he whole city
is wild over the author of 'Arivana' and your presence is demanded
everywhere, you want to run away from all the glory and triumph, and
hide yourself in a little, dark hole which is only bearable in
midsummer. Such an idea is unheard of."

"For my own sake--I need quiet and rest--I will go to Rodeck."

The young prince shook his head. He was accustomed to have his friend do
as he pleased without much heed to his remonstrances, and he knew no
means by which he could combat this new whim; but it did appear to him a
very unaccountable one.

"I believe my highly esteemed aunt knows what she's talking about
sometimes," he said, between a joke and a reproof. "She said to me last
night, in the theatre, 'Our friend has caprices like other poets.' I
agree with her. What has come over you, Hartmut? Yesterday and to-day
you were fairly beaming with triumph and joy, and now I have scarcely
left you for an hour and return to find you in the depths of melancholy.
Have you seen anything in the papers which has annoyed you? Something
from the pen of a malicious, spiteful critic, I'll be bound."

He turned toward the writing-table, where the evening papers lay.

"No, no," Rojanow said, hastily, but he turned his face sidewise, so
that it lay in the shadow. "All the papers mention 'Arivana,' and each
strives to outdo his neighbor in writing complimentary things about me.
You know I am of an uncertain temper, and am often cast down, without
being able to give reason for my depression."

"Yes, but now when you are overwhelmed with praise, fairly extolled to
the skies, such depression should be far from you. You really seem
exhausted. That comes from the excitement we both have undergone during
the past few weeks."

He bent anxiously over his friend, who stretched out his hand to him as
if to atone for this sudden change.

"Forgive me, Egon. You must have patience with me--I'll be myself again
in a little while."

"I sincerely hope so. My poet has much honor awaiting him, even
to-night. I'll leave you now. Try and rest, and don't let any one else
disturb you. You have three good hours before we need start."

The prince went. He had not seen the bitter smile on his friend's face
when he referred to his triumphs and good fortune; and yet the prince
had spoken the truth. Fame was good fortune and happiness, perhaps the
highest in life, and Hartmut was willing to acknowledge that it was so,
until an hour ago, when a bi