ift. In a year I had made such an assault as that of
the inn at Erdberg an impossibility all along the marches of our
provinces.

The crusty old councillor, Leopold Dessauer, who had held office under
the last Prince of the legitimate line, was ever ready to assist me with
the kindest of deeds and the bitterest and saltest of words.

"What did I tell you about being Field-Marshal?" said he one day--"in
Karl's kingdom the shorter the service, the higher the distinction.
If you and the Prince live long enough, I shall see you carry a
musketoon yet, and not one of the latest pattern, either. You will be
promoted down, like a booby who has been raised by chance to the top
of the class!"

"Well," said I, humbly, for I always reverenced age, "then I hope,
High-Chancellor Dessauer, that I shall carry my musketoon as becomes a
brave man!"

"I do not doubt it!" said he. "And that is the most hopeful thing I have
seen about you yet. It is just possible, on the other hand, that you may
yet rule and the Prince carry the piece."

"God forbid!" said I, heartily. For next to my own father, of all men I
loved the Prince.

"The Princess hath a pretty hand," remarked Dessauer casually, as if he
had said, "It will rain to-morrow!"

"I' faith, yes!" said I; "what have you been at to find out that?"

"Weak--weak!" he said, shaking his head. "I fear you will wreck on that
rock. It is your blind peril!"

"My blind peril!" cried I. "What may that be, High Councillor?"

"Ah, lad," he said, smiling with that wise, all-patient smile which the
aged affect when they mean to be impressive, yet know how useless is
their wisdom, "it was never intended by the Almighty that any man should
have eyes all round his head. That is why He fixed two in front, and made
them look straight forward. That is also why He made us a little lower
(generally a good deal lower) than the angels!"

I heard him as if I heard him not.

"You do me the honor to follow me?" he said, looking at me. He was, I
think, conscious that my eyes wandered to the door, for indeed I was
expecting the Little Playmate to come down every minute.

"Ah! yes, you follow indeed," he said, bitterly, "but it is the trip of
feet, the flirt of farthingales down the turret steps. No matter! As I
was saying, every man has his blind peril. He can see the thousand. He
provides laboriously against them. He blocks every avenue of risk, he
locks every dangerous door, and lo! there is the tho