ed from the dark and threatening
sky.

But only for a moment.

Berlin suddenly burst into a blinding glare of light. Unter den
Linden from end to end--excepting only the royal palaces--with
its long line of imposing public buildings, hotels, and shops,
the Kaiser-Franz-Joseph-Platz, the Zeugplatz, the Lustgarten--the
Schlossplatz--all the magnificent expanse from the Brandenburg gate to a
quarter of a mile beyond the river Spree--had been strung and looped
with electric lights, and the scene looked as if touched with a royal
fairy's wand. The side streets from the Royal Library and the old Kaiser
Wilhelm palace as far as the Schlossbruecke, were also brilliantly
illuminated.

And in all these streets and squares women stood in close ranks, silent,
phlegmatic women, with pistols in their belts and rifles with fixed
bayonets on their shoulders, the steel reflecting the terrific downpour
of light with a steady and menacing glitter. These women wore gray
uniforms and there were shining Prussian helmets on their heads.

In every window was a double row of women, armed; and the housetops were
crowded with them. There were also machine guns on the roofs, pointing
downward or toward the roof of the palace.

Mariette laughed. "Theatric enough to please even his taste? Our last
tribute. Let us hope he will enjoy it."

A moment later the expected happened. A window of the palace overlooking
the great Schlossplatz opened and the Emperor stepped out into the
narrow balcony. His uniform was caked with dust and mud and his face was
drawn with a mortal fatigue; but as he stood there scowling haughtily
down upon that upturned sea of woman's faces, the most singular vision
that ever had greeted imperial eyes, he was an imposing figure enough
to those who knew that he was the Kaiser Wilhelm II, King of Prussia and
Alsace-Lorraine, and Emperor in Germany.

It was evident that he had no intention of speaking, but expected this
grotesque mob to be overwhelmed by the imperial presence and dissolve.

Frau Kathie Meyers, with the figure of an Amazon and the voice of a
megaphone, stepped forth from the ranks and lifted her placid red face
to the balcony.

"You will abdicate, William Hohenzollern," she announced in tones that
rolled down toward the Brandenburg gate like the overtones of a Death
Symphony at the Front. "Germany is a Republic. And the palace is mined.
If your soldiers fire one shot from the windows the palace goes up to