ng
them firmly together.

"Master, no one could discover that it had been opened. Command what
shall be done with it."

"Give it to your servant, that he may return it to him who brought it,
and the latter can now deliver it at its address."

"To the Minister Herzberg!" they both cried, amazed. "It is impossible;
he is a sworn enemy of the holy order and your own heavenly person. He
could take the most violent measures, and cause your excellency to be
arrested."

"I believe it," smiled Cagliostro. "The great Frederick would announce
triumphantly that he had had the great Semiramis of the North taken,
which the Russian police had failed to accomplish. It would be a welcome
triumph for unbelievers and fools, and they would trumpet it joyfully
through the world! It must not be; although my spirit in its power and
might would soon release my body, yet I will not grant this momentary
triumph to my enemies. My time is limited; I must forth to Egypt, where
the Brothers of the Millennium will assemble in the course of a week in
the pyramids, to announce to me their will for the coming century. I
am the Spirit of God, which the Invisibles have willed to enter a human
form, therefore it must be regarded as sacred and protected."

"Allow me to guard, with my life, your sublime person!" cried
Bischofswerder.

"And I also implore you to grant me the happiness to watch over the
security of your heavenly self, and defend it to the last drop of my
blood!" cried Woellner; "only tell us what we have to do."

"Above all things obey my command concerning the letter," replied the
count, smiling.

Bischofswerder submissively went out with the epistle, returning in a
few moments. "It is as you have ordered: in a quarter of an hour it will
be in the hands of Minister Herzberg."

"No," replied the count, fixing his eyes upon empty space, "it will
not be there, for Herzberg is not at home. I now see him driving in a
carriage with four black steeds to the country. At this instant he
is crossing a bridge, now he enters a town, turning down one of the
streets, where the noise of the wheels is lost. Again I hear him,
leaving by the gate, ascending a broad avenue."

"It is the route to Sans-Souci," murmured Bischofswerder, in a low voice,
but the count must have understood him, as he repeated aloud:

"Yes, that is the route to Sans-Souci, and the lonely, fretful old king
will keep his minister the entire day, and will not receive the mi