do you, Mr. Gabriel Nietzel?"

"Do you not mistrust me, too, Sir Count? Have you not taken my Rebecca and
my child as pledges for my keeping my word? Have you not deprived me of
what is most precious to me in this world, not to be restored until I have
fulfilled my oath to you? But what pledge have I that you will keep your
word, and what means have I for forcing you to fulfill your oath to me?"

"You have my word as security--the word of a nobleman, who has never yet
forfeited his pledge," said Count Schwarzenberg solemnly. "I swear to you
that on the day of the banquet your Rebecca and your child shall be at
your lodgings in Berlin, and that you will find them there on your return
from the banquet. I swear this by the Holy Virgin Mary and by Jesus Christ
the only-begotten Son, and in affirmation of my solemn oath I lay my right
hand here upon this crucifix."

The count strode across to his escritoire, and laid his hand upon the
crucifix of alabaster and gold, which stood upon it. "I swear and vow," he
cried, "that next Sunday I shall send to Gabriel Nietzel's lodging his
Rebecca and her child, and that he shall find them there when he returns
from the banquet. Are you content now, Master Gabriel Nietzel?"

"I am content, Sir Count. Farewell! And God grant that we may never meet
again on earth!"

He greeted the count with a passing inclination of his head, and left the
apartment without waiting for his dismissal.

VII.--THE OFFER.

"And now," murmured Gabriel Nietzel to himself, as he stepped out upon the
street--"now for work, without hesitancy and without delay, for there is
no other way of escaping from that cruel tiger who has me in his clutches.
He is athirst for blood, and I must sacrifice to him the blood of another
man in order to save that of my wife and child! But, woe to him, woe, if
he does not keep his word, if he acts the part of traitor toward me! But I
will not think of that, I dare not think of it, for I have need of all my
presence of mind in order to prepare everything. First, I must speak to
the Electoral Prince; that is the most important thing."

He went back to Berlin, and repaired forthwith to the palace. The
Electoral Prince was at home, and the lackey who had announced the court
painter Gabriel Nietzel now reverentially opened for him the door of the
princely apartment.

"Well, here you are, my dear Gabriel," cried the Electoral Prince affably.
"Welcome, to receive my thanks f