kindly
motion of the hand; "their majesties are satisfied with you. And now,
farewell; and keep yourself good."

She did not rise, nor offer her hand to Walpurga. She merely nodded in
token of farewell, and Walpurga left.

Although this mode of dismissal was by no means over-gentle or
courteous, it, nevertheless, afforded Walpurga great satisfaction. She
felt as if she had received a sort of honorable discharge. Although
Countess Brinkenstein had ruled with almost military severity, she had
always been the same and could always be relied upon. And this
consistency was not without its due influence on Walpurga's mind.

In Walpurga's room stood two large chests, filled to the very top and
locked. She had received many presents during the year, and enough
money to buy a moderate-sized farm. She would sit down, now on one and
now on the other chest, and when she at last lay down to rest, she
still cast a wistful eye on her treasures. Like wandering spirits, her
thoughts roved through the apartments of the palace, and then to her
cottage at home, through the garden and over the mountains, until she
was suddenly awakened by the crying of the child. She was obliged to
ask herself whether it was her own, or a strange child. She speedily
quieted the prince, but remained beside his cradle. "Sleep shan't steal
another minute of the time that's left us," said she softly.

Day dawned. Walpurga nursed the child for the last time. A tear dropped
on its head; it looked up at her and then fell asleep, resting against
her heart. She whispered softly into its little left hand, which she
held to her lips.

She put the child in the cradle again, fixed one more sad look upon it,
then, with her back turned, walked around the cradle thrice, and, at
last, said to Mademoiselle Kramer:

"I'm going now; it's time."

The servants came and carried the chests away. Walpurga was in so
forgiving a mood, that she even took leave of the Frenchwoman. She did
not look back toward the cradle, but went downstairs, and ordered the
boxes to be carried to an inn near the palace, where she had asked
Hansei to meet her. She thought he would surely be on hand by that
time, for she had told him the very hour when he could meet her. But
Hansei was not there.

Although it was early in the day, there was life and bustle at the inn,
which was frequented by the court servants. There was loud carousing,
and some liveried servants were inveighing against their m