We do not know how many there are; 
 probably two to our one. But we do know that the 
 majority are old, trained soldiers, who understand how 
 to wield their blades, even when their heads are 
 heated with wine. We are only simple citizens or 
 plain workmen, but — we are fighting for a just cause, 
 against treason and rascality — this must give us 
 strength and courage. So forward, for God and our 
 native land! Strike down all who resist, dead ,or 
 alive, the whole troop must fall into our hands." 
 
 With these words Hugo kicked open the iron door~ 
 and, with the shout "For God and our native land," 
 
THE DELIVERER 339 
 
 he and his followers rushed upon the startled revelers. 
 
 But Hugo's anticipations had been correct; though 
 Friend Bacchus was celebrating a great triumph, and 
 heads were as heavy as throats were hoarse, the old 
 warriors had scarcely perceived flashing swords and 
 glittering weapons, than their own sabers flew frcnr 
 their sheaths and a desperate struggle began. 
 
 It was a wild, terrible scene. In the gloomy, 
 vaulted apartment, scarcely lighted by the flaring 
 torches, among huge casks, overthrown tuns and mugs, 
 here, where the ga3'est mirth had just prevailed, a 
 fierce conflict was now raging. Drunkenness and fury 
 distorted the faces of the combatants — death-like 
 pallor and terror were depicted on the countenance, of 
 the monks, who had all taken refuge between and 
 under the wine butts. 
 
 Already wounded and dying men* lay on the floor. 
 Hugo and Wenck fought like lions, but they and their 
 party were forced to give way more and more. 
 
 Now the}' were pressed to the stairs, now, still 
 fighting, were compelled to retreat towards the outer 
 corridor. 
 
 Hugo and Wenck fought in front and gave way 
 only step by step. Swords whizzed fiercely around 
 their heads — they paid no heed. More of their fol- 
 lowers fell wounded, they did not see it; death sur- 
 rounded them in a thousand forms — they did not care. 
 
 Yielding to superior numbers, they had now been 
 forced out of the cellar, the long corridors of the mon- 
 
 ■A ~■■■-t^J 
 

 340 A ROYAL ROBr.ER 
 
 astery were already echoing with the clank of swords 
 and the rattling of shots. . , 
 
 Then Hugo's ear caught the sound of bells ringing 
 an alarm from the steeples of the city. 
 
 The decisive moment had come, and with it, Syndi- 
 cus Frantz, at the head of the tailor's guild, that 
 would no longer be restrained, rushed into the mon- 
 astery. 
 
 Wild shouts of Joy greeted them. With redoubled 
 strength Hugo now pressed forward. The soldiers 
 gave way before his energy — a short resistance and 
 the monastery with all its inmates — dead and alive — 
 was in Hugo's hands. _ , 
 
g^S»^rp,|..2*S.- ,.-.^,, .,.^;-„ .,,_- ,::^, 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE HAPPINESS OF LOVE. 
 
 Of course on the following morning all Strassburg 
 knew what had occurred during the previous night. 
 The excitement was terrible. The wrath of the people 
 and their fury against the Franciscan monks knew no 
 bounds. 
 
 The magistrates, to prevent an attack upon the 
 monastery, were obliged to surround it with a guard 
 of soldiers. 
 
 Even the bishop was bitterly cursed; for every one 
 was morally certain that he had secretly formed and 
 directed the whole conspiracy. 
 
 It was fortunate for Giinzer that nobody suspected 
 his connection with the intended treason; the excited 
 citizens would surely have attacked his house and 
 hacked to pieces or hung the already hated man. 
 
 Of course Giinzer feigned the utmost indignation; 
 nay the first motion he made the following morning, 
 in the hastily convened session of the great council, 
 was the immediate expulsion of the Franciscan monks 
 from the city. 
 
 Giinzer, who was the very embodiment of cunning, 
 promised, as the city did not wish to be stripped of its 
 
 341 
 
..;\\ r^. *."-^7,^aP-^.:_^#^?JT;j^;-^?r?^*^7.rj^ f.-9^r^!Siifj^ffy;-^--'-- 
 
 342 A ROYAL ROBBER ! 
 
 few soldiers, to provide reliable people to serve as 
 the priests' escort. He kept his word and in this 
 way got rid of part of the men, whom in the bishop's 
 name, he had smuggled into Strassburg to aid in sur- 
 prising the city, and whose discovery now threatened 
 to betray his baseness and thus entail upon him de- 
 struction and death. 
 
 All Strassburg rang with young Zedlitz's praise, his 
 name ran from lip to lip. Every one now asserted 
 that he had always known and declared that Hugo 
 had been unjustl}' banished. 
 
 n the young man had appeared he would have been 
 greeted everywhere with loud acclamations. The 
 enthusiastic populace felt the utmost love for him 
 and little Wenck. But both were too wise and modest 
 to desire to celebrate such a triumph; nay Hugo, in 
 his nice sense of honor, insisted upon presenting him- 
 self before the magistrates as a condemned man. 
 
 And he actually executed this design early the fol- 
 lowing morning. 
 
 The perplexity he thus caused the Giinzer faction 
 was very great, especially when, as the rumor spread 
 abroad that the deliverer of the city, the innocent 
 exile, had given himself up to his enemies — the guilds 
 all assembled, and, led by the tailors, marched with 
 banners flying to the Rathhaus, loudly and violently 
 demanding the revocation of the sentence of banish- 
 ment and the release of their hero and favorite. 
 
 No course was left the Gunzer party except to put 
 
 . _i;/i.'.-ti C!-S- >K:£S^-.^r*'S-'-&- iC'iSSs. ~ 
 
~?»^< 
 
 ^ 
 
 THE HAPPINESS OF LOVE 343 
 
 the best possible face on the matter, especially as Frantz 
 and his adherents were on the side of the people. 
 
 Hugo vonZedlitz was brought forward and received 
 permission to defend himself against the former ac- 
 cusation, which he did with all the power of truth. 
 His words were plain and simple, but omnipotent by 
 the weight of conviction, the fire of a holy enthusiasm, 
 the ardor of a pure and noble patriotism which they 
 expressed. 
 
 While the youth was defending himself with noble 
 pride and his simple words rushed from his lips in a 
 torrent, the mob outside the building, raging furiously, 
 shouted with its thousand voices: 
 
 "Liberty for Hugo von Zedlitz! Freedom for the 
 savior of the city! Down with traitors!" 
 
 Many of the council trembled, terrified by their own 
 evil consciences and the danger threatening them. 
 
 The longer the session lasted; the more wildly and 
 fiercely the mob raged and roared, like a surging sea 
 in the streets. 
 
 At last the central window of the Rathhaus opened, 
 the ruling Ammeister appeared at it and amid a death- 
 like stilless announced — that Hugo von Zedlitz had 
 been found innocent, the sentence of banishment was 
 revoked and he himself restored to liberty. 
 
 From thousands and thousands of throats rang a 
 simultaneous: ■ 
 
 "Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" 
 
 The leaders of the guilds passed into the Rathhaus, 
 
;'■ 344 A ROYAL ROBBER . . j "■ 
 
 and when they returned with Hugo the cheers seemed 
 as if they would never end. 
 
 It was the finest triumphal procession Strassburg 
 had ever witnessed. 
 
 When he passed the house occupied by Syndicus 
 Frantz, two female figures were standing at one of the 
 windows, waving white handkerchiefs— like the women 
 and girls in almost all the houses — to greet the savior 
 of the beloved cit}'. 
 
 How Hugo's lieart thrilled with happiness, how 
 overjo3'ed Alma was, she laughed, exulted^ yet tears 
 rolled down her cheeks. But when the procession 
 had passed, she sank into her mother's arms, sobbing 
 aloud. 
 
 "Dear, dear child!" said the mother, pressing a kiss 
 upon her beloved daughter's hair. But she let her 
 have her fill of weeping, for these were tears of the 
 highest, purest, most sacred jo}'. 
 
 Two hours later the dinner-table in the Syndicus' 
 house stood read}-. But to-day instead of three plates 
 as usual, there were five. 
 
 Who the guests were to be neither mother nor 
 daughter knew, Syndicus Frantz had merely sent 
 word to have seats ready for two guests and to set 
 forth ever3'thing that the kitchen and cellar contained. 
 
 Now all the preparations were made; the table laid, 
 the dishes cooked, the best wine placed on a side 
 table — but the Syndicus and his guests did not appear. 
 
 Alma was alone in the room. Yesterday a mountain 
 
 
■.T-!ixy^S;v-Sf^ -■ TSa?F='«3*-jrj-r-:/''V-';^''-"^^np«JSf' 
 
 ;^ - THE HAPPINESS OF LOVE 345 
 
 of grief had oppressed her heart, yesterday she sup- 
 posed her lover far away, trembled with the fear that 
 no opportunity would offer itself by which he could 
 prove to his enemies and all Strassburg the injustice 
 they had done him and that he was no traitor, but 
 on the contrary possessed a heart full of ardent love 
 for his native country! And to-day? 
 
 Alma was so absorbed in her reverie that she did. 
 not hear the low knock at the door, which was now 
 repeated for the third time. 
 
 Not until the door gently opened and a man's figure 
 appeared, did she start from her dreams. 
 
 But! Good Hevens! What was this? Was she 
 awake or asleep? 
 
 Alma passed her hand across her brow — the vision 
 did not vanish, she was not dreaming, but awake and 
 this, this —was ... 
 
 "Hugo!" she joyousl}^ exclaimed and — "Alma, dear, 
 dear Alma!" now escaped young Zedlitz's lips as he 
 hurried towards her. 
 
 Alma, in her jo}^ and surprise, could scarcely under- 
 stand what had happened; it was her lover who stood 
 before her — it was Hugo von Zedlitz who ventured to 
 greet her in her parents' house. 
 
 "Thank God that you are back againi" said Alma 
 with radiant eyes, as she eagerly clasped his proffered 
 hand. Hugo shook it warmly. 
 
 "Yes, His name be praised!" he replied, "andlhope 
 not to go away again without you!" 
 
 "iSaiip*^- '.-'■■ 
 
^K-i... ' ■ ".^'^ ' ";:• - ■■ - ■ - -r-" .■ 'o'* -T-. ■ ■ - ,■ ■■ v;r>' .^\^'r r->''-'ij';:; •■'^--"^ ^? .V:^«Si»i-^'r^ . 
 
 346 A KOVAT, RODPKR | . / 
 
 "And you have ventured," she said, her heart throb- 
 bing with fear, "to come directly to this house without 
 my father's — " 
 
 "No! " he feplied, "I should not have dared to do 
 so, but when I left the Rathhaus this' morning your 
 father invited me to visit him at this hour." 
 
 "My father! " exclaimed Alma in joyful surprise. 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 "And he is no longer angr}^ with you because you 
 belong to the Zedlitz family?" 
 
 "Syndicus Frantz was and is a man of honor," said 
 Hugo gravely. "He felt that bitter injustice had 
 been done me — he has convinced himself that my in- 
 tentions towards Strassburg are honest and it seems to 
 me as if he wishes — " 
 
 "To atone for the wrong done you in his absence hy 
 the magistrates!" cried Alma joyously. "Oh! that is 
 like my dear father!" 
 
 "And indeed," said Hugo, his eyes sparkling with 
 JO)', "he can do so in the fullest measure. Do you 
 know how?" 
 
 "Hugo, Hugo!" faltered the young girl, while deep 
 blushes lent her sweet face the charm of girlish bash- 
 fulness. 
 
 "And how?" repeated the youth, taking her hands 
 and drawing her gently towards him — "tell me?" 
 
 "By giving our love his blessing!" 
 
 "Yes, by giving our love his blessing," exclaimed 
 Hugo rapturously, and suddenly he pressed his lips to 
 
' ,_ THE HAPPINESS OF LOVE . 347 
 
 hers, clasping the lovely girl in his arms as if he 
 would never release her again. 
 
 A few minutes after the doors at both ends of the 
 room opened almost at the same instant, and while 
 Hedwig entered at one, two men appeared on the 
 threshold of the other. 
 
 It was Syndicus Frantz and the worthy tailor, 
 Franz Blasius Wenck. 
 
 "Why Hugo! So the young fellow is here already!" 
 exclaimed Syndicus Frantz, who to-day, after a long 
 time, was once more radiant with happiness and joy. 
 
 Hedwig stood motionless with surprise. 
 
 "Yes, stare! " cried the Syndicus, turning to the 
 mother and daughter, "stare because I have admitted 
 the heir of the Zedlitz family to my house and invited 
 him to dinner. But I will try to do all in my power 
 to atone for the wrong Strassburg has inflicted upon 
 Hugo. He is the preserver of our native city, the hero 
 of the day; he has saved Strassburg at the peril of 
 his life and I should despise myself if I extended the 
 hatred that divides the fathers to my enemy's son." 
 
 And holding out his hand to young Zedlitz, he added: 
 
 "Welcome, Hugo; I was your father's friend when 
 you were still a child, before political feuds separated 
 us. Take me once more as your paternal friend, and 
 look upon my hou.se as your own. And now, he con- 
 tinued, turning to his wife and daughter, who were 
 still standing speechless with joyful surprise — "wel- 
 come the old, yet new friend of our house." 
 
 
: 'S-yi^^' "v'T'j^-^'v-fS^P^^ *^r ^y-"^ V^ T 
 
 348 A ROYAL ROBBER | 
 
 Hedwig and Alma did not need to be asked a second 
 time, though Alma was so bewildered by all this that 
 she could scarcely utter an intelligible word. ! 
 
 "But who is your second guest?" asked Hedwig. 
 
 "Who?" exclaimed the Syndicus, "the man to whom, 
 next to Hugo, belongs the honor of the day! our 
 worthy Wenck!" ! 
 
 "Too much honor! Too much honor! Herr Syndi- 
 cus!" cried the tailor and his short figure with the 
 head sunk between the shoulders looked so comical as 
 he bowed again and again, that none of those present 
 could help laughing. "What I did was my duty. I 
 am only glad that the affair turned out so well, and 
 our brave young friend's honor was restored. Who 
 knows what good it may do!" 
 
 The party now proceeded to dinner. It was not 
 luxurious, but admirably arranged and accompanied 
 with good wine. ■ \ 
 
 The 5'oung people were perfectly happy, Hedwig 
 alone seemed somewhat troubled. The Syndicus, in 
 his own joy, did not notice it for a long time. Not 
 until the meal was over and many a toast had been 
 prosed: "The happiness and welfare of Strassburg! 
 The German native land! The brave deliverer of 
 the city," and "the Frantz family," did he notice his 
 wife's grave face. 
 
 Bending towards his faithful companion he asked. 
 
 "What is the matter, Hedwig?" 
 
 She smiled. "Not much. Only a thought was 
 passing through my mind." , 
 
gP5S»5»aS^:'.-Cp-:--: ■ ' #, ^.>.„ .^SEiS^STr 
 
 ' ■■ THE HAPPINESS OF LOVE 349 
 
 "And what thought?" asked the Syndicus gayly— 
 "a good one I am sure. You have inspired many a 
 good thought during my life." 
 
 "Do you think so?" 
 
 "Certainly ! We men, in hastily pursuing things at 
 ,a distance, often forget those which are close at hand. 
 Therefore a good, sensible wife is a real blessing; if 
 we seek to soar on the wings of our enthusiasm into 
 the realms of infinite space, she seizes us by the feet 
 and pulls us gently back, saying: 'see, my friend, 
 there is still so much to be done here.' And we are 
 obliged to confess that she is right. Many good things 
 are required in our immediate neighborhood which we 
 should have overlooked but for our wives. True, a 
 man's thoughts often give depth and space to a 
 woman's, but in return the wife's often inspire the 
 man's with warmth and practical direction." 
 
 Tears sparkled in the eyes of both. They looked 
 at each other, bent forward and exchanged a loving 
 kiss. 
 
 "But your thought! " exclaimed the Syndicus gayly. 
 
 "Why," replied Hedwig, "with the best intentions 
 we are always somewhat selfish." 
 
 "Well? "exclaimed the Syndicus laughing — "what 
 does that mean?" 
 
 "A petition." 
 
 "Then speak, wife." 
 
 "Well then, as a wise woman, I •hould like to profit 
 by this favorable mood=" 
 

 350 A ROYAL ROBBtK 
 
 The old gentleman laughed heartily, and then asked : 
 "In what way?" 
 
 "Why," replied Hedwig, "you might allow each of 
 us to make some request which you must promise to 
 grant." 
 
 Hugo and Alma blushed scarlet as the smiling 
 mother uttered these words. 
 
 "Very well," said the Syndicus, "since God has 
 given me so happy a day, I will gladly contribute to 
 the joy of others. What do you think, Wenck?" 
 
 "Certainly, Herr Syndicus, who knows what good 
 it may do!" 
 
 "Very well then," cried Frantz gayly, "but who is 
 to begin?" 
 
 "Mother! mother!" cried Alma in indescribable 
 embarrassment, turning pale as death. 
 
 "Well then, begin," said the Syndicus. "What 
 petition shall I grant you?" 
 
 "To speak when our young friend the deliverer of 
 our native city, has spoken." 
 
 "Be it so. Well, Hugo, what is your request?" 
 
 Hugo rose from his seat; a noble, manly earnestness 
 was depicted In his features, and his eyes sparkled 
 with wondrous brilliancy. 
 
 "Yes," he said, "I have a request to make, noble 
 man, to you who in my childhood and now once more 
 have received me with fatherly kindness; but, Herr 
 Syndicus, this is no light jest, as you perhaps sup- 
 pose, but a grave, important petition on which the 
 
 !:^_ 
 
THE HAPPINESS OF LOVE 55 1 
 
 happiness of my whole life depends. In one word, my 
 friend" — here Hugo extended his hand to the old man 
 — "make me the happiest of mortals, make me your 
 son, give me your daughter, my dear, beloved Alma?" 
 
 Syndicus Frantz looked as if a thunder-bolt had 
 struck him. He would have expected the heavens co 
 fall sooner than this request. It was really impossible 
 for him to regain his self control immediately. But 
 'what most perplexed the usually calm man was the 
 very singular conduct of those who surrounded him. 
 
 Had wig did not seem at all surprised, but smiled 
 at her husband quietly and confidently as if to say: 
 Come, consent; they love each other so tenderly, this 
 is all that was wanting to our domestic happiness. 
 
 Wenck's face also clearly expressed: "Yes, who 
 knows what good it may do." 
 
 And Alma? 
 
 The lovely girl had started up, thrown herself at her 
 father's feet and was now gazing into his face with 
 such radiant, yet imploring eyes that the old gentle- 
 man felt a strange emotion — an emotion like that ex- 
 perienced when he had first looked deep down in Hed- 
 wig's eyes. 
 
 "But you, you!" cried the Syndicus to his wife, "are 
 not you at all surprised?" 
 
 "No," replied Hedwig, pressing a kiss upon her 
 husband's brow. "Alma confessed her love to me a 
 few days ago amid bitter tears. I was only waiting' 
 for a suitable opportunity to tell you the secret of 
 
^Vri-'i-^^f;^'"- 
 
 352 A ROYAL KOBBER 
 
 her little heart, but could find none, until to-day a 
 happy fate so unexpectedly unites us, that I cannot 
 help seeing God's hand in the work. So my request 
 is: give them to each other." 
 
 "And mine too, Herr S3ndicus" exclaimed Wenck 
 with innimitable pathos; "give them to each other; 
 who knows what good it may do!" - ' 
 
 All laughed heartily, but Syndicus Franz remarked: 
 
 "So your requests have melted into one," and the 
 tender look granted what the lips had not yet uttered. 
 
 "Yes," they all exclaimed, "and our request is 
 granted ! " 1 
 
 "Ah!" sighed the Syndicus, "last night I, with the 
 little ship of State, escaped a political conspiracy, to 
 succumb to-day in my own house. Well, be it so! I 
 give my blessing to your love. But the blessing of 
 the church and the marriage must be deferred until 
 the fate of our dear native city is decided. This is 
 no time for love-making and festivity, it is the hour 
 of watching and conflict. On the day that makes us 
 free again, you, my children, shall become man and 
 wife." 
 
 Hugo did not take his leave until evening. Alma 
 accompanied him to the door, but before she opened 
 it, they again bade each other farewell. 
 
 "Do you know how I feel at this instant?" asked 
 Alma gently. 
 ' "How? " replied Hugo. I 
 
 "I feel," continued Alma, as if in a dream, "as 
 
 
■^ ' ■■■-": :■ V ■ p ■- 
 
 .,* 'V THE HAPPINESS OK I.OVE 353 
 
 though I were pressing towards the light, like the 
 seed that has Iain concealed in the earth during long. 
 long winter, and is now kissed by the spring sun." 
 
 "Your soul breathes immortality," replied Hugo, 
 "because you love." 
 
 He pressed an ardent kiss upon the lips of his be- 
 trothed bride and hurried away. 
 
 He hastened out into the darkness — but the dark- 
 ness was light to him, the tempest a gentle zephyr; 
 for spring is the life of love, and love the spring of 
 life. If you dwell in love, light and eternal spring 
 will dwell in you! 
 
 23 Robbtr 
 
 
<^?i«f'>°^'*^5* 
 
 _f» S^"^- 
 
 ■«J X 
 
 - f 
 
 PART V. I 
 
 DARK PATHS. i 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE SUITOR. 
 
 The conspiracy centered in the monastery at Strass- 
 biirg had indeed been an alarm to the citizens. Those 
 who had hitherto remained blind to the designs of France 
 were compelled to see the truth. The victory of the 
 German party, the pariotic magistrates, was — at least 
 for the moment — complete. Giinzer went as the saying 
 goes, up to his neck in water. He and his part}' had 
 not only strongly compromised themselves by the 
 banishment of Hugo von Zedlitz, but Giinzer himself 
 had barely, as if by a miracle, escaped the discovery 
 of his treason. This consciousness oppressed the 
 usually daring man, as the consciousness of their own 
 guilt weighed upon many of the other magistrates, 
 who through his influence had been bribed and bought 
 by France. . 1. 
 
 The opposition to Syndicus Frantz and the patriotic 
 party therefore died away during the first few days 
 after the discovery of the conspiracy, n^y the influence 
 
 85i 
 
 '^tskliauaii^^ii 
 
■ r__ . - ■- , - . ::l ■ - .^v^^^i^ t^^t:^:?^- ■■-?*>/r>~ -' " ■' ■ " '-v" ' -"■■ <^"^-".;.'"-'-^^-v;'..- . ■ -'■ 
 
 : ; -^^ V :: ; • THE SUITOR ' 355 
 
 of the latter suddenly became predominant. They 
 were backed by almost the entire population of the 
 city. 
 
 What Hugo von Zedlitz had accomplished with his 
 few followers, each individual soon attributed to his 
 own energy, and this consciousness of heroic courage _. 
 increased till it reached an open defiance of France. 
 
 The work of arming the guilds was prosecuted with 
 great zeal. Their rooms were transformed into a mili- 
 tary bureau. Contributions of money to procure 
 weapons were taken, and certain Iionrs designated for 
 drill. The citizens undertook the daiy of mounting 
 guard three days out of the week. 
 
 All was fire and flame, only nothing was conducted 
 in the right way, because everything was managed 
 hastily and without reflection. 
 
 Little attention was paid to whether the weapons 
 obtained were suitable or not, if they were only 
 secured. 
 
 Whether the characters of- many men afforded a 
 guarantee that they could be relied on — in case of any 
 serious struggle — was not asked, if only the ranks 
 were well filled. There was little subordination too, 
 as was natural. Citizen stood beside citizen, and — 
 was not all voluntary service? 
 
 Besides each guild managed its own affairs; there 
 was no thought of a firm bond between them, the sub- 
 jection of all to one commander. Now and then, it is 
 true, Hugo von Zediitz's name was mentioned. But 
 
 i:^.-mji.^Li7,;2i*i-' i*aiS«!^ro^^rieaJT--i^'.^^; 
 
 

 356 ." A ROYAL ROBBER ' - 
 
 no steps were taken to make him their leader. One 
 thought him too young, another too impetuous; some 
 objected to his father, others to his noble name. 
 
 Strassburg, at least in name, was a little republic — 
 but, where were the real republicans? 
 
 Giinzer was clever enough to perceive this. So when 
 the first surprise and alarm were over, he quickly 
 regained his self-command. His diplomatic genius 
 did not desert him and — accommodating himself to 
 the situation and the moment — he looked on with a 
 smile at the excited activity of his fellow citizens. 
 
 He well knew that the flickering light of this torch of 
 popular excitement, that rises almost to the sky to — 
 sink again all the more speedily. 
 
 He was less at ease about the influence Hugo von 
 Zedlitz had obtained over the populace, and which 
 the young man — though, preparing for his legal exam- 
 ination, he led a very secluded life — knew how to 
 maintain. 
 
 As soon as Giinzer was certain that he had not been 
 cornpi'omised, he softly and imperceptibly took the 
 reins in his hands again. At first this was accom- 
 plished without opposition, nay even with the sem- 
 blance of achange in his views. But the crafty man 
 was only giving the people time to rave away their 
 patriotic intoxication. 
 
 Of course Giinzer's creatures, as well as himself, 
 were not inactive. Money flowed into the pockets of 
 the people and when were men inaccessible to bribes? 
 
 '<■ ifciJfi!J.",-.'i*ii*t(:'.-»^.'. 
 
THE SUITOR 357 
 
 But having advanced so far, Giinzer stood forth again 
 with the old, nay even with redoubled energy to 
 recover the lost ground. Frantz and his party strug- 
 gled agaiiriit this new attack with all their strength; 
 but the period of bewilderment on the part of the 
 undecided ' faction was over, and the old instinct as 
 well as secret obligations led them to cling to their 
 old leader. And now ah event occurred which greatly 
 strengthened the courage of the adherents of France 
 and correspondingly depressed their opponents. The 
 court of France, with the king at its head, while on 
 a pleasure* tour, suddenly appeared at the neighboring 
 cit)'' of Colmar, settled there to make a prolonged 
 stay, and overwhelmed Strassburg with tokens of 
 friendship. 
 
 Frantz and his followers, Hugo von Zedlitz, Wenck, 
 and many other honorable men, saw through the 
 maneuver and warned their fellow citizens, but the 
 cries of the Giinzer faction and the vanity of the 
 flattered burghers made their voices die away without 
 avail. 
 
 Ere it could be foreseen, affairs in Strassburg were 
 precisely in the same state that they had been before 
 the conspiracy in the monastery. Giinzer was again 
 master of the magistrates. 
 
 Meantime, however, another drama which was con- 
 fined within the limits of family life, had been secretly 
 arranged under Giinzer's eyes, 
 
 Giinzer was of humble origin. When a child, his 
 
 . \:ii^ii^l;f'X^b§:ft^^2^'^idiS^!]:^%^^:^ ' '. 
 
^=18 ' A BOVAL ROBBER ' > I 
 
 father filled the office of assessor at the meetings of 
 the twenty guilds. But, as it was discovered that he 
 betrayed and sold their secrets for money, he was 
 expelled in disgrace. 
 
 A still darker shadow rested upon the Giinzer 
 family in consequence of an incident connected with 
 the assessor's brother This man — the uncle of the 
 present Giinzer — was accused of counterfeiting. He 
 fled to the other side of the Rhine but was seized and 
 brought back to Strassburg. Scarcely, however, had 
 he reached the bridge, when he escaped from his 
 guards, sprang over the railing into the river, and 
 was drowned. 
 
 As for Giinzer— who now played so important a part 
 in the affairs of Strassburg — his parents left him in 
 the most destitute circumstances. He was a boy of 
 intelligence, but of most crafty character. An or- 
 phan, he would doubtless have speedily gone to ruin, 
 if the ancient family of Zorn von Plobsheim and that 
 of von Bernhold, which was closely connected with 
 the von Plobsheim, had not kindl}^ received him. 
 
 Giinzer was treated precisely like a child of the 
 house, educated and placed in the various institutions 
 of learning. His great ability soon displayed itself, 
 so that his patrons not only loaded him with favors, 
 but Herr von Bernhold placed him on almost precisely 
 the same footing as his oldest son. 
 
 At the time Turenne was celebrating his great suc- 
 cess in Alsace, Herr von Bernhold was sheriff of 
 
 ^r'.^ntSaS^TAiJ'iimmja'-VM. 
 
.-;:—;'•,." ^ ' THK SUITOR 359 
 
 Strassburg and, as e^'en then, it was necessar}^ to use 
 every precaution to protect the city against the ever 
 increasing power of Louis XIV, a young man with 
 good legal and diplomatic ability was sent to the 
 French court. Herr von Bernhold selected for this 
 purpose Giinzer, believing that his numerous and con- 
 stant favors had bound him to his interests. 
 
 After Herr von Bernhold had supplied his prot^g^ 
 with the necessary authority from the government, 
 and provided him liberally with means to defraj^ the 
 expenses of the journey and a long residence in Paris, 
 he explained the diplomatic career he was to inau- 
 gurate with the Comte de Reuvigny. 
 
 Comte de Reuvigny, in consequence of Herr von 
 Bernhold's recommendation, procured Giinzer the 
 acquaintance of several prominent individuals at the 
 court, especially that of the Marquis de Louvois. 
 The minister's keen eye instantly read Giinzer 's char- 
 acter and as he saw in the young man an admirable 
 tool for his extensive plans, honored him with his 
 special confidence. Matters went so far that Giinzer 
 was called "le mignon connu de la France." 
 
 But Giinzer seemed to have used his influence only 
 in favor of his native city. Absolute confidence on the 
 part of the magistrates rewarded his skill and zeal, 
 and thus it happened that on his return to Strassburg, 
 he was appointed first clerk to the city and afterwards 
 to the council. Of course all foreign affairs, especiall}' 
 the business with France, were entrusted to the clever 
 
 • •'si^^.^i^i^iy'ii^^-'l:.^L:?^i:j^i^!ii^Ji^.^'^-^^'i:^ 
 
-,•..' ' ' ' - ^ *"■■.'"-' ■ 
 
 360 A KOVM, HORBF.I^ 
 
 diplomat, the man honored by the favor of Louvois, 
 What a web of treachery Giinzer spun, by what vast 
 sums he was bribed to aid by voice in the meetings 
 of the magistrates, the fall of Strassburg and the 
 delivery of this important German city to France, we 
 already know. Besides Louvois had promised him in 
 case of success the ofifice of Syndicus and Director ch 
 affairs in Strassburg. 
 
 This was Gunzer's conduct to the government and 
 his native city — but how did he treat his benefactot 
 and his family? 
 
 When Giinzer, as a 3'oung man, found himself a 
 member of the family of Herr von Bernhold, and the 
 latter — his benefactor, his second father — reposed the 
 utmost confidence in him, and also afterwards when 
 the old gentleman died and his son, with whom Giin- 
 zer had been educated, became the head of the family, 
 he was entrusted, among other things, with the legal 
 documents of the families of von Benihold and von 
 Zorn. The clever young man was also specially com- 
 missioned to examine the papers and legal documents 
 belonging to the Plobsheim property, about which 
 many discussions had arisen. 
 
 But the younger Herr von Bernhold also died sud- 
 denly and unexpectedly. His widow, a member of the 
 von Zorn family, was inconsolable. Robbed of her 
 natural protector in these troubled times, she turned, 
 assured that Giinzer was devoted to her whole family, 
 to him. and chose him for her trustee and adviser. 
 
 .T%^-ilii-^.s^^'^ i-r 
 
■ seS'^Ps ™>.^™'?^^ ■'■ .^- 1 -- '■ - ^^- -^^^ 
 
 THE SUITOR 361 
 
 Now that tnis man was dead, Frau von Bernhold a 
 widow, the family without head or support, Giinzer 
 purloined the papers relating to the Plobsheim 
 property, in order to obtain possession of it himself. 
 
 Those were bright, beautiful, summer days which 
 Alma, the lovely daughter of Syndicus Frantz, spent 
 in a visit at Plobsheim. 
 
 Both families had long been on intimate terms, and 
 Hedwig and Alma considered it a duty, after the 
 recent death of the younger Herr von Bernhold, to 
 console the young, deeply mourning widow. 
 
 Hedwig could not leave her husband^ but Alma had 
 time to devote several weeks to her afflicted friend, so 
 Hedwig had brought her to Plobsheim some time be- 
 fore, and she willingly filled the place of an affection- 
 ate comforter. 
 
 Alma's frank, simple nature, which had inherited 
 from the Syndicus the great art of confining everything 
 unlovely, painful, and perplexing within the narrowest 
 limits, that room might be obtained for a free, broad 
 life, seemed to have been created for this office. 
 
 Yet it did not escape the notice of the Syndicus' 
 daughter, that a cloud of deep sadness often rested 
 upon the little lady's head. But this cloud — Alma's 
 feminine keenness instanth' perceived — was not caused 
 by grief, but by anxiety, which Frau von Bernhold 
 had hitherto concealed from her young friend. 
 
 It was Sunday. Frau von Bernhold and Alma were 
 sitting at a window of the stately castle of Plobsheim, 
 
., 3^2 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 the center of the beautiful estate of which the young 
 widow was now sole mistress. 
 
 This young widow was still a beautiful woman. Her 
 limbs and figure were delicately moulded, her features 
 possessed a winning sweetness, so that she could justly 
 be called a very pretty woman. Moreover she pos- 
 sessed a gentle loving nature, had been a tender, faith- 
 ful wife to her husband, and was a good mother to her 
 children. 
 
 In intellect, energy and vitality, it is true, Frau 
 von Bernhold was far surpassed by Alma, but as she 
 had retained her purity of soul, the difference in years 
 between the two was scarcely perceptible. 
 
 They sat side by side, busied with some piece of 
 fancy-work, while the gentle breeze bore the fragrance 
 of the flowers and the sounds of the bells, ringing for 
 afternoon service, through the open window. 
 
 There was something infinitely pathetic in the merry 
 playing, laughing and shouting of little ones in the 
 deepest mourning — the thought of the irreparable loss 
 they had sustained, and Vv'hich they did not even sus- 
 pect. And yet the sight of them must have afforded 
 the mother consolation ; they w^ere the living images 
 of her dead husband —while the}' were a constant ad- 
 monition to bestow on the poor, fatherless little ones 
 a double share of tenderness, rear them to be worthy 
 of their father. 
 
 When the children smiled, waved their little hands, 
 and cried 'mother!" tears gushed from the widow's 
 
 .-■ir^Si^^^tie^-ssJlSmMiffi^^i^^iiiiiai . . 
 
THE SUITOR • 363 
 
 eyes. Mother! echoed in the young widow's heart.. 
 and with the sound a voice also cried: "They no 
 longer have a' father, they have only you; you their 
 mother, to provide for their education, their defense 
 against the wicked world, the maintenance of their 
 imperiled rights. 
 
 And this was what pressed like a mountain on Frau 
 von Bernhold's soul. 
 
 Alma did not utter a word, but let the poor lady 
 cry quietly. 
 
 Giinzer, as he declared, had not yet found among 
 the family papers the documents that secured to the 
 Bernhold family undoubted possession of the beautiful 
 estate of Plobsheim. 
 
 Old Herr Bernhold, Giinzer' s benefactor and second 
 father, had long since declared with the utmost 
 certainty, that these papers must be in existence, must 
 at least be found somewhere. 
 
 Everything depended upon the discovery of the 
 documents, since the Reunions- Kammern demanded 
 them. If they could not be shown, the worst might 
 be expected from the French government, whose un- 
 just decisions in Alsace were well-known. 
 
 Thus the whole means of existence of the mother 
 and that of her children was at stake; for though the 
 family possessed other property, the estate of Plobs- 
 heim was by far the large portion. 
 
 Alma listened to this communication with a throb- 
 bing heart. She, too, now felt great anxiety about the 
 
 ::K=L.«!s;,,^ii 
 
, Sr^i:- ■^lOiJ^l'' 
 
 '•*5vW ' 
 
 364 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 young widow's situation; but another ^ thought 
 oppressed her still more, the thought that the whole 
 affair was in Giinzer's hands. 
 
 Giinzer — of whose treacherous designs towards Strass- 
 burg the Frantz family were morally certain, though 
 no piece of rascality had been proved against him, who 
 had treated Hugo von Zedlitz so shamefully — was a 
 terror to Alma. To her pure, innocent, childlike soul, 
 there was something fiendish about him. 
 
 Alma covdd not help giving a slight warning against 
 Giinzer. 
 
 "Are you sure of his honesty? she asked at last. 
 
 "Certain of his devotion to our family," the widow 
 replied. "Giinzer owes all he is and has to my dead 
 father-in-law and my own father. My husband loaded 
 him Vv'ith favors. " 
 
 Alma sighed, but was silent; it seemed wrong to 
 shake such well-founded confidence. 
 
 At the same mc^ment the} saw two horsemen turn 
 from the main road into the avenue leading to the 
 castle. 
 
 The two ladies looked intently at them and turned 
 pale. 
 
 They were Giinzer and his brother-in-law, Kampffer. 
 
 Both ladies' hearts throbbed wildly, they knew not 
 why. 
 
 A second glance through the window showed them 
 that Kampffer went on as if intending to pass round 
 the castle, v/];»ile Giinzer came towards it. 
 
 jx,jt,'»<(i^i^::M.,x<-:?ifoju-i«a.. i. >^^j..>S .^Z.K^'^Hi.1SiMl:^.^'^idans^C..M..Jl.^.. ... 
 
^ . THE SUITOR 365 
 
 Alma begged permission to withdraw to her own 
 room, and Frau von Bernhold, anticipating a business 
 inteview, made no objection. 
 
 A few minutes after-, Giinzer entered. 
 
 "You doubtless bring me good news!" said the young 
 widow, after the first greetings had been exchanged, 
 while a faint flush — a pale reflection of her former 
 bloom — suffused her cheeks, and in contrast with her 
 black dress, gave her a peculiar charm. 
 
 "Good news certainly," replied Giinzer cordially, 
 "if you recieve it favorably." 
 
 "Why should I not" — continued Frau von Bernhold, 
 "in my desolate, sorrowful position I greatly need it. 
 You know this very well, Herr Gtinzer. But sit down. " 
 
 "In what does your news consist," the widow re- 
 sumed, "I suppose something In relation to Plobsheim. 
 
 "It has one relation to it," replied Giinzer with a 
 peculiar smile and a courtesy Frau von Bernhold was 
 not in the habit of noticing in his manner. 
 
 "One relation." • 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And the other?" 
 
 "Permit me, madame, to speak of that later." 
 
 "As you choose. But don't keep me on the rack. 
 How stands the affair of the documents? ~ Have you 
 found them?. Since my husband's death, this matter 
 has weighed upon me like a mountain, not for my 
 own sake, Heaven knows, but that of my poor, father- 
 less children." 
 
' " ■ " -■■ '-■''' '-' .' '-i 
 
 366 A ROYAL ROBBER . j' • 
 
 Tears flowed from the eyes of the young widow. 
 
 Giinzer cast a strange glance at her, a look of 
 blended defiance and triumph. 
 
 "You must console yourself! " he said. "The fact 
 cannot be altered, and it is useless to yield to sorrow. " 
 
 "Life has lost everything for me!" replied the 
 widow sadly. 
 
 "You go too far," rejoined Giinzer. "Time brings 
 solace for every grief. You are still young and beauti- 
 ful, madame. " 
 
 "Gunzer!" 
 
 "You maj- yet be happy." 
 
 "And 3'ou say that, you knew my dear husband so 
 well, who were educated with him?" 
 
 "Yes! "replied Giinzer,. watching her. "He was 
 indeed a good and very estimable man. But eveything 
 in life may be supplied." ; 
 
 "Nothing will supply my husband's place," said the 
 widow in a low tone, while tears again filled her eyes. 
 
