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This will be your dowry." An icy shiver ran up and down Gretchen's spine, a shiver of wonder, delight, terror. A thousand crowns! A fortune! "Hold out your hand," requested Herbeck. One by one he laid the notes on the goose-girl's hand. "This is only a just reward for being kind and gentle to the unfortunate." "And I shall add to it another thousand," said Hildegarde. "Give them to me, father."
Besides, I see in the glass the fine Italian hand of Herbeck. I have always heard that he was a great statesman. Swallow your wrath, even if your tongue goes down with it." "Gretchen, Gretchen!" said the king. Gretchen could stand it no longer. She wrenched herself free from the grasp of the princess, who, with pitying heart, understood all now. Poor unhappy Gretchen!
But never once did he set eyes upon her till she and her father mounted the gang-plank to the vessel which was to carry them across the wide Atlantic. The change in Herbeck was pitiable. His face had aged twenty years in these sixty odd hours.
If all Americans are like him, America will soon become a force in the world. I have taken a fancy to him; and you know what they say of your father no formality with those whom he likes. Humanly, I am right; but in the virtue of everyday events in court life, I am wrong." She moved uneasily. He went on: "Herbeck has spoken of it, the older women speak of it; and they all say "
Ah, if his majesty could but see her, could only know how lovely she is in heart and mind and face! Is she not worthy a crown?" "Herbeck, nothing would please me better, nothing would afford my country greater pleasure and satisfaction, than to see this marriage consummated. It would nail that baseless lie which has so long been current." "I believe you. We two peoples should be friendly.
"That is my business, your Excellency." "Good luck to you!" responded Herbeck, with a gesture of dismissal. When her highness came in from her morning's ride she found the duke waiting in her apartments. "Why, father," kissing him, "what brings you here?" "A little idea I have in mind." He drew her down to the arm of the chair. "We all have our little day-dreams." "Who does not, father?"
In a flash he saw vividly all this man had undergone, day by day, unfaltering, unhesitant, forgetting nothing, remembering everything but the one insignificant item which was to overthrow him. He felt that he was confronted with a great problem; what to do with the man? Prince Ludwig took off his hat. "Herbeck, you are a great politician." "No, prince," replied Herbeck, with ineffable sadness.
The duke stirred the papers angrily, took one of them and spread it out with a rasp. "Look at that. Whose writing, I ask?" Herbeck adjusted his glasses and scrutinized the slanting hieroglyphics. He ran over it several times. At length he opened a drawer in his desk, sorted some papers, and brought out a yellow letter. This he laid down beside the other. "Yes, they are alike.
But the duke and the chancellor held the secret, unknown to any one else a locket. In a garret in Dresden the agents of Herbeck found her, a singer in the chorus of the opera.
Herbeck picked it up and worked out the creases. When he had read to the final word, his hand, even as the duke's, closed spasmodically over the stiff paper. "Well?" The query tingled with rage. The answer on the chancellor's lips was not uttered. Hildegarde came in. She blew a kiss at her father, who caught the hand and drew her toward him. He embraced her and kissed her brow.
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