on the streets of the
town. By what flying panic, by what thrill of air communicated, who
shall say? but the passing bustle in the palace had already reached and
re-echoed in the region of the burghers. Rumour, with her loud whisper,
hissed about the town; men left their homes without knowing why; knots
formed along the boulevard; under the rare lamps and the great limes the
crowd grew blacker.

And now through the midst of that expectant company, the unusual sight
of a closed litter was observed approaching, and trotting hard behind it
that great dignitary Cancellarius Greisengesang. Silence looked on as it
went by; and as soon as it was passed, the whispering seethed over like
a boiling pot. The knots were sundered; and gradually, one following
another, the whole mob began to form into a procession and escort the
curtained litter. Soon spokesmen, a little bolder than their mates,
began to ply the Chancellor with questions. Never had he more need of
that great art of falsehood, by whose exercise he had so richly lived.
And yet now he stumbled, the master passion, fear, betraying him. He was
pressed; he became incoherent; and then from the jolting litter came a
groan. In the instant hubbub and the gathering of the crowd as to a
natural signal, the clear-eyed, quavering Chancellor heard the catch of
the clock before it strikes the hour of doom; and for ten seconds he
forgot himself. This shall atone for many sins. He plucked a bearer by
the sleeve. "Bid the Princess flee. All is lost," he whispered. And the
next moment he was babbling for his life among the multitude.

Five minutes later the wild-eyed servant burst into the armoury. "All is
lost!" he cried. "The Chancellor bids you flee." And at the same time,
looking through the window, Seraphina saw the black rush of the populace
begin to invade the lamplit avenue.

"Thank you, Georg," she said. "I thank you. Go." And as the man still
lingered, "I bid you go," she added. "Save yourself."

Down by the private passage, and just some two hours later, Amalia
Seraphina, the last Princess, followed Otto Johann Friedrich, the last
Prince of Gruenewald.

BOOK III

FORTUNATE MISFORTUNE

CHAPTER I

PRINCESS CINDERELLA

The porter, drawn by the growing turmoil, had vanished from the postern,
and the door stood open on the darkness of the night. As Seraphina fled
up the terraces, the cries and loud footing of the mob drew nearer the
doomed palace; the rus