 "Time will teach j^ou to think otherwise. No wave 
 rises and falls, whose place may not be supplied." 
 
 "That compr^rison may suit life and our position in 
 it," replied Frau von Bernhold. 'but not a loving 
 heart. However, let that pass, Herr Giinzer, and calm 
 my anxiet}' about the matter we have just mentioned." 
 
 Giinzer darted a piercing glance at thf young widow, 
 and then said curth': i 
 
 "It is in a very bad condition. ! ' 1 
 
 ' j ■ 
 
 Frau von Bernhold turned pale. 1 
 
 i^.'i* ,.5«»^uKL.iA .-Sfi-w.. 
 
THE SUITOR .„ -3^^^ 
 
 "What!" she said, scarcely able to control her voice, 
 "didn't you say just now that you had good news?" 
 
 "If you would favorably receive the proposition I 
 have to make." 
 
 "I don't understand you ! Haven't you found the 
 documents, which afford incontestable proofs of our 
 right to Plobsheim?" 
 
 "No!" 
 - "But, good Heavens! They must be there!" 
 
 "I have already searched for them for years! " 
 
 "And earned in return our sincere gratitude, but — 
 have you examined everything?" 
 
 "Every nook and corner, every parchment!" 
 
 "Giinzer!" exclaimed Frau von Bernhold in uncon- 
 trolable agitation, "you know how much depends upon 
 the discovery of those papers." 
 
 "I know!" he replied with icy composure. "Every- 
 thing. If the title to the estate is not found, Plobs- 
 heim will be lost to you." 
 
 "And I and my children?" 
 
 "There are means of defending yourself !" 
 
 "No, no," cried the young widow, "there is still a 
 just God, who will not suffer bold hands to rob a 
 widow and her children." 
 
 "France and her' Chambers de. Reunion consider it 
 no robbery. On the contrary! To secure legal pos- 
 session of property, they require legal proofs of owner- 
 ship" 
 
 ■"And they must bf» there! My father and father-in- 
 
 j$rt-ids^'r:;^ ■ . -■ - \'2liiS2^i::^i^w:^^'^-^-:'i 
 
368 * A ROYAL ROBPER ' | ■ 
 
 - i 
 
 law, as well as man^' members of the Bernhold and 
 Zorn families, clearly remember having seen them 
 with their own eyes." 
 
 Giinzer's face darkened, and he said as if wounded: 
 
 "Do you distrust me, madame! Or do you think me 
 negligent in this important matter?" 
 
 'Certainly not!" cried Frau von Bernhold in alarm 
 — Giinzer was her sole support in the matter. "But 
 you might, perhaps, have overlooked the papers. Per- 
 haps they have been pushed aside — perhaps " 
 
 "Here are the keys to both chests!" said Giinzer 
 gravely. "Pray search them yourself, madame." 
 
 "How could I? And—" 
 
 "Then choose some other legal adviser." 
 
 "Giinzer?" 
 
 "You do not trust me." 
 
 '"How can you say so? Will you desert me, the 
 widow of the man with whom you were reared like a 
 brother, desert me and his poor children, now, when 
 an attempt is made to rob us of our property, the 
 estate of Plobsheim, which we have owned for cen- 
 tunes? 
 
 "No!" said Giinzer' with a sudden touch of cordiality, 
 beneath which, however, lurked something that pro- 
 duced an uncomfortable impression, "no, that I will 
 not, but precisely the contrary." 
 
 "Good Heavens!" exclaimed Frau von Bernhold joy- 
 ously, "then you know of some expedient. Perhaps you 
 have discovered a way to tear Plobshiem from the 
 
5?^;>\ " 
 
 THE SUITOR 369 
 
 greedy hands of the R^uniofis Kammern. If It requires 
 sacrifice, I will gladly make them for my children." 
 
 "I don't think the affair can be termed a sacrifice." 
 
 "What affair?" 
 
 "Let me speak plainly." 
 
 "Pray do so." 
 
 "France is not to be trifled with." 
 
 "Who does not know that." 
 
 "Therefore the utmost exertions must be made to 
 retain possession of the castle and estate of Plobsheim, 
 together with the title and rights of nobility apper- 
 taining to it; for the person to whom Plobsheim is 
 assigned receives the title and privileges of a noble- 
 man, an owner of the seineurie de Plobsheim." 
 
 "That would be—" 
 
 "Madame, that is so! Unfortunately. But we have 
 examples enough." 
 
 "But pray—" 
 
 "Let us keep to the fact We must always subject 
 the feelings to calm reason, and not confound our own 
 idea of right with that the law recognizes as right." 
 
 "But—" . 
 
 "Therefore the utmost exertions must be made to 
 retain possession of Plobsheim. But this is difficult 
 and dangerous. Difficult, because the title deeds are 
 missing — dangerous, because the enmity of France 
 threatens us in the backgroupd. " 
 
 "Louvois is your friend.'" 
 
 "I too rely upon that." 
 
 24 Robber 
 
 ■■■^Wai'ulSK-^'^ffiiivJ^ 
 
m: --^S^afr- ' 
 
 370 ^ A KOYAI- ROBBER | }~ 
 
 "And you will do your utmost for me and my 
 children?" 
 
 "Yes — on one condition." 
 
 "And that is?" 
 
 "Let us make common cause." 
 
 Frau von Bernhold looked at him in astonishment. 
 
 "What do you mean?" she asked. "I don't under- 
 stand." 
 
 "Why — you are a widow—" " - 
 
 "Unhappily!" 
 
 "And I~" j 
 
 Frau von Bernhold did not believe her, ears. 
 
 "You have the kindness to act as my legal adviser," 
 she answered, turning deadly pale. { 
 
 "Yes," continued Giinzer. "But I am also clerk of 
 the city and council of Strassburg, a man who can 
 show a very pretty property, and — is unmarried." 
 
 "But what has that to do with our affair? 
 
 "A great deal. I will pledge myself to retain pos- 
 session of Plobsheim if — we make common cause— that 
 is, if you will give me your hand as my wife." 
 
 A loud cry escaped the widow's lips. Alma's warn- 
 ing darted through her mind. The turf was still 
 fresh on the mound that covered her dear husband's 
 corpse, and Gunzer, the son of a dishonored man, the 
 nephew of a base counterfeiter, who, raised from the. 
 dust by her family, dared — not only to sue for her 
 hand, no it was now clear as daylight; the miserable 
 wretch wooed her, to obtain possession of the Plobs- 
 beixn estate, i 
 
 !^''4'i^^.v£ii^;£'^i£il<:-£^.'V. V.T. ■J^'f^i^^'i^tari'^a^^Mi'^. 
 
THE SUITOR 371 
 
 This was too much for a simple, honest nature, too 
 much for a lady like Frau von Bernhold, too much for 
 a loving wife, whose bleeding heart still mourned for 
 her lost husband, too much for a mother, who saw 
 her children's rightful inheritance threatened by the 
 rapacious greed of a scoundrel. 
 
 Proudly, but pale as death, she rose from her seat, 
 and grasped the keys of the chests containing the 
 family documents, which Giinzer had laid on the 
 table before her. Then, with a dignity usually foreign 
 to the little ladv's manner, she said: 
 
 "Herr Giinzer, you are dismissed! I will select 
 another legal adviser." 
 
 Giinzer had also risen. His face was livid, his eyes 
 darted piercing glances, an expression of cold, diabol- 
 ical scorn hovered around his lips. Yet his voice 
 trembled as he cried: "Consider what you do!" 
 
 "I consider but one thing!" replied Frau von Bern- 
 hold, "that there is still a God of eternal justice. 
 , "And you really refuse my hand?" 
 
 "I have only a contemptuous j^es in response to a 
 question so insulting." 
 
 "Consider your future and that of your children." 
 
 "Widows and orphans are in God's hands " 
 
 "You will repent this some da}'." 
 
 "Never, " cried the widow proudly, "even if you, who 
 thrived on the benefits of my family, intend some 
 knavish trick against me and my children." 
 
 With these words, Frau von Bernhold, trembling 
 
 . -^X^^J^^S-i^^^ 
 
; ", [-" ^p^ i -^,.",-ii~ *?-.---«?:??'^^^^i!S"- -! --.^.- ."*t^'-^- 
 
 % i 
 
 372 
 
 A KOY.Vr, ROBBER 
 
 from head to foot, left the room, to give way to pas- 
 sionate tears. 
 
 .,.■■" ..-ii'--;< *» 
 
 ^:^<:.i^^'.L^':^ .'^ 
 
4«j55^5IJS??i<!fjv?5":'» ;'?r 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE witch's kitchen. 
 
 "How much time yet, d'Auvaux?" 
 
 "Ten minutes." 
 
 "The deuce! I thought the hour must have come." 
 
 "Time creeps for those who wait, and flies for those 
 who feast." 
 
 "It will certainly fly only too quickl}', for the per- 
 son for whom we're brewing this broth." 
 
 "I wasn't talking of such enjoyment." 
 
 "And yet it is one." 
 . "Of course, Le Sage, you're right — a double one. 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 "Why a confoundedly bitter one for the person who 
 tastes the bitter drink, and a more consoling one to 
 the individual — who offers it." 
 
 "At any rate the latter is sure of his point." 
 
 "I think we do honor to our art." 
 
 "But the art does none to us." 
 
 "Because we are fools." 
 
 "Fools?" 
 
 "Of course! Don't we workforLa Voisin instead of 
 
 ourselves? " 
 
 "Well, she pays well." 
 
 373 
 
^V'^ -^^W^ * - ^^w»^,S5M:5»'^p^^JH^«^-»»*5¥'ff^ 
 
 374 A ROYAL ROBBER I ~ 
 
 "What is that! She gives us miserable scraps, com- 
 pared with the immense sums she pockets." 
 
 "Let's rub the fur the other way, and make her pay 
 better. " 
 
 "How will you do that?" I 
 
 "We have her in our power." . | 
 
 "And she has us in hers." j 
 
 "But the poudre de succession — isn't that our in- 
 vention? " 
 
 "Not entirely; we got it from the crafty Italian 
 Exili, the teacher of La Croix and the Marquise de 
 Brinvilliers. " » 
 
 "Don't mention those names." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Because — for very excellent reasons — I never like 
 to think of the end of those people." 
 
 "Why did they allow themselves to be caught? I 
 think there is more craft under our skulls." 
 
 "Pshaw! I wouldn't give a straw for that; the 
 pitcher goes to the well until it breaks. The only 
 thing that soothes me is, that we and La Voisin are 
 screened by our distinguished customers; haven't we 
 among them: Monsieur, the king's brother, the queen 
 herself, the Marquis d'Esiat, Comtesse Soisson, Due 
 de Launzun, Prince Cardinal de Bouillon, Grand 
 Almoner of France, Due de Saint Aignan, and many 
 other prominent personages. They will beware of 
 compromising such names." 
 
 "Possibly! But I don't rely much upon it. One 
 
 
 

 ' ;, - THE witch's kitchen 375 
 
 crow doesn't pick out another's eyes. If the king 
 should some day find himself compelled to use vigor- 
 ous measures. " 
 
 "We poor devils will be caught in the net — that's 
 true — and the great rascals will slip out." 
 
 "Don't let us think of such foolish things. For us 
 it is written to enjoy life to the dregs. If the devil 
 then leaves us in the lurch — why — the jest is done." 
 
 "And I suppose my broth is now?" 
 
 "Yes — a minute more, and it will have cooked long 
 enough." 
 
 This conversation was carried on by two priests 
 d'Auvaux and Lesage, who — in connection with Vig- 
 oureux and the famous fortune-teller La Voisin — 
 conducted the secret manufacture of poisons with such 
 success, that all France trembled. 
 
 It was they who had aided La Voisin in performing 
 the devil's mass, by means of which the Grand 
 Almoner of France, the Prince Cardinal de Bouillon, 
 accompanied by the Due de Saint Aignan, had tried 
 to discover Turenne's treasures. 
 
 During this conversation, they were in the laboratory 
 where were prepared the terrible poisons, which in those 
 days, amid the boundless immorality and corruption 
 of the French court, found such extensive use, that 
 even now it makes every honest man shudder to look 
 back to that terrible time. 
 
 The surroundings harmonized with the occupation. 
 It was a dark, gloomy, cellar-like room, a vaulted 
 
 !=lA.-.t£^_C_ 
 
r - 
 
 376 A ROYAL ROBKER 
 
 apartment in the lower story of a damp, dull house 
 in the Faubourg St. Germain. Retorts and distilling 
 apparatus of every description, alembics and crucibles 
 of various shapes, mortars and other utensils, were 
 piled along the walls and in the corners. On a wide 
 hearth, surmounted by a massive chimney, a charcoal 
 fire was burning, over which Lesage had been boiling 
 a brown liquid for an hour. 
 
 Unsavory odors rose from it, and strove to escape 
 from the room. 
 
 In a corner behind the hearth lay a dead cat, its 
 stomach horribly swollen, and its stiff limbs stretched 
 far apart. It had been used to try the effects of a 
 newly inventeci poison. 
 
 Rabbits hopped to and fro. The poor creatures did 
 not suspect that they were intended for similar exper- 
 iments. 
 
 Exili, St. Croix, the Marquise de Brinvillier, La 
 Voisin and the priests d'Auvaux and Lesage pos- 
 sessed, in the low condition of chemistry and medicine 
 at that time, wonderful knowledge and skill in the 
 preparation of poisons. 
 
 The reports of the experts of those days cannot ex- 
 press sufficient admiration for the nature and prepara- 
 tion of these deadly potions, which certainly far sur^ 
 passed all the knowledge and experience of the 
 pharmacology of that period. 
 
 The Saint Croix poisons — they say — defied all 
 attempts to apply to them the laws of chemistry. 
 
 ■■.V ■,..;£ ■'.-/.J 
 
'" THE witch's KITCHEN \ ^77 
 
 The poisonous material was so concealed that it could 
 not be perceived, and so subtle that it evaded all the 
 skill of the physicians. All rules hitherto known 
 prove useless, and all experience unavailing. To be 
 sure, the doctors themselves, owing to the number of 
 those in high position who were implicated, were not 
 disposed to discover the poison. The hens, doves, 
 and dogs, that drank some of Saint Croix's poisoned 
 water, died a short time after, it is true, but on open- 
 ing them every part of their bodies was found in a 
 perfectly natural condition, with the exception of some 
 clotted blood in the heart. 
 
 Saint Croix's powder — found after his death in a 
 little box — when administered to a cat, caused con- 
 stant vomiting and speedy death; but here also no one 
 portion of its body was found to be affected by the 
 venom. , . ' 
 
 The poisons these terrible persons prepared, no 
 longer exist to be examined by the chemists of our 
 days. Undoubtedly the principal ingredient would be 
 found to be arsenic. But it is a terrible sign of the 
 want of morality of those times, that their preparation, 
 concealment and use, could rise to the dignity of an 
 art. Exili and Saint Croix are said to have really 
 made the manufacture of poison a science. La Voisin's 
 assistants, d'Auvaux and Lesage, followed in the foot- 
 steps of these worth}' men. 
 
 Both at this moment were occupied in preparing a 
 new poison. Lesage had been boiling a brown liquid 
 
378 - A ROYAL ROBBER , „*;:' 
 
 over a charcoal fire for an hour, till it became a thick 
 mass. 
 
 Now — at the close of the conversation — he took the 
 vessel from the fire and extinguished the coals. 
 
 "There," said he, "let it cool." ^ 
 
 At this moment one of the rabbits hopped nimbly 
 up and stopped at the hearth. 
 
 A repulsive smile flitted across Lesage's face. 
 
 "So you introduce yourself," said he, turning to the 
 little creature with a touch of rude humor, "very well, 
 you shall have the honor of trying this liquor first." 
 
 "It ought to die in violent convulsions within fifteen 
 •minutes," said d'Auvaux quietly, "otherwise the potion 
 will be too weak for a man." 
 
 "You forget," rejoined Lesage, "that it isn't to kill 
 at once. Death is not to be expected until after a 
 week or fortnight and — take notice — without any start- 
 ling symptoms." 
 
 "Exili's receipts; number 35!" replied d'Auvaux, 
 nodding. 
 
 At that moment an odd, rattling noise was heard. 
 
 "La Voisin!" said Lesage, "that is her signal." 
 
 "Let her come in!" replied d'Auvaux, "I wish she 
 was obliged to 'swallow one of the drinks we brew for 
 her, and which she sells for such immense sums. 
 Then we could be independent and receive the money 
 undiminished, directly from the customer's hands.* 
 
 La Voisin entered. She was dressed richly, but with 
 the exaggeration of ornament*peculiar to persons who 
 
 ^■- ■_j-i_:-":T„^;G-63£:Saa:eii 
 
■*^'3Er?l^»K:^-^=i^«-T-^-!::-*-^'%_ <-!!:--& '^«^!^^fT''f^^?S^^^^>''"7,:-'?W^ 
 
 - - THE AVITCH's kitchen " 379 
 
 have risen from a low origin, and her by no means 
 plain features wore a very crafty expression. Her 
 color, complexion, and plumpness implied ample enjoy- 
 ment of material pleasures. 
 
 "Disagreeable news!" she said, entering and closing 
 the door behind her. "The king and court are about 
 to leave Versailles." ' 
 
 "Well, what of that," replied d'Auvaux. "They 
 are only going to spend a short time at some pleasure 
 castle." 
 
 "If that were so, who would think it worth men- 
 tioning," replied La Voisin. "But the king is going 
 farther." 
 
 Lesage shrugged his shoulders. "The king, or the 
 Duchesse de Fontanges." 
 
 "This time it is the king, " Madame Voisin answered. 
 
 "And where is he going?" asked d'Auvaux. 
 
 "To Rheims, Thionville, Metz, Nancy," ■ 
 
 "Aha!" said Lesage, laughing. "Do you notice any- 
 thing?" 
 
 "What?" inquired d'Auvaux. 
 
 "His Majesty seems to want to remain in the 
 vicinity of the Strassburg cathedral." 
 
 "It may be so!" replied the fortune-teller. "The 
 Due de St. Aignan, who called on me yesterday to 
 consult the cards about a certain matter of business, 
 told me in confidence that the court would remain 
 sonfl" time at Colmar. " 
 
 "At Colmar?" repeated Lesage and d'Auvaux. • ^^ 
 
'•"1 "3»n7 . J, ■ ' "' ■™■■SSji«Si?^•.» h*^ 
 
 380 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 "I don't believe it. What should the pleasure- 
 loving duchesse want in that old nest?" ^ 
 
 "But if the king has a special object." \ ' 
 
 "And the Duchesse de Fontanges does not desire it?" 
 
 "Pshaw!" observed La Voisin, who meantime had 
 seated herself on an old chair. "Things no longer 
 stand on the old footing." 
 
 "With the duchesse?" asked d'Auvaux with an ex- 
 pression of the utmost incredulity. ^, 
 
 "With the Duchesse de Fontanges !" replied the lady. 
 
 "You are mistaken, madame, " d'Auvaux answered 
 confidently. "The rule of the Duchesse de Fontanges 
 is firmer than ever. Don't you know the latest 
 fashion?" 
 
 "To wear the hair a la Fontanges!" said La Voisin, 
 shrugging her shoulders. • 
 
 "What sort of a story is that?" asked Lesage, who 
 meantime had been holding his sauce-pan of brown 
 liquid in a vessel of water, to cool it. 
 
 "Last week," replied d'Auvaux, "a grand hunting 
 party was given, which was attended by the whole' 
 court. There is no end of pleasure excursions and 
 amusements of every kind, since the beautiful marble 
 statue from Limagne became the object of the king's 
 devotion." 
 
 Lesage laughed loudly exclaiming: ' 
 
 "D'Auvaux is turning moralist." J 
 
 "So is the devil," replied d'Auvaux, "the c^ntry, 
 will soon be unable to bear the expense." 
 
'■'ffiyiw^^lfsgss- 
 
 ■ '. THE witch's fcltCHEN 381 
 
 ""What is that to us," observed.Lesage scornfully, 
 "we get our living from the court and distinguished 
 persons, not the common people. But we were talk- 
 ing of a new fashion?" 
 
 "Yes! " cried d'Auvaux. "On this hunting party, 
 the wind disordered the duchesse's hair and she 
 fastened it as well as she could with a ribbon. As 
 this arrangement happened to be uncommonly pretty 
 and wonderfully becoming to the duchesse, the follow- 
 ing day all the ladies of the court — princesses, duch- 
 esses, marchionesses, down to the most insignificant 
 maid of honor — :appeared with a similar ribbon in 
 their hair. " 
 
 "And this style of coiffure is now the fashion?" 
 asked Lesage. 
 
 "Yes," said La Voisin, "and is being adopted 
 throughout Europe, under the name of the coiffure k 
 la Fontanges. But does that prove anything in regard 
 to the security of the duchesse's position? Abbe 
 Choisy told me, when he visited me a short time ago, 
 that the Duchesse de Fontanges was beautiful as an 
 angel, but silly as a goose. And he is right 1 Her 
 position has turned her brain. For some time she 
 has shown an arrogance that will prove her ruin. She 
 passes the queen without any salutation, and has 
 treated Madame de Montespan with such hauteur as 
 to make the latter her mortal enemy." 
 
 "All this affords no ground to anticipate her fall!" 
 said d'Auvaux, "the king loves her to madness." 
 
382 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 "Loved!" corrected La Voisin. 
 
 "Only last week he ordered a charming suite of 
 apartments to be furnished for her, the walls of the 
 salon hung with tapestry representing his victories. 
 The witty flatterer Saint Aignan instantly wrote some 
 lines which greatly delighted the king and duchesse." 
 
 "Have you finished, d'Auvaux?" asked La Voisin. 
 
 "At your service." ' 
 
 "Then I'll tell you why I — for mypart^ — believe that 
 the earth is shaking under the feet of the beautiful 
 Duchess de Fontanges. " ' 
 
 "I am all ears fpr — if she falls, we must know to 
 whom we are to look in future. So madame, your 
 reasons!" i 
 
 "I have already mentioned that yesterday — " 
 
 "The Due de Saint Aignan visited you to consult 
 the cards." 
 
 "And what do you suppose he wanted to ascertain?" 
 
 "How should I know? ' 
 
 "Whether a certain person, who now occupies a 
 very prominent position, would remain long at the 
 helm." ' i 
 
 "The deuce!" exclamied d'Auvaux with an expres- 
 sion of the greatest astonishment. "Why if the case 
 stands so, if Saint Aignan asks Fate that question — " 
 
 "It is evident that he, who is so closely associated 
 with the king and duchesse, already has a suspicion 
 from what quarter the wind is beginning to blow. " 
 
 "Well, and what did the cards say?" .1 
 
 -.5:';!KrN;S£«*,3*cs. .i^i^iirirE??^, ... - ^-^^'-« . i J-r"i-^ 
 
^■^.~ 
 
 . ^ - THE witch's kitchen 383 
 
 "What my small share of wisdom whispered. The 
 queen of hearts was followed — after four other cards — 
 by the ace of clubs." ' 
 
 "Excellent, excellent!" cried d'Auvaux, "the pow- 
 erful favorite, after a certain time — it may be four 
 days, four weeks or four months — is to be supplanted." 
 
 "Cold!" here remarked Lesage. 
 
 "Who?" asked d'Auvaux in surprise, "the Duchesse 
 de FontangeS?" 
 
 "Nonsense," replied Lesage, "my broth." 
 
 "Then we'll try it!" replied d'Auvaux quietly, 
 seizing one of the rabbits by the ears — "here!" 
 
 Lesage took it and poured a few drops of the brown 
 liquid down its throat. 
 
 La Voisin smiled. "May it do it much good," she 
 observed. 
 
 D'Auvaux still held the poor creature firmly. 
 
 The three gloomy fiends watched it in silence with 
 eager expectation the point in question was to 
 ascertain the effect of the poison. 
 
 It was intended for human beings, and not to pro- 
 duce death immediately, therefore, according to 
 Exili's estimate, it should kill a rabbit in twenty 
 minutes. 
 
 After a few moments the little creature grew rest- 
 less, the eyes dilated, and singular movements of the 
 neck began. 
 
 Lavoisin again laughed loudly. "The rogue is co- 
 (juetting like a school girl just fledged," she observed. 
 
 .r..yiSfe^b'i'>Ws.s;„i>i3t;.L-^^ "-- ^ "■ - ■*■■:• . JW^-^iirtt'-'^^^ 
 

 384 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 ! ■ 
 
 "No, it is swallowing," observed Lesage gayly, "like 
 a courtier to whom the king has just given a pill that 
 does not want go down and yet must." 
 
 "They often burn the throat as much as my potion," 
 said Lesage, calmly watching the contortions of pain 
 made by the poor little animal. 
 
 Convulsions were already commencing, burning 
 pains and cramps in the stomach. 
 
 "It takes effect too quickly," said d'Auvaux, "the 
 poison is too strong. Convulsions ought not to take 
 place in a rabbit, in less than ten minutes at the 
 earliest. " 
 
 "They may at the end of five," replied Lesage. 
 
 "No! "said d'Anvaux. "Exili expressly says in 
 regard to the trial: in a half-grown rabbit, not before 
 ten minutes." 
 
 "What will you bet I'm not right in saying five?" 
 cried Lesage eagerly. 
 
 "Three bottles of sack." ; 
 
 "Done!" 
 
 Lesage went to an old cupboard, drew out a roll of 
 dirty papers, opened them, and following" the . lines 
 with his fingers, read a few words. Then he looked 
 up triumphantly, pointed to a passage, and exclaimed: 
 
 "What's this?" 
 
 D'Auvaux and La Voisin looked at the page. 
 
 "Five!" cried the latter gayly, "Lesage has won. "- 
 
 "Yes, 'observed d'Auvaux, "a man may be mistaken, 
 ril pay. • . - 
 
 l^.S'^Ji A-Li}^-H- i^lX/i'l/i'iif^v* 
 
^■_ .'"•■-:'::? THE witch's KITCHEN ' ■ ■" 385 
 
 "And I'll help drink the wine," observed La Voisia. 
 "We'll have as pleasant an hour as we three have ever 
 spent together. I feel ready for anything. But the 
 sack must be good and strong." 
 - 'Watch!" said d'Auvaux, "our candidate for death 
 
 is vomiting." 
 
 "Is there any blood?" 
 "No!" 
 
 "It will come! " 
 
 "Hop! hop! that's what I call convulsions!" ex- 
 '^: claimed La Voisin. "It's absurd that we are obliged 
 ?:i; to try our poisons on animals, human beings would 
 J;;, give unerring symptoms. " 
 
 ;;J "But we should be obliged to wait a week or fort- 
 
 ies night!" observed Lesage, "and our potion must be 
 ^^- delivered to-night." 
 
 '■-!'. "True!" replied La Voisin, "the customer is in a 
 ' ' great hurry." 
 
 "The customer?" 
 "I don't know who he is." 
 "But he belongs to the court?" 
 J La Voisin laid her finger on her lip, and cast a 
 
 significant glance at d'Auvaux. 
 
 "I understand!" said the latter. "Government busi- 
 ness. " . -i 
 "What is it to me?" 
 
 "Doesn't Monsieur Louvois go away early to-morrow 
 morning?" asked Lesage. 
 "So they say." 
 
 25' Robbef 
 

 386 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 Lesage hummed a song. 
 
 The rabbit was in its last convulsions. Blood 
 oozed from the mouth and nose. Its sufferings ap- 
 peared to be terrible. 
 
 "And the payment?" 
 
 "As I have already told you, d'Auvaux, princely," 
 replied the fortune-teller. "This man doesn't haggle 
 over such things." 
 
 "I believe so," cried Lesage laughing. "It costs him 
 nothing." 
 
 Only divide honestly," said d'Auvaux, with a 
 meaning glance at Lesage, which the latter answered 
 by a look at La Voisin. 
 
 "As usual!" replied La Voisin. 
 
 "Done!" exclaimed Lesage at the same moment. 
 
 "The rabbit is dead." 
 
 He took up the little creature and tossed it beside 
 the dead cat. 
 
 "The poison is all right." 
 
 "If it isn't too strong." ! 
 
 "Then a smaller dose must be used." ^ 
 
 'But I must know exactly how many drops to a 
 glass of wine," said La Voisin — "death is not to ensue 
 for a week or fortnight. " 
 
 "Without any extraordinary symptoms?" 
 
 "Yes. That is the express condition." 
 
 "Man, woman, or child?" I 
 
 "Man!" . ' /--'M 
 
 "How old?'^ ^ ' 
 
 . ^ , j.,iS-,^'t , 
 
' THE witch's kitchen 387 
 
 "About sixty." 
 
 "Strong?" 
 
 "Not very!" 
 
 "Then five drops will do it." -. 
 
 "Very well." 
 
 "And when shall we get our money?" 
 
 "You shall have it to-night, wlien we drink 3^our 
 three bottle of sack in the secret room in my house, ' 
 replied La Voisin, with a repulsive glance at her 
 companions. "I will provide a supper of which Mon- 
 seigneur Louvois himself need not be ashamed." - 
 
 "But three bottles won't be enough." 
 
 "Then I'll add three more," replied La Voisin. 
 
 Lesage and d'Auvaus laughed. 
 
 "We have worked, now we will feast." 
 
 "As people make their way honestly in the world." 
 
 "One thing more before we part!" said d'Auvaux, 
 turning to La Voisin, as Lesage pushed. back the bolt. 
 "Why did you seem so disturbed about the news, 
 that the court would leave Versailles for some time?" 
 
 "As if we should not as good as lie fallow in con- 
 sequence." 
 
 "Then we'll rest a short time on our laurels. Be-' 
 sides you won't lack fortune-telling, prophesies of the 
 future, etc." 
 
 "Trumpery," replied La Voisin. "But, before I 
 forget it: Madame de Montespan is beguiling the 
 weary hours in a singular way." 
 
 "Probably by prayers; that's usually the end of 
 votaries of pleasure." 
 
 
 J 
 
388 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 "Possibly! But—" 1 
 
 "Well?" I 
 
 "The lonely woman is now seeking — the philosopher's 
 stone." 
 
 "She ought to have done that before the Duchesse 
 de Fontanges took the helm," 
 
 "Jesting aside, ' said La Voisin, and her eyes ex- 
 pressed as much as her words, "she is pursuing the 
 study of alchemy. " 
 
 "Who says so!" 
 
 "She informed me by a confidential servant and asks 
 — for some chemicals. " I 
 
 "Aha!" exclaimed Lesage with a malicious smile. 
 
 "But there must be no poisonous substances among 
 them." 
 
 "I understand!" said Lesage, "I'll give her what is 
 necessary." 
 
 "Then bring it this evening; the servant is coming 
 for it to- day." 
 
 "Tt shall be done." 
 
 The three left the room. 
 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE DUCHESSE DE FONTANGES. 
 
 Fourteen miles from Strassburg and ninety-six from 
 Paris is the little city of Colmar 
 
 Under the French monarch}-, Colmar ('Colnmbaria> 
 was only a farm which gradually increased to a village. 
 The Emperor Charlemange established here a work- 
 house for women, while the Emperor Friedrich II 
 raised it to the rank of a city, which increased rapidly 
 in size. 
 
 Soon after 1282 Colmar entered the ranks of the free 
 German cities and- retained its position until in 1673, 
 Louis XIV took violent possession of it. demolished 
 its fortifications, and destro5^ed its freedom. 
 
 Since that time Colmar had ceased to flourish, but 
 now a new star seemed to have risen on ancient Col- 
 umbaria, for- the inhabitants themselves scarcely 
 realized it — Louis XIV and his court had spent several 
 days within its walls. 
 
 The venerable Rathhaus had been transformed into 
 a royal palace. 
 
 The modest little city and its inhabitants realh' 
 
 did not know what had happened to them, but as it 
 
 rained gold, and ever}^ service was liberally rewarded, 
 
 389 
 
^*rK='-T-^.ii^lE5> 
 
 390 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 they cheerfully submitted Lodgings and provisions 
 reached fabulous prices and yet the most necessary 
 food could scarcely be procured. Princes and noble- 
 men, marchionesses and duchesses were often obliged 
 — for want of better things — to satisfy their hunger 
 -with milk and cheese. Lodgings and beds were in- 
 ferior to those occupied in Versailles and Paris by 
 their lowest servants. But — after the first painful 
 surprise, the French temperament came to their aid. 
 With but few exceptions, all viewed the matter from 
 its comic side. 
 
 At the close of every day the most aristocratic ladies 
 glided out of the houses in the simple costumes of Col- 
 mar burgher women and girls^ which they had borrowed 
 from their servants, and the gentlemen of course did 
 the same. True, they did not also put on the plebeian 
 virtues of the worthy citizens of Colmar, and Versailles 
 and Paris might perhaps have marveled if they had 
 witnessed what Colmar saw at this time. 
 
 The whole visit of the court was really an idyl of 
 rural life composed of countless amusing episodes. 
 The affair was new and piquant. Even the king was 
 said not to have remained entirely aloof from the 
 romance. 
 
 But Louis XIV and his ministers Louvois and Col- 
 bert were not the men to undertake a journey like this 
 for a mere whim or pastoral romance. Beneath the 
 glittering cloak of this original and truly French 
 caprice, the great serious drama of the time went on. 
 
 :^JJ^'>- f"rrtt; T." : i.iji . jSk '"■ 
 
^v : ; THE DUCHESSE OF FONTANGES 391 
 
 Never had the intercourse between the French court 
 and the neighboring city of Strassburg been more con- 
 stant, or at the same time so little likely to arouse 
 anxiety. 
 
 France had most positively denied any knowledge 
 of the conspiracy connected with the Franciscan mon- 
 astery,^ throwing the whole responsibility on the 
 monks, and their superior. 
 
 True, the latter with his followers had instantly 
 crossed the frontier and sought the protection of 
 France, but the affair must be allowed to remain as 
 it was for the present. An}' farther steps — in opposi- 
 tion to so powerful a neighbor — would be dangerous 
 and unwise. 
 
 Louis XIV now seemed to intend to soothe the ex- 
 citement prevailing in Strassburg as speedily as pos- 
 sible, for he and his ministers were overflowing with 
 friendly sentiments. 
 
 This was especially the case when the court came 
 into the immediate vicinity of Strassburg. Assurances 
 of the utmost friendship were lavished on the citizens. 
 France desired nothing but the welfare and prosperity 
 of the city; and it was only because it was so com- 
 pletely left in the lurch by emperor and empire that 
 Louis XIV desired to take it under his protection. 
 
 The French ambassador had plenty of occupation in 
 "transmitting these professions of friendship, orally and 
 in writing, to the magistrates of Strassburg. The 
 partisans of France, the timid and time-serving mag- 
 
 -*tI:sSii'.J::^"« j£S^ai«i^>riii -tpSf-'sfc!: >^t?.„ i^^'--. 
 
^rgstw^" ». *rvc;jF=K?^^SaP - 
 
 392 A ROYAT- ROBBER ' • l_ ' 
 
 istrates, were radiant with delight; the warnings of 
 the other party, who saw in these maneuvers only a 
 diplomatic snare, fell on empty air. j 
 
 Nay, the government of Strassburg even resolved 
 to send deputies to convey a greeting to the king of 
 France during his stay in Colmar. 
 
 Syndicus Frantz, Giinzer as "le rnignon connu dc 
 la France," and several other members of the magis- 
 tracy were chosen. 
 
 Frantz positively declined; but Giinzer exerted all 
 his influence to induce the Syndicus to accept the 
 honor. The king expressed a desire to see Syndicus 
 Frantz at the head of the embassy. 
 
 Under these circumstances, a refusal from the Syn- 
 dicus would have been a violation of diplomatic 
 custom, nay — an act of cowardice. Frantz therefore 
 consented, though with a heavy heart. The bravs 
 man opposed a quiet resolution to the fears of his wifa 
 and child, the warnings of Hugo, but in the silence 
 of the night set his house in order, made every need- 
 ful preparation In case he did not return — or died. 
 
 Thus the day arrived which His Majesty had 
 graciously appointed to receive the ambassadors sent 
 from Strassburg to greet him. 
 
 The embassy was a pompous one, and — like all 
 such city affairs — arranged in the style of the Middk 
 Ages. 
 
 The ambassadors traveled in five clumsy state- 
 coaches, i 
 
 
~- ; . . THE DUCHESSE OF FONTANGES 393 
 
 In the first sat two heralds, attired in the colors of 
 the city, with the armorial bearings of Strassburg on 
 their breasts and backs, and white wands in their 
 hands. 
 
 The four following coaches contained the magis- 
 trates: Dominique Dietrich, Johann Leonliard Fror- 
 elsen, Johann Storr, Giinzer, and Syndicus Frantz. 
 
 Frantz drove alone with Hugo von Zedlitz, v/ho 
 
 would not be denied the privilege of accompanying 
 
 - the worthy man, the father of his beloved Alma, as 
 
 r: his private secretary. Hugo clearly perceived the 
 
 %^ Syndicus' dangerous situation. 
 
 It was still early — that is, early for people whose 
 :- real life begins at night, and who measure the morn- 
 £: ing according to the position of the noon-da}- sun — when 
 ^1^ Saint Aignan called on the Duchesse de Fontanges. 
 
 - Only the king had the right to enter her apartment 
 unannounced at this hour. 
 
 The duchesse was in a bewitching morning-dress. 
 
 "■ A robe of white India muslin, so light and delicate 
 
 • that it floated around the beautiful figure like an airy 
 
 cloud, revealing the luster of the white satin dress 
 
 beneath, but partially concealed her matchless sym- 
 
 j- metry of form. 
 
 Laces of priceless value encircled her throat, wrists, 
 and bust, fastened coquettishly here and there by 
 
 - clasps of pearls 
 
 The complexion of this singular woman was like 
 '-- white marble, alabaster, while the magnificent red 
 
' ^s^^^x^^v^*^"^^ ^ " " " 1 ■ ■^■■'?*3 
 
 ■; -r' 
 
 394 A ROYAL ROBBER | "' 
 
 i ■ v, 
 
 hair surrounded her as if with a halo of gold. 
 
 Angeline de Fonta^iges was beautiful as a queen; 
 but proud as one, and this pride, blended with her 
 peculiar cold manner and want of sprightliness, gave 
 her of late — since it .constantly increased — a somewhat 
 harsh, imperious, repellant air. 
 
 This was felt by no one more keenly than Saint 
 Aignan. It was he, who — aided by Madame de Mont- 
 espan — had brought the insignificant little Angeline to 
 the court of France and paved the way for her to 
 reach her present power. It was he, who had at first 
 stood by her side to counsel and protect her, she had 
 given him her entire confidence, been guided by him, 
 served him and his wishes against the king, nay even, ^ 
 in some bright hours, bestowed upon him the gift of 
 her heart. True, this was not wholly discontinued, 
 but Angeline's inate vanity, fostered by the royal 
 luxury that surrounded her, so increased her pride 
 and love of authority that she strove to rule Saint 
 Aignan like all the rest. 
 
 But Saint Aignan had brooight her to the court, in 
 order, through her, to rule the king. He did so still, 
 externally wearing the chains of the lovely Duchesse 
 de Fontanges with the patience of a crafty courtier, 
 but irritated by the pride and imperiousness of a 
 creature whom he had raised and to whom he was 
 greatly superior in intellect, a certain coldness had : 
 come between them. 
 
 Although passion may blaze fiercely in the breast of i 
 a libertine, it is of no long duration. 
 
THE DUCHESSE OF FONTANGES 395 
 
 Saint Aignan's keen eye had for some time per- 
 ceived something else, something that always produces 
 an effect upon every courtier; he fancied that the king 
 shared his feelings. - 
 
 The duchesse undoubtedly now stood at the height 
 of her power; the luxury with which Louis XIV sur- 
 rounded her was truly royal— the king still loved her, 
 but— since the night when he had found Gauthier in 
 her presence and arrested him, a worm had gnawed 
 the flower of his love. 
 
