n
every town and village the people, as soon they had recognized her,
hastened to procure fresh horses for her, and crowds gathered everywhere
to cheer her on her way. She had already passed through Frankfort, and
stopped in the village of Rettwein in front of the superintendent's
house. The footman entered and asked in her name for another set of
horses. The superintendent looked at him uneasily and gloomily. "I will
get them directly," he said; "I will go myself to the stable and harness
them, in order not to detain the queen unnecessarily." He left the house
hastily, and the footman returned to the carriage.

Louisa had risen and contemplated with a melancholy air the deserted
landscape. For the first time since the beginning of her journey she was
not welcomed on her arrival. Nobody seemed to know or care that it was
the queen who was seated in the carriage. Only a few tow-headed
peasants' children, in ragged, dirty dresses, rushed toward the
superintendent's house and stared at her, without saluting or thanking
her for her kindly nods.

"We shall frequently ride out of the gate, but no drums will be beaten,"
murmured she, with a faint smile, and sank back on the cushions.

Time passed, and no horses made their appearance. The queen glanced
uneasily at her watch. "We have been here nearly an hour," she said;
"this long delay renders me uneasy."

She rose once more and looked again out of the coach window. The same
silence prevailed. The children were still in front of the house, with
their fingers in their mouths staring at the carriage. At a distance the
dull lowing of the cows in their stables and the barking of dogs were to
be heard. No human being, except the few children, was to be seen; even
the superintendent did not make his appearance, although he knew that
the queen was waiting at his door. Just then, however, a laborer, in a
long blouse, with heavy wooden shoes, came out of the house and
remained at the door, staring with his small blue eyes at the royal
carriage.

"I do not know why," murmured Louisa, uneasily, "but this silence
frightens me; it fills my heart with a feeling of anxiety which I cannot
well explain. It seems to me as though every thing around me were
breathing treachery and mischief, and some great danger were menacing
me. Let us set out--we must leave this place. Why do not the horses
come?"

"Will your majesty permit me to call the footman, and ask him to hurry
up the postilion?"