esty permit me to read them?"

"Read," exclaimed the queen; "pray, dear Caroline, let me hear them!"

Madame von Berg drew several papers from her pocket. "Let us first be
edified by the Spanish catechism, if it please your majesty," and she
read:

"Who are you, my child?"

"A Spaniard, by the grace of God."

"What does that mean?"

"A man of honor."

"Who is our enemy?"

"The Emperor of the French."

"What is the Emperor of the French?"

"A villain, the source of all evil."

"How many natures has he?"

"Two. A human and a diabolical nature."

"How many Emperors of the French are there?"

"One emperor in three."

"What are their names?"

"Napoleon, Murat, and Manuel Godoy."

"Which is the worst?"

"They are all equally bad."

"Whence does Napoleon come?"

"From sin."

"Murat?"

"From Napoleon."

"Godoy?"

"From both."

"What are the French?"

"Christians who have become heretics."

"What punishment deserves the Spaniard who neglects his duties?"

"The death and disgrace of a traitor."

"Is it a sin to kill a Frenchman?"

"No, a man gains heaven by killing one of the heretical dogs."

"Horrible!" exclaimed the queen, shuddering. "But that is their
catechism, and these are the doctrines which are actually taught the
people, and which filled them with such desperate courage at Saragossa.
And now, Caroline, let me hear something of the French catechism."

"Here is a passage reading: 'To honor and serve our Emperor Napoleon, is
to honor and serve God Himself, for it is he whom the Lord has given to
us, that he may restore the holy faith of our fathers and to rule over
us with wisdom and firmness. He is the anointed of the Lord, owing to
the consecration he has received at the hands of the pope, the head of
the Holy Catholic Church. Those who would not fulfil their duties to the
Emperor Napoleon would rebel against the will of God, and be doomed
eternally.'"

"That is the fanaticism of a man who believes in nothing but himself,
and whom this self-deification nevertheless will one day hurl into the
abyss," exclaimed the queen. "But hark, it strikes twelve! The king will
soon be here to take me to the palace. I will dress, for I must not keep
him long waiting. Ah, there he is already!" Louisa rose quickly from the
sofa and hastened toward the king, who entered the room. Madame von Berg
withdrew quietly, and the king and the queen remained alone.

The king took the hands which the