 Louis XIV doubtless saw with pleasure that the 
 object of his love looked down with royal pride on all 
 the world save himself; nay he even secretly rejoiced 
 in the humiliations she inflicted upon the queen, but 
 in the depths of his heart — so contradictory men often 
 are — did not forgive Angeline these insults to majesty. 
 
 No symptoms of all this escaped Saint Aignan's 
 keen, watchful eyes. He knew his lord and king 
 thoroughly, knew his great and feeble traits of char- 
 acter, his truly royal generosity where he loved, and 
 his destructive fury when rage took possession of him, 
 but above all else he knew — his inconstancy in love. 
 It was not intellect but mere phj^sical beauty, tha 
 novelty and peculiarity of her loveliness, that charmed 
 the king in Angeline. 
 
 But Saint Aignan knew how feeble was such a bond 
 to a Louis XIV. He saw how, like a good general, 
 the king, in the midst of his love, was storing in his 
 heart an arsenal of defensive weapons, ia order at a 
 
39^ A ROYAL ROBBER , 
 
 fitting moment, tiiat is when satiety overtook him, 
 to be duly prepared for a back stroke. I v 
 
 Thus Saint Aignan now had a double task, and this 
 was to sustain and uphold Angeline's influence over 
 the king — behind which he himself stood — as long as 
 possible; but on the other hand, carefully watch the 
 barometer of royal favor towards the Duchesse de 
 Fontanges, in order as soon as it perceptibly fell, to 
 withdraw from the person who was sure to be speedily 
 out of favor. 
 
 The sun of the royal favor was still shining upon 
 Angeiine with all its power and brilliancy, keeping 
 the little clouds of single instances of disapproval far 
 below the horizon. And indeed the charming object 
 of the king's love made the utmost use of this favor. 
 One brilliant entertainment, one pleasure followed an- 
 other wtih dizzy, intoxicating haste. i 
 
 True, there were many thoughts in Angeline's mind 
 that needed stiiiing; the pangs of conscience, the 
 memory of a mother who had gone to her grave in 
 grief and shame at her daughter's fall, and above all 
 things, the recollection of Gauthier. i 
 
 Did she even know whether he was alive or dead? 
 If the repose of the grave did not yet surround the 
 victim, then — oh! the thought was terrible — he was 
 buried alive in the Bastille. Buried alive on account 
 of his love for her — for her, who, in reward for her 
 treachery to him, was revelling in royal luxury, wealth, 
 pov.ei" and sph-ndor. : 
 
 *-.-^kii'?';%**?'^.t'i?..''i'^i'vJkc-£ii;ftii-T;^.rt 
 
_. - _ ■ THE DUCHK^iSF- OF TOXTAXGES 397 
 
 V 
 
 This was the cause of the perpetual entertainments, 
 the whirl of pleasure and amusement which devoured 
 millions and 3^et — could not deaden her conscience. 
 
 Saint Aignan had just entered the apartments of the 
 Duchesse de Fontanges. 
 
 Angeline in her white, airy, neglig^ attire looked 
 like a fairy rising from a lily. 
 
 The nobleman greeted her with this complim.ent, 
 and taking her little hand, pressed a light kiss upon it. 
 
 The duchesse — accustomed to such homage — re- 
 ceived both with a proud smile. She already con- 
 sidered herself the real queen of France. But this 
 imprudent pride and arrogance were the first symptoms 
 that made Saint Aignan fear her fall. He knew what 
 the real queen thought of them, and that — deeply 
 insulted — she with her whole party, the party of the 
 highest nobilit}^ were laboring to prejudice Angeline 
 de Fontanges in the eyes of the king. 
 
 He did not fail to give the duchesse many hints of 
 this, but they were rarely understood. Usually, ac- 
 cording to his habit, they were veiled by anecdotes. 
 
 To-day he pursued the same course. In order to 
 make the duchesse think of her own position, he 
 turned the conversation with consummate skill to the 
 beautiful, gentle, and imfortunate la Valliere, one of 
 the first of her predecessors. The new coiffure a la 
 Fontanges served to introduce the subject. 
 
 They had spoken of her and several whimsical fash- 
 ions, when Saint Aignan suddenly exclaimed; 
 
 - .::5*S:S2^ir:<!^"£-i 
 
3<j8 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 "But I'll wager, fair duchesse, that you don't yet 
 know the oddest of all feminine fashions." 
 
 "And this is? — " asked Angelina. • 
 
 "When the Marquise de Montespan was about to 
 become a mother, she invented a new costume, dressed 
 herself precise] \' like a man, with the exception of a 
 petticoat, over the belt of which the shirt was puffed 
 in such a manner as to conceal her figure." 
 
 "Pshaw!" cried the duchesse, "that couldn't have 
 been a pretty style." 
 
 "And yet it was instantly adopted by all the ladies 
 of the court. Strangely enough, from that moment all 
 the courtiers deserted the poor Duchesse de la Val- 
 Jiere. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Because, "said Saint Aignan, with apparent care- 
 lessness, but in a very peculiar tone, "because the 
 favor bestowed upon Madame de Montespan foretold 
 La Valliere's fall. All went over to the side of the 
 marquise, and this was solely because poor La Val- 
 liere, striving solely to please the king, never thought' 
 of making friends." 
 
 "Was it not enough that the king was her friend," 
 cried the Duchesse de Fontanges proudly, raising her 
 beautiful head as if a heavy crown rested upon it. 
 
 "That did not seem to be the opinion of the 
 Marechal de Grammont. " 
 
 "How so?" asked Angeline with a little pout. 
 
 "Why?" replied Saint Aignan gayly, "when the 
 
^'^Sif^^'^sln^isy 
 
 .-^Z' ■ -^^ THE PUCKESSE OF FONTANGES 399 
 
 'Duchesse de la ValHere complained to him of her 
 sudden fall, he answered: 'Deuce take it, my friend, 
 while you had reason to laugh, you ought to have 
 made others laugh, too; then when you now have 
 cause to weep, others would at least help you.'" 
 ; The Duchesse de Fontanges smiled scornfully and 
 then, gazing at her image in the mirror, said, that 
 -"La Valiere was a foolish child. People should under- 
 stand how to bind His Majesty with stronger chains, 
 and forever." 
 
 The Due de Saint Aignan, who stood before Angeline 
 • — the latter was reclining in a costly arm-chair — hold- 
 ing his plumed hat in his hand, smiled craftily, as he 
 bowed and answered: 
 
 "A task that cannot be difficult for a lady so beauti- 
 ful and intellectual as Madame la Duchesse." 
 
 "A stool!" said Angeline. 
 
 A page placed one about four feet from the duch- 
 esse's chair and — Saint Aignan bowed and accepted it. 
 . The conversation now turned upon the approaching 
 event of the day: the audience given the embassy 
 from Strassburg; but Angeline did not care for 
 politics, she wanted amusem.ent, even now, besides 
 she was mortally tired of Colmar. 
 
 "Help tne pass away the time! St. Aignan," she ex- 
 claimed with a yawn, "tell me one of your thousand 
 finecdotes. You can be entertaining when you choose." 
 ■ The due bit his lips but bowed and smiled. 
 
 Hours passed in lively conversation with Saint Aig- 
 

 400 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER'- 
 
 
 nan, who as usual was full of witticisms and anec- 
 dotes. ,. 
 Far more serious was the manner in which these 
 hours were spent by others. 
 
 
 •"*i 
 
C-v-; ?:'!n<5i5*r'Si-' 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 AN AUDIENCE. 
 
 The great audience took place in the hall of the 
 ancient Rathh&us, whose walls had been hung with 
 costly tapestry and furnished as handsomely as the 
 short time and long distance from Paris would permit. 
 Everywhere glittered the royal arms of France, only 
 from the center of the ceiling — as if in mockery — 
 looked down the escutcheon of Austria, carved in wood. 
 
 Louis XIV had appeared with his whole court, 
 since he desired to awe the ambassadors from Strass- 
 burg by every means in his power. All shone in 
 velvet and silk, glittered with gold, silver and jewels, 
 and all this splendor was surpassed by the galaxy of 
 beautiful women, who never failed to surround the 
 most gallant sovereign of the age. 
 
 Louis XIV had taken his seat upon a lofty throne. 
 Around him stood the princes of the blood, as well as 
 his ministers Louvois and Colbert. 
 
 These, however, were only stars of the first magni- 
 tude; they were surrounded by the other nobles of 
 France and dignitaries of the kingdom, nor were 
 authors and artists in every department lacking. 
 
 Louis Xiy liked to have his surroundings harmonize 
 
 26 - m\ 
 
'■ 'T 
 
 402 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 ■■■' ./ ■ ■ * ■ 
 
 with the epithet of "great," bestowed upon him by his 
 century. 
 
 And now, preceded by the two heralds, appears be- 
 fore this brilliant assembly, the simple citizens of 
 Strassburg: Ammeister Dominique Dietrich, Syndi- 
 cus Frantz, Giinzer and the magistrates Froreisen and 
 Hecker. 
 
 Their plain, black costume formed a striking con- 
 trast to the ladies and gentleman of the court, glitter- 
 ing in garments of every hue, adorned with the most 
 superb embroidery of gold and silver and ornaments of 
 flashing jewels— but no less marked was the difference 
 in their demeanor. 
 
 None of these hearts felt any emotion of fear, yet 
 iull these men were pale, except Giinzer, who, familiar 
 with the court and its life, remained unawed by the 
 imposing aspect Louis XIV and his brilliant train, 
 could not fail to present to the others. 
 
 Yet the innate dignity of Ammeister Dietrich and 
 5yndicus Frantz was clearly apparent; they advanced 
 with calm, grave, measured steps and, after bowing 
 low before the king, held their heads steadily and 
 proudly erect as beseems a free man — even when he 
 stands in the presence of kings and emperors. 
 
 But Louis XIV was unusually gracious to-day. 
 
 He listened with a smile to the salutation addressed 
 to him by Gunzer, in the name of the magistrates of 
 Strassburg. The crafty speaker knew how to utter 
 them in such a way that they appeared to express far 
 greater devotion than had been intended. 
 
 ^ A _i' ^'i^'^^iW' . 
 
AN AUDIENCE 403 
 
 The same gracious reception was bestowed upon the 
 costly gift, which Ammeister Dietrich, in the name of 
 the city, as a token of respect and neighborly kindness 
 laid at the feet of the king of France. 
 
 Louis XIV uttered the most friendly thanks, and 
 never — according to his assurances — had the throne of 
 France been occupied by a monarch who bore such 
 good will to Strassburg as himself. 
 
 The king's words flowed like honey and evidently 
 produced a marked effect upon all the ambassadors — ■ 
 except Syndicus Frantz. While the heads of the others 
 were bowed lower and lower in gratitude and reverence, 
 he alone remained erect with a cold, grave expression 
 upon his features. 
 
 - This could not escape the eagle eye of Louis XIV 
 — besides, he was also fully aware of the Syndicus' 
 views. He therefore suddenly paused and then said 
 in his slow, impressive manner: 
 
 "And you do not agree with our views, Syndicus 
 Frantz?" 
 
 "No, your Majesty" replied Syndicus Frantz, 
 quietly but firmly. 
 
 "And why not?" asked the king, with a look that 
 would have made any one else tremble. "We do not 
 wish to force the good city of Strassburg to anything, 
 although according to natural boundaries and the 
 claims of the Reunions- Kammern, it belongs to France. 
 According to our opinion, however, the worthy citizens 
 of Strassburg ought to be wise enough to place them- 
 
■- ';- ;?;,^*3»gt^--<' ' V. -^■- />V--rTi?-^^ .'-iy^-i^-;'- ■v'^^S-*^,-* "■?^*r^7?'S^ig^ 
 
 404 ' A ROYAL ROBBER '■; ' 
 
 selves under the protecting wings of our power. Is 
 not this your view, Syndicus?" , 
 
 "No, your Majesty!" replied Frantz again. 
 
 A death-like stillness prevaded the hall. 
 
 Giinzer, Dietrich, and the others stood in terror. 
 
 "Then express your opinion," said the king, after a 
 short pause, "and do so frankly, we desire and expect 
 perfect sincerity." 
 
 Frantz stood with his figure drawn up to its full 
 height, but a death-like pallor overspread his face, 
 the great moment, as he had anticipated had come. 
 
 Syndicus Frantz now began: 
 
 "Your Majesty! " he cried — and his voice sounded 
 so full and sonorous that all present started. "Your 
 Majesty, Strassburg, the ancient, free, German city, 
 has sent us here to offer a friendly and reverent greet- 
 ing to her distinguished neighbor, the King of France, 
 Louis XIV, whom the world calls great. 
 
 "Surely no mortal man will deny the greatness of 
 Louis XIV when he looks at France and beholds the 
 progress this great and beautiful country has made 
 under 3'our Majesty's government. France rules sea 
 and land, prospers by commerce and manufactures, 
 surpasses all the other kingdoms of Europe by the 
 luster Louis XIV has fostered, in the realms of poetry 
 and art. 
 
 "Corneille and Racine divide the scepter of tragedy 
 boasting of being the representatives of modern ele- 
 gance, the successors of the Greeks. Molierfe pro- 
 
 ;v,.*i-; .r£::^E*^'i.:'^>:i:i!&r=*&i' 
 
;,; y r- - ^ AN AUDIENCE ' 405 
 
 duces his masterpieces. La Fontaine writes his fables, 
 
 Bossuet his history, Fenelon his Tel^maque. Boileau 
 
 will cease to write when Louis XIV ceases to live, 
 
 t?;: since he will then have no campaign in Holland, no 
 
 ^j- passage of the Rhine to record. 
 
 ";• : "And not onl}^ by poesy, the arts, and sciences, 
 p^' but also by a Avise fostering of manufactures 30ur 
 |v Majesty has understood how to make France superior 
 l^' to all the countries that surround her. Not a year 
 -" passes unmarked by the creation of new factories. 
 Forty-four thousand looms are in motion in the king- 
 ^; -dom, French cloth and silk, carpets, and hangings, 
 f' laces and mirrors surpass those of all the world. 
 ;. -, "And — what shall I say of your Majesty's armies > 
 ?; . Here my lips are silent where the names of Cond^, 
 Turenne, Luxemburg, Catinat and Baudone speak, and 
 --- — history asserts her prerogative. 
 
 "Your Majesty, I willing and loudly proclaim that 
 0}^- the man who would not call Louis XIV the great, 
 
 V would call down disgrace upon himself. 
 
 r "Therefore Strassburg sends us, and this homage 
 
 J- we cheerfully lay at your Majesty's feet. 
 p' •• "But, Sire, permit us, citizens of Strassburg, to also 
 ;- - have the pleasure of calling Louis XIV the just. 
 
 "Strassburg is an ancient, free, German city. She 
 ^ - honors the king of France as her distinguished and 
 >.; powerful neighbor; but in this very power she places 
 '^' her trust — that it will not be abused." 
 
 V Louis XIV sat motionless, not a muscle of his face 
 moved. 
 
 . -;i.'4t^V'^:^;'4.iiia^-^-avii-^;:^3;i;iiJ,^";:t 
 
; :f^^' -"^g^r-^'^ST^SJ'!;^ ;?^;: -f: 
 
 406 A KOYAL ROBBER 
 
 "Strassburg," continued Syndicus Frantz, "Strass- 
 burg is German and wishes to remain German. Strass- 
 burg is a free city, and desires and will guard her free- 
 dom, and — we are sure of this: that Louis XIV, who 
 is called 'the great,' will show this greatness, the 
 nobility of his nature, by protecting Strassburg's free- 
 dom and independence, and honoring the loyalty with 
 v/hich she clings to the German empire. 
 
 "But if your Majesty asks: why does the German 
 empire leave Strassburg so isolated, I have a reply, 
 which it is true also contains a heavy accusation 
 against German princes. The aristocracy of the em- 
 pire are thus careless of Strassburg's interests, because 
 the point in question concerns only a free city, and 
 not a princely house. 
 
 "But it is not princely to uphold themselves and 
 their power by the oppression of the middle classes, 
 by the destruction of the freedom of individual cities, 
 by the arbitrary abolition of their well-earned rights! 
 It is not princely, I say, and in direct opposition to 
 real greatness. This is the conviction of the citizens 
 of Strassburg and this, sire, is surely your Majesty's 
 opinion. A great heart can only have noble feelings, 
 as a lofty soul can only act in a generous, high-minded 
 manner." 
 
 Louvois* face here grew crimson with anger. Louis 
 XIV still sat motionless, only from time to time his 
 eyes darted furious glances at the bold speaker. - 
 
 Syndicus Frantz noticed neither; carried away by 
 
 ^ " '..V-Ui^- i i:.' 'A^i'5.— 
 
AN AUDIENCE 407 
 
 his subject, he continued to delineate with bold strokes 
 the perfidious policy of the time, without, however, 
 directly mentioning the King of France. Then, sud- 
 denly turning to the latter, he cried: 
 
 "To pursue such a policy is not worthy of Louis 
 XIV! He knows that the people hate the conflicts- 
 of ambition and selfishness, that history — that eternal 
 tribunal of the world — condemns them. Your Majest3''s . 
 keen eyes will see through the veil of mist that dims 
 the sight of so many men, will penetrate it and per- 
 ceive that the consequences of this wretched policy of 
 ambition and selfishness may easily form illusions; that 
 they may lead to complications and wars, which must 
 drench the world with blood and ruin, and might be 
 capable of shattering all existing relations. 
 
 "The German is peaceful — the German values nothing 
 more than an honorable and lasting peace. His heart 
 is large and full of love for mankind. Therefore he 
 hates neither France nor the French nation. Does 
 not envy it what it is and has. But the German heart 
 also throbs for its most sacred possessions: its honor 
 and native land. If the attack on these should exhaust 
 his patience, evil consequences might ensue and even 
 to the powerful. It will and must be so, when the 
 policy of the strong is that of ambition and selfishness. 
 
 "But no, no, I repeat it, Louis XIV cannot pursue 
 such a policy, his heart is too generous, his soul too 
 noble; he, whom history adorns with the name of "the 
 great" will, cannot fail to, act nobly. 
 
'-'■~~'^irrY^-^-!i-:^rg^-^!i>K.^^ -^ ^^ 
 
 c 
 
 408 ' A ROYAL ROBBER- - |- . ,. " 
 
 "And it will be noble to honor in the ancient free 
 German city — that desires to remain German — nation- 
 ality, freedom and independence I 
 
 "In this sense, sire, the citizens of Strassburg greet 
 Louis XIV as their distinguished neighbor and rely 
 upon his justice and the protection of their rights." 
 
 Syndicus Frantz paused. A death-like stillness pre- 
 vailed. Giinzer and his companions stood pale, rigid 
 motionless. 
 
 The king did not move; but those nearest heard the 
 grinding of his teeth, the deep,, heavy breathing which, 
 forcibly repressed, with difficulty escaped his lips, 
 
 All eyes were fixed upon him. But Louis XIV had 
 already regained his composure. Life on and by a 
 throne is one scene of dissimulation from the cradle 
 to the grave. 
 
 Gently — nay, even with a smile— he bent his head, 
 then said slowly, putting a jnarked emphasis upon 
 each syllable: 
 
 "We love sincerity and respect the opinion of ever}' 
 individual. Let the ambassadors from Strassburg 
 present to their city our greeting and the assurances of 
 our favor. The fate of Strassburg lies very near our 
 lieart. We will not lose sight of it." 
 
 With these words, the king rose, making a sign to 
 Louvois. 
 
 The marquis instant!) approached, followed by 
 five pages, each of whom bore a gold chain on a velvet 
 cushion. 
 
, ^!i!f^^!!^''!fr^^g^<'ir^'^-VS^^l^i:^f^ii^Jspv^!^Ji!Si>t'' - 
 
 AN AUDIENCE 409 
 
 With flattering words the minister stated that His 
 Majesty desired to honor the ambassadors, and in 
 them the good city of Strassburg, by presenting each 
 with a gold chain. 
 
 Then, at Louvois' signal, Giinzer, Dietrich, and the two 
 others advanced, receiving with low bows the gift Mon- 
 seigneur Louvois presented under the eyes of the king. 
 
 But when Louvois requested Syndicus Frantz to 
 come nearer, the latter quietly, but firmly, refused the 
 gift, saying with a smile, that chains were chains 
 whether forged of gold or iron. A free man ought to 
 wear none save those of the love that bound him to 
 his native land. 
 
 A death-like pallor glided over the countenance of 
 the king, but Louvois said with a scornful laugh: 
 
 "Consistency is a virtue! Your Majesty surely will 
 not dismiss this worthy republican without any token 
 of your favor; so as he has such a horror of chains, 
 which ought never to bind him in life, your Majesty 
 will perhaps allow me to offer him the cup of honor." 
 
 "Yes!" said the king, in a curt, cold tone, yet there 
 was a slight tremor in his voice as he uttered the 
 short word. 
 
 Louvois motioned towards the corner of the hall; 
 two pages approached, one bearing a gold cup, the 
 other a gold flagon, on salvers of the same metal. 
 
 Louvois filled the cup. 
 
 Frantz could not refuse the wine without offering 
 the king a direct insult. 
 

 > 410 A ROYAL ROBBER " \ 
 
 Bowing to the monarch, he raised the cup to his 
 lips. 
 
 But at the same instant the Syndicus perceived the 
 Bishop of Strassburg standing behind Louvois. I 
 
 The sight pierced him like a dagger. He merely 
 - sipped the wine and after swallowing a single mouth- 
 ful returned it to Louvois. 
 
 T The king left the hall. The audience was over. 
 Courtiers and ambassadors withdrew. 
 
 At the door of the Rathhaus stood Hugo von Zed- 
 litz, waiting anxiously for the Syndicus. 
 
 He started at the pallor of the worthy man, who 
 had become his second father. 
 
 "It is nothing," said Frantz, "I am only a little ex- 
 cited. Let us get on to our lodgings." 
 
 But on the way the Syndicus grew still paler. 
 
 "What is the matter, father?" Hugo again asked 
 anxiously. 
 
 "It will pass away," said Frantz, "the excitement 
 has made me ill, I feel some pain and am very 
 thirsty. " , 
 
 They reached the lodgings of the Strassburg ambas- 
 sadors, and the Syndicus asked for some meat and 
 bread and a mug of wine. 
 
 But, good Heavens, where under present circum- 
 stances were wine and meat to be procured in the 
 ^ little city of Colmar for anyone not belonging to the 
 ; highest rank of nobility? 
 
 Even for gold, Hugo von Zedlitz could obtain 
 
 

 - , - AN AUDIENCE ^H 
 
 nothing except a mug of milk which was very greasj. 
 -Necessity has no law, Syndicus Frantz was tor- 
 tured by a terrible thirst. He drained the milk with 
 long, eager draughts. 
 
 :\ , 
 
M^-""'" -r ■''---.. ^' ■f:#f?''?^S-^ 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 i 
 
 DARKNESS AND SORROW. I 
 
 Deep stillness pervaded Syndicus Frantz's sleeping 
 room. Although broad day, the window curtains were 
 drawn, so that a gloomy darkness filled the spacious 
 apartment, while the low, monotonous ticking of the 
 clock increased the uncomfortable air of mystery. 
 The bed-curtains were also so nearly closed that only a 
 narrow space afforded a glimpse of the person sleep- 
 ing within, and this was Syndicus Frantz himself. 
 • Frantz had returned from the audience at Colmar 
 seriously ill. ' 
 
 It was no acute disease that attacked him, but a 
 strange languor confined him to his bed. 
 
 Medical science in those days was at a very low 
 ebb, and as the Syndicus' s family physician was a 
 plain, good-natured man, but by no means a remarka-* 
 bly skillful doctor, the cause of the sickness remained 
 a mystery. The first symptoms were burning pains 
 and cramps in the stomach, followed by vomiting, 
 thirst, and severe suffering, but gradually these symp- 
 toms passed away and then came remarkable weakness 
 and desire to sleep, both of which had so increased 
 
 during the week since his return, that the physician 
 
 4ia ! 
 
 .t,-MBj> . ^ ^^. .w.i»..r:,^. A. .9>'^<te'^ .-^.-^avi^ifl „' 
 
\ ' DARKNESS AND SORROW 413 
 
 was wholly at a loss, while Hedwig, Alma and Hugo, 
 and a large number of the citizens, were in the great- 
 est anxiety. 
 
 This was the case with Wenck; but some other 
 thought also oppressed him. Wenck seemed com- 
 pletely transformed, som.ething evidently weighed 
 heavily on his mind; he was more silent than ever, 
 and instead of his favorite: "Who knows what good it 
 may do!" only shook his head gloomily. 
 - Some dark, terrible thought — that was evident — 
 must be haunting him, but he did not express it to 
 anyone, even Hugo von Zedlitz. 
 
 Frantz still lay wholly destitute of strength, in a 
 sort of lethargy. The physician talked of appoplexy 
 and gave little hope. Hedwig, Alma and Hugo were 
 frantic with grief. 
 
 The sad news of the Syndicus' critical condition 
 soon spread through the city, where it excited the 
 more interest, as at the same time news arousing still 
 greater terror reached the citizens, news that instantly 
 showed what Strassburg had already lost by Frantz's 
 absence from the meetings of the magistrates. The 
 Giinzer faction, which now that the patriots had lost 
 their leader, won their game, had passed and were 
 about to carry into immediate execution, a resolution 
 that filled the whole city with terror and confusion. 
 
 Louis XIV, before leaving Colmar with his court, 
 desired to again express through Louvois to the mag- 
 istracy of Strassburg his friendly feelings and the as- 
 
 ?^di^:^*^ff^«^'ij^'::V-i*Uw2:;^;:.i^'^'ra 
 
.-.^y ' ?vt»- . — --'•^' srv.-iF'j!-*? -^^.it^ffifirlJir 
 
 414 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 surances of his royal favor, but requested in return 
 equal courtesy from the magistrates of Strassburg. 
 But the token of this courtesy was to be given by 
 the destruction and removal of the tete de pont facing 
 towards Kehl. France would allow only a small in- 
 trenchment there, for that was all the treaty of Nym- 
 wegen granted the city. i 
 
 But what did this mean except relinquishing of 
 onfe of the most important bulwarks of Strassburg, and 
 to expose the city to a hostile attack from this direc- 
 tion? ' i , a 
 
 Never would this proposal have been accepted if 
 Syndicus Frantz could have taken his seat in the 
 council of magistrates. But none knew better than 
 Louvois that Frantz was lying at death's door and 
 Giinzer had entire control of the government. - 
 
 The moment was admirably chosen. 1 
 
 The gentlemen to whom Louis XIV had given the 
 gold chains were enthusiastic in their admiration of 
 the "great king," his friendly intentions, magnanimity 
 and good wishes, things that ought not to be repelled; 
 while Giinzer won others, the timid, by conjuring the 
 magistrates for Heaven's sake to avoid everything that 
 could arouse the distrust of the French government. 
 The king and Louvois now seemed so well disposed 
 towards Strassburg, that they must not be repulsed 
 on any account. 
 
 Wenck foamed with rage, the guilds hurried to their 
 assembly rooms, fiery speeches were made, deputies 
 
 I 
 
 !?*■ 
 
 
DARKNESS AND SORROW 415 
 
 hastily chosen and sent to the government ; Hugo von 
 Zedlitz endeavored to rouse the higher class of citi- 
 zens and all the patriots to an immediate protest — in 
 vain. In the higher circles, timidity or corruption 
 frustrated any step of this nature, and besides all was 
 too late; for while the people were meeting, making 
 speeches, writing and getting signatures to the in- 
 tended protest, the best and strongest bulwark of 
 Strassburg had already fallen. • 
 
 Hugo brought the terrible news to Alma and Hed- 
 wig, who sitting beside the unconscious Syndicus, 
 gazed with redoubled despair at the beloved husband 
 and father, now hovering on the verge of the grave. 
 
 This was not the only grief Alma endured; besides 
 her sorrow for her sick father, the terror, anxiety and 
 doubt with which she regarded her native city and her 
 own future, she was also saddened by the terrible 
 blow which now fell upon her widowed friend, Frau 
 von Bernhold. 
 
 After the day on which Giinzer had had the presump- 
 tion to sue in such an unseemly manner for the hand 
 of his aristocratic benefactress, the widow who still 
 wept for her scarcely buried husband, he had not ap- 
 peared again at Plobsheim. 
 
 Although this state of affairs was very agreeable to 
 Frau von Bernhold, the threatening words, "you will 
 repent it some day!" still rang in her ears, and made 
 her the more anxious because she herself knew noth 
 ing about the family papers, while Giinzer, to whom 
 
416 " A ROYAL ROBBER ' 1- 
 
 this business had been entrusted for years, was thor- 
 oughly familiar with them. , 
 . Frau von Bernhold was more anxious about her 
 children's future than her own fate. Yet she per- 
 suaded herself that it was impossible for Giinzer — who 
 owed everything he was and had to her family — could 
 abuse the confidence reposed in him. She ascribed 
 his indelicate proposal for her hand to his well-known 
 avarice. When he had grown calm, he would surely 
 regret his conduct. 
 
 "Evil"— she had said to Alma — "is not in man but 
 on him. It always seems to me like the soiled garment 
 of his originally pure soul. He can lay it aside if he 
 seriously desires to do so and then the white robe of 
 virtue and honest}^ is always at hand. Every discord 
 in and among men will finally vanish in the harmo- 
 nious chorus of the universe." 
 
 But Alma was no longer with her; the Syndicus' 
 illness had called her home, and in loneliness all our 
 cares grhw heavier, 
 
 What did it avail that the beautiful estate of Plobs- 
 lieim extended before her in all its summer loveli- 
 ness? Her oppressed and troubled heart had no 
 appreciation of the beauties of nature, to which the 
 little lady was usually so keenly sensitive. It seemed 
 as if a black veil rested upon everything; her garden, 
 the castle, nay the world and mankind. 
 
 Only one thing afforded her comfort and support: 
 religion. As a flower beaten by a thunder storm seeks 
 
 'j.5«Ci^"*;. > _^~-v-.-*'.: • .--.-I. -a*. ---i.^TT-. ■fe^'.-r'- '.i;;-;. . .■:i*n;-:^-5r^!£i'^f;^l5e'JiK.:. 
 
' ■ DARKNESS AND SORROW 417 
 
 to raise itself under the warm rays of the sun, the 
 sorrowful widow looked up to God, relying upon Hi'm, 
 trusting Him, placing her fate in His hands. 
 
 So she sat this morning at one of the windows of 
 the castle, gazing — after solacing herself with a heart- 
 felt prayer — thoughtfully over the rich landscape. 
 She had resolved, since Giinzer no longer came to her, 
 to entrust the Plobsheim business to another attorney 
 and for that purpose intended to go to Strassburg the 
 following morning, in order with the newly chosen 
 legal adviser, to herself carefully search the famil}' 
 documents in her city house once more for the im- 
 portant title-deeds and then, still in her own person, 
 apply to the Reunions- Kammern, if necessary, to the 
 king himself. 
 
 She could gladly have set out that very day, but— 
 what is this, what is moving along the road to Castle 
 Plobsheim? 
 
 The whirling cloud of dust almost conceals the road. 
 
 Frau Bernhold gazes more intently. 
 
 They are horsemen. 
 
 But what are they doing here? 
 
 The widow rises to see the approaching figures more 
 clearly. 
 
 They are certainly horsemen and — and French troops 
 into the bargain- Twenty or thirty men. 
 
 Strange! 
 
 What do French joldiers want here in time of 
 peace? 
 
 27 Robber 
 
^y'-JV-^p^Kfn^:', -». 
 
 7--5"; a!5^»5j^^S;fV 
 
 418 A ROYAL ROBBER ' - 
 
 This is no road to a French garrison. 
 
 But what is this? Are not two men in civilian's 
 dress riding at the head of the troops? 
 
 The terrible clouds of dust conceal everything. 
 
 A pause ensues. 
 
 Yes, there are two civilians. 
 
 Suddenly the widow totters and turns deadly pale, 
 she had received a mortal blow. 
 
 Trembling in every limb and pressing the child she 
 holds in her arms to her heart, she passed her hand 
 across her eyes to see more distinctly. 
 
 Merciful God! No! It cannot be, and yet — the two 
 men in civilian's dress are Giinzer and his brother-in- 
 law, Kampffer 
 
 What do they want here at Plobsheim accompanied 
 by French troops? Now the men turn into the avenue 
 leading to the castle, the horses' hoofs ring on the 
 pavement of the courtyard. Giinzer and Kampffer dis- 
 mount and the troopers halt behind them. 
 
 But what does Giinzer mean? He goes to the bell 
 to summon the servants. 
 
 "What does this mean? Who has the right to com- 
 mand here?" exclaims Frau von Bernhold. 
 
 SJie wants to go down — but her limbs refuse their 
 service. She stands as if spell-bound. 
 
 Hark, how loudly and imperiously the bell sounds. 
 
 The servants hurry to the courtyard, flock from the 
 castle, the grounds, the stable and stand motionless 
 with astonishment. 
 
 IV Jui^^v !Siii<S:tfiiJ^ii 
 
-^^;^^^i^^tf^^^f)^P^^^J!^g!S-:!^f-'y^-:^gft^';-:p~-^-: 
 
 DARKNESS AND SORROW 41 (J 
 
 Five and twenty mounted French soldiers wiih 
 drawn swords! . , 
 
 And here too was Herr Giinzer from Strassburg, 
 looking sternly, gravely and haughtily- around him. 
 . Hush! he is going to speak! 
 
 And Giinzer draws from his pocket a parchment pro- 
 vided with huge seals and read aloud ia a solemn tone: 
 
 "In the name of his glorious Majesty, Louis XIV, 
 King of France, and the Reunions- Kaminerii, be it 
 hereby announced that, after having received proof 
 that the investiture of the families of von Bernhold 
 and von Zorn with the Seignurie of Plobsheim is ex-, 
 tinct, the said estate has now passed into the pos- 
 session of the Seigneurs Giinzer and Kiimpffer, S3'ndi- 
 cuses of the Lower Alsatian nobilty, by virtue of the 
 document given us and signed by His Majesty. AH 
 members of the families of von Bernhold and von 
 Zorn are therefore commanded to instantly leave the 
 castle and estate of Plobsheim, and all individuals 
 belonging to their service to take the oath of allegi- 
 ance to the above mentioned Seigneurs, Giinzer and 
 Kampffer, as the owners of the estate." 
 
 At these words a piercing shriek rang from one of 
 the windows of the castle, accompanied by the cries 
 and sobs of children. 
 
 Frau von Bernhold had fallen senseless on the floor. 
 
 But the French dragoons in the court-yard rode for- 
 ward several steps their shining swords flashing 
 brightly in the sunlight. 
 
-^Z-s«.?fWip;;^5^-jj^'5,-S5^^|^^!^5'^»^g»^ , 
 
 420 • A ROYAL RORBER . ' 
 
 Seigneur Giinzer received from the trembling ser- 
 vants the oath of allegiance to himself and his brother- 
 in-law as the owners of Plobsheim. '< 
 
 Giinzer had actually laid before the Rhinions-Kam- 
 tner forged documents, according to which the time 
 for which the families of von Bernhold and von Zorn 
 were entitled to possess Plobsheim had expired. At 
 the recommendation of Louvois, he and his brother- 
 in-law therefore received it without ceremony, and the 
 transfer was instantly recorded by the proper magis- 
 trate. - i 
 , As the sun was setting, a~ pale woman — holding a 
 little child in her arms and with two others beside 
 her — walked down the avenue leading from the castle 
 to the highway. \ 
 
 It was Frau von Bernhold and her children. | 
 
 Giinzer, unheeding her entreaties, tears, and sorrow, 
 had pitilessly turned her out of the castle of her an- 
 cestors. 
 
■■^'*r- 7*-?^C^ -- 
 
 PART VI. 
 
 THE FALL OF STRASSBURG. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE SECRET OF THE BRIDGE, 
 
 ■*-. 
 
 Francois Michel le Tellier, Marquis de Louvois, 
 had just entered his private room. 
 
 It was an unusually large apartment, furnished with 
 royal luxury, yet the impression produced was a gloomy 
 one. 
 
 Hangings of stamped leather, with bouquets of gilt 
 flowers, covered the walls. Ancient pictures in ex- 
 quisitely carved, black frames, beautiful Venetian mir- 
 rors, and marble tables resting on gilded goats' hoofs 
 appeared in every direction. , The huge arm-chairs 
 that stood around were of such beautiful and artistic 
 workmanship, that the heart of an antiquary of our 
 days would have throbbed high with pleasure at the 
 sight. 
 
 Over the doors were superb bas-reliefs by Bacon the 
 
 younger. But the principal ornaments were cups and 
 
 flagons of wrought gold and silver, and magnificent 
 
 weapons arranged in artistic groups upon the walls. 
 
 421 
 

 •^jp*"?^ -s;?'- ^^^^'^v^^w^^^fg^^ 
 
 422 A ROYAL ROBBER 1 -^ 
 
 The latter decoration was the one on which the min- 
 ister of war specially prided himself, since some of 
 these weapons reminded him of the campaigns of Flan- 
 ders and Frauche Comt^, as well as many other vic- 
 tories. 
 
 Grave, gloomy magnificence and strength charac- 
 terized the spacious apartment and the impression 
 was greatl}' heightened by the silence that pervaded it, 
 although twenty noblemen were in the room. 
 
 All stood in silence, holding their gold-laced hats 
 in their hands. ; 
 
 And besides these, admitted to the sanctuary, three 
 hundred other nobles were waiting in the minister's 
 ante-room. 
 
 At the head of the line, which seemed to be formed 
 of statues, was, in accordance with the spirit of the 
 times, a representative of the church. He was a tall, 
 pale, emaciated monk, who might have served admir- 
 ably as a model for a pious murderer. Surely such a 
 thin figure, 5'ellowish complexion, hair-cloth robe, 
 long, bony figure and crafty look, gave him a wonder- 
 ful resemblance to one of the huge spiders that weave 
 their- almost invisible nets in dark places, and crouch- 
 ing in a corner, greedil}'' watch for their prey. 
 
 His features expressed the mindless, soulless nature 
 that stifles all fresh life In the Catholic church. He 
 was an image of the pious Inaction that always leads 
 to wickedness, and so willingly puts rascality In the 
 place of industrious life and labor. \ -, - 
 
-c^ 
 
 THE ^FC'RFT OF VUV FiRIDOE 423 
 
 When Father Medardus, Louvois' confessor, passed 
 women^ even the ladies of the court, he never seemed 
 to look at them. And yet he did, but as the faces of 
 those who were to be condemned on the Last Da}^, 
 and like a fiend entrusted with the delightful commis- 
 sion of persecuting and torturing them with all the 
 torments of hell throughout eternity. 
 
 This diabolical thought afforded him such delight, 
 that he used every effort to make a beginning on earth ; 
 and the Huguenots offered the best opportunity for this 
 purpose. The morning and evening prayer of the 
 worthy priest to his penitent, the marquis, was there 
 fore for a renewal of the old persecutions of the 
 heretics. In this Father Medardus walked hand in 
 hand with La Chaise, the king's confessor. They were 
 already paving the way for the sad and terrible per 
 secution of all who were not Catholics, which after- 
 wards, under the bigoted Madame de Maintenon, was 
 to become an eternal brand of disgrace upon the reign 
 of Louis XIV. 
 
 Quite different was the appearance of the 3'oung 
 man, who stood beside the priest. He was a hand- 
 some nobleman, Monsieur de Chamille, the bearer of 
 an ancient name. His features expressed intellect, 
 courage, and eager ambition. Pride, as well as 
 youthful freshness and gayety, was enthroned upon 
 them. 
 
