. Mme.
Mara had sent an excuse that she was sick, but a laconic notice from her
royal patron insisted that she was to get well and sing her best. So the
prima donna took to her bed and grew worse and worse. Two hours before
the opera commenced, a carriage escorted by eight soldiers drew up
in front of the house, and the captain of the guard, unceremoniously
entering her room, intimated that she must go to the theatre dead or
alive.

"You can not take me," she said with tears of rage; "you see I am in
bed."

"That's of little consequence," was the imperturbable response; "we'll
take you bed and all."

Madame's eyes flashed fire, and she stormed with fury; but the obdurate
captain could not be moved, and, to avoid the disgrace of being taken by
force, she accepted an armistice. "I will go to the theatre," she said,
mentally resolving to sing as badly as, with a magnificent voice and
irreproachable taste, she could possibly manage. Resolutely she kept to
this idea till the curtain was about to descend on the first act, when a
thought suddenly seized her. Might she not be ruining herself in giving
the Grand Duke of Russia a bad opinion of her powers? In a bravura she
burst forth with all her power, distinguishing herself especially by a
marvelous shake, which she executed with such wonderful art as to call
down thunders of applause.

At last the Maras succeeded in effecting their escape by stratagem.
In passing through one city they were stopped by an officer of _gens
d'armes_, who demanded the requisite papers. Faltering with dread, yet
with quick self-possession, Mme. Mara handed him a letter in the royal
handwriting. The signature was enough, and the officer did not stop to
read the body of the letter, but turned out the guard to honor travelers
possessing such signal proofs of the King's favor. They had just
gained the gates of Dresden when they found that the Prussian _charge
d'affaires_ resided in the city. "No one can conceive my agitation and
alarm," said Mme. Mara, "when, in one of the first streets we entered,
we encountered the said _charge d'affaires_, who rode directly up to
us. He had been apprised of our arrival, and the chaise was instantly
stopped. As to what took place between him and my good man, and how the
latter contrived to get out of the scrape, I was totally unconscious.
I had fallen into a swoon, from which I did not recover till we had
reached our inn." At length they reached the confines of