e must give me all possible assistance."

In the capital, all the bells were ringing, and at the railroad station
"extras" were announced with the Emperor's proclamation. In the midst
of a group of people in the street stood a man reading the words of the
Emperor. I knew him; it was Loedinger. His voice trembled; and when he
had finished, and the joyful crowd marched through the streets, he saw
me and embraced me heartily.

"What have we lived to see?" he cried. "Now we can die in peace. But
what is the matter with you? Why do you not cheer with us?"

I told him, in a few words, of the capture of my son, and the worst
fears which it justified.

Ludwig went at once to his ambassador, and I to the palace to see the
Prince, who would doubtless use his influence for the rescue of my son.
In the palace, there was great commotion. They said that no message
could be taken to the Prince now, as he was presiding at a session of
the Privy Council. I had to wait a long while. In the streets, the
rejoicing went on; it could be faintly heard from afar. The whole city
was illuminated.

At last I was told that the Prince could not see me today; I must leave
my petition with the chief of the Cabinet. He was a relative of my
son-in-law, and was favorably inclined towards me. He said that from
there no effective steps could be taken; that it was the business of
the Imperial government, and that I should address myself to the
Prussian ambassador, to whom he gave me a few lines. I felt like a
beggar who is sent from house to house.

At the Prussian Embassy, I was informed that the American Minister was
attending a conference, and that there was a stranger with him.

I was called in, and found Ludwig with the two ambassadors. All
necessary steps had already been agreed upon, and dispatches were at
once forwarded to Versailles.

We drove to the station in the American Minister's coach, and Ludwig
started for France, at once.

I went to Bertha, and, in spite of the new trouble that poured in upon
me, I felt somewhat relieved when with my daughter and her children.
Victor looked splendidly in his cadet uniform. Bertha met me with
outstretched arms, saying, "Father, we shall soon have peace, and he is
now almost a general."

It was not the least part of my sorrow that I had to inform Bertha of
our deep anxiety for Richard. In the gladness of her heart, she
ascribed it all to the exaggerated fears of Annette. The human heart is
self