 The younger man relied not a little upon himself, 
 but as he had a clear head and was ambitious, he earlv 
 
 'f':riKi£AiCf;&£S»l,i^. .. :i^a&iB»i;V'iiiJji^i&iiii.--::/-l;;t,r^tv5ia^'&aiSii;^ 
 
424 A ROYAT ROBBER , ^ 
 
 perceived that even the finest painting does not arouse 
 enthusiasm unless placed in a good light. 
 
 His next neighbor — the manager of the royal theater 
 — knew nothing of all this. It was the Comte de 
 Rhuli&res, a short, stout, well preserved man, the em- 
 bodiment of quiet comfort, which nestles with calm 
 satisfaction in the position it has won. He was not 
 at all wearied by the minister's delay; he was think- 
 ing with a smile of Donna Antonia Tordesillas, the 
 charming, new Spanish ballet dancer whom he had 
 engaged, and the Blanquetle aux champignons and 
 Mayonnaise de poisson that would await him to-day 
 at dinner. 
 
 The grave, aristocratic man beside him was really 
 vexed by the quiet enjoyment of the fat, little man- 
 ager, whom he — as Councillor of Reunions- Kammern of 
 Alsace — thoroughly despised General procurator For- 
 tounais therefore closed his eyes and allowed the im- 
 portant matters which he was to report to the minister 
 to pass in review before his mind. ' 
 
 A strange medley prevailed throughout the remainder 
 of the party: officers, officials in the war department, 
 secretaries from the different divisions of this depart- 
 ment with piles of papers, councilors of the crown 
 and courtiers. 
 
 And now he entered — the man of his time — the 
 dreaded Minister of War of Louis XIV, Fran5ois 
 Michel le Tellier, Marquis de Louvois. 
 
 All bowed low, as If before the king. j • ^^ 
 
 -■~*"^, C^ * '1--^.- 
 
 u JS,M^Ts^jiea^A,JiLMi.,^i2maB^a£k. 
 
THE .SLCkKT OF 'J"HK BRIDGE 425 
 
 Louvois advanced with his figure .drawn up to its 
 full height. The head covered by the plumed hat 
 scarcely bowed. 
 
 A deep stillness pervaded the room. 
 
 The minister took his seat; the by-standers raised 
 their backs a little, but all remained in a somewhat 
 stooping posture. 
 
 Louvois' eyes glided over the group with a cold, 
 arrogant, scornful glance. His proud heart enjoj^ed 
 the slavish humility shown him. 
 
 But even the powerful of the earth have to show 
 some consideration — opposite to the minister stood 
 a representative of the church, his confessor. 
 
 The throne and the church are onh' strong and un- 
 conquerable when they walk hand in hand. 
 
 Father Medardus— Louvois secretly hated and 
 despised him — stood it is true with his head bowed 
 lowest, his hypocritical face expressed humility, sub- 
 mission, and piety, but- he was a Jesuit. The mar- 
 quis knew him thoroughly. His power was the power 
 of the church, invisible, ruling over the minds and 
 souls of men, but therefore all the more dangerous; it 
 «t. extended to Rome, and what was impossible to Rome? 
 - The pope had already seen emperors and kings at 
 his feet— what would ministers be to him if he were 
 angered, even though they appeared all-powerful? 
 V And did not Louvois need the church in order to 
 rule? It would be an easy matter for it to oppose 
 any of his acts. 
 
 

 4- 
 
 26 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 "Reverend Father!" said the minister, In a gentler 
 tone than he was in the habit of using to his inferiors, 
 "what business brings 3'ou here? The ear of your 
 penitent is ever open to holy Mother Church." 
 
 "May jour Excellency be blessed in your going out 
 and your coming in," replied the priest, with clasped 
 hands, making a low bow. "Monseignor Louvois is 
 the powerful prop of the church and the throne! 
 France prospers more than ever under the scepter of 
 His Most Christian Majesty Louis XIV and the strong 
 hand of your Excellency." 
 
 "The fame and greatness of His Majesty's govern- 
 ment and the welfare of the church are my sole aim!" 
 replied the minister. "If I can do any thing for 
 either, speak, Reverend Father!" 
 
 The Jesuit knew Louvois' peculiarities; the minis- 
 ter was no friend to circumlocution, as statesman and 
 courtier he had no time to lose. 
 
 "I have two petitions to lay at monseigneur's feet." 
 
 "And they are" 
 
 "May it please His Majesty's government to at least 
 restrain the ever-increasing luxury of the nation by a 
 law?" 
 
 "Is it so great?" asked Louvois gloomily, for both he 
 and the king loved it and knew why they fostered it 
 in nobilit}' and people; to the people it was a play- 
 thing that served to soothe them, to the nobility a 
 drain, Vvdiich kept them weak and submissive. 
 
 "Yes! " replied Father Medardus, in a mild, gentle 
 
-^.-^ ..- ^fev''^■:• 
 
 THE SECRET OF THE BRIDGE 427 
 
 tone, with a second bow, "it is leading the Christians 
 of France to destruction." 
 
 "It seems to me that it is a consequence of tlie 
 universal prosperity." 
 
 "That is the worm, which is already gnawing the 
 delicate flower." 
 
 "It is considered, with reason, a token of increased 
 culture. It should not be carried to excess, but it is 
 the garb every nation assumes in escaping from bar- 
 barism; — as such, I would not like to oppose it. No 
 one can hold aloof from custom; it is a sort of univer- 
 sal language without which we are not understood. 
 Thus, Holy Father, His Majesty looks at the matter, 
 and thus do I regard it." 
 
 "It was different in former days, customs were more 
 simple and — the people more pious. Even in the six- 
 teenth century it often happened that a princess gave 
 a prince shirts made by her own hands," 
 
 "Oh! yes!" cried Louvois, "and the middle classes 
 were in the habit of sleeping naked. I think we ought 
 to be glad that we have escaped from this state of 
 barbarism. Besides it was the church that first intro- 
 duced luxury — by music, sculpture, incense, gay robes, 
 and costly vessels for the altar." 
 
 "For the honor of God!" exclaimed the Jesuit 
 unctuously. "The Church strove to introduce art and 
 with it the sense of beauty. But this is not luxury." 
 
 "What is luxury?" cried Louvois, angered by this 
 new interference on the part of the priest witli the 
 
 
 'd-'^ -:^s^iS&v'>t A,,^.:^::^: fj^^-oi^ 
 
<''C'7^-;^ji^:j:^:C%'c^'''.!££jp -■'- ■ '"^~^ -'Ojii-i-^s-^y:;--/ ^'~:-^- 
 
 V"'>-tv:- 
 
 428 .. A ROVAL ROBBER 
 
 affairs of government. "Each individual and class, 
 each nation and period, declare everything a luxury 
 with which they think they can dispense. You, Father 
 Medardus, are certainly so holy a man that you 
 despise all earthly things. But — all men cannot be 
 saints. We still have some reports of Charlemagne's 
 possessions; one account of the linen mentions only 
 two sheets, a handkerchief, and a table-cloth. In 
 Homer's time, kings ate only meat, bread and wine. 
 Shall the household of His Majesty, Louis XIV, be 
 arranged accordingly?" 1 •. 
 
 "Your Excellency likes to jest!'' murmured the 
 Jesuit humbly, while the upper part of his body as- 
 sumed an almost horizontal position, "the church does 
 not desire to touch the annointed head of majesty, 
 although in truth the court ought to set a good ex- 
 ample; but where the people — " 
 
 "The court? What is done by the court is required 
 to keep up His Majesty's state. The famous Earl of 
 Warwick daily entertained thirty thousand persons. 
 Ambassadors under James I, of England were at- 
 tended by a suite of* five hundred followers, among 
 whom were three hundred nobles. The Duke of Me- 
 dina-Coeli spends four hundred and ninety thousand 
 reals a year in wages, to his servants. But enough — 
 and among the people? Why, luxury here is a proof 
 of increasing industry and prosperity. My holy father 
 — woe betide the monarchy In which too great sim- 
 plicity, and thereby a comparative equality of dress, 
 
 ■*i in^^- ."^..i^^- ,^Jlrf;;Si^^Ji.«:S;"S*.'W*_y 
 
~^'^.~'^-^^^W-^-^- " ■■- -rJ-^^^T^-""-;-^ ;5^<**'*^-"-' 
 
 ■■■vr'^' 
 
 THE SFCRET OF THE BRIDGE \ 429 
 
 \ 
 
 louses, mode of life and manners, gains ground. I do 
 not like such equality. Where this takes place — we 
 are on a fair way to equality of thought, comparisons, 
 blossoms, whose poisonous fruit might be universal 
 equality, that is: the fall of the throne." 
 
 "Holy Virgin!" groaned the priest, crossing himself, 
 "the church does not seek to touch such things. The 
 keen eyes of a statesman like monseigneur — " 
 
 "Holy Father, your second petition," interrupted 
 Louvois. "Time is scantly measured to a statesman 
 who stands at the head of a monarchy like France." 
 
 "Monseigneur, " whispered the Jesuit, looking signifi- 
 cantly at the minister. 
 
 Louvois understood him. 
 
 "Come nearer!" said he, and a wave of- the hand 
 sufficed to make the rest of the group retire. 
 
 Father Medardus, with crafty look and hypocritical 
 air, drew nearer. 
 
 The man was cunning as a fox. He had not pre- 
 sented the first petition to the minister with any hope 
 of seeing it granted; on the contrary he knew before- 
 hand that Louvois would never consent. But this was 
 precisely what he desired. If the minister refused the 
 first request of the representative of the Catholic 
 church, he could not, would not dare to hastily and 
 positively reject the second and — only en the second 
 was Father Medardus' heart fixed. 
 
 "Well Holy Father! " said '^^ouvois; but it was 
 with difficulty that he could repress his contempt. 
 
 '. ■^■^<*g:?ati jr - 'i ia;L,"^S^'>:-^-^"j-''-'^'^'^ ::r-:^:'-:-^it!U 
 
430 A ROYAL ROBBER - 
 
 He knew his man, who — like a pike, had all his relig- 
 ion and passion; cup, sponge, cross, lance, nails and 
 crown of thorns in his head, and his booty in his 
 stomach. 
 
 The Jesuit uttered his request. Louvois had already 
 gu-essed what would come: it was a renewed demand 
 that His Majesty's government should at last take 
 some decided step against the heretics, the Huguenots. 
 
 "And in what way, Holy Father, do you think this 
 iHiould be done?' asked the minister craftily. "The 
 king swore to observe the Edict of Nantes when he 
 ascended the throne." 
 
 The priest's sunken eyes now began to glitter with 
 a baleful light, as drawing up his tall, thin figure, he 
 replied : "From the point of view of the divine right 
 of'^ings, it is shown that every law, every gift, every 
 promise may be revoked at will and conscience im- 
 poses it upon rulers as a dut}': to force all heretics 
 into the arms of Holy Mother Church." 
 
 Louvois listened quietly; he was no enemy to such 
 thoughts, out of secret hatred to Colbert, his colleague 
 in the ministry, who, although himself a Catholic, 
 was always a defender of the edict of Nantes and the 
 Huguenots — of course only so far as the maintenance 
 of the compact and protection against unjust persecu- 
 tion were concerned. 
 
 But Father Medardus — growing more and more 
 animated and passionate — exhausted himself in expla- 
 nations of his subject. He was rich in proposals of 
 methods to intimidate the Protestants. 
 
 
^- : ., THE slfeCRET OF THf/bRIDGE 43I 
 
 "Oh!" he exclaimed, and his thin, sallow face 
 gradually became suffused with a crimson flush, which 
 made his long features resemble those of a painted 
 corpse — "oh! there is nothing easier than to recall 
 these heretics to Mother Church. Let the Huguenots 
 be forbidden to buy or sell meat on Catholic fast davs, 
 to bury their dead by daylight. Let them be excluded 
 from guilds and trades, removed from all public 
 offices, forbidden to rent property belonging to the 
 charch, deprived of all the patronage hitherto exer- 
 • cised. Physicians, apothecaries and nurses must be 
 Catholics — children born of marriages contracted be- 
 tween a Catholic and a Protestant must be considered 
 illegitimate, and all bastards given to the Catholic 
 church. Let their courts of law be abolished; the 
 Protestant churches— under pretense of dilapidation 
 or some other excuse — be gradually torn down. Do 
 not allow these accursed heretics, the Pluguenots, to 
 emigrate, declare any sale made w^ithin a year before 
 a removal null and void, prohibit them from atttend- 
 ihg any religious service outside of - their own dwell- 
 ings, or to teach Greek, Hebrew, philosophy or the- 
 ology; declare that, since children seven years old are 
 in possession of their reason and capable of making a 
 choice in matters pertaining to their souls, Huguenot 
 children of that age have the right to decide whether 
 they will remain with their Protestant parents or not. 
 In the latter case, let them be reared as Catholics, in 
 case of, stubbornness let tbom be soundly flogged — " 
 
432 _ A ROYAL ROBBER : ;\ i^j*' "'" 
 
 • 
 
 Here Father Medardus paused a moment; he had 
 worked himself into such a state of excitement that 
 his breath failed. His eyes were starting from their 
 sockets, his sallow cheeks burned, and a white frotli 
 appeared in the corners of his mouth, while his long, 
 bony fingers twitched convulsively, as if eager to seize 
 and torture the victims of his fanaticism. 
 
 Even Louvois — a man with a heart of stone and 
 iron— trembled; it seemed to him a trifle to overthrow 
 long established rights, steal hardly earned property, 
 and trample .domestic relations under foot; but he did 
 all this quietly, with calm deliberation, not with fury 
 bordering on the blood-thirstiness of a beast of prey. 
 
 But Father Medardus gave him no time for con- 
 sideration. Bowing low, he said: 
 
 "If Monseigneur — we are all human — if Monseign- 
 eur, my distinguished penitent, should have anything 
 on his conscience, holy Mother Church, in return for 
 such service, would offer complete absolution, open 
 tlie path to Heaven." 
 
 A dark shadow flitted across Louvois' face but he 
 controlled himself. 
 
 Father Medardus continued to whisper: j 
 
 "Monseigneur might — " i 
 
 "What?" ■ ' 
 
 "If he would lend the arm of worldly power to the 
 affairs of the church — " 
 . "Well." 
 
 "Greatly increase his authority and influence," 
 
 • '■r^''_•«. 'jPi*' //*-'^fi!yi.'if£L'ir,:ii.',AsiiSi^i^ 
 
■ ;- ^, THE SECRET OF THE BRIDGE 433 
 
 The minister started. The serpent had touched the 
 right chord — this was his vulnerable spot. 
 
 "Your excellency hitherto" — the serpent continued 
 to hiss — "has exercised little influence on religious 
 affairs. If within a short time—" 
 
 "Speak out!" 
 
 "If within a short time the rich Huguenots — of course 
 without any mention of religion — " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Should be obliged to lodge dragoons." 
 
 A sudden flash of light darted through Louvois* 
 soul. 
 
 "Dragoons!" he exclaimed under his breath — "for 
 what purpose?" 
 
 "Only," continued the priest cunningly, "only on 
 the pretext that this had become necessary for the 
 maintenance of the army." 
 
 "But if the Catholics are spared — " 
 
 "Every intelligent person will perceive for what 
 this measure is designed, and what must be done to 
 avoid having soldiers quartered upon him. Thus 
 Monseigneur as Minister of War, will have an influence 
 in church matters at a single blow. When this kind 
 of conversion is once in train — " 
 
 "Hush, holy father! " cried Louvois, starting up 
 in violent agitation — "His Majesty will never consent." 
 'An effort must be made to turn His Majesty's heart 
 more to the church — " 
 
 Louvois shook his head. "So long as theduchesse — " 
 
 £8, Robber 
 
 S:l^t■J•'^^. -t. -^'ir^r'T^'-JV-— 
 
'S" 
 
 V/^'.^/S^T-'- : V .'■■'' 0- ■*'i'3^''' ■ 
 
 434 „ A ROYAT. ROBBER 
 
 "Things will change!" whispered the priest, "and 
 then His Majest)' must have a pious soul at his side." 
 
 Louvois was silent, but paced up and down the room 
 with hurried steps. 
 
 The priest's eyes followed him; Medardus' soul 
 was full of exultation. He saw that although he had 
 not yet conquered, much of what he had said lingered 
 in the minister's mind. ; : 
 
 This was enough for the crafty Jesuit. Therefore, 
 when Louvois suddenly paused before him and with 
 a slight bend of the head, remarked: 
 
 "Holy Father, as a good, Catholic Christian, we will 
 heed the warnings of the church." Father Medardus 
 bowed low, uttered his benediction, and withdrew. 
 
 Louvois paced silently up and down the room, 
 while a breathless silence prevailed. 
 
 At last the minister raised his head. Young Cha- 
 milH's heart throbbed proudly and hopefuJl3^ It was 
 his turn — the next moment might bring the fulfillment 
 of his ambitious plans. 
 
 Then, the youth turned pale as death, Louvois 
 seated himself again and ordered the little fat mana- 
 ger, Comte de RhuHeres to approach. Rhulieres 
 tripped forward with low bows, smiling brightly, in 
 spite of the grave face of the dreaded minister. This 
 man, happy in his narrow sphere, was not easily dis- 
 heartened. 
 
 "Have the Spanish actors arrived?" asked the 
 minister, in a curt, distant tone. j 
 
 ii. 
 
^^,^:^^'-':f^^'^fKTr-.v^^..'' ' -' "■■■■i*K^.>V-^~ ■ - - •■^':«;'^'r^.-^=*?^£?t'!^>^--f^ . '^_,j<^— ■■ 
 
 THE SECRET OF THE BRIDGE 435 
 
 "Yes, Your Excellency!" replied de Rhulieres, "and 
 they are admirable " 
 
 "Any remarkably good members of the company?" 
 
 "Donna Antonia Tordesillas is an angel in beauty, 
 a goddess in her performances — " 
 
 "And doubtless a queen in the kitchen"~interrupted 
 the minister with keen sarcasm — 'I wish her, however, 
 to do her best to please His Majest}^ The day after 
 the first performance I will speak to her." 
 
 The manager's face had grown somewhat longer, 
 but he bowed respectfully and, with a smile still lin- 
 gering around the corners of his mouth, asked: 
 
 "What piece does Your Excellency desire to have 
 given at the first performance?" 
 
 "The famous comedy, 'El Embaxador desisismo,' by 
 Lope de Vega, " said Louvois, and a wave of the 
 hand dismissed the manager. 
 
 Chamilli uttered a sigh of relief. 
 
 Now his turn would probably come. , 
 
 But the minister passed him by again. The invita- 
 tion to come forward was addressed to General pro- 
 curator Forbonnais, Councilor of the Reu7iions-Kam- 
 mern of Alsace. 
 
 The dignified man approached with a firm step and 
 a low bow. 
 
 "Have you called upon Colbert, the chief of your 
 department?" asked the marquis. 
 
 "I shall go to him, in accordance with my duty," 
 replied Forbonnais quietly, "after I have shown my 
 
V"^ - ' '- - *- - ' \ i: 
 
 ~ I 1 
 
 436 ' ■ A ROYAL ROBBER i , 
 
 I ■ ' .. 
 
 fidelity to the first and greatest man in the kingdom, 
 Monseigneur Louvois; to him first belong my activity 
 and my life. " ! 
 
 An almost imperceptible smile flitted over the mar- 
 quis' stern features. Le Telliers' pride was doubly 
 flattered, since Forbonnais' duties really had nothing 
 to do with the Minister of War. General procurator 
 Forbonnais had just arived from Alsace, his first visit 
 ought to have been paid to Colbert— he came to 
 Louvois. 
 
 Louvois was still the most powerful minister, but 
 court favor is a frail and dangerous ladder; he, who 
 desires to mount it, ought to trust only the firm, stout 
 rounds. 
 
 "How stands the affair of Plobsheim?" asked the 
 minister. 
 
 "As Monseigneur commanded," replied Forbonnais. 
 
 "Since the rights of the families von Zorn and von 
 Bernhold have expired and Herr von Giinzer, sup- 
 ported by your Excellency, applied for this fief of 
 France, it was given to him and the Sieur Kampffer- 
 "The estate and castle are in his hands, the transfer 
 registered and the matter thus settled forever." 
 
 "And the families of von Zorn and von Bernhold?" 
 
 "Will make a great outcry; but that will do them 
 no good." 
 
 "It is of no consequence either; both families are 
 opposed to France. With the loss of Plobsheim their 
 influence will be destroyed. Besides His Majesty 
 
 ::i 
 
^■''- ■ THE SECRET OF THE BRIDGE 437 
 
 says: 'tel est noire plaisirT And Giinzer, have you 
 nothing to tell me from him?" 
 
 "Yes, Monseigneur; but I don't know whether I 
 ought here — " 
 
 "What? what?" cried Louvois scarcely concealing 
 the great interest he took in the communication. 
 
 "It is not much after all^ — " 
 
 "Speak, speak!" 
 
 "He wishes your Excellency to know that more 
 than half the paid soldiers are lying seriously ill. 
 Besides the time of t^ie Frankfort fair is approaching 
 and many citizens will set out this week to visit the 
 ancient city. 
 
 Forbonnais was silent. 
 
 Louvois' soul was full of exultation; but not a 
 muscle of his grave, cold face quivered. On the con- 
 trary, he seemed to feel unconquerable scorn, as he 
 now asked whether this was all Giinzer had confided. 
 
 Forbonnais assented. 
 
 "Then we will pass on to other matters," said the 
 minister. 
 
 Forbonnais advanced nearer, and a long,mysterious 
 conversation ensued. The Councilor reported in de- 
 tail what he intended afterwards to communicate to 
 Colbert. 
 
 The position occupied by Louvois and Colbert to- 
 wards each other — although they were externally on 
 the best of terms — was secretly, on account of their 
 rivalry, a hostile one. 
 
y 
 
 438 " A KOYAL ROBBER " i ; 
 
 Colbert was the son of a wine dealer in Rheims, Le 
 Tellier, Louvois'' father, took him in 1668 into his 
 service, which, however, Colbert soon exchanged for 
 that of Cardinal Mazarin, who made the talented 
 young man his intendant. 
 
 From this time Colbert hiad a share in the financial 
 affairs of France, became in 1654 secretar}' to the 
 young queen, and was at last recommended with Lou- 
 vois to the king as minister by the dying Mazarin. 
 
 The rivalry between the two immediatel}' began, 
 but was strictly concealed, as outwardl}' they were 
 absolutely necessary to each other, Louvois was great 
 in war, Colbert in finance; both — by war and finance — 
 raised Louis XIV to the height of power which gave 
 him fame and splendor. Thus both were indispensa- 
 ble to the king as well as each other, only — neither 
 wished to allow the other a superior influence over 
 His Majesty and the government. 
 
 It was the old struggle for supremacy. And the 
 moles worked cleverly. 
 
 Louvois was now again digging his subterranean 
 mole-tracks. To be sure he thus gained a great deal 
 unobserved; but Colbert's great services to France 
 sustained him. He left the state a revenue of 116 
 millions and a progress in art, science and manufact- 
 ures, which flattery ascribed to Louis XIV, the 
 "Great." 
 
 The secret conversation between Forbonnais and Le 
 Tellier, during which the former had delivered what 
 
 -^-....-j 
 
THE SE(„RET OF THE BRIDGE 439 
 
 was apparently a very important letter from Giinzer, 
 was now over. 
 
 Once more Chamilli hoped — and again in vain. 
 
 The audience had continued two hours, and the 
 Chevalier de Camilli still stood in the background. 
 
 Officers, employees in the War Department, with 
 their piles of papers, councilors, courtiers, who had 
 various secret reports to make — some regarding the 
 most notorious scandals of the day — had been dis- 
 missed. 
 
 Now the last — retreating towards the door with low 
 bows — left the apartment. 
 
 Young Chamilli stood as if crushed. How many 
 scornful glances had fallen upon him — almost every 
 one who had departed had given him a sarcastic 
 smile — how his chest had heaved each time the pow- 
 erful minister uttered another name than his, signed to 
 another to approach. 
 
 And no glance from Louvois had fallen upon him! 
 None was vouchsafed now and yet he was alone with 
 the minister, who paced slowly and thoughtfully up 
 and down the room. 
 
 Suddenly he paused before him. 
 
 Chamilli trembled, but Louvois' eyes did not rest 
 disapprovingly upon him. 
 
 "Young man," he began; "I have kept you waiting 
 a long time and apparently overlooked you. Do you 
 know why?" 
 
 "Monseigneur, in his wisdom, undoubtedly has ex- 
 
 *■■■ 
 

 440 A ROYAL ROBBER \ '- 
 
 cellent reasons for it," replied the young chevalier, 
 with a low bow. , 
 
 "Yes!" said Louvois, "those I undoubted}' have and 
 they are of a twofold nature. In the first place I 
 detained you to give you a proof of my confidence. 
 You are to have an important secret commission; but it 
 also occurred to me to give you in the commencement 
 of your career a lesson upon which your whole success 
 depends. Machiavelli's policy rests upon the great 
 principle of always subordinating the lesser advantage 
 to the greater. So — in your situation, ardent self- 
 conscious youth, overweening self-conceit must bend 
 to the higher welfare of the state. Always remember, 
 young man, these hours which made you so clearly 
 feel your own insignificance; then you will never lack 
 the self-denial, and submission to guidance, so neces- 
 sary to a diplomatic career." 
 
 There was a touch of sarcasm in the last words, 
 even though they were perhaps well-meant; satirical 
 manner was one of the characteristics of the states- 
 man. 
 
 Young Chamilli was clever enough to understand 
 this manner and, on being requested to give an account 
 of his last mission, did so with calmness and modesty. 
 
 He had really accomplished all that could be ex- 
 pected, and the minister declared himself satisfied, an 
 event that rarely happened. 
 
 Chamilli's expectations of higher and more im- 
 portant duties again rose. The minister had just told 
 
 'u:^^±^^^'-^^ff5^%:I'i^'t:tiS»i^'^i:^ - . _ ■ . 
 
THE SECRET OF THE BRIDGE : 441 
 
 hmTtRat he was to have an important secret commis- 
 sion. During the last few days rumors had been in 
 circulation at the court about great political events, 
 which were close at hand. 
 
 Louvois' keen eyes doubtless read this expectation 
 in the features of the young man, who had just entered 
 the school of dissimulation and was anything but a 
 master in the art. 
 
 Again a scornful smile flitted over his stern, gloom}' 
 features, as he continued: 
 
 "Chevalier! You have justified the confidence I 
 reposed in you. As a reward you shall now receive 
 a new, and extremely important mission. ' 
 
 "I am at your service, Monseigneur! " cried the 
 young man eagerly, his eyes sparkling with joy. "I 
 will risk my life to satisfy Your Excellency." 
 
 "Very well! " continued Louvois quietly, with a 
 peculiar smile, "then listen." 
 
 Chamilli drew himself up in attitude of eager 
 attention. 
 
 "Go," began the minister slowly, placing a strong 
 emphasis upon each word, "go this very evening to 
 Basle in Switzerland. You will remain there three 
 days. On the fourth, punctually at two o'clock, 
 station yourself, provided with paper, pen and ink, on 
 the bridge that crosses the Rhine. Watch and write 
 down with the utmost care ever5'thing that passes be- 
 fore your eyes for two hours. Precisely at four o'clock, 
 take post-horses, travel day and night, and bring me 
 

 442 A ROVAL ROBBER j ;: ' 
 
 your observations. At whatever hour you may arrive, 
 report yourself to me at once. Do you understand?" 
 
 Chamilli assented, though this commission made 
 him ready to sink into the earth. 
 
 So this was the hoped for higher diplomatic employ- 
 ment. Could not an ordinary clerk be used for such a 
 purpose? 
 
 But Louvois, the all powerful minister, had com- 
 manded, and was it not possible that on the bridge of 
 Basle, Heaven knows what complications might arise? _- 
 Important — yes, the matter must be of great impor- 
 tance, that was proved b)' the closing words: "At 
 whatever hour you may arrive, report yourself to me_ 
 at once." 
 
 "And," Louvois now added gravely, "you will answer ■ 
 to me with your life for the most absolute secrec\- in ~, 
 regard to this commission and everything relating to it." ~ 
 
 "I will," replied the chevalier, bowing. 
 
 "Then may God be with you," replied Le Tellier, and 
 he dismissed the young man by a wave of the hand. 
 
 It was on the fourth day after this conversation, at 
 precisely two o'clock in the afternoon, that le Chevalier 
 de Chamilli stepped upon the bridge at Basle. 
 
 On leaving Paris, he had laid aside his court dress 
 and donned the coslume of a simple citizen — the style" 
 adopted by the artists and authors of those days. > 
 And in fact the attire was very becoming to the young . 
 man; it gave him an air of originality well suited to ■ 
 an artist. 
 
^5^^r'3*^?^''^w'iJ^'^2Mj4'--"- - -1^^^ --=a7Tf"^/-- ■r'; ■ .r-;*^-,."'^^:,; - ■.-.■-■=;-»--,.'^ Js^^aPTT^^' J " 
 
 THE SECRET OF THE BRIDGE 443 
 
 The servant who accompanied him on the journey 
 was also obliged to exchange his livery for a plain 
 coat. 
 
 The gay, French blood flowed in his veins and 
 Chamilli at last laughed at himself and his commis- 
 sion. Curiosity to see what would happen on the 
 bridge at Basle outweighed wounded pride, and as 
 provided with paper, pen and ink he now assumed 
 his strange' post, the whole affair seemed extremely 
 comical. 
 
 However, there was no time to think of himself and 
 his situation; the passing was sufficiently constant to 
 claim his whole attention. A corner was quickly 
 chosen, the little inkstand placed on a beam, the 
 paper taken from his pocket and the pen from a small 
 tin case and— the oddest of all records began. 
 
 Peasant women returning from market with their 
 empty baskets; and a traveler in a blue coat on horse- 
 back crossed the bridge. 
 
 Chamilli wrote: peasant women, etc., a traveler in a 
 blue -coat, with long riding boots, a dog-whip in his 
 hand. 
 
 Then came an old peasant, a ragged beggar, a 
 porter. 
 
 The perspiration ran down the young diplomat's 
 forehead. He was, according to the minister's com- 
 mands, to watch and write down with the utmost care 
 everything that passed before his eyes for two hours. 
 
 Young Chamilli wiped the perspiration from his 
 
 ,; :^^iuilliEM«>A 
 
 EMKsti-'if:'?."^': 
 
444 A ROVAL ROBBER . I - 
 
 brow. His strange reporting was making him very 
 warm. Shaking his head, he took up the pen again; 
 but the slight frown on his brow instantly relaxed, an 
 extremely pretty girl in burgher dress was passing 
 him. 
 
 The eyes of the two young people met, and both 
 flushed crimson. 
 
 Chamilli wrote: a pretty burgher maiden, simple in 
 dress and appearance, is passing by with a little open 
 basket on her arm — but here a gap occurred in the 
 record; the mutual look and blush took place. 
 
 Again came market women, peasants, a shepherd 
 with a flock of sheep. 
 
 A thief, with his hands bound behind his back, was 
 also led across by bailiffs. 
 
 Then came more citizens passing to and fro— wagons 
 of all kinds, a party of gipsies, gamblers, drunkards, 
 singing merry songs In their glee. 
 
 Chamilli perspired furiously; he was secretly very 
 angry at being obliged to write down such trifles — at 
 being entrusted with such a commission. His excita- 
 ble nature rebelled against the minister, and his heart 
 throbbed passionately. 
 
 Suddenly he smilingly laid his hand upon his beat- 
 ing heart; two joiners were carr3'ing a new coffin — the 
 quiet lodging of a now quiet man — across the bridge. 
 
 And Chamilli gayly noted down the joiners and the 
 coffin. The clocks in Basle were striking three. 
 
 At the same moment, a man in a yellow vest and 
 
 
7" ^ "^ 
 
 THE SECRET OF TttE BRIDGt 445 
 
 yellow breeches stopped in the middle of the bridge, 
 then approached the river, leaned over the parapet, 
 gazed down into the water and with a large cane gave 
 three distinct raps on the floor. 
 
 Fool I thought Chamilli, and fuming over his child- 
 ish task, wrote down the occurrence. If it had not 
 been Monseigneur Louvois who had given him the 
 commission, he would have thought himself the fool. 
 As it was, by Heaven, he was on the point of throw- 
 ing the paper into the water. 
 
 But see! Ah! — this was some little compensation 
 for the tiresome work, the pretty burgher maiden came 
 back. 
 
 She had probably been to some garden near the 
 bridge, for her little basket was now filled with autumn, 
 roses; but still brighter than these was the crimson 
 flush on her cheeks as soon as she perceived tho 
 young man. 
 
 It is strange how suddenly a mutual kindness, a 
 mutual attraction, flames up in young hearts without 
 any acquaintance, without the exchange of a single 
 word. 
 
 So it was here, and the fact was announced by the 
 mutual blushes; the glance with which the young 
 people looked at each other, revealed to them the 
 strange emotion which had so suddenly and unex- 
 pectedly taken possession of their hearts. Was it ac- 
 cident or design? As the girl passed the handsome 
 young man — whom she probably took for an artist, one 
 
i-Traf^ wf ■^•i jgrs'^'-' ■>;«™B^5«"wjSE'«^»-yy ] '<^t 
 
 446 A ROYAL ROBBEft I 
 
 of the most beautiful roses fell at Chamilli's feet. Of 
 course the young Frenchman's passionate heart glowed 
 with redoubled ardor. The rose was a frank confession 
 of love to the hot blooded chevalier a confession that 
 found full confirmation in the happy smile that flitted 
 over the girl's features as — looking back — she saw 
 him hastily raise the flower and press it joyously to 
 his lips. 
 
 At this moment the young man had completely for- 
 gotten his commission, the bridge, even Louvois and 
 his own ambitious hopes for the future. ' 
 
 "Follow her!" cried a voice in his heart, "follow 
 the lovely creature!" 
 
 And he was actually on the point of throwing pen 
 and paper, together with the childish, useless reports 
 he had been writing and over which he had been 
 angrily fretting, into the water, when — his carriage 
 drove up and almost at the same moment the clock 
 in the city struck four. 1 
 
 Oh! accursed recollection —"Precisely at four o'clock 
 take post-horses, travel day and night and bring me 
 your observations. At whatever hour you may arrive, 
 report yourself to me at once," Louvois had said with 
 a grave face and stern glance. No jest was concealed 
 behind those words, but grave earnest to which the 
 thought of the Bastile lent a gloomy background. It 
 brought the chevalier back to his senses. 
 
 He cast one more glance after the pretty girl who 
 again turned towards him, then, cursing himself and 
 
 .. i 
 
tHE SECRET OF THE BRIDGE 447 
 
 all diplomatic commissions, the young man threw 
 himself into the carriage. The horses started and 
 dashed away like the wind towards Paris. 
 
 But the return was even more unpleasant to Mon- 
 sieur de Chamilli than the journey to Basle had been. 
 . What in the name of Heaven and all the saints had 
 he to report to the minister? 
 
 Nothing! nothing of any importance had happened 
 on the bridge during the two hours. What did his 
 notes contain; they were a mere record of market 
 women, beggars, citizens, a shepherd, an old clergy- 
 man with his pupils, a fellow in a yellow vest and 
 breeches who acted like a fool. Ah! and a confoundedly 
 pretty girl, with whom he might have had a delightful 
 flirtation and from whom he was obliged to run away. 
 
 Chamilli struck his forehead angrily. 
 
 And what would the minister say to such trifles. 
 Oh! surely, surely, he had expected more — different 
 things! 
 
 Might not this deprive the young nian of Louvois* 
 favor and thus ruin his future without any fault of his 
 own — for — he was sure of this — nothing had escaped 
 his notice. 
 
 Two days after leaving the bridge he arrived in 
 Paris. It was midnight, but the door of the minister's 
 apartments instantly opened to him. 
 
 Louvois hastily advanced to meet him. 
 
 *'The paper! " were his only words. Chamilli, in 
 great embarrassment, delivered it. 
 
■'■.-. -1 
 
 •-' ' 448 A ROVAL ROBBEH . i _. 
 
 The Marquis de Louvois, sat down and read the 
 contents with eager attention. Suddenly, as he reached 
 the place where mention was made of the man in 
 yellow vest and breeches, who had rapped three times 
 with his stick, he started up in delight. 1 ^ 
 
 "The victory is ours!" he exclaimed. "To the king!" 
 .- Chamilli was obliged to follow. 
 "* His Majesty was asleep. Louvois ordered him to 
 
 be awaked and entered. 
 
 Chamilli, fairly beside himself with amazement, 
 waited in the ante-room. He now heard that four 
 couriers had been awaiting his arrival for several hours. 
 
 Fifteen minutes after, the doors of the royal sleep- 
 ing room opened and the minister, greatly excited, 
 come out. He held four despatches in his hand. 
 The couriers advanced one by one — each received a 
 despatch and a sealed order which must be opened at 
 the first station he reached. 
 
 A sign — and all hurried away. 
 
 "We are satisfied Chamilli 1" said the minister. 
 "Now rest alter your fatiguing journey. Your diplo- 
 matic career, if you continue to be equally faithful, 
 will be a prosperous one. You can take with you the 
 assurances of His Majesty's favor and mine. To give 
 you an opportuinty of seeing the pretty girl again," 
 JLouvois added smiling — "you shall return to Basle in 
 a week on a more peaceful mission." i 
 
 With these words the minister dismissed the sur- 
 prised and overjoyed young man. 
 
CHARTER n. 
 
 THE gardener's WIFE. 
 
 Entering Strassburg at the present day through the 
 ancient "Weissenthier, " one perceives on the inner 
 side of this gate, which dates from the time of the 
 Reformation, a face carved in stone with a broad thick 
 tongue stretched far out of the mouth. 
 
 This place was at the time of our story and still re- 
 mains — the quarter of the Strassburg gardeners. 
 
 At the time of which we are writing, this gardeners* 
 quarter and the gardeners' guild were in their prime. 
 Many of the now ancient and dilapidated houses were 
 still new and looked pleasantly forth from among the 
 gardens that surrounded them. At the end of this 
 quarter stood a one story house, to which were attached 
 several fields of vegetables and a small, well-kept 
 flower garden. All this was the property of a young 
 gardener named Geiger, who had been married two 
 years, and who was called on account of his skill in 
 the culture of flowers "Flower Geiger," a nickname 
 which pleased the man all the better because he felt 
 that it honored his profession. 
 
 Geiger' s wife was a stout, muscular woman, neither 
 
 beautifdl nor ugly; strong and hardy as was natural in 
 
 *9 ' - , 44Q 
 
M^^.'S,. 
 
 - ■ ■ ^ - ■ J ' -■■ 
 
 450 A ROYAL ROBBER I ■ _; 
 
 her profession, for she was a gardener's daughter". 
 She had no children, and therefore could devote her- 
 self entirely to her business; but this consisted chiefly 
 -^ in selling flowers and vegetables — while her husband 
 was working in the fields and garden. 
 
 She did not do a bad business, for she was cunning 
 and extremely avaricious. To earn money, everything 
 was right to her. Her avarice had become such a 
 proverb among the neighbors and members of the . 
 guild, that when they wanted to speak of another ': 
 miserly woman they said in their rude way: "Yes, ' 
 she'd sell clothes and soul like Geiger's wife." 
 
