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You see well, dear court-painter Nietzel, that you are completely in my hands, and that I can have you strung up at any time, for the Stadtholder makes short work of cheats and perjurers, and sends them off to the gallows, where they belong! Now say, master, will you to the gallows or will you live in honor and joy as the Electress's court painter and my secret pensioner, my open foe?
Mosen, Schönberg, and three or four more were to come with him into the castle, and, when inside, to lock the doors of the Electress's and the servants' room, while the rest were to guard the gates in order that no one should escape to give the alarm. Each was to be ready when once the princes were secured to ride away for Isenburg as hard as possible. Then Kunz whistled softly.
Baron Leuchtmar, who upon the Electress's approach had stepped aside, now crept softly through the apartment to the door, and was already in the act of opening it, when the Electress quickly raised her head and looked around. "Stay where you are, Baron Leuchtmar," she said; "why would you slip away from us?"
"And it will not be made hard for you, master. You go, then, to Holland, introduce yourself to the Electoral Prince through the Electress's letter of recommendation, and try to make yourself as agreeable and charming to him as possible.
A marriage with the daughter of the widowed Electress of the Palatinate with the fair Ludovicka Hollandine." "That would indeed he a fine, plausible marriage!" cried the Elector, starting up. "A Princess of nothing, the daughter of an outlawed Prince, put under the ban by the Emperor!" "But this Prince was the Electress's brother.
Now he stood close to it, leaned against it, and was the old castle so disjointed, or had the Electoral Prince with sudden touch pressed upon the latch? the door flew open. The Electoral Prince fell backward into the antechamber, and, had it not been for the Electress's valet, against whom he stumbled, would have fallen to the ground.
Within this, indeed, lay a small, well-sealed letter. "'To my dear son, the Electoral Prince Frederick William," read the count, with loud voice. "You see, I was not mistaken. It is the Electress's handwriting, and it is directed to the Electoral Prince." "And I have solemnly sworn to give it into no other hands than his," murmured the painter. "You shall keep your oath, Master Gabriel.
He bowed low and reverentially, then strode hastily toward the door. "Gabriel Nietzel, one word more!" called out the count, as the painter stood with his hand already upon the door knob. He turned and slowly came back. "Master Gabriel Nietzel," continued the count, with a mocking laugh, "be so good as to give me the Electress's letter."
The Electress's robe, with its long train of gold brocade, was wondrous to behold, and above it the blue velvet mantle with black ermine trimmings; and how beautifully the diadem of diamonds and sapphires gleamed and sparkled on the brown hair of the Princess!
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