is heart, and pressed warm, glowing kisses on that
ravishing arm, which seemed to quiver and tremble at the touch of his lips.

"My shoe," she breathed softly--"give me my shoe!"

"Never!" said he energetically. "No, I swear it, so truly as I love you, I
shall never give back to you this precious jewel. Mine it remains, and not
for all the treasures of the earth do I give it back again. Here, on my
heart, it shall rest, the charming little shoe, and when I die it shall
rest beside me in my coffin."

"No, no, I will have it again!" cried Ludovicka. "My heavens! what would
my chambermaid say, if to-morrow morning one of my shoes had
vanished--been spirited away?"

"Let her say and think what she pleases, dearest. Tell her you will direct
her where to find it on the day after to-morrow. Think you not that when
our flight is discovered, she will readily guess who has stolen your shoe?"

"But see, Frederick, see my poor foot; it is freezing, pining for its
house!"

And smilingly Ludovicka extended toward the Prince her shoeless little
foot. He took it between his hands and breathed on it with his glowing
breath, and pressed upon it his burning lips.

"Forgive me, you beautiful foot, for having robbed you of your house. But
look you, dear foot, the little house shall now become a sacred memento of
my love and my betrothal; and look you, dear foot, I swear to you that you
shall walk in pleasant paths. I shall strew flowers for you, you shall
tread upon roses, and not a thorn shall prick you and not a stone bruise
you. That I swear to you, you little foot of the great enchantress, and
therefore forgive me my theft!"

"It shook its head, it will not!" cried Ludovicka, swinging her foot to
and fro.

"It shall forgive, or I will punish its mistress!" cried the Prince, while
he sprang up, ardently encircling his beloved with his arm. "Yes, you
shall pay me for your cruel foot, and--"

All at once he became silent, and, hearkening, looked toward the wall.
Ludovicka shrank back, and turned her eye to the same spot.

"Is there, a door there?" whispered he.

"Yes," she breathed softly, "a tapestry door leading to the small
corridor, and thence into my sleeping apartment."

"Is any one in your sleeping room?"

"My little cousin, Louisa of Orange, who came to-day, and insisted upon
staying here--Hush, for God's sake! she is coming. Hide yourself!"

He flew across the room and jumped behind the door curtain, through which