 But to-day the usually industrious woman did not ^ 
 go to work. Her husband had gone to his field out- ; 
 side the city early in the morning — a large basketful 
 of flower-pots and plants in blossom stood on a stone 
 bench before the house, ready for her to carry about 
 the city, as she did almost daily during the summer - 
 and autumn whether it was market da)' or not, but' 
 the basket was untouched, the flowers still waited to 
 be carried away, though the sun already stood high in 
 the heavens. • ": 
 
 The gardener's wife was pacing restlessly up and : 
 down as people do when expecting some one. 
 
 She often went to the end of the little garden and 
 looked out into the street. 
 
 The woman was dressed to go out and, though she only 
 wore the simple costume adopted by all the women 
 and the girls of the gardener's guild, looked very neat. 
 
 .1 
 
< THE gardener's WIFE 45 1 
 
 She looked very pretty, this gardener's wife, with 
 the bright eyes and red cheeks that gave her sunburnt 
 face an expression of exuberant health. 
 
 She pulled her skirt a little farther down on the 
 sides with both hands. And the bodice required a 
 little adjusting too. 
 
 Now her figure looked slighter. 
 
 Then she tightened her garter, smiling at the hand- 
 some calf reflected in the water. 
 
 Now the other garter needed tightening. 
 
 From whom did she receive these handsome garters. 
 
 Her husband? 
 
 Oh! no,a plain gardener doesn't buy such dainty things. 
 
 Wasn't that a G. wrought in pearls that appeared in 
 the center of one? 
 
 Again the woman smiled as she fastened above her 
 knee the second garter with the pearl G. 
 
 Her husband — who usually felt great respect for his 
 wife's tongue — had once asked her where she got the 
 "things" and what the G. meant? 
 
 "From a friend," she answered with her arms 
 akimbo, "and the G. meansr God preserve us from a 
 stupid, inquisitive man. " Since that time the gardener 
 had asked no more questions of the kind. 
 
 The garters were now firm and the woman stood up. 
 
 Not a soul was in sight. 
 . The basket of flowers had been standing on the 
 bench three hours — for three hours the woman had 
 been ready to go out— what was lacking? 
 
 .~,<^.ki££L'iiM^^li^i;^:^?EL^^i>r 'M 
 
K? - r"J .■\^.- ~,'-%*^.T;>-'X -i^ 
 
 452 A ROYAL ROBBER .-. |-.> 
 
 She generally did not waste a minute, and if kept 
 waiting while engaged in business made her customers 
 pay well for it. ^ , 
 
 She must undoubtedly have been well paid for the 
 delay this morning; or she wouldn't have had so 
 pleasant a face over it. i 
 
 Even now, as if for consolation, she drew several 
 ducats out of her' pocket, eyed them lovingly and after 
 a few moments, put them back again. 
 
 Still no one came. 
 
 But stop. Was not somebody approaching up the 
 street? 
 
 Yes. 
 
 But the person was not the man she expected — he 
 wore neither a yellow vest nor yellow breeches and 
 carried no cane. 1 
 
 The figure was small, the head rested stiffly between 
 high shoulders. 
 
 "Ah, it's he," said the gardener's wife in a con- 
 temptuous tone — "what does he want here?" 
 
 Wenck was coming up the street. 
 
 "Curse the luck!" she added, "and just now. I wish 
 the tailor was in Jericho. I must get rid of him as 
 quick as I can. If Herr Giinzer should know, or if — " 
 
 Wenck was just entering the garden, the woman 
 hurried towards him. 
 
 "Good-morning, Fran Geiger!" cried the little tailor 
 pleasantly. 
 
 "Good-morning!" she replied, by no means in the 
 same tone 
 
 ^:-,, M^ 
 
-' ' THE GNRDENER's WIFE 453 
 
 "I should like a pretty bouquet," replied Wenck 
 and it was evident he was ver}' much delighted. 
 
 "Bouquet?" said the gardener's wife, "I haven't 
 time to make one now. " 
 
 "That isn't necessary." 
 
 "Shall I get it by witchcraft?" 
 
 "Why so? You have several in your basket." 
 
 "They are engaged." 
 
 "All?" 
 
 "All three." 
 
 "And what does one of them cost?" 
 
 The woman named an extravagant price, 
 
 Wenck looked at her with a comical expression, 
 but, as he knew her disposition, said no more but laid 
 a larger sum than she asked on the stone bench beside 
 the basket. 
 
 This produced its effect. • 
 
 "There, take one, I shall make nothing by it, for 
 they are rare now and onlj^ to be had from hot-houses," 
 said Frau Geiger in a somewhat more amicable tone, 
 hastily pocketing the money. 
 
 Wenck obeyed and selected one of the bouquets. 
 
 "Ah!" said he, "if you only knew for whom and for 
 what festival the flowers were intended." 
 
 "How shall I?" 
 
 "Guess?" 
 
 "A wedding?" 
 
 "Pshaw!" 
 
 "A christening?" 
 
 ...^j^'"- .^''■^'. _^_1^_..^ ..'?*'^i»iBk:_j» 
 
* >S-' 
 
 454 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Then I don't know." 
 
 "The celebration of a recovery." 
 
 "And who has got well?" 
 
 "Who? One of the noblest and best men in all 
 Strassburg. " 
 
 "Do you know whom I mean?" continued the little 
 tailor loquaciously. 
 
 "No!" . I 
 
 "Well— Syndicus Frantz." 
 
 "What!" exclaimed the woman in surprise — "has he 
 got well?" 
 
 "Yes! " cried Wenck, his little eyes sparkling with 
 joy. "With God's help the noble man has escaped 
 death. Well, who knows what good it may do! To- 
 day — though still pale and weak — he attends the council 
 for the first time, and I must show him my heartfelt 
 
 joy. ■ 
 
 "It was said that he would never recover." 
 "Of course, and there were many evil-minded people, 
 in and out of Strassburg, who desired it. But our 
 Lord has preserved to Strassburg her best citizen." 
 
 "Why!" cried the gardener's wife, scornfully, "mat- 
 ters are not quite so bad as that. There are other able 
 men here." 
 
 "None better than the Syndicus, Heaven knows! 
 The poor man was in a bad way and his family too. 
 For weeks he hovered on the verge of the grave, and 
 mother and daughter — and somebody else — never left 
 
 „,"s:,£,\, ;..::..; 
 
THE gardener' S WIFE 455 
 
 his bedside. Oh! my dear woman, you might have 
 learned there what true love is. They nursed him day 
 and night, and night and day without giving them- 
 selves a moment's rest." 
 
 The gardener's wife looked restlessly around. 
 
 "And he had an evil dish!" said the tailor with 
 marked emphasis. 
 
 "I must go!" said the woman. "I really must go, 
 I have something to do in the city." 
 
 But the gardener's wife now became very uneasy. 
 She fancied she saw another figure hastily approaching. 
 
 She could no longer control her restlessness. "Fare 
 well!" she said again, this time in a very snappish 
 tone. "Here is the best way out." She opened a gate 
 ." opposite to the one by which Wenck had entered the 
 . garden and which led through the gardener's quarter 
 into the center of the cit}', and at the same time pushed 
 the little tailor out in by no means the most gentle 
 manner, 
 
 "May Satan take him!" she muttered. "If I had 
 known the bouquet was for Syndicus Frantz, he 
 certainly wouldn't have got it." 
 
 As Wenck left the garden, she carefully locked the 
 gate through which he had passed and hurried in the 
 opposite direction. 
 
 The man she had just perceived in the distance was 
 advancing so rapidly that his pace resembled* a run 
 . rather than a walk. 
 
 "It is hel" cried Frau Geiger in evident agitation. 
 
456 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 Yes! The man hurrying towards her wore a yellow 
 vest, yellow breeches and carried a stout cane. 
 
 When he saw the woman waiting at the garden 
 gate, he suddenly stopped, tossed the cane three times 
 into the air as if in sport, caught it again and then 
 rapidly approached her. 1 v^ 
 
 Frau Geiger — without saying a word — took the cane. 
 
 The woman now walked forward, followed by her 
 companion. 
 
 He was bathed in perspiration — covered with dust. 
 
 It was evident that he had been running a long dis- 
 tance. - 
 
 In fact as soon as he reached the house, he sank 
 down on a wooden bench, almost fainting. Brandy 
 and water, bread and cheese stood ready for him. 
 Wiping the perspiration from his forehead with his 
 shirt sleeve, he seized the glass and emptied the con- 
 tents at a single draught. 
 
 ' No word had yet been exchanged between the two, 
 but the gardener's wife held out her hand to the man. 
 as if she expected to receive something. 
 
 "Here!" said the latter at last, drew from under his 
 vest a small leather pouch suspended by a leather 
 strap, and gave it to the woman. 
 
 She snatched it eagerly, pulled her handkerchief 
 from her shoulders, slipped her head through the strap,. 
 Vet the pouch slide down under her bodice, fastened 
 the handkerchief again, and running to the basket of 
 flowers, which had been ready several hours, lifted it 
 on her head. 
 
 3^.f^.vi! 
 
" : ^-, THfi gardener's WIFE 457 
 
 When it was firmly placed on her head, she hurried 
 off towards the city without troubling herself in the 
 least about the man sitting in the house. 
 
 But the man, who had already made a four hours 
 journey and traversed, almost at a run, the distance 
 from the spot where a French courier on a horse 
 covered with foam, had handed him the leather pouch, 
 fell asleep from weariness as soon as he had finished 
 his breakfast, 
 
 Meantime the gardener's wife hurried as fast as her 
 feet could carry her to Herr Giinzer's house. 
 
 On reaching here, she hastily ascended the steps, 
 opened a door and stood in the private apartment of 
 the master of the dwelling. 
 
 "Ha!" cried Giinzer, who was pacing up and down, 
 evidently in the greatest agitation and had been waiting 
 for his visitor a long time — "at last, at last! Has he 
 come?" 
 
 "I ran instantly like a weasel as j'our Excellenc}- 
 commanded, with the basket which had already been 
 read)^ several hours," said Frau Geiger, removing the 
 basket with Giinzer's aid and setting it on the floor. 
 
 "And the pouch, the pouch!" 
 
 The woman removed her handkerchief and drew the 
 pouch from her bosom. 
 
 Giinzer eagerly seized it; he could scarcely wait for 
 her to draw her head out of the strap by which it was 
 suspended. 
 
 He now took a key, which he wore fastened by a 
 
458 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 cord around his own neck and unfastened the lock of 
 the leather bag. I 
 
 If Giinzer — sentenced to death — had been standing on 
 the scaffold and expected to find his pardon in the 
 pouch, his movements could not have been more 
 rapid. 
 
 / His hands trembled as he unlocked it and drew out 
 a despatch fastened by a large seal. 
 
 It was Louvois' seal, the paper was addressed to the 
 Sieur Giinzer of Plobsheim. 
 
 The man devoured the lines with sparkling eyes — 
 at each word his brow cleared and instead of an anx- 
 ious, troubled look his face at last wore an expression 
 of the utmost triumph. 
 
 The gardener's wife, who seemed to be perfectly at 
 home here, had meantime sat down in a chair and 
 watched him intently. 
 
 The neck handkerchief still lay en the floor beside 
 the basket; but the provoking garters with the pearl 
 G. would not stay fastened to-day. 
 
 As Giinzer finished the letter, the woman was just 
 tightening one. His eyes glittered, his head burned, 
 he took a step forward but hastily turned as if an 
 iron hand had seized and snatched him back. 
 
 "Madman!" he murmured, "let childish follies alone. 
 Have you not more important things to do?" 
 
 Hastening to a drawer in his writing-table, he took 
 out a handful of ducats, went back and threw them 
 into the lap of the delighted woman. 
 
THE gardener's WIFE 459 
 
 "That's a token of gratitude for your services, 
 Anna!" he said, "but they are not yet over and — you 
 must do still more for me." 
 
 The woman's whole face was one broad, radiant 
 smile of delight. Gunzer had never been so liberal as 
 to-day, why should she not declare herself ready for 
 any farther services? 
 
 She did so. 
 
 "I require an oath, Anna," said Gunzer. 
 
 'An oath?" repeated the woman. "About what?" 
 
 "That you will conceal from all the world — even your 
 husband — to the hour of your death, the secret services 
 you have performed and will still render." 
 
 "From that simpleton," cried the woman laughing, 
 "I should have plenty to do if I bothered about every- 
 thing he needn't know." 
 
 "But from every one else." 
 
 "You have already seen, Herr Gunzer, that I know 
 how to rule my tongue." 
 
 "Anna!" said Giinzer, putting his arm affectionately 
 around her waist, "these are secrets of a nature — " 
 
 "What do I care for your secrets. I don't want to 
 know them. If I can earn something by — " 
 
 "Why I think you might be satisfied to-day." 
 
 "Good gracious! So I am." 
 
 "But if you want to earn more in the same way — " 
 
 "Give me the oath, Herr Gunzer!" she cried, raising 
 her right hand. 
 
 Gunzer made her vow secrecy with a terrible oath. 
 

 460 A ROYAL ROBBER ' j. 
 
 - I 
 
 "And now," he said, "listen. Have you put the 
 flowers in your basket as I told you? " 
 
 "Of course, there are twelve little pots of plants and 
 three bouquets." 
 
 "One, two, three, six — nine — -twelve. Yes. But 
 there are only two bouquets. " 
 
 "Then one must have dropped out of the basket." 
 
 "Make two out of one as quick as you can." 
 
 The gardener's wife did so, bending low over the 
 basket. The neck handkerchief still lay on the ground 
 and Giinzer saw something more beautiful than flowers. 
 
 The bouquet was now divided into two smaller 
 ones, and the garcjener's wife stood erect. 
 
 "Now then, Anna, quick!" cried Giinzer, with an 
 energy unusual to him. "The greatest haste is neces- 
 sary. Twelve flower-pots and three bouquets make 
 fifteen. Here are the addresses of fifteen of the most 
 prominent magistrates. Go — as fast as your feet can 
 carry you, but in such a way as to attract no attention 
 — to each of these gentlemen, ask to see him in person 
 and give each — do you understand me?'' , 
 
 "Certainly!" • 
 
 "One of the flower-pots or bouquets," saying — "pay 
 close attention." 
 
 "I'm listening!" 
 
 "Herr Giinzer sends it. Greeting and happiness in 
 the country! Do you understand?" 
 
 "Zooks! " cried the gardener's wife laughing, "since 
 when have you taken me for a child? I'm to give 
 
THE gardener's WIFE 461 
 
 each of the fifteen gentlemen a flower-pot, saying: 
 'Herr Giinzer sends it. Greeting and happiness in 
 the countrv,' " 
 
 "Bravo!" cried Giinzer, clasping the woman in his 
 arms and giving her a hearty kiss, which she quietly 
 received. 
 
 "And now go, as fast as your feet can carry you," 
 said Giinzer, helping her to raise the basket. "For a 
 week, Anna, we must not see each other. At the end 
 of that time, bring me some flowers, then I shall want 
 very beautiful ones, so give me plenty of time to 
 choose, and — " 
 
 "Farewell, Herr Giinzer!" cried the gardener's wife, 
 already on her way out of the room. "In a week!" 
 
 Giinzer clasped his head with both hands. Heavens! 
 how his thoughts surged through his brains. 
 : As soon as the fifteen receive the flowers, each, 
 according to agreement, will send to his friends. In 
 an hour, if Anna does not delay, we can meet at the 
 appointed place. But the deuce — the woman — 3'et 
 what have I to do with her, now, when the moment of 
 victory, won by 3'ears of "toil, is approaching? For- 
 ward quickly, the die is cast. General Montclar and 
 Colonel von Alsfeld are on their way; at midnight — 
 hurrah, at midnight Strassburg will be mine, and I, 
 I will lay it at the feet of His Majesty, Louis XIV, 
 King of France. 
 
 -iv, r_~«.. ' _._ ^_ J:rL_/^!j?&Vw. 
 

 CHAPTER III. 
 
 HANNIBAL ANTE PORTAS. 
 
 It was the evening of the same day. The interior 
 of the house occupied by Syndicus Frantz had assumed 
 a fest'al appearance, especially in the story in which 
 the family lived. 
 
 The worthy Syndicus' room was charmingly decora- 
 ted and was just receiving from Hedwig and Alma the 
 final touch, which consisted of a transparency sur- 
 rounded by garlands, which in simple but earnest 
 words expressed sincere gratitude for the recovery of 
 the beloved husband and father. 
 
 This was Hugo's work; but the rest of the decora- 
 tions had proceeded from the hearts and hands of the 
 mother and daughter. 
 
 The principal object with every woman — and this 
 was beautifully shown in H-edwig and Alma — should 
 be to keep their feelings truthful in every incident of 
 life. 
 
 To-day, for the first time since his sickness, Syn- 
 dicus Frantz had attended the council of magistrates, 
 and Hedwig, Alma and Hugo were expecting his return. 
 
 "Here, Hugo," said Alma, casting such a happy 
 
 radiant glance at her lover, that the latter longed to 
 
 462 
 
 ■r^Sj^,i.JA^^tS^t ?.is:tiJiaMii'^i>ik, j-^^i»^^>*^^&n^%i^- ;&eLAS:s^iStK:c^i^^ui^£i45.^.:3^.^^^ul^ ^ ^ 
 
 ..^^^:-;^: 
 
HAVNIBAL ANTE PORTAS 463 
 
 embrace her, "let us fasten the last garland here. It 
 will look well on the high back of the chair. Then 
 when father sits down in it, it will seem as if the dear 
 flowers were taking him in their arms." 
 
 "You are right!" replied Hugo, as he aided Alma 
 to carrry her idea into execution, "onl}' I pity the 
 flowers. " 
 
 "Pity them? Why?" 
 
 "On account of the jealousy they will feel when you 
 throw 5''our arms around your father's neck, then the 
 fairest and sweetest of the flowers will embrace him." 
 
 "Flatterer!" replied Alma with a slight blush, yet 
 giving him such a frank affectionate glance that Hugo 
 could no longer restrain himself and, bending over the 
 back of the chair, impressed a tender kiss on her 
 cheek. 
 
 With his arm thrown around Alma, Hugo gazed 
 with satisfaction at the completed task, while Alma, 
 leaning her head upon his shoulder, followed the 
 direction of his glance with a happy smile. Then the 
 young man turned, and looking deep into her eyes, 
 sai,d: 
 
 "How beautifully this common feeling, thought and 
 labor unites us. How delightful it will be, Alma, 
 when we belong to each other enti-rel}' for life." 
 
 "Yes, it will be beautiful, inexpressibly beautiful," 
 she said softly, while her cheeks were suffused with 
 that timid flush of girlish confusion which far surpasses 
 levery other charryj, and seems to exert a magical influ- 
 
 
464 A ROVAL ROBBF.R f 
 
 ence not only over ardent youth, but the grave man 
 in his prime, nay even the graybeard. "It will be 
 beautiful, and yet the thought of this future often 
 makes me anxious — " i 
 
 "Makes you anxious?" 
 
 "Because I see no tokens that it will ever become 
 the presev*. Do not the political storms daily in- 
 crease? Where is the prospect of the happy time for 
 which father said we must wait?" I 
 
 "It will come." 
 
 "And storms lie behind it also." " 
 
 "Storms? Oh dearest!" cried Hugo, gravely and 
 tenderly drawing the beloved form closer to his heart, 
 "when we are once united, a loving married pair, let 
 the storms come. Then rely on me and our love. 
 Remain frank, trusting, happy and brave as you are 
 now, and we will conquer everything that assails us 
 from without; nay, the darker and fiercer grows the 
 tempest, the lighter and happier will be our hearts." 
 
 "And how easy and sweet the duty of a good house- 
 keeper. and wife will be to me," replied Alma, her eyes 
 radiant with joy. "How I will always meet you, 4ear 
 good brave heart, with gentleness and love, that our 
 life ma}- be like a beautiful melody, a long musical 
 accord, in which the dissonances of the outside world 
 will vanish." 1 ^ 
 
 -^ The father entered and was received ' with deligKt, 
 Hedwig saw at the first glance with pleasure that the 
 attendance at the council of magistrates had left no. 
 
 .*, ■?*■ r .■" '5^:?a'" -"j^ 
 
' ^^^e*^s??^'i^^"~- "^'-^ : ■ 
 
 f V ::: - - HANNTBAL ANTE PORTAS 465 
 
 cloud on her husband's brow. And she saw aright. ^ 
 
 The French minister had been questioned in regard 
 to some disquieting rumors about the movements of 
 French troops in Alsace and especially the massing of 
 large numbers at Brusach and Freiburg, but the ex- 
 planations received and laid before the magistrates 
 to-day were so perfectly satisfactory that even the anti- 
 French party declared themselves entirely content. 
 General Montclar merely intended to review the army 
 and this had been arranged to take place not very far 
 from the frontiers of Strassburg. 
 
 i Moreover, the spies, who had been sent out, 
 brought the decisive message that the French troops 
 would be instantly recalled to their respective garri- 
 sons. 
 
 The French ambassador's letter to the council was 
 full of the >warmest expressions of the peaceful, friendly 
 disposition of France. 
 
 Thus the Syndicus. had returned home somewhat 
 soothed and, as he did not wish to cloud the joy of 
 his family, his firm will banished from his mind the 
 last trace of anxiety. 
 
 Friends and relatives had arrived at his house and 
 all united around a simple, but excellent supper at 
 which universal gayety prevailed. 
 
 Alma appeared happier than all the others. Hugo 
 
 thought he had never before seen her in such a joyous 
 
 mood. Alma's simple nature possessed a peculiar 
 
 charm. The most insignificant event was made as 
 
 30 Robber ' 
 
 -ii^^I&?£&R^»?fc?Bls^■J:^T^-;l^irJril.,-:4-^V■lL . ,^_"..---j:i^-.,-:'-'&!iffleBfl¥^- 
 

 4^6 A ROYAL ROBBER i 
 
 charming as a fairy tale, by the manner in which she 
 related it. 
 
 This was particularly the case this evening. Her 
 happy mood lent a new charm to all her good qualities, 
 her bright, quick intellect and clear mind. 
 
 Hugo often looked at her in astonishment, he per- 
 ceived so many new and beautiful traits of character 
 to-day, though he had known her so long. 
 
 The gay mood of the compan}- remained unaltered 
 and unshadowed all the evening and until far into 
 the night. 
 
 All present were sincerely happy and when, towards 
 twelve o'clock, the friends and acquaintances — out of 
 consideration for the invalid — wished to take leave, he 
 himself begged them to stay. 
 
 They did so gladly. Hedwig brought out some 
 bottles of fine old sack, and thus, amid jest and 
 laughter, the mirth and pleasure reached a point it 
 had long lacked. 
 
 As the glass clinked merrily and the worthy people 
 assembled in the room gayly shook hands, the clock 
 in the neighboring cathedral struck the hour of twelve. 
 » "Midnight!" exclaimed several, "it is time — '* 
 
 Then suddenly all were silent. 
 
 "What was that?" asked the Syndicus. 
 
 "It seems to me as if I heard the sound of distant 
 firing," replied Hugo, opening the window. j 
 
 "Perhaps a fire has broken out in the city," ex- 
 claimed Alma In alarm> "How I pity the poorpeople 
 it will ruin," i 
 
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HA^TNIBAt ANTE PORTAS 467 
 
 All ran for their wraps. 
 
 "But what?" 
 
 "Don't you hear anything?" said the Syndicus, who 
 had suddenly grown deadly pale as if some terrible 
 thought had darted through his mind, "another gun, 
 another, heavy firing — " 
 ! "What is it?" all exclaimed, 
 
 "For God's sake, what does it mean?" 
 
 "What does it mean?" cried the Syndicus, drawing 
 his tall figure up to its full height, while his eyes 
 flashed like those of an angry lion, "what does it 
 mean?" he repeated, in a trembling voice, and while 
 the glass he held in his hand fell shattered on the 
 floor, added with an exclamation of pain "it means 
 treachery!" 
 
 "Treachery?" repeated the whole party, turning 
 pale. 
 
 "Yes, yes, treachery," cried the Syndicus again, "this 
 is the cause of the most exaggerated assurances of the 
 friendship of France at the meeting of magistrates to- 
 day. That is why — oh! God, it is Montclar, return- 
 ing from the review of his army." 
 
 Suddenl}' the bells in the churches and towers along 
 the wall began to peal loudly, then came one, two, 
 three heav}?' reports. 
 
 "The alarm cannon on the walls!" cried all, run- 
 ning for caps and canes, shawls and overcoats. 
 
 Hugo now returned panting for breath; as he could 
 discover nothing from the window, he had rushed 
 
 /-«r::E- 
 

 L 
 
 468 
 
 A ROTAT, ROBBER 
 
 down into the street. But there also nobody knevi 
 what this nocturnal firing meant. 
 
 "Only this much is certain!" cried Hugo, no less 
 pale than the Syndicus, "that the firing is at or near 
 the Rhine redoubt." 
 
 "And what do you think of it, my boy?" asked the 
 Syndicus. 
 
 "May God withdraw the sun from this court of 
 France," Hugo burst forth, grinding his teeth, "for 
 all signs must deceive if this is not a shameless breach 
 of peace, a fierce attack, after the most solemn assur- 
 ances of good will, under cover of night and darkness." 
 
 "That is so!" cried the Syndicus, "my coat, my 
 official cap!" 
 
 "What are you going to do, father?" exclaimed 
 mother and daughter in one breath. 
 
 "My duty as usual. I'll go and — " 
 
 "But consider, you have just been so ill," pleaded 
 Hedwig and Alma. 
 
 "The times are sicker than I, they are suffering 
 from rascality!" cried the old man, pushing them 
 away, "my coat, my cap!" 
 
 Hedwig and Alma pleaded, the firing still echoed 
 in the distance — the alarm bells pealed loudly, the 
 reports of the cannon sounded in the intervals, the 
 signal horns also echoed on the night air, summoning 
 the citizens and members of the guilds. ' ^ 
 
 The Syndicus was ready to hurry off, Hugo also stood 
 prepared, the guests had already hastened to their homes. 
 
jWfJ^IP^- 
 
 /-,''''„'^' " HANNIBAL ANTE PORTAS 469 
 
 "Now, let us go!" cried the Syndicus, with an energy 
 that would have done honor to a younger man, "let us 
 go and may God protect you and our good city." 
 
 But at the same moment, the door flew wide open 
 and Wenck — armed to the teeth — rushed in, his cafe 
 crimson with fury; his eyes were almost starting from 
 their sockets, the veins on his forehead were swollen, 
 his head — as usual in moments of excitement — seemed 
 sunk still lower between his shoulders. 
 
 "Heaven and Hell!" he cried, forgetting all consid- 
 eration in his indescribable rage, "this is a fine busi- 
 ness. There are the consequences when traitors sit in 
 " the council of magistrates and direct the affairs of 
 government. It would have been better to demolish 
 all the fortifications, as they did the one on the Rhine, 
 while the Syndicus was ill. Now we have it." 
 
 "What? " 
 
 "What "has happened?" 
 
 "The fortification on the Rhine? Didn't I say so?" 
 
 "What about it?" cried all in a breath. 
 
 "What about it, Herr Syndicus?" cried the little 
 tailor, stretching out both clenched fists, "it has gone 
 to the devil. The French have attacked and captured 
 it!" 
 
 All trembled as if they had been stabbed to the heart. 
 
 "The French? Captured? In the night? In the 
 midst of peace?" cried Hedwig. 
 
 "Oh! why were we such simpletons as to believe 
 their assurances!" exclaimed Wenck. 
 

 470 A ROYAL ROBBER " i ^ ■ . 
 
 "And are you sure, Wenck," the Syndlcus now 
 asked hastily, "that the fortifications on the Rhine 
 have been attacked and catpured by the French?" 
 
 "Unfortunately ! Unfortunatel}'!" 
 
 "Then to our posts," cried the old man, "now is the 
 time to act." 
 
 And with these words the Syndicus, Hugo von Zed- 
 litz and Wenck hurried away. 
 
 But what indescribable confusion and excitement 
 prevailed in the city! 
 
 Everyone was rushing to and fro in the darkness. 
 
 Nobody knew exactly what had happened. 
 
 "The French!" 
 
 "The French are here! 
 
 "The Rhine fortification is captured!" 
 
 "The whole city is surrounded!" 
 
 "Up citizens, the enemy! the enemyl " 
 
 "To the walls!" 
 
 "To arms!" 
 
 "Down with the traitors!" 
 
 "Down with Frischman, the hypocrite, the liar, the 
 French hound!" 
 
 "Down with the traitors in the council!" 
 
 "Mount the cannon on the walls!" 
 
 "Up, citizens, up, up!" 
 
 "Death and damnation to the traitors!" 
 
 Such were the shrieks and shouts that echoed through 
 the night — and still the firing continued,^ the bells 
 rang from the steeples, cannon thundered from the 
 
 
 ■{'■, !■ 'ikSk-'JMi.££r.'. ■-■-ii^i^'i",,- ■i-^-ifei'-i 
 
HANNIBAL ANTE PORTAS 47I 
 
 walls, and the signal horns sounded In the streets. 
 • All were running to and fro, the magistrates to the 
 •Rathhaus, the citizens armed and unarmed, to the 
 guild-rooms and walls, the few soldiers capable of 
 duty to the gates to increase the number of defenders, 
 women with dishevelled hair, only half dressed in 
 their haste, rushing to the corners of the /Streets, tc 
 hear and see what was going on. 
 
 And to add to the confusion, darkness brooded over 
 the city, only interrupted here and there by the flar- 
 ing of lights. 
 
 But thg/^worst feature of all was the universal lack 
 of order and management. 
 
 A large number of the magistrates had lost their 
 wits. Commander von Jenneggen was not to be found, 
 the soldiers, half of whom were sick, had only one 
 officer capable of service, some of the officers and 
 principal men of the armed citizens and guilds were 
 absent from the places of meeting or did not know 
 what was to be done, and quarreled because one 
 wanted this, the other that. 
 
 Who was to command? 
 
 How and by whom were the long lines of walls and 
 numerous fortifications of the city to be garrisoned? 
 This was not possible, even If all the soldiers and 
 citizens could have been assembled and — a large num- 
 ber of the latter had gone to the Frankfort fair. 
 
 The key of the arsenal was loudly demanded, that 
 guns might be mounted on the walls. 
 
'~-x ^i- -f****.' '". ^ ■' y:=sr#^«af^¥»5w^^^E^vpi^ir 
 
 472 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 Was it in Jenneggen's possession or the principal 
 magistrate's? Nobody knew. . . 
 
 And the magistrate himself? Part of the citizens 
 wanted him to give counsel, help, explanations, orders 
 — others raged against him, charged him with being 
 the sole cause of the trouble, or shrieked that he had 
 betrayed the city. 
 
 Crowds rushed toward the Rathhaus, shrieking, 
 raging, swearing. 
 
 And in fact, the state of affairs among the magis- 
 trates was not much better. Here also confusion, 
 disorder, irresolution and the darkest passions pre- 
 vailed. Only a small number of the magistrates re- 
 tained their presence of mind, at their head were Syn- 
 dicus Frantz and Dominique Dietrich. 
 
 Gunzer had rushed to Frischmann to demand an 
 explanation of this attack from the French ambassa- 
 dors in the name of the Senate. He now returned 
 with the statement that Frischmann protested by all 
 that was sacred, that he knew as little about the 
 matter as the worshipful senate itself. 
 
 And he told no falsehood, Monseigneur Louvois had 
 not considered it necessary to inform the ambassador, 
 or he had only received directions, in case any in- 
 quiries were made about the assembling and move- 
 ments of troops, to give the magistrates of Strassburg 
 the warmest and most soothing assurances of friend- 
 ship. 
 
 He did so and meantime — the four couriers Louvois 
 
 ; 'A.-^y* !£<'*:^ v*&_ ^1 ij'i>«„r.si'^;^ 
 
HANNIBAL ANTE PORTAS 473 
 
 had despatched after Chamilli's return from Basle, 
 had also done their duty: the order for the capture of 
 Strassburg had been given. 
 
 General Montclar, who commanded the troops in 
 Alsace instantly assembled — under the pretext of 
 reviewing his army — thirty or thirty-five thousand 
 men. The review was really held, only Colonel von 
 Alsfeld instantly set out with a large division, and 
 strangely enough moved in the direction of Strassburg, 
 noiselessly occupying that very evening some woods 
 in the immediate vicinity, where stores had already 
 been placed. 
 
 No one had the least suspicion of it, but at mid- 
 night Alsfeld emerged from his concealment and 
 rushed with all his troops on the Rhine fortification, 
 which by Louvois' desire and advice was feebly gar- 
 risoned and half demolished. Of course, after a short 
 struggle, it fell into his hands. 
 
 The post was taken and all the garrison, who did 
 not succeed in flying to the city, were prisoners. 
 
 Such was the state of affairs noAV. 
 
 But was this all? Must not attacks from other 
 quarters be hourly expected, perhaps a general assault 
 upon the city? And was it possible that such a crying 
 injustice, such an unexampled act of villainy could 
 proceed from the French government? Or, was the 
 whole matter a misunderstanding, an undue exercise 
 of military authority on the part of Colonel von Alsfeld 
 for General Montclar? 
 
 iiiT^r-'jiU:<--^^?'-".:^^wrr^^- - 
 

 1 
 
 • f 
 
 474 A ROYAL ROBBER » j 
 
 ""'■■■' , ■ i - 
 
 This must first be ascertained. i 
 
 But now, after the first panic and cry of Hannibal 
 ante portas, the most able citizens took the lead. , 
 
 The alarm bells still pealed, the trumpets still 
 sounded, shouts echoed on the air and crowds rushed 
 to and fro, but Wenck, Hugo von Zedlitz and other 
 brave men had already, though with great difficulty, 
 brought order out of the confusion in the armed guilds. 
 
 Citizens and militia hurried to the walls to be pre- 
 pared for battle in case of further attacks. 
 
 The resolute and patriotic party among the magis- 
 trates had also speedily conquered and restored order. 
 
 More than sixty citizens, with their servants, 
 guarded the Rathhaus — Frischmann, whom the crowd 
 in their rage, threatened to murder, received similar 
 protection, the senate remained in permanent session, 
 and cannon were brought to the walls from every direc- 
 tion. At the same time messengers were sent to 
 Colonel von Alsfeld and repeatedly despatched to 
 Frischmann, to learn the meaning of such an insolent 
 assault, such an unexpected violation of the peace, 
 how it happened that, after all the assurances of the 
 king and the heavy security given by the city for its 
 neutrality, the peace had been so shamefully broken. 
 
 Couriers, bearing despatches containing urgent 
 appeals for aid, were instantly sent to the emperor and 
 Reichstag at Regensburg. 
 
 Meantime the citizens waited in unutterable anxiety 
 and excitement. 
 
HANNIBAL ANTE PORTAS 475 
 
 Frischmann renewed his assurances of being in no 
 way connected with what had occurred. But Colonel 
 von Alsfeld — after the manner of Louvois, perhaps 
 even by his direction — added mockery to his disgrace- 
 ful act of violence. "General Montclar," he replied in 
 smooth words, "had thought it well to pursue this 
 course, because he had learned that imperial troops 
 were to occupy the pass. The city was thus rendered 
 a positive service." 
 
 A second messenger returned without having effected 
 anything, but bearing a message that fell upon the 
 patriots like a thunderbolt. 
 
 Colonel von Alsfeld had been shown that there 
 were no imperial troops within fifty miles and the 
 feeble garrison of Phillippsburg could not venture 
 upon such an undertaking. In reply, the colonel 
 laughed and excused his conduct on the, pretext of an 
 order received from General Montclar, which he had too 
 .blindly obeyed. However — and this was the thunder- 
 bolt — the most worthy magistrates need only to wait 
 until morning, when General Montclar would arrive 
 in person and could give more explicit information. 
 
 "JIanni7>a/ anU J>orif as/" cried Syndicus Frrantz, turn- 
 ing deadly pale, while his gloomy eyes rested upon 
 Giinzer. "Hannibal ante portas! Will the traitors 
 among us open the gates to him?" • 
 
 A terrible storm arose, when suddenly news arrived 
 that Louvois was in Breisach, the king on the way to 
 vStrassburg. « f 
 
i-svf-;?- »9»'*:,T>"f^c's^' '^^FS'T'^'v^s'^^'xS^ «'^'-^*^'"^^^ 
 
 476 A ROYAL ROBBER ! 
 
 All were silent — they sat pale and rigid as marble 
 statues, but in the eyes of Syndicus Frantz glittered a 
 tear — it fell upon the corpse of the ancient republic 
 of Strassburg. I 
 
 r 
 
 A 
 
 ■ ifj.. ".'rta^.^^'«^VS^.l.';t.J«r^'a^b^-»i y^'"ii*ii<-V - 
 
a(^-r;srrrx?»*^-'v 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A SAD DAY. 
 
 The night through which Strassburg had just passed 
 had been a terrible one — terrible especiall)' in con- 
 sequence of the excitement of the entire population. 
 Thousands stood in the darkness on the walls, listen- 
 ing anxiously, expecting every moment that some new 
 attack would take place. 
 
 Morning came and with it amarmy of thirty thousand 
 men, commanded by General Montclar, appeared before 
 the city. - 
 
 • The magistrates, as was natural, had remained in 
 council. The terrible situation of the city had alla5'ed 
 the storm. Gunzer and his party beh*aved as if they 
 were frantic with indignation at the unwarrantable 
 conduct of France; Syndicus Frantz and the patriots 
 sat with gloomy brows, determined to take the utmost 
 risks. They could still rely upon the majority of the 
 citizens and guilds. If the city only held out bravely 
 till help came from Phillippsburg or elsewhere. 
 Strassburg had never yet been captured, Strassburg 
 had withstood Charles the Bold, Heinrich II, the 
 numerous army of France and Sweden during the 
 Thirty Years War and thus saved freedom and inde- 
 
 477 ■.: 
 
JSSP- n. f^W'*s:T^WT^ ('^""'V'^SSBSTO^l 
 
 478 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 pendence, why should she not conquer now? Though 
 assailed by a powerful army — was it to be supposed 
 that Louis XIV would carry his arbitrary will so far 
 as to commit open robbery upon the German empire, 
 venture to brsak the peace by armed force, trampled 
 every right under foot and perhaps rouse all Europe 
 to war? 
 
 Ammeister Dominique Dietrich and Syndicus Frant2 
 now took matters in hand and strangely enough this 
 time Giinzer joined them. 
 
 The first consideration was to arm men enough to 
 keep communication with the outside country open 
 and enable the inhabitants to enter the city. 
 
 For this purpose several thousand men capable of 
 bearing arms had already been secured. 
 
 To the surprise of the Syndicus — who since Gunzer's 
 rascally trick against the von Zorn family had despised 
 as well as hated him — the latter joined in this move- 
 ment also and with such apparent zeal as to perplex 
 many. 
 
 For greater security a second courier had been de- 
 spatched to the Emperor and Reichstag. 
 
 Moreover the last cannon in the arsenal had been 
 distributed to the citizens to mount on the walls of 
 the city, and the guns there were also given to arm 
 those who might hasten to her relief. ' 
 
 With the first dawn of morning. Colonel von Alsfeld 
 had advanced towards the city from the Rhine. 
 Fifteen minutes loiter came the news that bodies 
 
A SAD DAV 479 
 
 of troops were approaching from other directions. 
 
 Soon the western side was also enclosed and by 
 noon, the whole city. 
 
 Gunzer secretly exulted; he had known all this 
 before. The fatal words "too late" now characterized 
 the measures of the magistrates, which he approved. 
 Before the peasants, summoned from the neighboring 
 country, could come to the city's aid, every avenue 
 of approach would be closed by French troops and all 
 communication cut off. But the worst feature was 
 that Strassburg was so closely invested that all the 
 couriers to the emperor and Reichstag, though they 
 had used various disguises, would be taken and their 
 despatches delivered to Montclar. 
 
