and Francezka seemed mightily contented with the idea. Revenge, as
well as all the other elemental passions, was a part of Francezka
Capello's nature.

Madame Riano, Gaston said, was the same Madame Riano, but a late
fantasy of hers was giving Mademoiselle Capello some anxiety. Madame
Riano had been seized with a raging desire to go to Scotland. She had
a notion that the time was ripe for another uprising against the
Hanoverians; and I believe that woman was capable of raising the clans
and marching at their head to recover for Charles Edward Stuart the
throne of his ancestors. This sudden passion of Madame Riano for
Scotland was very embarrassing for Mademoiselle Capello, because it
would almost force her to seek the protection of a husband, as she had
no intention of forsaking her home in Brabant. I do not think this
decision of Madame Riano's seemed to trouble Gaston Cheverny very
deeply, although he candidly admitted what the consequences would be.
It was plain, however, that his prospects in that quarter were such as
to warrant his taking a certain risk; and I believed he played fast
and loose with the ladies slyly encouraging Madame Riano to go to
Scotland, while ostensibly urging her to remain in Brabant. I asked
him if his brother had yielded the field to him.

"By no means," he replied, "but the only way to make him yield is to
carry the lady off. There is no waiting game to be played in love--one
must be ready to take the hazard of the die at any moment. My brother
is not my only rival--there are scores of others; but I do not count
up my chances of failure--I only count my chances of success. Oh,
Babache, if Francezka Capello should exchange her dower for the
smallpox, it would make no difference to me--" and he quoted to me
that sonnet of Master William Shakespeare's, in which the poet makes
it clear that true love is not Time's fool.

We started next morning, in beautiful summer weather, which lasted us
until we reached Radewitz.

What shall I say concerning the splendors of that place? The
temporary palaces, built of painted and gilded canvas, adorned with
pictures and statues, and surrounded with gardens and shrubberies,
where kings and princes were served from gold and silver plate; where
after the most magnificent military pageants all day long, at evening
came soft and dulcet music, concerts and serenades and even operas;
where all the splendor and beauty in Europe seemed gathered together.
It wa