st
seven, and we shall be out of the lodge again, with Chancellor von
Breitstein a sadder and a wiser man than he went in."

Meekness was once more the part for the old man to play, and raising
his hands, palm upwards, in a gesture of generous indulgence for his
young sovereign, he denied himself the pleasure of retort.

The hunting lodge in the wood, now the property of the Chancellor's
accommodating young friend, had until recently belonged to a Rhaetian
semi-Royal Prince, who had been compelled by lack of sympathy among
his creditors to sell something, and had promptly sold the thing he
cared for least. The present owner was a keen sportsman, and though he
came seldom to the place, had spent a good deal of money in repairing
the quaint, rustic house.

Years had passed since the Emperor had done more than pass the lodge
gates; and now the outlines of the low rambling structure looked
strange to him, silhouetted against a spangled sky. He was glad of
this, for he had spent some joyous days here as a boy, and he wished
to separate the old impressions and the new.

Two tall chimneys stood up like the pricked ears of some alert,
crouching animal. The path to the lodge gleamed white and straight in
the darkness as a parting in the rough black hair of a giant. The
trees whispered gossip to each other in the wind, and it seemed to
Leopold that they were evil things telling lies and slandering his
love. He hated them, and their rustling, which once he had loved. He
hated the yellow eyes of the animal with the pricked ears, glittering
eyes which were lighted windows; he hated the young Prince who owned
the place; and he would have hated the Chancellor more than all, had
not the old man limped as he walked up the path, showing how heavy was
the burden of his years, as he had never shown it to his Emperor
before.

The path led to a hooded entrance, and ascending the two stone steps,
the Chancellor lifted the mailed glove which did duty as a knocker.
Twice he brought it down on the oak panel underneath, and the sound of
metal smiting against wood went echoing through the house, with an
effect of emptiness and desolation.

Nobody came to answer the summons, and Leopold smiled in the darkness.
He thought it likely that even the Prince was not at home. A practical
joke had been played on the Chancellor!

Again the mailed fist struck the panel; an echo alone replied. Count
von Breitstein began to be alarmed for the success o