 To be sure none of this was known within the city. 
 Gunzer had shuffled the cards in such a way that the 
 game could not be lost. 
 
 The Senate now attempted to obtain farther explan- 
 ation from Montclar by means of a letter. The reply 
 was awaited wjth mortal anxiety. At last it came: 
 the French gl^eral flatly refused the magistrates' re- 
 quest, but according to a royal command, asked to treat 
 with the council by means of deputies. 
 
 Haughty — in a half imperious, half mocking tone — 
 the general explained to the deputies that the city had 
 been ceded to the king by the treaty of Westphalia, 
 and his right was confirmed by that of Nymwegen. 
 Although His Majesty, Louis XIV, had not hitherto 
 considered it advisable to assert his claim, it now 
 
 
■ J^^~-i' .X- ■■ ''■■■- 
 
 480 ' A ROYAL ROBBER j 
 
 suited his interests to do so, as he had received the 
 unexpected news that a considerable body of imperial 
 troops had been transferred to the city and passes of 
 the Rhine. 
 
 Montclar, with the air of a patron, added that he 
 had desired to inform the city — to which he had 
 aways been friendly — of the condition of affairs in 
 time, that it might not by reckless obstinacy plunge 
 into misfortune and ruin. The Minister of War, 
 Monseigneur Louvois, would arrive on the following 
 day and it would then depend upon the citizens them- 
 selves whether by submission they retained their rights 
 and form of government, or by resistance exposed them- 
 selves to the peril of being treated as enemies and 
 rebels! 
 
 At these words the older men among the deputies 
 were seized with indignation, especially Syndicus 
 Frantz, who stood at their head. 
 
 With his figure drawn up to its full height, stead- 
 fast and grave— as beseemed a German — he answered 
 the French general v,rith great dignity that they 
 appealed tp the long maintained independence of their 
 little free state, whose existence, by the law of nations, 
 was as unassailable as that of any other recognized 
 government; that they also appealed to the words of 
 the Westphalian treaty of peace, which established its 
 permanence, that the city upto the time of the treaty of 
 Nymwegen had always dealt with France as a sove- 
 reign power, and even at the present time France had 
 
A SAB DAV .. 481 
 
 an accredited ambassador to her, and finally, it was 
 not becoming in France to give the treaty a one-sided 
 interpretation. 
 
 General Montclar, who certainly had nor expected 
 such a grave, dignified and resolute bearing on the 
 part of the deputies, listened to the Syndicus in 
 surprise, with an air of gloomy pride. 
 
 Montclar scarcely suppressed his anger, onl}' the 
 mask of cold scorn and military brutality enabled him 
 to conceal it. Arrayed with this he now curtly declared, 
 that he had nothing to do with any treaties, his duty 
 was merely to execute the commands imposed upon 
 him. The council had to consider the answer it was 
 to give the minister the next morning, but he could 
 tell the minister's reply in advance: it would be sub- 
 mission or utter destruction of the city. 
 
 With these words, he proudly turned his back upon 
 the deputies. 
 
 The return of the deputies was awaited by the citi- 
 zens with the utmost anxiety. Crowds thronged 
 around the gates of the city. Everywhere only pale, 
 troubled, careworn faces were seen. When the deputies 
 — themselves gloomy and depressed — returned, every 
 one beset them with questions, all wished to know the 
 fate that threatened the beloved city. But the majority 
 of the magistrates, who were themselves extremely 
 perplexed by the condition of affairs, now lost their 
 presence of mind. All classes of the population were 
 instantly informed of Montclar* s answer; public 
 
 ?/ Robber .. 
 
 ...sSTs-^ '.L. ^ jfitK^''^&£..sL%j ^..'o.w.^ .•ilti.tr .•:s,.^Ar^.^>ii«^^»^rjfiu^.,...a^di!u;:c^ 
 
482 A ROYAL ROBBER "/:-': j '"'-?*?'' 
 
 praj'ers were ordered, the whole great council with Its 
 three hundred judges was summoned and Commander 
 von Jenneggen received orders to prepare to make the 
 best possible resistance. 
 
 Jenneggen instantly appeared before the magistrates, 
 but his report was also extremely discouraging. 
 
 "He was ready to do his duty and obey the com- 
 mands of the most puissant and worthy council," he 
 said, "only the possibility of a real effective defense 
 was very remote, nay utterly unimaginable. It need 
 only be considered that Strassburg had fourteen irreg- 
 ular bastions, which must all be defended, while he 
 was not in condition to garrison one, since of the five 
 hundred soldiers under his command only one-half 
 were fit for duty and but one officer was capable of 
 service. 
 
 The despondency of the magistrates had now reached 
 the point for which Giinzer had been waiting with 
 secret impatience. When therefore Syndicus Frantz 
 rose, and with ardent zeal, with the power and strength 
 of an eloquence that springs from the depth of the 
 soul, implored the fathers of the city not to lose courage 
 now; when he pointed to the strength which the pop- 
 ulation of a city like Strassburg can always develope 
 when animated by a bold, manly, patriotic spirit, when 
 he advised that men, youths, children and gray-beards 
 should be summoned to arms, when he called attention 
 to the fact that aid might yet come from without, and 
 the walls of Strassburg were supplied with a large 
 
 -^y'- ;s^^ 
 
 '>^f ■ v''^"-ln-Y'ii*k-' iir"l'SlT 
 
1- '. A SAD DAY 483 
 
 number of the best cannon, to serve which — in case 
 of necessity — there would be no insurmountable im- 
 pediment then, then Giinzer suddenly stepped for- 
 ward, played the anxious patriot, sorel}' concerned 
 about the destin}' of beloved, beautiful Strassburg, 
 and in his turn, with fervid eloquence entreated all 
 present, for Heaven's sake, not to enter into these 
 well-meant but fool-hardy ideas of Syndicus Frantz. 
 
 "Oh! men of the city, do not allov/ 3 ourselves to be 
 blinded!" he exclaimed as if overv/helmed with grief, 
 and tears filled his eyes. "You have just heard how 
 weak we unhappily are and —before our walls stands 
 an army of forty thousand men accustomed to victory! 
 One shot from our walls and the signal Vv'ill be .given 
 .—General Montclar will order his troops to storm the 
 city! Then woe to us and Strassburg. Then our be- 
 loved cit}'- will be given to the flames — your houses will 
 fall in ashes, pillage will rob every man of his last 
 grain of corn, your wives and daughters will be ruined 
 and streams of blood —hear me, fathers of the cit}' — 
 streams of the blood of our citizens will cry to Heaven 
 for vengeance on those who misled you and the people. 
 
 "I vote for a sensible negotiation with the crown of 
 France, and above all that the mad crowds of citizens, 
 who now have possession of the walls and guns of the 
 city, be refused ammunition of every description on 
 any grounds you may think proper. " 
 
 "Yes, yes, yes!" was shouted on every side. 
 
 What did it avail that Frantz and a few others of 
 
:r*s- j-jfSi^ ws-;^- 
 
 484 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBEft 
 
 liis Stamp battled with all their strength, enthusiasm, 
 and logic against "the phantoms of terror and self- 
 created images of horror? 
 
 Their voices were drowned and they were finally 
 outvoted by an immense majority. Ammeister Domi- 
 nique Deitrich and all the discreet ones were on 
 Giinzer's side. 
 
 The proposal to negotiate with Monseigneur Louvois 
 and withhold all ammunition from the citizens, that 
 no incautious, hare-brained man should bring misfor- 
 tune, was carried. 
 
 Syndicus Frantz and the few who shared his views 
 protested against this resolution in voices trembling 
 with grief and agitation. 
 
 Giinzer bit his lips till they bled. 
 
 "Now the simpletons are caught in the snare!" he 
 whispered to Hecker, one of the purchased magis- 
 trates, who sat beside him. 
 
 "Thank God!" the latter murmured; but at the same 
 time turning deadly pale — Syndicus Frantz was appeal- 
 ing to the great council. 
 
 At last the conflict resulted in the support of the 
 resolution just formed, by the determination to com- 
 mit the final decision — in regard to the negotiations 
 with Louvois — to the great council of the three hun- 
 dred as the representatives of the whole body of 
 citizens, as was natural in so important a case. 
 
 . ■■:9iiaii.-.v!--jSlii i.^-i." ■ : 
 
 sfiS'K^iZl'.jiiX:. - 
 

 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE CAPITULATION. 
 
 The night of the 28th and 29th of September of the 
 year 1681 — one of the most terrible to Strassburg — ■ 
 was passed in anxiety, terror, and tribulation, but 
 quietly. 
 
 Neither the magistrates nor the citizens had left 
 their posts, since no one knew whether General Mont- 
 clar might not make another treacherous attack upon 
 the city. But everything remained quiet, and morn- 
 ing slowly dawned conveying fresh cares to men 
 already exhausted by the night of watching. 
 
 The thought of this decision weighed heavily upon 
 all minds; there were but two possibilities in it: 
 either subjection to the crown of France and with it 
 the total resignation of the beloved ancient independ- 
 ence and freedom, the sacrifice of the republican form 
 of government which, by history, birth and habit, had 
 been interwoven with their very natures, separation 
 from tfie beloved native land, or a terrible, almost 
 hopeless struggle, which might end in the total de- 
 struction of the city, its transformation into dust and 
 ashes, the sacrifice of property and life. To be sure 
 
 it was possible — at least this was the hope cherished 
 
 485 
 
 4: 
 
486 A ROYAL ROBBER | _: 
 
 by the braver portions of the citizens — that the couriers 
 sent out — they had been despatched to the neighbor- 
 ing fortress of Philippsburg and the nearest German 
 princes, as well as the Congress at Frankfort — would 
 soon return with help: but this hope was as faint as 
 the one that Louvois and Louis XIV would shrink 
 from a deed of actual violence. 
 
 The terrible examples, which had occurred in the 
 Netherlands and Palatinate, were still too fresh In the 
 hearts of all for them to believe in any human feeling, 
 the slightest respect for international law on the part 
 of the ruler of France and his ministers and generals. 
 
 Moreover, the majority of the citizens preserved true 
 loyalty to Germany, saw In the French only enemies 
 of their native land and oppressors of freedom, and 
 were ready, under all circumstancdi4_to make any sacri- 
 fice for the preservation of their independence. Should 
 the citizens of Strassburg, who looked back with 
 pride to the republican freedom and independence pre- 
 served for four hundred years, in whom this pride had 
 become a portion of their flesh and blood, so lightly 
 resign their precious privileges? 
 
 The robbers had now come like the thief in the 
 night, and^ — the traitors shamefully bound the hands 
 of the imperilled party by giving, as If in mockery, 
 the brave citizens cannon which they rendered useless 
 by refusing ammunition. 
 
 Wenck and Hugo von Zedlitz, as well as a large 
 portion of the guilds — were enraged by this conduct 
 
'rff^^^?^ " V :5;^323w"^\;i;^s^; .•.^.■.;--5"; " 
 
 ;. - ■ '■ THE CAPJTTJLATION- "'• g, - ^ 487 
 
 on the part of the magistrates. All demanded to 
 have the arsenals broken open. But in the consulta- 
 tion which had taken place during the night upon the 
 walls among themselves, Hugo von Zedlitz had op- 
 posed this act of self-help for the momdHt; a deputa- 
 tion, with Wenck at its head, had been sent to the 
 magistrates to urge with the greatest energy the dis- 
 tribution of the necessary ammunition. 
 
 The deputies had been at the Rathhaus since four 
 in the morning — hours had passed, and the citizens 
 still waited vainl)^ for their return. 
 
 Meantime, the guilds stationed on the walls had 
 given the chief command to Hugo von Zedlitz. 
 
 The most important matter for Hugo was to obtain 
 a survey of the situation of affairs and ascertain what 
 stations the enemy had occupied near the city. It 
 was also necessary to know whether any help was 
 approaching from the distance. 
 
 For this purpose, while awaiting the return of the 
 deputation,. Hugo went up to the top of the cathedral. 
 
 In spite of his youth and strength, the ascent was 
 to-day a difficult one. He had neither slept nor eaten 
 a mouthful of food for two days and nights. 
 
 The first rays of the rising sun were just illuminat- 
 ing the steeples as Hugo reached the top of the cathe- 
 dral. 
 
 How beautiful, how like Paradise was the fair 
 country outspread before him. 
 
 Wherever he looked he beheld long lines of tents — 
 
 iF-»v? ..j.^ ~,^ 
 
488 * A ROYAL ROBBER ' 
 
 the abodes of soldiers summoned to capture beautiful 
 Strassburg — or give her up to fire and sword, death 
 and ruin. 
 
 Oh! Hugo felt as if a thousand swords were pierc- 
 ing his heart. 
 
 And no help from without! No possibility that 
 even the peasants who lived outside of Strassburg 
 could reach the city. 
 
 Every road was occupied by large bodies of troops, 
 every pass and village guarded. 
 
 No help! No imperial troops! Not a single Ger- 
 man banner in sight ! 
 
 Hugo felt as if his eager eyes must summon armies 
 to the citWs aid. 
 
 It seemed as if he must shriek aloud to the German 
 Empire, "Come, German brothers! Come to the help 
 of your oppressed countrymen. They are ready to 
 defend themselves so far as lies in their power — pro- 
 tect their own property — to fight until death, but it 
 will be useless without your assistance, since they 
 cannot cope with the vastly superior numbers of the 
 foe, nay are robbed of almost all means of defense. 
 
 Hugo von Zedlitz clasped both hands over his brow 
 as if he could no longer trust his own brain, where 
 mad thoughts were brooding — for it was madness in 
 the German empire, emperor, princes and people to 
 let this happen, to look on with careless indifference, 
 to see the avaricious King of France rob Germany of 
 one of its best, most beautiful and important provinces 
 
 ■ .iAl.'ii'i-lW^S-'Til -fl 
 
THE CAPITULATION 489 
 
 — a great, wealthy province, a true pearl of the empire. 
 
 And not a banner, not the tiniest German flag — as 
 far as the eye could reach. 
 
 Hugo stood with both hands clasped behind his 
 back, gazing into vacancy. 
 
 Great souls in supreme moments feel a grief so 
 mighty that only great souls can understand it. 
 Hugo's heart was not bleeding only for Strassburg, but 
 for all Germany, which he saw humiliated, trampled 
 in the dust .jeered and dismembered by the arrogant foe. 
 
 Yonder — where a bridge spanned the 111 — stood the 
 village of lilkirch. It was Montclar's headquarters 
 and here Louvois was to arrive — and the fate of Strass- 
 burg be decided. 
 
 This recollection darted like a falcon on Hugo's sor- 
 rowful thoughts and tore them to picees. 
 
 Anger filled his heart and the old courage rose as if 
 on eagle's wings. 
 
 His arms fell and his hand clutched his sword-hilt: 
 he drew himself up proudly and his eyes flashed upon 
 lilkirch as if his glances could destroy the servants 
 of the crowned robber. 
 
 Hugo felt his heart still throbbing with love for 
 his native land and — he knew — thousands of citizens 
 were standing below on the walls who thought as he 
 did, who had appointed him their leader; who were 
 willing to try — cost what it might — to hold the city 
 until perhaps aid could come, or the bold robber — 
 shamed by the resistance — should withdraw. 
 
y^-^K" - ^=^^*'T*'V^'*^^^'=^ 
 
 400 A ROYAL ROBBER 1 
 
 If this did not succeed— why, it was settled among 
 them to at least save the honor of Strassburg and 
 Germany, and — defend the city to the last man. 
 
 Hugo von Zedlitz was restored to himelf and the 
 object that brought him to the cathedral. 
 
 His keen eye now calmly surveyed the wid^ expanse 
 of country, whose every tree and bush he knew. He 
 hastily estimated the strength of the enemy, noted the 
 positions and estimated the greater or lesser danger 
 that threatened each bastion of Strassburg. " 
 
 Then — with one more glance into the distance to see 
 if no aid were near, one more sad sigh — Hugo turned 
 to go, . . J 
 
 But what? Did he see right? Was God sending an 
 angel to him? In his returning agitation it seemed so, 
 for at this moment, a lovely girl, followed by an older 
 woman, appeared on the platform of the cathedral. 
 
 Hugo looked up. Oh! Heavens! It was Alma and 
 her mother. 
 
 "Alma!" cried Hugo, hurrying towards her with ex- 
 tended arms, "Alma, mother, how do you come here? 
 At this time, ^//is hour?" 
 
 "We have come to look for you!" replied the Syn- 
 dicus' daughter with a sad smile, while a momentary 
 flush crimsoned her fair face. - i 
 
 "Our anxiety and fear for my husband and you," 
 added the mother, "would not allow us to remain at 
 home— you have eaten nothing for two days and 
 nights—" 
 
 . ' .i 
 
 
THE CAPITULATION 49 1 
 
 "It is true!" said Hugo, "since that happy evening 
 when we celebrated our dear father's fecovery." 
 
 "And which was so terribly interrupted— Who 
 would have thought of it — " 
 
 "But it is of no consequence!" Hugo interrupted. 
 "Who has time to think of anything except the de- 
 fense gf the city. If only father — " 
 
 "We saw him in the cit}', " replied Alma, "lie is not 
 to be recognized; his energy has redoubled his 
 strength; he works, talks and struggles against the 
 Giinzer party like a mere youth." 
 
 "But the refreshment will do him good. He who 
 desires to struggle bravely, be it mentally or physic- 
 ally, must keep up his strength," 
 
 "That is why we hurried to find jou — " . 
 
 "And heard on the walls that you were here, noting 
 the position of the enemy — " 
 
 "And here are food and drink! " said Alma eagerly, 
 as she drew out the provisions and Hedwig took a flask 
 of wine from her pocket — -"and now eat." 
 
 "You kind souls!" exclaimed Hugo gratefully, 
 
 "Not a word, my son!" said the Syndicus' wife, "at 
 such times each person has a share of duty to perform. 
 All the brave girls and women in Strassburg are doing 
 the same as ourselves." 
 
 "Ah! then I have fresh hope!" cried Hugo joyously. 
 
 All three now sat down a moment on a stone bench, 
 while the young man hastily eat the food so unex- 
 pectedly brought. There certainly was no time to 
 
 .^'k V-^;-'-- 
 
 -'■T%iii«^SS^Sfi?ii?a,';*^>iS(6ft;ii>^v^^ 
 
492 * A ROYAL ROBBER ' .] ^^ 
 
 lose, he was already expected below; nay his presence 
 might be necessary. 
 
 Even while taking the hasty meal his thoughts were 
 busied with his brothers and companions inarms. He 
 asked whether the deputies from the guilds had returned 
 and the ammunition had been delivered; but only 
 learned that the S3mdicus was still laboring in behalf 
 of the measure, yet anxiety and dread of precipitation 
 had such power over the magistrates that they would 
 hear no reason. 
 
 Hugo hastily swallowed the last mouthful. 
 "I must go down!" he exclaimed, "I must go to the 
 magistrates, to entreat them to trust the citizens! 
 The guilds are faithful and well disposed; they are 
 ready to risk money and life 'to save the city." 
 
 "Then go where your duty calls you!" said Alma. 
 "I am proud of you and wish to continue to be so.." 
 "And 3'ou" asked Hugo in surprise. 
 "We will have our share in the sacred struggle." 
 "You? How?" 
 
 "The warder of the tower is old and feeble," said 
 Hedwig; "but his son and assistant is a young vigor- 
 ous man. Such men are now worth more than money. 
 Therefore the son shall go to take his place among the 
 defenders of the city — " 
 
 "And we!" cried Alma with eager interest, "we will 
 remain here all day and lend the old man our eyes 
 and hands. If we see aid approaching, we will wave 
 white handkerchiefs which we brought with us, but 
 
|^:'7»-.-:>i. _.•,-■,■•-: ■ .-•T5'»s^T^fj*-;;-vc-"'---i'r^ 
 
 THE CAPITULATION" 493 
 
 should we perceive any suspicious movement on the 
 part of the enemy towards the city, v.-e will sound the 
 alarm bell there by giving you a warning, the old 
 warder can then announce the direction from wliich the 
 danger is approaching by hanging the red flag out 
 towards the neighborhood concerned. " 
 
 "Admirable!" cried Hugo, "then good angels will 
 surel}' watch over us and our city. " 
 
 "But when darkness comes," Hedwig continued, 
 "we will go down and bring food to father and you. 
 I also told the maid-servant to carry to the walls every 
 noon a basket filled with meat, bread and wine to 
 strengthen those who are weak from want of food. I 
 am sure the example will be imitated and then this 
 want will be relieved." - 
 
 "Oh! Strassburg! Strassburg!" cried Hugo enthusi- 
 astically, "you are not lost while such wom.en dwell 
 within your walls." , 
 
 Then embracing Alma and her mother, he said : 
 
 "Now go down and boldly bid defiance to fate. If 
 the emperor and empire have deserted us, we will not 
 shrink back, but hold out to the last man, and defend 
 the city to our latest breath." 
 
 "May God protect her and us!" cried the mother. 
 
 But Alma threw herself into her lover's arms, 
 pressed an ardent kiss on Hugo's lips and said: 
 
 "Heaven be with you. I am yours — in life and 
 death." 
 
 Then she turned awayr-and motioned tpHugo to s"o. 
 
-J^SIfc.'-* ■ 
 
 
 494 A ROYAL ROBBER i 
 
 When Hugo reached the street, every one was in 
 motion. 
 
 He asked some one, who was hurrying by, the cause; 
 and learned that thj French Minister of War, the 
 Marquis of Louvois, had reached the headquarters at 
 Illkirch and instantl}' demanded that a deputation of 
 magistrates should be sent to him, as he had commu- 
 nications to make in the name of His Majesty, Louis 
 XIV. 
 
 The deputation was actually about to set forth for: 
 Illkirch. 
 
 Hugo hurried to the walls. His first question was 
 to ask Wenck what the magistrates had said about the 
 ammunition? 
 
 The little tailor laughed aloud in his rage, and 
 replied. 'What have they decided? That no deter- 
 mination can be made until the return of the deputa- 
 tion from Illkirch. " 
 
 "What?" cried Hugo turning pale, "not yet?" 
 
 "Patience, young hot- head, " said Wenck, while his 
 face actually turned green and yellow with anger. 
 "Patience! the ammunition will come — only that 
 scoundrel Giinzer won't deliver it to us, but the ac- 
 cursed French. Well, who knows what good it may 
 do!" ■ 
 
 Not far from Strassburg, in the open country, lie 
 the villages of Illkirch and Graffenstaden. Even at the 
 present day, in the former may be seen the ever 
 memorable building where the negotiation of 1681 was 
 
 1- ^--'M-'.: 
 
 
. _-'^«?i-'4i9„4.-r-'^ ~-^ 
 
 THE CAPITULATION 
 
 495 
 
 conducted, although now ruined and robbed of the 
 beautiful window from which Monseigneur Louvois 
 gazed at his prey wuth triumphant e\es. 
 
 A small number of horsemen were now approaching 
 the house. 
 
 It was the deputation of magistrates from Strass- 
 burg. 
 
 At their head rode a trumpeter and two heralds 
 arrayed in the colors of the city. 
 
 These were followed at a short distance by eight 
 grave pale-faced men attired in black, who rode 
 silently along and whose dignified appearance made 
 the spectators forget the skill which, in the eyes of 
 practised horsemen, they might lack in this knightly 
 art. They are the magistrates. Von Zedlitz, Domi- 
 nique Deitrich, Hecker, Froresen, Richshoffer, Stor, 
 "Frantz and Giinzer, Sieur of Plobsheim. 
 
 When the little party approached the house at 111- , 
 kirch, the guard presented arms and received them 
 with a salute. 
 
 The trumpeter blew a loud blast, the heralds — hold- 
 ing their white wands — stopped, and the magistrates 
 silently dismounted. Their features expressed the 
 utmost gravity. 
 
 Two officers had received them at the door and now 
 conducted them to a wide, spacious apartment in the 
 upper story. ..„, jr , ,, 
 
 Here they were regues.ted to wait for hisExcellencj'. 
 And in fact77-i|:,£,jy:5.s,., probably a quarter of an hour 
 
^:'X;'0;-.'; 
 
 496 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 before Monseigneur condescended to allow the sun of 
 
 his favor to rise before their eyes. i 
 
 This was an extremely painful delay — especially to 
 
 Frantz and Deitrich — and seemed prolonged to hours. 
 No one uttered a word; but ever}^ heart throbbed 
 
 lieavily; perhaps it was the iron finger of conscience, 
 
 which, in tbis^decisive hour, knocked loudly at one and 
 
 another. 
 
 ,, At last the door opened and the Marquis de Louvois 
 
 ^entered, followed b}^ General Montclar and his whole 
 ,staff. 
 , Louvois* head was covered, but on perceiving the 
 
 ,l,Q,w bows ;0f the Strassburg magistrates, he slightly 
 
 raided his hat. 
 
 _,The niinister,sat down — the negotiation began, but 
 
 it was very similar to the interview with Geueral 
 ; yio.ntcl'dTC the day before. 
 
 ,,, ,Th.e_ objections and replies of the magistrates were 
 
 also the same. Syndicus t^'rantz spoke' with the 
 . wa,rmth and eloquence peculiar to him, but Loiivois 
 .hastily cut him short. 
 ^ I, "It is well, gentlemen!" he harshly exclairned, "Spare 
 
 vour words. I did not come heris to discus's 'the 
 .. (!ue,stion;j but to perform the will of my' master "and 
 ,,:k.irig. , The city, by the treaty of Westphalia,' was 
 
 ceded to France, and the treaty of T>3rymwegen 'con- 
 . fi,ri)ied the r,igh^ of His Majesty, Louis XtV."^ "i'" 
 ,., i "Pardon me, Your Excellency! " interrupted 'Syndi- 
 
 cus Frantz with 'a courage tb'at made his' companions 
 
 
; . THE CAPITULATION 4' 7 
 
 _ tremble, "pardon me, Your Excellency, but that is ?iof 
 
 ' so. The Westphalian treaty runs as follows! ..." 
 
 Frantz drew a parchment from his pocket and read : 
 
 "France receives the consent of the empire to retain 
 
 possession of Metz, Toul, and Verdun, which she has 
 
 held since 1552 as well as the provinces of Upper and 
 
 Lower Alsace, the Sundgau, Breisach, and Hagenau, 
 
 with the exception that the bishops of Strassburg, the 
 
 city of Strassburg, and ten other free cities in Alsace, 
 
 four abbots, the Counts of Lutzelstein, Hanau, Fluken- 
 
 stein, and Oberstein, and the knights of the empire 
 
 residing there, are to retain their fealty to the German 
 
 empire. 
 
 "The treaty of Nymwegen, as Your Excellency 
 knows, made no alteration in this respect. The 
 Westphalian treaty was confirmed, and for that very 
 reason no mention is made of Strassburg." 
 Frantz was silent. 
 Louvois' eyes blazed with anger. 
 
 "Enough!" he thundered — "The Chambres de Reunions 
 have already decided — " 
 
 "Which they cannot do!" replied Frantz steadily. 
 
 "Neither the Chambres de Reunions nor His Majesty 
 
 of France have the power to interpret and explain the 
 
 "tt'^&'ty of Westphalia. To make a valid interpretation 
 
 of this treaty requires the consent of all the powers 
 
 ' th!a't' %i|ned ' \ii^- ^- • ^ " • •* I 
 
 . '''*^Doutil!le^s"thit"'ii"' your opinion, Syndicus! " ex- 
 '*tla-^fliM-L^iiY(7is^vi|th bitter scorn. "Tt is a pity that 
 
 73 Robber 
 
 i5<«;^-^iK^ ;..:;/!-; l^/tiL.-.'- 
 
''^'^^f^!^^t'i^^f?^s'^=^C^^ ■ 
 
 :,.-?Vr..'^ 
 
 4q8 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 France does not require this wise coun"sel. As I said 
 before, the Chambres de Riuniofis have decided and 
 thai settles the matter. Take notice, gentlemen," he 
 added, turning to the other deputies, "take notice that 
 General Montclar has already made known His Majes- 
 ty's views to the magistrates of Strassburg, so they 
 have had time for reflection and I require prompt 
 decision. If no assenting answer is received by seven 
 o'clock this evening, I shall pay further attention and 
 — treat the citizens of Stassburg not only as ordinary 
 enemies, but — rebels. v; 
 
 "There can be no question of consideration after the 
 capture of the city. If therefore the citizens accept 
 the proffered favor of His Most Christian Majesty, 
 Louis XIV of France, all their privileges, forth civil 
 and ecclesiastical, will be secured to them." 
 
 With these words Louvois rose and, with a scornful 
 farewell, left the room. 
 
 What excitement and despair the return of the 
 deputation occasioned throughout the city. , 
 
 Ammeister Dominique Deitrich, Syndicus Frantz 
 and Hugo von Zedlitz, had the utmost difficulty in 
 maintaining order, though aided by three sensible, far 
 sighted men. The guilds shrieked for ammunition ; 
 hundreds loudly shouted: "Down with the traitors 
 among the magistrates." 
 
 "Down with the traitors! Down with the French!" 
 
 Such were the shouts that echoed from the walls; 
 amid such outcries, throngs of people consisting of 
 
 . .-^/tjif. Ik^^^S^.-^^^ . VrLi* ^. js^bA±t^. 
 
-■ f il^Jf ^ <■ 
 
 THE CAPITULATION 499 
 
 ' ■ • . - 
 
 men, women and children, rushed though the streets 
 to the Rathhaus. 
 
 But no help came. 
 
 How often Hugo's eyes wandered to the cathedral, 
 the white flags would not wave. 
 
 Not one banner, not one little flag belonging to the 
 imperial troops appeared. 
 
 But Hugo had most difficulty in soothing Wenck. 
 
 The jovial, little tailor had become a tiger. His eyes 
 glittered like lightning. He fairly thirsted for French 
 blood, especially since from one of the towers built 
 along the wall, he had discovered a regiment of French 
 cuirassiers near the city. 
 
 "Hack them all in pieces!" he cried again and again. 
 "Who knows what good it may do." 
 
 Yet Hugo, the Syndicus and others at last succeeded 
 in restoring the city to order at this infinitely impor- 
 tant moment of her destiny. 
 
 Even the guilds — down to the one most eager for the 
 fra}', the tailor's guild, headed by Wenck — allowed 
 themselves to be persuaded to wait for the decision 
 oi the great council of three hundted. 
 
 Confidence returned with the assembling of the three 
 hundred; for all the citizens were represented in the 
 great council. What it decided must be considered 
 as the legal result of the public will. 
 
 But hour and hour passed audi— no decision was 
 reached. 
 
 Frantz and his adherents struggled to have the 
 
^mp^^'^^ffy?-^'^:^:;::^-^!^ 
 
 500 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 French demands refused and the city {defended. 
 Ammeister Deitn'ch and the timid ones saw unless the 
 city desired to plunge into ruin, but one means of 
 escape, j;hat of yielding to inevitable destiny. But 
 Giinzer in his craft, assailed the assembly in its most 
 sensitive point, the pocket, painted in vivid colors 
 the horrible consequence of the conquest and pillage 
 of the city, and calculated in terrible figures what the 
 expenses of the war would be to the community and 
 each individual. 
 
 A request was sent by a mounted messenger to Mon- 
 seigneur Louvois for an extension of the time of 
 giving the answer until noon of the following day. 
 
 Louvois granted the petition. 
 
 But the state of affairs did not change, the discussions 
 consultations, enumerations of the dangers on one 
 side and the other, questions of votes, lasted all night. 
 
 From hour to hour, news was sent to the guilds on 
 the walls regarding the state of affairs in the council. 
 Nay, the council even asked their views and opinions. 
 
 The verdict was almost unanimous for the defense 
 of the city. 
 
 Then news suddenly arrived which crushed the last 
 hope, news that all the couriers sent out by the mag- 
 istrates with despatches appealing for help had been 
 captured by the French. • 
 
 Now aid was no longer to be expected and resistance 
 became madness and folly. 
 
 The iron die of fate fell — the great majority of the 
 
THE CAPITULATION " 50I 
 
 council voted for capitulation. The tailor's guild 
 alone rejected every agreement and wanted to defend 
 themselves unto death. 
 
 Frantz and his party submitted to the decidedly ex- 
 pressed will of the people. Reason told them what 
 even love for their native city now dictated, that 
 under such circumstances onl}^ a surrender could save 
 Strassburg from total destruction. 
 
 Hugo von Zedlitz also submitted with a sigh to the 
 inevitable — he would rather have been buried under 
 the ruins of the walls. 
 
 The various articles of the act of capitulation were 
 now written and the paper, after receiving the ap- 
 proval of the magistrates and citizens, sent to the 
 Marquis de Louvois, who showed great pleasure at 
 the sight of the document. 
 
 By virtue of this capitulation the French army 
 fifteen thousand strong, occupied the city of Strass- 
 burg on the 30th of September, 1681. 
 
 The inhabitants gazed at the entering troops in 
 silence. 
 
 All remained quiet — one alone could not endure this 
 disgrace, this blow. It was Wenck. Though grind- 
 ing his teeth and clenching his hands, he controlled 
 himself for some time, but when he suddenly saw a 
 regiment of his hated enemies, the French cuirassiers^ 
 march by, he could bear it no longer. 
 
 As if pursued by the furies, Wenck hurried home, 
 snatched his gun from the wall, filled his pockets 
 
502 A ROVAL ROBBER 
 
 with powder and lead, and returned with flying feet. 
 
 "Where are the scoundrels!" he shouted, foaming 
 with rage. 
 
 "What scoundrels?" people asked in astonishment. 
 
 "Why, the French cuirassiers!" cried Wenclc, his 
 eyes flaming with anger. 
 
 "They are encamped on the Barsuserplatz. " 
 
 "Good!" said the little tailor, darting onward like 
 an arrow. 
 
 Now he reached the square, caught sight of them, 
 and with the shout : 
 
 "Down with the tyrant's slaves — long live freedom. 
 Long live Strassburg! Follow me, citizens!" two 
 shots from the double barrelled gun crashed on the air, 
 the bullets whistled by and four cuirassiers fell wounded 
 on the ground. 
 
 "Madman!" cried Hugo von Zedlitz, dragging him 
 back among the crowd. 
 
 "Madman! What can one do against a crowd; away 
 from here and save yourself!" 
 
 "One?" cried Wenck with burning brain. "If they 
 had all thought as I do, our dear, beautiful Strassburg 
 would still be free, gut I've shot four of the dogs. 
 God grant that they may be dead! Who knows what 
 good it may do !" 
 
 "Away!" cried Hugo, who saw a party of cuirassiers 
 rushing forward. "Away," and he drsrgged Wenck off 
 by force. In a few bounds they reached the corner of 
 the street, but the pursuers had seen them, several 
 
 '^:^ *Jd::T»^-^\-rt2!s3^^:^'~^jL4^i-'^fei^t£ .2^^ 
 
=rT= 
 
 th£ capitulation 
 
 503 
 
 bullets hissed through the air and Wenck lay dead on 
 the ground. A French bullet had pierced his heart. 
 
 aa i hffi-^ fe^^-i^ 
 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 DREAMS AND ILLUSIONS. 
 
 So Strassburg was in the hands of the French. .. 
 
 On the following da}', the first of October, the 
 council of three hundred assembled and the capitula- 
 tion was read. As it secured all their privileges and 
 the exercise of the Protestant religion, they expressed 
 themselves satisfied. The city authorities were occu- 
 pied several days in arranging quarters for the troops. 
 In the letter, in which Louvois announced to his king 
 with joyful satisfaction the capitulation of Strassbufg, 
 he requested a speedy ratification, as he was in haste 
 to take possession of the fortifications between the 
 city and the Rhine. On the morning of October ist 
 he ordered engineers to draw plans, that Vauban, who 
 was to arrive the next day, might be able to carry his 
 projected fortification into execution as soon as pos- 
 sible. On the 4th of October Vauban commenced his 
 task; to the works already in existence, which he 
 found in the best condition, he added the citadel, not 
 only to make the place unassailable, but also to hold 
 the inhabitants in check; besides at this time a canal 
 was dug to procure building materials. 
 
 Paris exulted. The king and his whole court left 
 
 SU4 
 
 •■r'^: ■ 4l::'.'.^C\.-> :.$!*Rl:.ij^el^±MSKl&-.. 
 
wy^ ■* -"^a^piss^wp^^^^^ 
 
 . ' - DREAMS AND ILLUSIONS 505 
 
 the capital to go to Strassburg and receive the homage 
 of his new subjects. 
 
 But sad thoughts were filling the heart of Louis 
 XIV. Fierce storms had passed over him of late, and 
 dark shadows rising from another quarter clouded his 
 joy at the fall of Strassburg. 
 
 It was just after the return from Colmar that the 
 Duchesse de Fontanges — who was now, at least accord- 
 ing to appearances, at the summit of power — received 
 through her maid news which produced a deep impres- 
 sion upon her. 
 
 Since Gauthier*s arrest in her room and imprison- 
 ment in the Bastile, it had been impossible for her to 
 gain the smallest information about the fate of the 
 unfortunate companion of her childhood. 
 
 Only once she had ventured to implore the king's 
 pardon for him, but this once had sufficed. The out- 
 burst of anger from her royal lover forever sealed her 
 lips. 
 
 But there was no depth or energy In Marie Ange- 
 line's character. Her innate vanity and love of 
 splendor smothered all deeper feelings and, in the 
 constant intoxication of pleasure that surrounded her, 
 she only too easily forgot everything serious in life, 
 everything that affected her unpleasantl}^ 
 
 The memorj' of the scene in her sleeping room, 
 however, as well as that of Gauthier, haunted her like 
 ghosts. 
 
 The Bastile was In the habit of keeping silence in 
 
506 A ROVAL ROBBER 'j 
 
 regard to everything that passed within its walls. It 
 was a gigantic grave to all those whose unhappy fate 
 led them to it. It stood like a terrible secret in the 
 midst of gay, thoughtless Paris, the gloomy building 
 with its moats, bastions and eight huge towers— in 
 which so many were buried alive forever. 
 
 But money and influence can make even the thickest 
 walls speak, and there was some one in France who 
 was interested in Gauthier's fate. Angeline's former 
 relations to this young man and the story of his en- 
 counter with the king in her apartment formed the 
 vulnerable point in the armor of the haughty Duchesse 
 de Fontanges. 
 
 This was the spot where she might be mortally 
 wounded, she and — the king. 
 
 Was it not always possible to ruin the hated beauty 
 by this story? 
 
 Who could tell? 
 
 There was one who bitterly hated the haughty Ange- 
 line, desired nothing more ardently than her fall, one 
 who had made the fall of the Duchesse de Fontanges, 
 whose elevation had been the cause of her own ruin, 
 the one task of her life. And this person was — the 
 Marquise de Montespan. 
 
 The court of Louis XIV was the school of love and 
 hate. The marquise had not passed through this school 
 in vain; nor had she sighed her time av/ay in torturing 
 loneliness during her exile at Tonnay-Charante. She 
 had secretly come to Paris long ago, in order to watch 
 
 r 
 
DREAMS AND ILLUSIONS 507 
 
 the course of affairs in which she was interested. And 
 indeed she — who had herself woven so many court 
 intrigues — possessed an eagle eye in such matters. - But 
 she also possessed something peculiar to those da3'S 
 — superstition, and this weakness led her to the 
 famous fortune-teller, La Voisin. 
 
 She must learn through this woman the future fate 
 of her hated and now victorious rival. 
 
 "The rule of the Duchesse de Fontanges will be 
 short," replied the mysterious cards, "but only the hand 
 that raised can ruin her." 
 
 The marquise secretly exulted. 
 
