ld my telegram have the good fortune to
catch him at once, Bertram could not reach the capital in less than
twenty-four hours. During that time, however, I had not much leisure to
think of him; I was kept incessantly busy, bidding my guests farewell,
and attending to the various important matters of state, which had
perforce been neglected under the stress of the last few days. Busy as I
was, however, the face of the man I had seen in the crowd was
continually before my eyes. Whenever I went abroad, I scanned the
countenances of the people I met, in the hope that I might discover him
again. But I was not successful. Look as I would I could find no trace
of him. Could I have been mistaken? No! I felt certain I had not. The
man's image had printed itself so firmly upon my memory that I could
entertain no doubt upon the matter. I was still thinking of this when
word was brought to me that my father-in-law elect, the Prince of
Lilienhoehe, had reached the palace and desired an audience. On the
previous day, that is to say, the day of the funeral, I had only time to
salute him. Having received no letter from Ottilie that morning, his
presence was the more welcome. I bade them conduct him to my presence.

"You are surprised to see me," he said, as we shook hands. "I have come
to acquaint you with the fact that Ottilie is in the city."

"Ottilie here?" I cried, my heart leaping at his words. "When did she
arrive?"

"This morning," he answered. "She bids me say that it will give her
great pleasure to see you, whenever you can spare the time to come to
her. When I left the house she was resting after her journey."

The old city looked brighter now that I knew Ottilie was within its
confines. An hour or so later I drove to the Lilienhoehe Palace, where I
found her in her boudoir eagerly awaiting my coming. Never had she
looked more beautiful than at that moment.

"My poor Paul," she said, as I took her in my arms and kissed her, "you
have indeed known great sorrow lately. But, please God, happier times
are in store for us."

She spoke of Max, referring to him as a loving and sorrowing sister
might have done. Her soft voice and tender words soothed me, and when we
walked to the window and looked out upon the great square, I was happier
than I had been for many days. The significance of my action did not at
first strike me, but presently, when a cheer went up from the street
below, and I saw that a crowd had gathered and was