elling
and shooting like unmanageable savages.

Before two o'clock the city itself was in the hands of the hated enemy
of the Crown. He and his aliens, malefactors and all, were in complete
control of the fortress, the gates and approaches, the Tower and the
bloody streets. A thousand of them,--eager, yelling ruffians,--marched
to within firing distance of the Castle walls and held every approach
against reinforcements. Except for the failure to destroy the Prince and
his counsellors, the daring, unspeakable plans of Count Marlanx had been
attended by the most horrifying results. He was master. There was no
question as to that. The few hundred souls in the Castle grounds were
like rats in a trap.

A wise as well as a cruel man was Marlanx. He lost no time in issuing a
manifesto to the stunned, demoralised citizens of Edelweiss. Scores of
criers went through the streets during the long, wretched afternoon,
announcing to the populace that Count Marlanx had established himself as
dictator and military governor of the principality--pending the
abdication of the Prince and the beginning of a new and substantial
regime. All citizens were commanded to recognise the authority of the
dictator; none except those who disobeyed or resented this authority
would be molested. Traffic would be resumed on the following Monday.
Tradespeople and artisans were commanded to resume their occupations
under penalty of extreme punishment in case of refusal. These and many
other edicts were issued from Marlanx's temporary headquarters in the
Plaza--almost at the foot of the still veiled monument of the beloved
Princess Yetive.

Toward evening, after many consultations and countless reports, Marlanx
removed his headquarters to the Tower. He had fondly hoped to be in the
Castle long before this. His rage and disappointment over the stupid
miscarriage of plans left no room for conjecture as to the actual state
of his feelings. For hours he had raved like a madman. Every soldier who
fell into his hands was shot down like a dog.

The cells and dungeons in the great old tower were now occupied by
bruised, defeated officers of the law. Baron Jasto Dangloss, crushed in
spirit and broken of body, paced the blackest and narrowest cell of them
all. The gall and wormwood that filled his soul was not to be measured
by words. He blamed himself for the catastrophe; it was he who had
permitted this appalling thing to grow and burst with such sickening
resu