 The answer was certainly mysterious. Who had 
 raised this little Duchesse de Fontanges? Undoubt- 
 edly she, the marquise; yet one might also say the 
 king, the Due de Saint Aignan had a share, and 
 Gauthier too, who had been used as a means. 
 
 How was the affair to be commenced? 
 
 The marquise's cunning aided her to a master-piece 
 in the art of intrigue. She said to herself : La Voisin' s 
 prediction must prove true if I use the four hands that 
 combined to raise the Duchesse de Fontanges — to ruin 
 her. 
 
 Darkness and silence concealed the Marquise de 
 Montespan's farther negotiations with La Voisin. In 
 the first place her money opened the lips of the 
 Bastile. She learned precisely how Gauthier fared, and 
 as the Duchesse de Fontanges' maid was secretly em- 
 ployed by the Marquise de Montespan, the haughty 
 
 ■^C^'Gs.jpr:,. .«*?t.*ft,....-^. .'^.'^ *,..*-*^'-. . 
 
.508 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 Angelme — at a hint from the former — learned the news 
 which we have said, deeply moved her. 
 
 It was the tidings that Gauthier lived, but was con- 
 demned to death. The sentence would be executed 
 in a few days. 
 
 This blow fell upon Angeline with too crushing a 
 weight not to rouse her from her frivolity. Her heart 
 was neither bad nor unfeeling, only, like her whole 
 nature, it lacked depth. , 
 
 Condemned to death? They are terrible words, 
 especially when conscience says that we are to blame 
 for the horrible sentence. 
 
 Startled from the giddy whirl of pleasure, the de- 
 lirium of luxury and splendor, this news almost 
 crushed her to the earth. 
 
 In her excited imagination she already saw the terri- 
 ble deed done. 
 
 Angeline was frantic with grief. Pain, sorrow, and 
 the pangs of conscience had hitherto had little place 
 in the book of her life. The former fate had spared 
 her, the latter she had spared herself. But — this time 
 her conscience was no courtier: it did not bend, was 
 not silent, but cried loudly: "You are his murderess!" 
 
 In vain the proud, beautiful duchesse strove to re- 
 call her former frivolity — it was useless. 
 
 Vainly, in her anguish and despair, she strove to 
 plunge into a still madder whirl of pleasure and ex- 
 citement — it was useless. The pallid ghost of Loches 
 again rose before her soul. 
 
 p-.<I;?jw-:-vV** .■«.-».it/;:^"..ift5S!^ ■-:■*; 
 
 J 
 
, •" DREAMS AND ILLUSIONS $og 
 
 Angeline would gladly have implored Gauthier's for- 
 giveness on her knees, and yet — so weak was her 
 character — that she did not venture to appeal to the 
 king. The fear of her royal lover's anger, the dread 
 of imperiling her position again, won the victory over 
 the better and nobler emotions of her heart. 
 
 Her maid now gave a fresh proof of her kind feeling 
 towards the young duchesse. She listened affection- 
 ately, tenderly endeavored to console Angeline, and 
 suggested a plan to save the unfortunate prisoner. 
 
 "Money," she said, "money can do anything in the 
 world. •' 
 
 "I will joyfully pay the price of a principality," cried 
 Angeline, "if I can save him. I will scatter money, 
 jewels, only help me rescue him from death." 
 
 "And would you have courage to visit him in secret?" 
 
 "It would be my most ardent desire to beseech him 
 on my knees to forgive the wrong I have done him; 
 but the king—" 
 
 "He will know nothing about it." 
 
 "And the Bastlle?" 
 
 "Will open to you In the quiet night. You have 
 the key in your own hands." 
 
 "I?" 
 
 "Your gold." 
 
 "Take it, take all you need." 
 
 "It will be I great deal." 
 
 "No matter. His Majesty's kindness to me is inex- 
 haustible. But through whom? " 
 
 A.^.*.Aei.^J.^.. . 
 
'i^'-^'j" "•"'=>*' V'T""'^ 
 
 510 A ROYAL ROBBER " i -" - • 
 
 "Through the Due de Saint Aignan. " | 
 
 "Through the Due de Saint Aignan. No, that won't 
 do. He hates Gauthier. " 
 
 "But he loves — you, and therefore will do all in his 
 power for you if we ask him." 
 
 "It is too dangerous." 
 
 'Let me arrange the matter. The due has nothing 
 to fear from the prisoner." 
 
 "No," said Angeline with a sorrowful smile, "and 
 Saint Aignan is certainly my best and most reliable 
 friend." 
 
 "Then consent, Madame la Duehesse, and trust me, 
 as you have so often done." 
 
 "As if you did not possess my entire eonfidence. I 
 think I have given you plenty of proofs of it." 
 
 "For whieh I shall be eternally grateful," said the 
 maid, kissing her mistress' hand — "so it is settled?" 
 
 "Yes," replied the Duchess de Fontanges, "but I 
 entreat 3'ou to use the utmost caution. The king must 
 not on any account have the slightest suspicion of it." 
 
 "He lives only for politics just now. Rely upon 
 me, Madame la Duehesse." 
 
 The second night after this exciting day, an ordinary 
 hired carriage stopped in one of the little streets of 
 Paris not far from the royal palace. 
 
 A man in citizen's dress sat within. It was Saint 
 Aignan. 
 
 He sat resting his head on his hand and his elbow 
 ;on his knee, absorbed in thought. , 
 
: :. ^ DREAMS AND ILLUSIONS 51I 
 
 Saint Aignan paused a moment. 
 
 He seemed to be listening for something; but all 
 was still. 
 
 The narrow, dark little street where his carriage 
 stood was deserted. 
 
 The due sank back on the cushions. 
 
 "Yes," he continued. "The little Duchesse de Fon- 
 tanges will form no exception to her predecessors, she 
 will fare like the beautiful brilliant days of the tropic 
 zone — sunlight and brightness will be suddenl)' fol- 
 lowed by the gloom of night. It is a pity about her. 
 She's confoundedly handsome and — though otherwise 
 cold as marble — a volcano in love. 
 
 "But the ground is undermined — the king is begin- 
 ning to grow weary of her. Beauty without intellect 
 or wit can bind no one long, f-ar less such a spoiled 
 child as Louis XIV. Such a palate requires spicy 
 food. Devil take me if my keen nose isn't on the 
 right scent, if — if — His Most Christian Majesty hasn't 
 for sometime cast an eye on the clever and virtuous 
 governess of his children, the Due de Maine and Comte 
 de Toulouse. The worthy widow Scarrous seems very 
 devout, to be sure, but — that is something new and pi- 
 quant, let us try piety awhile. His Majesty, out of 
 gratitude, has bestowed upon her the beautiful estate 
 of Maintenon, made her a marquise too. I really be- 
 lieve this new Marquise de Maintenon will soon be 
 Madame de Maintenant. " 
 
 The due sat up and then exclaimed in an undertone; 
 
 '-J^&^^r:Si:2.l■^J»^S9Sii^*^'■■AVi'.-^■.-i^^fcC■*^^^^ .*'■-._ 
 
512. , A ROYAL ROBBER . ' , ; ,;. . 
 
 "Watch" the wind has changed — he is a fool who 
 tries to steer against it. And, faith, Saint Aignan will 
 never deserve that title. - ; 
 
 "This little Duchesse de Fontanges has of ten by her 'j 
 boundless pride insulted me, as well as the queen and v: 
 all the nobility — let us play for revenge and so that 
 we shall win the game. The short-sighted creature- 
 deluded by my apparent love and submission, gives 
 herself into my hands. Poor thing — " and the due ,, 
 laughed lightly — "your sentimentality puts the rope 
 around your own neck." 
 
 At this moment the clock struck ten. 
 
 "Ten," said the due — "now she will be here directly : 
 and — my letter will be placed in the king's hands." 
 
 Saint Aignan was silent and alighting from the 
 carriage, went to the corner of the street to watch. 
 
 A few minutes after, two muffled female figures 
 approached. They were the Duchesse de Fontanges 
 and her maid. 
 
 Both entered the carriage, followed by the due, then ' 
 at a sign, the vehicle proceeded to the Bastile. 
 
 A cold shiver ran through Angeline's frame as she ;■ 
 entered the gloomy walls of this terrible prison, over 
 which already centuries, with their storms, sighs, and ^ 
 crimes, had passed. ,, 
 
 The fate of the builder of the Bastile must be con- 
 sidered a dark omen of the deeds of horror which the -C 
 tyranny of the rulers of France caused to be executed 
 
DREAMS AND TLLUSTOKS 513 
 
 here for centuries. It was Hugo Aubriot, Intendant of 
 the finances at the French court, who — at the king's 
 command — erected the Bastile, and afterwards, on the 
 charge of being a heretic, breathed out his life there, 
 the first prisoner within its walls. 
 
 Angeline drew her cloak closer around her, and in- 
 voluntarily pressed her hand upon her heart, to feel 
 whether it was still beating. 
 
 Such terrible dread suddenly took possession of her, 
 that if it had been possible to return, she would have 
 done so. 
 
 They were standing before a door heavily bound with 
 iron and closed by three huge locks. It was the door 
 of Gauthier's prison. 
 
 The Duchesse de Fontanges pressed a purse full of 
 gold into the warder's hand, but her own trembled so 
 violently that the money almost slipped from her 
 grasp. 
 
 The jailer took the bunch of keys from his side. 
 The locks were opened — three bolts creaked — the door 
 swung back. 
 
 Darkness and silence pervaded the damp, narrow 
 apartment. 
 
 The atmosphere that met the young duchesse almost 
 stifled her. Her senses failed, an icy weight oppressed 
 her heart— she was on the verge of fainting. Fortu- 
 nately at that moment Saint Aignan offered her his 
 arm, her foot sought the threshold, the jailer led the 
 way with a lamp. 
 ^j Robber 
 

 514 . A ROYAL ROBBER ', ^ 
 
 , The feeble light of the lamp, which the jailer held 
 aloft to give its faint rays more space, flickered un- 
 steadily in the dark room, and dimly illuminated the 
 damp, gloomy walls. 
 
 It was some seconds ere Angeline's and Saint Aign- 
 an's eyes could penetrate the dusk. 
 
 "He's asleep," said the jailer, and with these words 
 he pointed towards a corner of the dungeon. 
 
 The duchesse approached; but a sudden horror 
 seized upon her as she saw a human form, emaciated 
 almost to a skeleton, lying on a heap of mouldy straw. 
 
 With a terrible pang in her heart, she involuntarily 
 put out both hands and retreated. 
 
 Horror and repugnance suddenly took possession of 
 the spoiled child of fortune. Her whole nervous sys- 
 tem trembled. She deeply repented the step she had 
 taken. 
 
 Nothing escaped Saint Aignan's keen eyes. 
 
 He too trembled, but from other motives. 
 
 If the duchesse withdrew too soon, his game might 
 be lost. Hastily forming his resolution, he approached 
 Angeline and whispered: 
 
 "Don't you wish to speak to the unfortunate man?" 
 
 A flush of shame crimsoned the lady's pale face. 
 The presence of the due, by whose secret mediation 
 she had taken a step so dangerous to him and herself, 
 urged her onward. 
 
 But her terror was not yet conquered — and pointing 
 to the motionless form, she asked with trembling lips: . 
 
-. ' • DREAMS AND ILLUSIONS 515 
 
 "And this is — Gauthier de Montferrand?" 
 
 "Yes," said the jailer in a curt cold tone. 
 
 "Then — wake him," said Angeline de Fontanges, 
 "and — leave us — alone a moment." v" 
 
 The jailer, who had already been bribed; and had 
 himself made all the necessary preparations for 
 Gauthier's flight, put the lamp on a stone table and 
 attempted to obey the command. 
 
 "Wake!" he cried rudely, "wake, somebody wants to 
 speak to you!" 
 
 And he shook the motionless form. 
 
 But at the same moment he stopped, laid his hand 
 on the man's brow, clasped his wrist, looked into his 
 face and at last said, quietly, turning away: 
 
 "He'll never wake again — he's dead." 
 
 A piercing shriek escaped Angeline's lips. 
 
 "He's dead!" she repeated and her senses failed. 
 ' Tottering, she clung to St. Aignan for support., 
 
 "Dead!" repeated the jailer, secretly rejoicing that 
 he had earned so much money without being compelled 
 to aid the fugitive's escape. 
 
 "Too late!" groaned the duchesse, while her hands 
 fell feebly by her side as if she had heard her death 
 sentence. 
 
 She stood silently with closed eyes in the presence 
 cf fate, like a criminal." 
 
 "Galm yourself!" said Saint Aignan, "perhaps it is. 
 better so." 
 
 But these words suddenly opened Angeline's whole 
 
 ':9r ■v.-j^i ■-f^:-:. 
 
5l6 A ROYAL ROBBER j 
 
 i 
 
 heart; a terrible anguish, the sense of infinite remorse 
 overwhelmed her, and — covering her face with lier 
 hands — tears gushed from her eyes. i 
 
 "Oh! God! oh, God! so I am really his murderess!" 
 she exclaimed. And utterly forgetting herself, she 
 sank down beside Gauthier's corpse, seized his cold, 
 rigid hand and pressed it to her heart. 
 
 The fierce surges of sorrow had washed from her 
 
 -^soul everything that had occurred since her departure 
 
 from Limagne. Only the memories of her childhood 
 
 remained, but— all these memories pierced her heart 
 
 like daggers. 
 
 She saw herself at home; she saw her dear faithful 
 mother, the good Pere Helaire; she saw by her side 
 Gauthier, the loyal playmate who had loved her so 
 truly, seen everything with her eyes, she saw the fair 
 days which she had spent so happily in her innocent 
 childhood — and now? 
 
 With the most caressing words she implored Gau- 
 thier to wake. She shook him, she shrieked to God 
 to recall the unfortunate man to life. 
 
 Then she again sank down beside the cold, lifeless 
 corpse and in the most pathetic words implored the 
 dead man's pardon for all the misery, all the suffering, 
 all the horrors she had caused him. 
 
 "Oh! forgive me, forgive me, Gauthier! Forgive 
 your murderess!" she cried in heart-rending tones — 
 "forgive her for sacrificing your beautiful young life, 
 sacrificing it thus! Oh! hear me, Gauthier, hear me! 
 
' r - 
 
 DREAMS AND ILLUSIONS 517 
 
 open your eyes once more to see my repentance. 
 
 "Gauthier! Merciful God!. He is dead! dead! he 
 no longer hears' or sees his Angeline, he no longer 
 sees her writhing in the dust to implore his forgive- 
 ness for having broken his kind, faithful heart! 
 
 "Yes, 7 have broken it! It was/ who crushed your 
 beautiful life, and — I cannot restore it to you." 
 
 Suddenly, close beside her, there was a cry of: "The 
 king!" — and with the words the gloom}' room grew 
 bright as day. *- 
 
 The duchesse shrank as if a thunderbolt had fallen. 
 She could not regain her self-command. 
 
 What was the king doing here? What, whom did 
 he seek? 
 
 The king! It required the exertion of all her mental 
 powers to recall herself to reality. 
 
 But — to be found thus! She uttered a cry of terror. 
 
 Louis XIV stood at the entrance with a grave, stern 
 face, at his side, a little in the rear, were four torch- 
 bearers, and still farther back, strangely enough, 
 several nuns. 
 
 "You here, madame?" said the king with icy, terrible 
 coldness, "we did not expect to find you here." 
 
 "Your Majesty!" replied the Duchesse de Fontanges, 
 in a voice trembling with grief. "Your Majesty sees 
 that I am with the dead." 
 
 "And I once found the living man with you." 
 
 "I came here to bid farewell to a dj'ing playmate — 
 a dear relative. " 
 
5l8 A ROYAL ROBBER - | 
 
 "A dying man, but one who — if he had not died— 
 would no longer be here! However, we will let that 
 pass, madame! I honor and respect this grief, this 
 truly Christian devotion to another's fate — " 
 
 "Sire!" 
 
 "And that you may see, madame, that I am not 
 wicked enough to interfere with your natural sorrow, 
 your pious mood, or efface this deep and sacred im- 
 , pression, I have requested the holy Abbess of the con- 
 vent of Port Royal, in the suburb of Saint Jacques, 
 to take you under her protection. 
 
 And the king, turning to the sisters, added: "Do 
 your duty, Abbess," and preceded by the torch- 
 bearers and followed by Saint Aignan, left the dungeon. 
 
 The duchesse uttered a piercing shriek and sank 
 fainting into the arms of the nuns. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A WITHERED ROSE. 
 
 A death-like stillness brooded over the convent of 
 Port Royal in the suburb of Saint Jacques. It was 
 the abode of "penitents," and many a repentant heart 
 indeed looked back from here into the darkness, shud- 
 dered and — bled in secret. 
 
 A death-like stillness and the peace of a church-yard 
 pervaded the spot. 
 
 And was not this convent of Port Royal indeed a 
 church-yard? Only the grave-stones wandered about 
 as still, pale, shadowy forms, garbed in the robes of 
 nuns. But beneath each of these moving grave-stones 
 was a heart that had burnt out into dust and ashes. 
 
 The cells of the convent of Port Royal were graves 
 —only one apartment in the spacious building formed 
 a strange contrast to the terrible simplicity and 
 poverty of the other rooms. 
 
 This was a large chamber, whose high, narrow win- 
 dows opened upon the inner court-yard. 
 
 The floors of the cells were composed of hard, cold 
 
 stones, and those who trod them had bare feet, for 
 
 they were "penitents." 
 
 The floor of this apartment was covered with a soft, 
 
 519 
 
^ ■^~ ^v 
 
 ^O , A ROYAL ROBBER | 
 
 rich carpet, such as had probably never been seen liv 
 any convent before. 
 
 The cells of the convent of Port Royal contained 
 wooden beds, which were often strewn with thorns and 
 thistles, for those who used them were "penitents." 
 
 In the room just mentioned was a costly couch, 
 richly adorned with silk and lace. 
 
 Throughout the spacious convent earthen vessels 
 were used for food and drink. The occupant of this 
 chamber was served in silver dishes. 
 
 The walls of the cells were bare; embroidered hang 
 ings covered those of the room. 
 
 In a word, it was richly furnished, and three times 
 a week the Due de la Feuillade drove up to visit the 
 occupant, and in the name of His Majesty, the King, 
 inquire for her health. 
 
 But indeed her state of health was bad enough. 
 
 A pale, emaciated figure lay on the superb couch 
 in the magnificently furnished chamber. It was Marie 
 Angeline, once Mademoiselle de Fontanges, afterwards 
 the all-powerful duchesse, radiant in beauty, power 
 and splendor, the object of the devotion of His Maj- 
 esty, Louis XIV, King of France. 
 
 But where was the beauty of the poor child, who 
 had not yet reached her twentieth year? 
 
 What had become of the color in her cheeks, the 
 freshness of her complexion, the roundness of her 
 limbs? 
 
 Was this pale, drooping figure, with the haggard 
 
A WITHERED ROSE 521 
 
 cheeks and dim eyes red with weeping the haughty 
 duchesse, who but a short time before had ruled the 
 heart of the King of France and with it his whole 
 court, who had passed the queen without a salutation 
 before whom bowed dukes and duchesses, princes and 
 princesses, for whose favor the whole court, the highest 
 nobility, vied with each other? 
 
 How crushed, how broken she la}^ — this early 
 withered rose! 
 
 "How incredibly rapid had been her decline. But a 
 fortnight before, the abbess, accompanied b}' two 
 sisters had brought her senseless to the convent one 
 dark night — attended only by a single maid. 
 
 The ver}' first night her maid had given the duch- 
 esse, who was passing from one fainting fit to another, 
 a brown liquid, which really revived her and threw 
 her into a sleep that lasted nearly twenty-four hours. 
 
 But on awakening from the sleep Angeline's features 
 were strangely altered. Her usually dazzlingly fair 
 Complexion had assumed a sickly \'ellow hue. Her 
 nerves were so relaxed, her mental powers so en- 
 feebled, her mind so stupefied, that she spent whole 
 days without tears, gazing rigidly into vacanc}^ as if 
 her thoughts were far away. Her arms hung loosel)^ b}- 
 her side, her feet seemed paralyzed, dizziness bewild- 
 ered her, the pupils of her eyes were contracted to an 
 almost invisible size, and her pulse was nearl)- imper- 
 ceptible. 
 
 She did not utter a word. Her silence seemed the 
 
522 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 echo of the death-like stillness that pervaded the whole 
 convent of "penitents." 
 
 This condition, however, was soon followed by other 
 alarming symptoms: terrible headaches, rapid emacia- 
 tion, and loss of physical and mental power. 
 
 The maid no longer left her mistress bed-side. She 
 took so warm an interest in her that she even coun- 
 selled her not to summon a physician, since in these 
 evil, corrupt days nobod}' was to be trusted, especially 
 by those who had powerful enemies. 
 
 But the illness daily increased, she grew weaker and 
 weaker, and soon felt — that she was dying. '. 
 
 And strangely enough, with this conviction, her 
 mind grew calmer, especially in regard to Gauthier. 
 
 "I shall atone for the sin I have committed against 
 him by my own death!" she thought. 
 
 But the misfortune that had so suddenly overtaken 
 her, also tore the bandage from her eyes. 
 
 Her fall was terrible, and when she now found her- 
 self lying crushed in the abyss — buried alive in the 
 gloom and solitude of a convent — the dream she had 
 once had in Limagne, and which the good Pere Hiliare 
 had interpreted as a warning sent by God, returned to 
 her memory. 
 
 Her tears streamed forth again, but — this time they 
 were precious pearls, for they flowed from sincere 
 repentance for her former life. 
 
 Oh! Thou Merciful God! A last ray of sunlight 
 illumined the darkness of her soul — Pere Hilaire stood 
 by her bedside. 
 
A WITHERED ROSE 523 
 
 He had followed the course of her life and remained 
 near her, because he knew how it must end. Be- 
 sides, Gauthier's fate had detaind him in Paris. But 
 what could the poor old priest do for the unfortunate 
 man? \ 
 
 To kneel before the king and implore pardon for Gau- 
 thier would have instantly placed him also in the Bas- 
 tile. Yet Pere Hilaire was not intimidated, he tried in 
 every possible way to alleviate Gauthier's fate, but in 
 vain. The king's anger had spoken, and this was the 
 sentence of inexorable Minos. - 
 
 Angeline's last visit to Gauthier, of which he heard, 
 as well as the poor girl's fate, had reconciled him to 
 his long blinded pupil. 
 
 He requested the favor of giving his former charge 
 the last consolations of the church — and it was granted. 
 
 Louis XIV, the "great" king, was now very com- 
 plaisant — he felt infinitely relieved, that the rose 
 chains which had bound him to the Duchesse de 
 Fontanges had been so easily stripped off, and — had 
 another conquest in view, that of the clever Marquise de 
 Maintenon. 
 
 Angeline — feeling the approach of death — had thrice 
 besought the king, as a last favor, to let her, who had 
 loved him so fondly, so unutterably, see his dear face 
 once more. 
 
 But the king would not listen. Even the thought 
 of being obliged to visit a dying person was extremely 
 painful and unpleasant to him, and Louis XIV did not 
 
 ..£i^^ 
 
524 A ROYAL ROBBER / i - 
 
 like to meet with anything unpleasant in his life. 
 
 He did not come. 
 -Then Angeline sent the fourth time. , 
 
 This time also the monarch refused; but his con- 
 fessor — doubtless in the hope that the sight of the 
 dying girl would have a good influence upon the mind 
 of the too worldly monarch — at last induced him to 
 pay the visit. 
 
 Louis XIV had therefore promised to come to the 
 convent of Port Royal that morning. 
 
 A death-like stillness pervaded the convent of the 
 penitents, and a death-like stillness also brooded over 
 the room occupied by the dying girl. 
 
 Angeline, amid burning tears of deep, heartfelt re- 
 pentance, had made her confession to Pere Hilaire 
 and received absolution. 
 
 The priest had prayed fervently with her — no Latin, 
 no church prayers, but such as were prompted by his 
 fatherly love for his erring daughter. 
 
 Angeline was lying silent — the mental exertion had 
 exhausted her last strength but a peaceful smile flitted 
 over her features, the reflection of the peace that had 
 filled her soul during the last hour. , 
 
 Only Pere Hilaire was present, and he was praying 
 silently over his breviary. 
 
 The maid was standing In the corridor, awaiting His 
 Majesty's arrival with a throbbing heart. One could 
 not say that peace pervaded her soul. Half an hour 
 before she had concealed with almost anxious haste a 
 
A WITHERED ROSE : 5^5 
 
 silver goblet, from which she often gave the invalid 
 something to drink. 
 
 She was agitated, very much agitated and — excite- 
 ment also pervaded the usually quiet convent — all 
 were expecting the visit of His Majesty, the King. 
 
 At last he appeared. Like his suite, he was attired 
 in mourning. 
 
 There was something majestic in his grave, dignified 
 bearing, and majesty was also enthroned upon the 
 handsome face. 
 
 His head, as usual, was covered with a huge peruke, 
 but not — and this was verj^ significant — ^b}^ the broad 
 brimmed hat with three floating white plumes. 
 
 Louis XIV removed it as he approached the dying 
 girl. 
 
 His train had of course entered with bared heads. 
 
 Only one of the king's constant attendants was 
 absent — the Due de Saint Aignan. He had begged to 
 be excused on the plea of sudden illness. 
 
 The king gently approached; but when he saw the 
 face, which but a short time before he had so passion- 
 ately loved, which had bloomed before him in health 
 and beauty so radiant that it seemed as if they could 
 never fade, he turned pale. 
 
 The change in Angeline's features was so great, that 
 it was difficult for Louis to recognize the former object 
 of his love. Her pallor, her haggard cheeks, her sad, 
 dim eyes, which still beamed with love, moved him 
 so powerfully, that — tears filled his own. 
 
526 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 Then an indescribably gentle, angelic smile flitted 
 over the features of the dying girl and, making a great 
 effort to raise herself, she said, extending her little 
 emaciated hand to the king: 1 
 
 "Oh! now I can die content, since my last moments 
 have seen the tears of my king." 
 
 "Don't talk so, Madame la Duchesse, " replied the 
 king, in a low, tremulous tone, "you will not die, and 
 when you are well again — " 
 
 "Not so, Sire," murmured Angeline, "I already feel 
 death's cold breath. But just because I know — that I 
 shall not survive this day — I earnestly entreated Your 
 Majesty — for the favor — " 
 
 "Don't tax your strength!" 
 
 "Of a visit." 
 
 "Which was willingly granted." 
 
 The dying girl cast a long affectionate glance at the 
 king. 
 
 "Sire!" she said, "I have loved Your Majesty — in- 
 finitely — and — Gauthier de Montferrand — I swear in 
 this solemn hour before the omniscient God — was 
 only my friend — my relative — the playmate of my 
 childhood." 
 
 "Let this pass," said Louis with a somewhat clouded 
 brow. "God himself has decided. Peace to his ashes!" 
 
 "And — Sire — if I have ever angered — offended — " 
 
 "What folly, Madame la Duchesse! We are all 
 human, and have our passions. Ask any favor, and 
 we will show you how highly we still prize you/* 
 
 i 
 
A WITHERED ROSE ?■■ 52/ 
 
 Tears filled Angeline's eyes. A heavy sigh escaped 
 her lips, then she said: 
 
 "For myself — I have but one favor to implore and — • 
 that is — the mercy — of God. But will Your Majesty 
 remember my old mother— Pare Hilaire — and — my 
 good Barbezieux — " she looked at the maid, who was 
 supporting her on the pillows. 
 
 "We will!" said the king in a firm, grave tone. 
 
 Su(ddenly death approached and threw his dark veil 
 over the dying girl's eyes. She moaned — her fingers 
 plucked strangely at the silk coverlid. 
 
 "Then I shall die in peace," faltered Angeline, as 
 her head fell gently back. 
 
 "We will go!" said the king, "this excitement is too 
 much for the poor girl," and making the sign of the 
 cross over the dying form, he turned and left the room 
 with his train.^ 
 
 Again a death-like silence prevailed. Earthly 
 \i majesty had left the room — the majesty of death had 
 entered. 
 
 Pere Hilaire murmured in an undertone the Latin 
 prayers prescribed by the church. 
 
 Angeline's eyes grew fixed and glassy. Her fingers 
 u;; still played with the coverlid. 
 
 'y-' "Gauthier!" she murmured faintly, "Gauthier — don't 
 
 ? hurry — me — so — I'm — coming— oh! — the mountain — 
 
 the cloud — woe, woe, betide me! It is growing dark." 
 
 "Not yet!" said the old priest., no longer able to 
 restrain his tears, bending over Angeline, "God is 
 
528 A ROYAL ROBBER i ' 
 
 gracious and merciful! God is love, and love is light 
 and happiness!" 
 
 "Love!" said the dying girl almost Inaudibly, "yes — 
 love — is light — and happiness." 
 
 "Amen!" said the priest. 
 
 "Amen! " whispered Angeline. 
 
 Then the faint notes of an organ echoed through 
 the air, followed by a soft, yet melancholy chant. 
 
 The nuns were imploring God to grant the dying 
 girl an easy passage to eternity. 
 
 And her death was easy. He kissed Angeline on the 
 brow — a loud moan — a convulsive quiver then — a 
 stretching of the limbs, and Marie Angeline, Duchesse 
 de Fontanges — was no more! 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE RULE OF NEMESIS. - 
 
 / 
 
 All Paris was in a state of feverish excitement; but 
 not about the death of the charming young Duchesse 
 de Fontanges; the latter had speedily been forgotten 
 at court, while the people actually rejoiced over the 
 ruin of one whose pride, vanity, and love of pleasure 
 had lured the king to the most unprecedented ex- 
 penses. 
 
 Besides the nation was accustomed to the rise and 
 fall of the objects of the king's love, and the Parisians 
 with true French frivolity, laughingly asked each 
 other: "Well, who will take the helm now?" 
 
 Angeline de Fontanges had bloomed and charmed 
 the eye for a few spring days, like a beautiful fragrant 
 rose, and then, overtaken by a sudden storm, quickly 
 withered. The rush of new events effaced her memory, 
 as the storms of nature blow rose leaves away. 
 
 Her pride and vanity had made her think only of 
 herself; why should others now think of her? 
 
 Besides the news of more important things, which 
 
 nearly concerned the court and a large number of the 
 
 citizens of Paris, had arrived at the same time as the 
 
 tidings of the duchesse's death — things which made 
 
 34 539 
 
53© \, A ROYAL ROBBER i 
 
 the worthy Parisian's hair stand on end, and filled them 
 with that thrill of pleasurable horror, which the dis- 
 covery of a great crime exerts upon the majority of 
 mankind. 
 
 All Paris — as has already been mentioned — was in a 
 state of feverish excitement, for as the cases of secret 
 poisoning had lately reached a truly alarming number, 
 a court for the discovery of such crimes — the Chambre 
 arden/e— had not only been appoin|:ed by the king 
 himself — but had actually detected and arrested the 
 prepetrator in the person of La Voisin, the fortune- 
 teller, and her confederates. 
 
 What noble names were compromised; what victims 
 had succumbed to this band of criminals, to whom 
 belonged La Voisin's assistant Vigoureaux, and — the 
 world heard it with horror — the priests, Lesage 'and 
 d*Auvaux. 
 
 The most horrible things were whispered abroad; but 
 — the Chambre ardente remained silent, like the terri- 
 ble subterranean chambers of torture. Yet it was 
 ascertained that several persons belonging to the 
 court had been brought before the tribunal, among 
 them the Duchesse de Bouillon and Marshal de Luxem- 
 bourg. 
 
 Something was also said to have been discovered in 
 regard to the Marquise de Montespan, and the names 
 of Saint Aignan and his relative, the Cardinal, v/ere 
 mixed into the affair. The two latter were charged 
 with a blasphemous raising of the devil, which they 
 
 I 
 
w:I THE RULE OF NEMESIS 53I 
 
 had undertaken with La Voisin's aid, and who was 
 asserted to have brought the due and cardinal boundless 
 wealth. 
 
 Saint Aignan laughed at the story, made all sorts of 
 jokes about it, and continued to be the king's prime 
 favorite. The Comtesse de Soissons, in whom His 
 Majesty had always lelt much interest, yielded to his 
 wish and withdrew to Brussels for the benefit of her 
 health. The Duchesse de Bouillon and Franz Hein- 
 rich de Montmorency-Bouteville, duke, peer and Mar- 
 shal of France, who bore the name of Montmorency 
 united with that of the imperial House of Luxembourg 
 — were acquitted. 
 
 The good Parisians laughed and made jokes over it 
 
 Of course the state of the case was far different with 
 La Voisin and her accomplices. Here Nemesis did 
 not shrink from grasping her victims with a firm hold 
 and leading them to well-merited punishment. 
 
 To-day — on the day of the death of the poor Duch- 
 esse de Fontanges, who it was darkly rumored had 
 also been poisoned — all Paris was violently excited by 
 the announcement of the sentence of the Chambre 
 ardente. 
 
 The verdict of the court was: that La Voisin should 
 be burned alive, Vigoureux hanged, and the two 
 priests, Lesage and d'Auvaux, suffocated. 
 
 The news made a deep impression upon all the 
 citizens of Paris. They thanked God for this decision 
 Qi the court whose execution they might hope would 
 
 
532 - A ROYAL ROBBER 1- 
 
 not only cause the destruction of the whole band of 
 murderers, but forever prevent the recurrence of such 
 cririles. 
 
 Of course the only subject discussed in the court 
 and city was this cause c^lebre, but — at the court as 
 well as in the city — many hearts throbbed and trem- 
 bled, counting the seconds up to the time of the exe- 
 cution of the criminals, because each moment they had 
 cause to dread the betrayal of their own crimes by 
 these their accomplices. 
 
 "But their terror did not seem to be justified. Vig- 
 oureux had first been tried. She had either remained 
 silent throughout the examinations or stoutly denied 
 all accusations; but when she was condemned she sent 
 word to Monseigneur Louvois, that she would disclose 
 the most important things, if he would spare her life. 
 
 Louvois replied : • ' 
 
 "Pshaw! Torture will loosen her tongue." 
 
 But the powerful Minister of France was mistaken. 
 When Vigoureux received the marquis' answer, she 
 replied quietly: 
 
 "Very well, then the wise gentleman will learn 
 nothing." 
 
 And in fact — such energy did this corrupt woman 
 possess — Vigoureux endured all degrees of horrible 
 torture without uttering a word. She was thrown 
 naked on her back upon a table with her hands and 
 feet fastened to the floor and the table was raised up- 
 ward by screws till all her joints were nearly wrenched 
 
^ ' THE RULE OF NEMESIS - 535 
 
 asunder and blood started from under the nails, the 
 mouth, eyes, ear and nose. 
 
 Vigoureux did not utter a word. 
 
 Matches were burned under her arms and on her 
 body. She writhed — as much as her bands permitted 
 — like a worm, but — did not utter a word of confession. 
 She was burned with hot pincers — and was silent but 
 her eyes shot basilisk glances. 
 
 The resoluteness was the more amazing, as the 
 doctor more than once declared that the horrible torture 
 must be stopped, or the criminal would die. 
 
 What terrible delusion of mind, dishonoring to all 
 humanity! What hardness of the heart! What mis- 
 taken legal ideas! The judges appointed to mete out 
 justice and punish human crimes humanely, become — 
 while condemning murder — murderers themselves, and 
 those who were tortured were not always murderers, 
 but often innocent people. 
 
 On reaching the Place de Gr6ve the following day 
 Vigoureux sent for the magistrates. 
 
 The latter hurried to the spot, hoping at last to 
 obtain some confessions from this condemned woman; 
 but Vigoureux with one foot alread)' on the steps of 
 the scaffold, said the following words: 
 
 "Gentlemen, be kind enough to tell the Marquis de 
 Louvois that I am his most humble servant, and — 
 have kept my promise to him; perhaps he would not 
 have done so to me!" 
 
 Then she turned to the executioner, exclaiming: 
 
534 .A ROYAL Rt)BBER I ^^ . 
 
 i ■■ " ' ■'■ 
 
 "Now, my friend, do your duty!" : > 
 
 She went up the steps of the scaffold and aided the 
 executioner in his business, as well as her tortured 
 body would permit. 1 
 
 A few moments after a dark life was ended. 
 
 When the story of Vigoureux's death, with all the 
 circumstances attending it, was related to La Voisin, 
 the latter said: " 
 
 "I recognize her true character in that; she was a 
 brave girl, but she made a mistake; I shall tell every- 
 thing that concerns me." 
 
 But her course was of no more avail than that of 
 her fellow-criminal. When the former was stretched 
 upon the rack, she confessed many things, but — her 
 tormentors wanted to know more, and as she could 
 tell nothing farther, poured combustible fluids over 
 her and ignited them. To escape hearing her horrible 
 shrieks of agony, a gag was placed in her mouth. 
 ' Thus the fury of her judges made her endure every 
 extremity of torture. 
 
 Nemesis, the gloomy goddess of vengeance, triumph- 
 antly swung her dark rod. ; 
 
 The next day — after witnessing the strangling of the 
 two accomplices, the priests, Lesage and d'Auvaux — 
 she was dragged to the place of execution. Here, 
 wlien placed on a pile of wood, an attempt was made 
 to cover her with straw, but La Voisin in her horrible 
 
THE RULE OF NEMESIS 535 
 
 death agony pushed executioners and straw away 
 several times — till her strength failed. 
 
 The straw and wood were now quickly lighted, and 
 the flames blazed above the unhappy wretch. 
 
 When the heap of wood fell the ashes were scattered 
 in all directions. 
 
 The world was delivered from four horrible wretches. 
 
 Strassburg had fallen — Louvois summoned his 
 sovereign to make a formal entry and receive the 
 homage of the conquered city. 
 
 Though Louis XIV had expected the summons it was 
 doubJy welcome. at this moment. 
 
 The very next day, the king, attended by his whole 
 court, set out for Alsace. 
 
 i-i':U, 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE CONSECRATION OF THE ROBBEFY, 
 
 A wonderfully beautiful October day smiled upon 
 the earth. The sky was so blue and clear, that it 
 recalled the memory of Italy, and the sun shone so 
 brightly that the heart of every worthy human being 
 would have swelled with delight, if — yes, if men did 
 not often make the Paradise of earth a hell to each 
 other. 
 
 There stood the city, illumined by the sunlight, 
 while deep sorrow and mourning filled the hearts of 
 a larger portion of its inhabitants. 
 
 The bells rang solemnly, the houses were richly 
 adorned, flags waved from the cathedral ; but only a 
 few of the citizens of Strassburg could endure to-day 
 to raise their eyes to the superb edifice, for there — 
 high above the flags of the city — floated the proud ban- 
 ner of France. The streets and squares were crowded 
 with gaily dressed people but only a few were natives 
 of Strassburg; the majority had flocked in from the 
 country, from Alsace and the neighboring provinces of 
 France. Louvois had even secretly directed that all 
 French cities and parishes in the vicinity must send a ' 
 
 certain number of their inhabitants. 
 
 536 i 
 
 ;':^^- 
 
THE CONSECRATION OF THE ROBBERY ' 5^7 
 
 Thus to-day Strassburg presented an animated scene, 
 although most of the citizens remained quietly in their 
 houses. Nay, the throngs even wore a joyful appear- 
 ance, as the numerous French subjects certainly had 
 plenty of cause to consider the day one of true rejoic- 
 ing and victory. To-day . . . to-day the ceremonious 
 entry of the King of France into Strassburg and the 
 occupation of this important place were to occur. 
 
