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"And fatuous fool that this uncle was, he committed an almost irreparable blunder. He tried to marry his nephew." "I understand. But if you are discovered here?" "That is not likely." "Ah, Ludwig, it is not the expected that always happens. Be careful; you know the full wording of Herbeck's treaty." "Herbeck; there's a man," said Herr Ludwig admiringly. "To have found her highness as he did!"
"What is it, father?" Herbeck waited. "Read," said the duke. As the last word left Herbeck's lips, she slipped from her father's arms and looked with pity at the chancellor. "What do you think of this, Hildegarde?" "Why, father, I think it is the very best thing in the world," dryly. "An insult like this?" The duke grew rigid. "You accept it calmly, in this fashion?"
Gretchen's eyes roamed undecidedly from the duke to Herbeck. "She is dead, Highness, and I found this letter under her pillow." It was Herbeck's hand that took the envelope. But he did not open it at once. "Dead?" Hildegarde's eyes filled. "Who is dead?" demanded the duke. "Emma Schultz, father. Oh, I know you will forgive me for this deception.
Herbeck's eyes wandered to the portrait over the fireplace. It was the girl's mother. The knock of the valet was again heard. "Your Highness, there is a young woman, a peasant, who desires to speak to her serene highness." "Where is she?" asked the duke. "She is outside, your Highness." "What! She enters the palace without any more trouble than this?"
His clothes, the same he had worn that ever-memorable night, hung loosely about his gaunt frame, and there was a vacancy in his eyes which was eloquent of mental collapse. The girl quietly and tenderly guided him to the deck and thence to his stateroom. Carmichael abided his time. A French newspaper contained a full account of Herbeck's coup and his subsequent flight.
"That is the hand, Highness," said the Gipsy, without hesitation. The duke flung the hand aside. As he did so something snapped in Herbeck's brain, though at that instant he was not conscious of it. "It was you, you! It was your hand that wrecked my life, yours! Ah, is there such villainy? Are such men born and do they live? My wife dead, my own heart broken, Arnsberg ruined and disgraced!
"Count, Herr Carmichael tells me that he is soon to leave Dreiberg." "Ah!" There was satisfaction in Herbeck's ejaculation, satisfaction of a frank order. But there was a glint of admiration in his eyes as he recognized the challenge in Carmichael's. He saw that he must step carefully in regard to this hot-headed young Irishman. "We shall miss Herr Carmichael."
"Can you realize how difficult it is not to take you by the throat and strangle you here and now?" "He is mad!" said Herbeck, bracing himself against the desk. "Yes. I am mad, but it is the sane madness of a terribly wronged man. Come here, you Gipsy!" The duke seized Herbeck's hand and pressed it down fiercely on the desk. "Look at that and tell me if it is not the hand of a Judas!"
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