ided efforts placed this earthly one on my head. You
were ambitious for me."

"Nay," and the prelate bent his head. "It was self that spoke, worldly
aggrandizement. I wished--God forgive me!--to administer not to the
prince but to the king. I am punished. The crown has broken your life.
It was the passing glory of the world; and I fell."

"And were not my eyes as dazzled by the crown as yours were by the
robes? Why did we leave the green hills of Osia? What destiny writes,
fate must unfold. And oh, the dreams I had of being great! I am
fifty-eight and you are seventy. And look; I am a broken twig, and you
tower above me like an ancient oak, and as strong." To the chancellor he
said: "And what is the budget?"

"Sire, it is fairly quiet in the lower town. The native troops have been
paid, and all signs of discontent abated. The duchess can do nothing but
replace von Rumpf. The Marshal is a straw in the wind; von Wallenstein
and Mollendorf, I hold a sword above their necks. Nearly half the
Diet is with us. There has been some strange meddling in the customs.
Englishmen have brought me complaints, through the British legation,
regarding such inspections as were never before heard of in a country
at peace. I consulted the chief inspector and he affirmed the matter.
He was under orders of the minister of police. It appears to me that
a certain Englishman is to be kept out of the country for reasons well
known to us. I have suspended police power over the customs. Ah, Sire,
if you would but agree with Monseigneur to dismiss the cabinet."

"It is too late," said the king.

"There is only one flaw," continued the chancellor. "This flaw is
Colonel Beauvais, chief in command of the cuirassiers, who in authority
stands between the Marshal and General Kronau. I fear him. Why?
Instinct. He is too well informed of my projects for one thing; he
laughs when I suggest in military affairs. Who is he? A Frenchman, if
one may trust to a name; an Austrian, if one may trust from whence he
came, recommended by the premier himself. He entered the cuirassiers as
a Captain. You yourself, Sire, made him what he is--the real military
adviser of the kingdom. But what of his past? No one knows, unless it be
von Wallenstein, his intimate. I, for one, while I may be wrong, trust
only those whose past I know, and even then only at intervals."

"Colonel Beauvais?" murmured the king. "I am sure that you are unjustly
suspicious. How many times have I