 But each individual Frenchman seemed to himself a 
 conqueror, and gazed proudly at the beautiful city, 
 which was henceforth to be incorporated with France. 
 And the proud presumption of the French was also 
 increased by a new rumor of victor}', which spread 
 like an alarm of fire. It was the news that on the very 
 day of the fall of Strassburg, the key of Germany, the 
 king's troops had captured the fortress of Casale, 
 called the key of Italy. This capture seemed the first 
 step towards paving the way for Louis XIV to ob- 
 tain the mastery of Italy. The French exulted, the 
 fame of the "great king" flew from lip to lip; his 
 subjects already saw a road opened to a universal mon- 
 archy with the ruler of France at its head, the world 
 belonged to French and Frenchmen. 
 
 Thousands of people surged through the streets, 
 especially around the house of the new French gov- 
 ernor of the city, the Marquis de Chamilli one shout 
 of "Long live the king; long live the conqueror of 
 Strassburg and Casale!" followed another. 
 
 But every such shout was a dagger in the hearts of 
 
538 A ROYAL ROBBER j 
 
 the Strassburg patriots, and many now envied the 
 poor little tailor Wenck, who — sleeping in Mother 
 Earth — no longer saw or heard what was passing 
 here. 
 
 Syndicus Frantz and his family suffered most deeply. 
 
 Terrible tidings constantly assailed them: now that- 
 the fate of the city was decided and Catholic France 
 had obtained the mastery, the long ripening fruit of 
 treason fell into the hands of the government. A num- 
 ber of the first families— principally belonging to the 
 magistracy — loudly and publicly declared their will- 
 ingness to serve France in any way, and — wished to 
 join the Catholic church. 
 
 At the head of these cowardly and doubly bribed 
 apostates were the names of Giinzer, Stosser, Zedlitz, 
 Obrecht, Hecker, Frischmann, etc. Of course ihe 
 most brilliant rewards were bestowed upon such noble 
 deeds. Giinzer had already — while retaining posses- 
 sion of his former offices with their revenues — been 
 appointed Syndicus General of the city and Kannzlel 
 Director. A new and lucrative post was created for 
 Hecker, that of a royal Stadtrichter (une charge de 
 Lieutenant priteur royal). 
 
 A few days before, Prince Franz Egon of Fiirsten- 
 berg, bishop of Strassburg, had entered the city with 
 truly royal pomp. 
 
 Franz Egon, the holy man, came from Zaberne, 
 which since the Reformation had been the residence 
 of the bishop of Strassburg, in triumph back to the 
 
THE CONSECRATION OF THE ROBBERY 539 
 
 old bishopric, to resume possesion of the superb ca- 
 thedral. 
 
 He came — not as a modest announcer of the gospel 
 of love — but a haughty conqueror, armed with worldly 
 and ecclesiastical power, firmly resolved if possible 
 to crush out the last trace of Protestantism in Strass- 
 burg. 
 
 In the eight equipages, among others, were Prince 
 Wilhelm, Count Maximilian, and Philip Eberhard 
 von Lowenstein, Count Salm, Count Felix of Fiirsten- 
 berg, and Barons Roswurn Lerchenfeld, Elsenheim, 
 von Waugen, and finally the Prince Bishop's civil and 
 ecclesiastical officers. 
 
 Thus Franz Egon, .amid the thunder of cannon and 
 ringing of bells, entered Strassburg between lines of 
 French troops and heralded by the blare of trumpets, 
 but — amid total silence on the part of the people, only 
 the inhabitants of the surrounding country, and the 
 lowest classes of citizens, had added their contingent 
 to the mute and sullen crowd. 
 
 But the cathedral, whose possession had been so 
 long striven for by such shameful means, was to be 
 occupied immediately. 
 
 The bishop's triumphal procession moved directly 
 towards the superb monument of the immortal Erevin 
 von Steinbach, the pride of Strassburg, the ancient 
 cathedral. 
 
 Here, at the principal entrance, saluted by the troops 
 and greeted by twenty-one salvos of artillery, the new 
 
 A ■-■>;i^ki*iivUT..-- ■ .'.' 
 
540 A ROYAL ROBBER j /^ 
 
 French governor, the Marquis de Chamilli, received 
 the prince of the church, delivering the cathedral to 
 him in the name of His Majesty, Louis XIV, king of 
 France. 
 
 When this great moment was over, Prince Franz 
 Egon went to the palace of his sister, the Margravine 
 of Baden, which had been superbly fitted up for him. 
 A captain of the royal troops, with sixty men, formed 
 his body guard by Louvois' express comrnand. 
 
 Scarcely had the holy man alighted from his car- 
 riage, when Lieutenant General Baron de Visat, com- 
 mander of the fifteen thousand French troops in Strass- 
 burg, paid his respects, with all the French nobles 
 who had arrived. The magistrates also sent a dele- 
 gation, which was of course composed of men like 
 Gunzer, Stosser, Obrecht, and others of similar views, 
 who — traitors to their religion and country — heartily 
 congratulated the victorious bishop upon the posses- 
 sion of the cathedral. 
 
 The cathedral was superbly decorated and adorned 
 with banners, the bishop's train imposing in its splen- 
 dor. But — it was also necessary to display the mediae- 
 val magnificence of the Catholic church, the blame- 
 worthiness of Protestant heresy. 
 
 Banners waved, incense floated on the air, choirs 
 sang, maidens attired in white preceded the train, 
 while in the midst of the ecclesiastical dignitaries, sur- 
 rounded by the whole chapter, attended by the assist- 
 ant bishops, the Prince of Nassau, the grand vicar of 
 
-; . , THE CONSECRATION OF THE ROBBERY 54T 
 
 the purple robed canons, the Prince Bishop Franz 
 Egon of Furstenberg entered the cathedral, in order, 
 first of all, to perform the great act of exorcism, that 
 is to expel the demon of heresy from the sacred place. 
 Then followed the joyous ceremonial of a new conse- 
 cration and the first masses at the seven hastily erected 
 altars. 
 
 The majority of the citizens of Strassburg naturally 
 remained absent from these ceremonies, only the apos- 
 tates, with cowardly servility and the desire to be 
 seen, pressed forward with redoubled zeal, as well as 
 a ^ew of the lowest class, who were anxious to witness 
 the spectacle. 
 
 But who could describe the sorrow and mourning 
 which during these hours oppressed so many loyal 
 Protestant hearts? 
 
 AH Stassburg felt a common sorrow but, — it was a 
 deep anguish of the soul, anguish which the German 
 nation inherited, and which has now lasted for almost 
 two centuries. 
 
 Sharp was the contrast between the grave, repressed 
 sorrow of the citizens and the enthusiasm displayed 
 by the conquerors. 
 
 The fifteen thousand men under Lieutenant General 
 Baron de Visat's command already stood formed in 
 two lines in the streets, but behind the ranks a vast 
 crowd surged to and fro, while others were endeavor- 
 ing to obtain a good position to see the king pass. 
 
 Strassburg — good old German , Strassburg — had to- 
 
^ 
 
 ■^Tg^ 
 
 542 /A ROYAL ROBBER 1 
 
 day for the first time assumed the character of a French 
 city, since on every side nothing was heard but that 
 language, nothing was seen but French faces — only 
 the cry: Viva le Roi! Vive le vainqueur de Stras- 
 burg et CassaleT rang on the air. 
 
 Every honest patriot felt that he was standing by 
 the grave of the old freedom, and the present festival 
 — was a funeral. 
 
 Hours elapsed and the king did not appear. 
 
 The impatience of the crowd increased every mo^ 
 ment. 
 
 One mounted messenger after another was sent to- 
 wards Vitry, from whence the king would approach 
 with his train ; but even on the frontier nothing was 
 to be seen of the triumphal procession. 
 
 At last — it was nearly eleven o'clock — rockets ap- 
 peared in the distance. 4 M 
 
 Couriers, covered with sweat and dust, darted to 
 the city, bringing news to the magistrates that His 
 Majesty was approaching. A new thrill ran through 
 the throng, all the bells in the city began to ring and 
 the cannon thundered from the walls. 
 
 At last! At last! The city was gained and Louis 
 XIV entered. 
 
 "Vive le Roi!" thundered on the air. 
 
 "Vive le vainqueur de Strassburg et Casale! " was 
 the answering shout. 
 
 Immense bodies of troops formed the vanguard of 
 the procession, followed by an endless succession of 
 
 
THE CONSECRATION OF THE ROBBERY 543 
 
 the various officers of the court, constantly interrupted 
 by mounted divisions of cuirassiers, trumpeters, heralds 
 and ofHcials of lower rank. 
 
 All glittered with a pomp that could scarcely be 
 described, a splendor whose brilliancy was increased by 
 the superb weather. 
 
 And this magnificence became greater in proportion 
 to the vicinity of His Majesty, until at last the king's 
 equipage, drawn by eight horses, appeared with the 
 scarcely less costly carriages of the various members 
 of the royal family. 
 
 His Majesty, Louis XIV, King of France, was ac- 
 companied by Her Majesty the Queen, the dauphin 
 and dauphiness, monsieur and madame, and all the 
 lords and ladies of the court and kingdom. 
 
 Then came all the equipages, horses and servants 
 belonging to the courtiers, together with the pages 
 and officials of the royal household, and finally more 
 bodies of troops. 
 
 In fact this imposing procession lasted nearly two 
 hours. 
 
 And the bells still rang, the cannon thundered, the 
 trumpets blared, the shouts of the crowds rent the air. 
 
 But in many houses the windows— even while the 
 procession was passing — remained closed — closed like 
 the hearts, which the King of France alienated still 
 farther by the order that, during his stay in Strassburg 
 no Protestant should be permitted to visit the cathe- 
 dral, and the citizens should be forbidden, on pain of 
 
_.•-; ; ' ■'^^^'' ^' '■ ■>;,^'7^^.<r-^-*''-7;^ij;::^~-^;i^r'r 
 
 544 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 i .- ^ 
 
 the most severe punishment, to hold an}' communica- 
 tion whatever with the outside world. This was a 
 fine indication of the manner in which promises made 
 at the time of the capitulation would be kept. 
 
 One man of God, however, received the o^her at the 
 door of the cathedral: Prince Franz Egon of Fiirsten- 
 berg, Bishop of Strassburg, welcomed His Most Christ- 
 ian Majesty. 
 
 There stood the shameless wretch, greeting the 
 usurper of Strassburg, Louis XIV as follows: "Blessed 
 be God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy 
 Ghost, for this hour! After being reinstated by the 
 strong omnipotent arm of Your Majesty, the greatest 
 king of the earth, in the possession of this church, 
 from which my predecessors were driven by the vio- 
 lence of the heretics, I may well say with old Simeon: 
 'Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace, 
 for mine eye have seen Thy salvation.'" 
 
 Such were the words of the shameless traitor to his 
 native city and country, the German prince, Franz 
 Egon of Fiirstenberg, Bishop of Strassburg, as he 
 extended the crucifix for Louis XTV, King of France, 
 to kiss. Then, according to custom, he offered His 
 Majesty the holy water the folding doors flew wide 
 open, the organ sounded, the king and his train 
 entered the magnificent edifice, and the 7> Deitm 
 laudamus began. 
 
 Before the high altar knelt Louis XIV, King of 
 France, thanking God — for having prospered his rob- 
 bery of Strassburg. 
 

 :"^- 
 
 CHAPTER X. - 
 
 •' JOY AND SORROW. 
 
 The king had left Strassburg, but the bells still 
 rang, the cannon still thundered to escort His Majesty 
 to the boundaries of the now French city. ' 
 
 But the impression made by Louis XIV on the bet- 
 ter portion of the inhabitants was very unfavorable, 
 and greatly increased the universal anxiet)' regarding 
 the future. - 
 
 .s His first act showed distrust and love of tyranny. 
 The king, as soon as he arrived, mounted his horse, 
 in order — accompanied by Louvois and Vauban — to 
 visit the citadel the latter had planned. - 
 
 His Majesty ordered the work to be executed as rap- 
 idly as possible, as well as the building of the two 
 redoubts Louvois had directed to be erected within 
 the city to hold the inhabitants in check, if they 
 chanced to be rebellious. 
 
 Moreover, on the same day, Louis XIV orderied that 
 eighty pieces of the captured artiller}^ — among them 
 . the ancient Maise, dear to the hearts of the citizenss 
 — should be taken to Breisach to be recast, while at 
 the same time the citizens, on account of some free 
 speaking, received fresh and strict commands to de- 
 35 -> •'-,., - :■- 545, ., ;^,:_ . 
 
546 
 
 A ROYAL ROBBER 
 
 liver up their guns, nay even their swords and pistols. 
 
 Strassburg received these first fruits of the new rule 
 in sullen, angry silence. But what resistance could 
 the inhabitants make? Fifteen thousand Frenchmen 
 held them in check and watched the grave of their four 
 centuries of freedom. 
 
 But the patriots — so far as was possible — had 
 proudly and firmly closed their eyes and ears to all 
 the brilliant festivals of the last week. Even the 
 houses in many streets were shut, and many hundreds 
 of windows remained closed by curtains, while usurp- 
 ing royalty was displaying its magnificence and splen- 
 dor without. 
 
 Ah! the pain in the hearts of the patriots was far 
 too great, the grief of the Frantz family was inde- 
 scribable. 
 
 To deep sorrow over the fall of Strassburg was 
 united secret rebellion, indignation at the manner in 
 which the treacherous deed had been effected and the 
 traitors themselves, as well as sincere mourning for 
 the death of the worthy Wenck. 
 
 Hugo von Zedlitz and the Syndlcus had had him 
 buried quietly, and followed his body to the grave. 
 Never was grief more sincere than theirs, but in these 
 troublous times they locked it deep in their hearts. 
 
 And must not fresh anxieties be added to these 
 cares? The new government had already proved faith- 
 less to its pledge in many instances, who was to pre- 
 vent Its violation of the eighth article of the capitu- 
 
JOY AND SORROW 547 
 
 lation with its promise of a universal amnesty? And 
 were not Frantz and his family, as well as Hugo von 
 Zedlitz, seriously compromised in regard to the new 
 government? Had they not cause to expect the worst 
 from Giinzer, their mortal enemy, who now held the 
 highest place among the magistrates, whom he directed 
 by virtue of his position, nay who was commissioned 
 by the French government to watch the magistrates 
 and citizens and report any hostile feeling. 
 
 And how was such a loyal German as the Syndicus 
 to abjure allegiance to Germany and swear fealty to 
 France? How could Hugo von Zedlitz do this? 
 
 Syndicus Frantz had therefore, ever since the in- 
 evitable capitulation, remained absent from the meet- 
 ings of the magistrates and had not appeared to take 
 the oath. Hugo, by his advice, remained in conceal- 
 ment, at least for the present. 
 
 With deep sorrow Hedwig and Alma beheld the man 
 to whom their hearts clung as the best and most faith- 
 ful husband and father, aging rapidly since his last 
 illness and especially since the fall of his beloved 
 Strassburg. His brown hair, which of late had only 
 been .sparsely tinged with gray, had now become white, 
 his erect frame bowed ; his grave, dignified features 
 had assumed a look of still greater earnestness, nay 
 a somewhat stern, harsh expression, which was usually 
 utterly foreign to his gentle, kindly nature. 
 
 Besides the Syndicus of late had talked very little 
 — even to his own family. Locked in his room ail 
 
 'HL'-- 
 
^ViS"- 
 
 ^^'f'm 
 
 548 " ; A ROYAL ROBBER -A' t ~ / 
 
 day, he worked busily with closed curtains and, only 
 came down to his meals. What he did no one knew, 
 only Hedwig perceived that letters came and went by 
 a mysterious, disguised messenger. 
 
 But the most troubled member of the Frantz family 
 was Alma. Her bright hopes were all crushed — the 
 deepest gloom rested upon her heart and future. 
 
 Alma would not have been her father's daughter, 
 if her trouble had showed itself in any way except 
 greater quietness, grave, silent earnestness. 
 
 Hedwig respected in both, what she sympathized 
 with only too keenly. , 
 
 Thus the house — standing so near the cathedral and 
 therefore surrounded by noise and tumult— had become 
 as silent as a grave. Deep solemnity rested upon it, 
 and to-day — the day when the king intended to leave 
 Strassburg again — to da}' a greater shade of mystery 
 was added. 
 
 Frantz had asked his wife and daughter to put on 
 their black holiday dresses at the time of the mon- 
 arch's departure. 
 
 Both looked at the old gentleman in surprise, but, — 
 accustomed to obedience and respecting the resigned 
 gravity with which he had spoken, instantly assented. 
 But still more surprising was the request to instantly 
 pack up everything that would be necessary for an ab- 
 sence of several weeks. 
 
 So afternoon had come and His Majesty Louis XIV, 
 King of France and now master of Alsace and Strass- 
 
 ^_^^- :^ j.:^->-;.. ~ , ;; >jf-- ■ 'tj:^:i ^':- in.-:^-^ '■■.:- -^ 
 
JOY AND SORROW 
 
 549 
 
 burg, had quitted the city with the same pomp with 
 which a few days before he had entered. 
 
 The bells were still pealing, the cannon still thun- 
 dering to accompany His Majesty to the frontier. 
 
 In the Syndicus' house, on the contrary, a death- 
 like silence prevailed. He himself was locked into 
 his own room ; the mother and daughter were chang- 
 ing their dresses, after fulfilling the old gentleman's 
 wish and packing up everything the family would 
 need for an absence of several weeks, 
 r Hedwig and Alma — each coming from her chamber 
 — entered the sitting-room at the same moment. 
 
 Both were deadly pale, but the pallor and black 
 silk dress made Alma so beautiful, that even the most 
 critical eye would scarcely have wished her to look 
 otherwise. There was a lofty expression on the lovely 
 but now grave features, while from the beautiful blue 
 eyes looked forth sad, quiet resignation, a deeply ag- 
 itated mind, and the thick, fair hair, whose braids 
 framed her head, lent the tall, slight, girlish figure a 
 gentle grace. The whole effect was enhanced by the 
 plain black dress, which gave the child a pathetic 
 charm. Alma was attired as she would have been for 
 some religious festival. 
 
 The bells were still ringing and the cannon still 
 thundering as she entered with her mother. 
 
 "So my father's wish is fulfilled!' she said in a 
 quiet, gentle tone, as she perceived her mother also in 
 holiday dressj "but what is to be done now?" 
 
55<5 A ROYAD ROBBER I 
 
 I ■ ■ 
 
 "Do I know, my child?" replied Hedwig. "But 
 whatever your father desires, let us obey without oppo- 
 sition. We know how kind are his intentions, know 
 his wise, thoughtful mind, and must respect his deep 
 grief by quiet compliance." ; 
 
 "I trust him entirely!" said Alma calmly. 
 
 "And your father deserves this confidence," replied 
 the mother, "nay, it will strengthen him in his bitter 
 conflicts. If we are not to be ruined amid the calam- 
 ities of life, we must have by our side hearts that not 
 only understand and feel with us, but also know the 
 depths of our natures and devote themselves to us, 
 even when all the rest of the world desert us." 
 
 "Well!" said Alma, with a melancholy smile, but 
 an expression of the sweetest filial devotion, as she 
 clung to her mother and kissed her, "such a heart you 
 have in me. " 
 
 Hedwig returned the caress; but in doing so saw 
 the tears, which involuntarily sprang to her child's 
 eyes. 
 
 But she was silent. She knew what the tears meant; 
 but there was no room for discussion here; the Syn- 
 dicus had said at the time of the happy betrothal: 
 "On the day that makes us free again you, my chil- 
 dren, shall become man and wife!" But where was 
 this freedom now — was it not forever lost? Was not' 
 the personal liberty of the father and lover at stake? 
 Was not the future — at least for the moment — veiled 
 in darkness and gloom? " 
 
JOY AND SORROW. 55I 
 
 "Have confidence here also, my child," said the 
 mother. "The Eternal Father has never deserted any 
 of his children, who turned with love and trust to his 
 heart. Rely, too, on yourself and your own heart. 
 In times of conflict the wise must know how to bear 
 the inevitable with strength and dignity; if they do 
 this, faith in a fairer future will support them." 
 
 "I will do so, mother!" replied Alma, and Hedwig 
 knew her daughter did not lack the strength of char- 
 acter necessary to keep this promise. 
 
 At this momnet the Syndicus entered, also in holi- 
 day dress. 
 
 The wife and daughter went to meet him. 
 
 "Children!" said the Syndicus with gentle earnest- 
 ness, as he held out a hand to each, while to their 
 surprise something like a smile flitted over his feat- 
 ures. "Children, God still lives and does not desert 
 those who do not abandon Him. Come, let us act. 
 I love not idle^ sorrow that leads to nothing and only 
 consumes our strength." 
 
 "But what is to be done?" asked Hedwig in sur- 
 prise. 
 
 "Come!" replied the old gentleman, "and you will 
 see and hear." 
 
 He led the way; but his figure was less bowed 
 than it had been of late. "He must be sustained by 
 some bold resolve!" thought Hedwig. And in truth 
 she knew her husband. 
 
 The Syndicus led the v/ay upstairs to his study, 
 
-.i-^jri. 
 
 552 A ROYAL ROBBER ' ' 
 
 from which opened another room, only to be reached 
 by passing through the study itself. 
 
 When they gained the top, theSyndicus opened the 
 floor and allowed the ladies to enter. But what was 
 the astonishment of Hedwig and Alma to perceive a 
 party of intimate friends. Both men and women were 
 present; but only people of the same views as those 
 held by the Frantz family. Hugo von Zedlitz, Frau 
 von Bernhold— the pretty little widow whom Giinzer 
 had so shamefully robbed of her estate of Plobsheim 
 — and the venerable pastor, to whose sermons Hedwig 
 and Alma had so often listened in the beautiful cathe- 
 dral now forever closed to them, appeared. 
 
 The latter was in his ecclesiastical dress and Hugo 
 in holiday attire. 
 
 -Heavens, what did this mean? A feeling of joyful 
 surprise thrilled the hearts of the mother and daugh- 
 ter, suffusing the latter's face with a crimson flush. 
 Hugo greeted her tenderly, but the deep, though gen- 
 tle gravity did not vanish from his features. 
 
 It was the same with the others. ' 
 
 When the quiet greetings, which revealed the sor- 
 row in every heart, were over, the Syndicus said: 
 
 "Dear friends! Grave times demand grave measures. 
 1 will not tear open the deep, never to be healed 
 v/ounds in my heart and yours. Strassburg's freedom, 
 preserved, for four hundred, years, has vanished; Strass- 
 burg no longer belongs to the German empire, it ,i.s 
 now — though by treachery and unprecedented violence 
 
f ■- ^ - JOY AND SORROW 553 
 
 — the property of France. As an honest man, a good 
 citizen and loyal German, I battled against this shame- 
 ful deed to the last. Fate has conquered us, we must 
 submit to the inevitable, but that is not saying that 
 loyal Germans must bow beneath the French yoke. I 
 at least — cannot! That is why I have given up my 
 office, that is why to day with my family I leave the 
 city of rny birth, the city which has grown dear to 
 my soul. I leave it with a bleeding heart, but — I can- 
 not do otherwise — may God help me." 
 
 There was a universal movement; but no one ven- 
 tured to speak a word. 
 
 "But I cannot quit my beloved city without having 
 finished-'One last act of my political labor! " continued 
 Syndicus Frantz. "I did so by secretly writing, dur- 
 ing the last few days, a short account of the causes 
 which led to the fall of the city and its transfer to 
 the French government. We owe such a statement 
 and defense to the better classes of magistrates and 
 citizens, to our own honor, to Germany, the emperor 
 and empire, as well as posterity. Here it is, I shall 
 have it printed and laid on the altar of my native land. 
 
 "But with this document my activity in the now 
 French city of Strassburg is over. I am and wish to 
 remain a German. But if the alarm bells peal again, 
 if the emperor again unfurls the old banner, if through 
 all .Germany the cry resounds: 'Up, German brothers, 
 on to the Rhine! Avenge the disgrace and wrong 
 done you and our German native land by the robberj 
 
■■:^ 
 
 .•*i^ 
 
 554 A ROYAL ROBBER j " 
 
 of Alsace and Strassburg, then, then, my friends, old 
 Frantz will not be absent; then I will return to you, 
 dear beloved Strassburg and help regain your free- 
 dom, though I should shed my old blood before your 
 ramparts." 
 
 Frantz had spoken with ardent enthusiasm; now, in 
 spite of his age, he stood with his figure drawn up 
 to its full height, his eyes sparkled, his cheeks glowed, 
 and raising both hands to Heaven as if to conjure 
 it to speedily bring about such an awakening of the 
 German nation, such a restoration of its honor, tears 
 gushed from his eyes. . 
 
 Filled with the solemnity of the moment, and obey- 
 ing the impulse of their own hearts, all the men pres- 
 ent, raising their hands as if to take an oath, ex- 
 claimed: 
 
 "Yes, yes, we will be here too, we, too, will fight 
 to regain for our dear native city its old freedom and 
 allegiance." 
 
 And all with glowing hearts, and tears of mingled 
 sorrow and holy anger, clasped hands and shook them 
 upon the solemn oath. 
 
 "Be it so!" Syndicus Frantz now continued. "And 
 with this vow and the resolve to quit Strassburg with 
 my family, the day of freedom has returned for me 
 and mine. Long ago I purchased a modest little estate 
 in one of the loveliest valleys of the Rhine — on Ger- 
 man soil. Thither I go to-day with my relatives. An 
 attorney here will arrange my business in Strassburg 
 
 >li?j:.K<kiiJt^fii^'~^^^'>!ffji«*3Lt'-ni^i:i:i^;!«^ 
 
JOY AND SORROW 555 
 
 and send us the remnants of our property. It will be 
 enough to enlarge the little estate sufficiently to en- 
 able us all — with our modest wishes — to live on, and 
 by, if free in God's free nature, far from the petti- 
 nesses of men. < K ^ 
 
 "But ere this happens, I have one ple\^ant duty to 
 perform." Turning with open arms to Hugo and 
 Alma, he exclaimed: "Come to my heart, my children! 
 I promised that on the day that made us free again, 
 you should become man and wife. True, he added 
 sadly, I then thought of a far different freedom. God 
 has willed otherwise; we mortals must bow before 
 Him and His often veiled wisdom. But we need not 
 therefore allow ourselves to be made slaves. Free- 
 dom and loyalty to Germany is the breath of life to 
 us. Away with chains, and let us live free Germans 
 in our German native land. The day of our removal 
 from here is also the day that makes us free again, 
 that is: your wedding day, the day on which the bless- 
 ing of God, our blessing, and love will unite you as 
 husband and wife." 
 
 At these words Alma's friend, young Frau von Bern- 
 hold, her beautiful face wet with tears, approached 
 and placed a myrtle wreath on the young girl's luxu- 
 riant hair. The father opened the door of the adjoin- 
 ing room, which had been transformed into a simple 
 chapel. 
 
 Upon a plain desk lay the Bible. Candles burned 
 on either side. As the bridal pair entered, led by 
 the old pastpr and followed by parents and guests, a 
 
 
SS^ A ROYAL ROBBER j 
 
 ? deep silence prevailed, amid which was heard without 
 
 ;^^ the solenm pealing of the bells, blending with the dull 
 
 1^ ;/- roar of the cannon. 
 
 ^*' ' -' Solemn and earnest were the words now spoken by 
 the old pastor; profoundly earnest, yet pervaded with 
 tender warmth: a marriage address beside the grave 
 of freedom. "But freedom," said the venerable old 
 man, "is the true Messiah of humanity, and will there- 
 fore rise from every grave." 
 "' ■ ■ When he ended the bells and cannon were silent. 
 His Majesty, Louis XIV, King of France, had left the 
 possessions of Strassburg behind him; the robbery of 
 the city had been completed and secured. But in the 
 quiet little room, surrounded by a few faithful friends, 
 
 > bidding them farewell with tearful eyes, two deeply 
 
 r" " ■ agitated but infinitely happy human beings were 
 
 :~ clasped in each others arms. 
 
 At the same hour, by Hugo von Zedlitz' directions, 
 some unknown hand secretly placed a clay statue of 
 
 fc honest little Wenck on the gable roof of his house. 
 
 It stood there — a memento of the leal, patriotic soul 
 — until very recently. But although it finally fell a 
 victim to Time, and long years seemed to sanction the 
 
 f. possession of Strassburg by France — Germany and the 
 
 German nation ought and ^ust never forget one thing 
 
 ' and that is: ... 
 
 & The seizure of Strassburg In 1681. . . , > 
 
 THE END 
 

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 127. Evangeline lleuiy W. Lo]i,<jfenav/ 
 
 128. Evil Eye, The TheopLile Gauthior 
 
 131. Fatal Love Remiriz Arias 
 
 182. Fairyland of Science .Aiabella Uucklcy 
 
 134. Favorite Poems Elmo 
 
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 187. Fifteen Decisive Battles Sir Edvrard Shepherd Orensy 
 
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 140. Forging the Fetters Mrs. Alexander 
 
 141. Frankenstein Mary Shelley 
 
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 147. Grandfather's Chair Kathaniel Hawthorne 
 
 148. Green Dragon, At the Beatrice Harraden 
 
 161. Gulliver's Ti-avels ^-r. Dean Swift 
 
 163. Heir of Linne Robert Buchanan 
 
 158. Her Shattered Idol. .. Belle V. Logan 
 
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 161. Hiawatha ; Henry W. Longfellffw 
 
 162. Holmes' Poems Oliver Wendell Holmes 
 
 163. Homestead on the Hillside Mary Jane Holmes 
 
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 167. House of the Wolf Stanley J. Weyman 
 
 169. How It Came About Maja Spencer 
 
 171. Hypatia Charles Kingsley 
 
 173. Ideala Sarah Grand 
 
 174. Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow Jerome K. Jerome 
 
 176. Idylls of the King , Alfred Tennyson 
 
 177. Imitation of Christ Thomas a Kempis 
 
 178. In Chase of Crime Du Boisgobey 
 
 179. In Memoriam Alfred Tennyson 
 
 180. In the Rockies W. H. G. Kingston 
 
 181. Inez Augusta J. Evans 
 
 182. Ishmael, or, In the Depths Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth 
 
 183. Ivanhoe Sir Walter Scott 
 
 184. John Halifax Miss Mulock 
 
 185. Kept for the Master's Use Frances Ridley Havergal 
 
 186. Kidnapped Robert Louis Stevenson 
 
 191. King of the Golden River John Ruskln 
 
 192. Knickerbocker's History of New York Washington Irving 
 
 194. L'Americane Jules Claretie 
 
 196. Laddie and Miss Toosey's Mission Author of Zoe 
 
 198. Lady Grace Mrs. Henry Wood 
 
 199. Lady of the Lake Sir Walter Scott 
 
 201. Lalla Rookh Thomas Moore 
 
 202. Lamplighter Maria S. Cummins 
 
 203. Last Days of Pompeii E. Bulwer-Lytton 
 
 204. Lasit of the Mohicans J. Fenimore Cooper 
 
 205. La Veuve Octave Feuil|et 
 
 207. Let Ds Follow H im Hsnry Sienkiewicz 
 
 208. Lena Rivers Mary Jane Holmes 
 
 ?09. Light of Asia. Edwin Arnold 
 
I 
 
 210. Xight That Failed Eudyard Kipling 
 
 ax Little Queen of Tragedy, A Laura B. Margh 
 
 214. Lime Kiln Club M. Quad 
 
 215. Little Lame Prince MissMulock 
 
 216. Locksley Hall and Other Poems Al f red Tennyson 
 
 219. Longfellow's Poems Henry W. Longfellow 
 
 223. LornaDoone II. D. Blackmore 
 
 224. Love and Tears Arseme Houssaye 
 
 225. Loyalty of Langstreth, The John R. V. Gilliat 
 
 226. Love Letters of a Worl dly Woman Mrs. W. K. Clifford 
 
 227. Lucy's Wonderful Globe Charlotte M. Yonge 
 
 229. Lowell's Poems James Bussel 1 Lowell 
 
 281. Lucile Owen Meredith 
 
 234. Madame Sans-Gene Victorieu Sardou 
 
 235. Maggie Miller Mary Jane Holmes 
 
 236. Marble Faun Nathaniel Hawthorne 
 
 287. Maid, Wife or Widow Mrs. Alexander 
 
 239. Makers of Venice Mrs. Oliphant. 
 
 241. Man from Wall Street St. George Bathbone 
 
 243. Man in Black ..Stanley J. Weyman 
 
 244. Marmion Sir Walter Scott 
 
 245. Micah Clarke A. Conan Doyle 
 
 248. Meadowbrook Mary Jane Holmes 
 
 249. Miss Milne and I .' lota 
 
 250. Modern Quixote, A S. C. McCay 
 
 251. Moss-Side Marion Harland 
 
 252. Mosses from an Old Manse Nathaniel Hawthorne 
 
 253. Mortgage Foreclosed, The E. H. Thayer 
 
 254. Mother's Cook Book Harland 
 
 255. Macaria Augusta J. Evans 
 
 256. Minister's Wooing Harriet Beecher Stowe 
 
 257. Mrs. Caudle's Curtain Lectures Douglas Jerrold 
 
 258. My Lady's Money Wilkie Collins 
 
 259. Mysterious Juror Du Boisgobey 
 
 261. Nameless Love Charles Lomon 
 
 263. Natural Law in the Spiritual Worjd Henry Drummond 
 
 265. Not Like Other Girls Eosa N. Carey 
 
 266. Now or Never Oliver Optic 
 
 267. Octoroon, The Miss M. E. Braddon 
 
 268. Old California Days James Steel 
 
 269. Oklahoma Scout, The ; Theo. Baughman 
 
 270. Origin of Species Darwin 
 
 272. Past and Present Thomas Carlyle 
 
 273. Paradise Lost John Milton 
 
 275. Pathfinder J. Fenimore Cooper 
 
 279. Paul and Virginia Saint Pierre 
 
 281. Peck's Boss Book George W. Peck 
 
 282. Perfume of the Violet, The Frank H. Howe 
 
 283. Peter fiimple Capt. Marryat 
 
 284. Pilgrim's Progress ;■. John Bunyan 
 
 285. Pioneers J. Fenimore Cooper 
 
 286. Plain Tales from the Hills Eudyard Kipling 
 
 287. Pleasures of Life Sir John Lubbock 
 
 288. Poe's Poems Edgar Allan Poe 
 
 289. Poe's Tales Edgkr Allan Poe 
 
 290. Polite Life and Etiquette 
 
 291. Prisoners and Captives Henry Setou Merrim an 
 
 292. Pride and Prejudice Jane Austen 
 
 293. Prima Donna of the Slums, The Stanley McKenna 
 
 . 294. Prince of the House of David Rev. J. H. Ingraham 
 
 295. Princess Alfred Tennvson 
 
 296. Poor and Proud Oliver Optic 
 
 297. Professor Et the Breakfast Table Oliver Wendell Holmes 
 
 298. Prairie, The ." 1 J. Fenimore Cooper 
 
 299. Prue and I George William Curtis 
 
 301. Queen of the Air John Rnskin 
 
 904. Bab and His F'rieuds Dr. John. Brown, 
 

 ^^^Wr^^Wnm^^^^W^^ '-■'^^^?^WW^^^^^ 
 
 
 -- -r 
 
 > > . ..'-^ 306. Representative Hen ^ Balph Waldo EmerBOn 
 
 • yy£ • >' 807. Bevenge of Oiroe. . . '. Alezina Lorqngen 
 
 / "f^'~-\' 808. Reveries of a Bachelor (Ik Marvel ) Donald G. Mitqhell 
 
 "~r^:-~ 309. Robinson Crusoe Daniel Defoe 
 
 ., '-. 312. Rifle Bangers Capt. Mayne Reid 
 
 ''-'-' J SIS. Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam Edward Fitzgerald 
 
 ■^ - • • > '' ■ ''!*• Rosamond Mary J. Holir«i8 
 
 l#^ ■ ' 816. Royal Bobber, A. Herbert Rau 
 
 j "i 322. Scalp Hunters Oapt. Mayne Beid 
 
 326. Six to Sixteen Mrs. Juliana H. Ewing 
 
 327. Samantha at Saratoga Josiah Allen's Wife 
 
 - ',;: 328. Sartor BesartuB Thomas Carlyle 
 
 h ■• ■• " 32S>. Scarlet Letter, The Nathaniel Hawthorne 
 
 *i." " 330. Self Raised, or, From the Depths Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth 
 
 ;V ; 831. Seneca's Morals Sir Roger L' Estrange 
 
 832. Sesame and Lilies John Ruskin 
 
 883. ShadowofaSin Bertha M. Clay 
 
 ?:. 334. She's All the World to Me Hall Caine 
 
 : 836. Ships That Pass in the Night Beatrice Harraden 
 
 < 336. Sign of the Four A. Conan Doyle 
 
 337. Single Heart and Double Face... Charles Beade 
 
 838. Singularly Deluded Sarah Grand 
 
 839. Six Gray Powders, The Mrs. Henry Wood 
 
 340. Sketch Book, The Washington Irving 
 
 841. Snow Image, The Nathaniel Hawthorne 
 
 342. Squire's Darling Bertha M. Clay 
 
 843. Stickit Minister, The S.B.Crockett 
 
 u44 Stories from the French Guy de Maupassant and others 
 
 ,. ' - 345. Story of an African Farm (Ralph Iron) Olive Schreiner 
 
 846. Strange Case of Henry Toplass John W. Postgate 
 
 847. Stronger than Death Emile Bichebourg 
 
 848. Study in Scarlet A. Conan Doyle 
 
 849. Swiss Family Bobinson J. D. and J. B. Wyss 
 
 850. Tales from Shakespeare Charles and Mary Lamb 
 
 L- 851. Tales from the Odyssey Walter C. Perry 
 
 ?. 352. Tales from Tennyson G. C. Allen 
 
 .. - 353. Tanglewood Tales Nathaniel Hawthorne 
 
 854. Three Men in a Boat Jerome K. Jerome 
 
 355. Thelma Marie Corelli 
 
 856. Through the Looking Glass Lewis Carroll 
 
 357. Tom Brown at Oxford Thomas Hughes 
 
 ,'; 358. Tom Brown's School Days Thomas Hughes 
 
 ■_.:>, 359. Treasure Island Bobert Louis Stevenson 
 
 \, 360. True and Beautiful John Buskin 
 
 'C-^_ 361. Try Again Oliver Optic 
 
 862. Tempest and Sunshine Mary Jaue Holmes 
 
 .: ' v?' 364. Twice Told Tales Nathaniel Hawthorne 
 
 iV ,- ;, • 366. Under the Maples «, Walter N. Hinman 
 
 ■ ?' •, . 866. Uncle Tom's Cabin Harriet Beecher Stowe 
 
 i .- - 367. Vashti and Esther Author of Belle's Letters 
 
 ;' , f ■ 368. Vicar of Wakefield Oliver Goldsmith 
 
 , ;'• ' 869. Voyage of the Sunbeam Lady Brassey 
 
 870. Water Babies Charles Kingsley 
 
 371. Wedded and Parted Bertha M. Clay 
 
 : ;. 372. What Will the World Say? Mary Jane Holmes 
 
 '? V 873. What Would You Do, Love? Mary Jane Holmes 
 
 "" ' . 374. Whittier's Poems. John Greenleaf Whittier 
 
 875. White Company, The A. Conan Doyle 
 
 376. Wicked Girl, A Mary Cecil Hay 
 
 . 877. Wide, Wide World Susan Warner 
 
 '878. Williams Brothers Adrian Percy 
 
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 .; ^.- 880. Wit, Humor and Pathos Eli Perkins 
 
 :t . .'c 381. M'onder Book, The Nathaniel Hawthorne 
 
 i : V" ■ 382. Yellow Aster, The Iota 
 
 ., V . 383. Youngest Soldier of the Grand Army Du Boisgobey 
 
 'Z^.:-:7-''-..'^ 391. Zoe , Author of Laddie 
 
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