e young prince, whose undisguised admiration caused him no second
thought; and, as he had just said, he had unbounded faith in his wife's
tact.

"I will send these telegrams myself," he said. "Since the duke's arrival
there's a telegraph office in the castle. You should ring for your maid,
my child; you look tired and worn--good-night."

With that he left her, but Adelheid did not follow his advice. She
returned once more to the window, and a bitter, pained expression lay on
her face. She had never before felt so keenly that she was to her
husband nothing more than a glittering bauble, to be exhibited by him to
prove how wisely he had chosen a wife; she was to be treated with the
greatest courtesy and politeness, because a princely fortune had been
received from her hand; but as a woman she was to be refused the most
trifling request with equal courtesy, because it did not suit his
pleasure.

The night was dark, and the low clouds which surrounded the forest
heights were black and heavy; only here and there, where a break
occurred, was a star to be seen glimmering far and faint in the distant
heavens. The face which peered out into the darkness had not the proud,
cold look which the world knew, but a disturbed, anxious expression,
lacking altogether that repose which was its chief characteristic at
most times.

The wife had both hands pressed against her breast, as if in pain. She
would have flown from that dark power which she felt was upon her. She
had sought her husband's protection, had plead for it--in vain. He went
and left her alone, and the other remained, with his dark, demoniacal
eyes, with his voice and tones, which exercised such a singular,
irresistible influence over her.

CHAPTER IX.

October had come. It was autumn's reign. The leaves of the trees were
richly colored with deep and varied hues. The landscape lay enveloped
morning and evening in fog and mist, and the nights brought with them
the hoar-frost, but the days, for the most part, were sunny and
delightful.

Since the gay evening on which the whole country round had assembled,
there had been no special festivities at Fuerstenstein; all interest had
centered in the hunt, which was, of course, of paramount importance to
the men.

The duke, at his wife's instance, decided to have no other great or
noisy entertainment at the castle. The duchess liked a change of faces
in their little circle, but she courted the quiet and freedom fro