He fell upon his knees before the queen, humbly supplicating her to
repent her decision.

"I will not give it to you," said she, with a triumphant smile. "I do
not move from this door; it shall not be opened."

General Wylich rose from his lowly position. He was pale, but there was
a resolute expression upon his countenance. Looking upon it, you could
not but see that he was about to do something extremely painful to his
feelings.

"Queen of Poland," said he, in a loud, firm voice, "I am commanded by
my king to bring to him the state archives. Below, at the castle gate,
wagons are in attendance to receive them; they are accompanied by a
detachment of Prussian soldiers. I have only to open that window, sign
to them, and they are here. In the antechamber are the four officers who
came with me; by opening the door, they will be at my side."

"What do you mean by this?" said the queen, in a faltering voice, moving
slightly from the door.

"I mean, that at any price, I must enter that room. If the key is not
given to me, I will call upon my soldiers to break down the door; as
they have learned to tear down the walls of a fortress, it will be an
easy task; that if the Queen of Poland does not value her high position
sufficiently to guard herself against any attack, I will be compelled to
lay hands upon a royal princess, and lead her by force from that door,
which my soldiers must open! But, once more, I bend my knee, and implore
your majesty to preserve me from this crime, and to have mercy on me."

And again he fell upon his knees supplicating for pity.

"Be merciful! be merciful!" cried the queen's confessor and the Countess
Ogliva, who both knew that General Wylich would do all that he had said,
and had both fallen on their knees, adding their entreaties to his.
"Your Majesty has done all that human power can do. It is now time
to guard your holy form from insult. Have mercy on your threatened
royalty."

"No, no!" murmured the queen, "I cannot! I cannot! Death would be sweet
in comparison to this humiliating defeat."

The queen's confessor, Father Guarini, now rose from his knees, and,
approaching the queen, he said, in a solemn, commanding voice:

"My daughter, by virtue of my profession, as a servant of the holy
mother church, to whom is due obedience and trust, I command you to
deliver up to this man the key of this door."

The queen's head fell upon her breast, and hollow, convulsive groans
escaped her.