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Updated: May 19, 2025
"Easily. I wish to leave a sum of money in trust, to be paid to one Gretchen Schwarz, who lives in the Krumerweg. She is ambitious to become a singer. Let nothing stand between her and her desires." "Granted." The heart of the king, at the sound of that dear name, suddenly expanded and stifled him. The stiffness went out of his shoulders.
Then he muttered: "Krumerweg, crooked way, number forty. If I see this old side-paddler stopping at the palace steps again, I'll take a look at number forty myself." On the return to the hotel the station omnibus had arrived with a solitary guest. A steamer trunk and a couple of bags were being trundled in by the porter, while the concierge was helping a short, stocky man to the ground.
"Oh, Highness!" cried the girl, breathless from her recent endeavors and overcome with the grandeur of the two ducal effigies in her hand. She had seen the grand duke times without number, but she had never yet been so near to him. And now he had actually spoken to her. It was a miracle. She would tell them all that night in the dark old Krumerweg.
"You say she wore the costume of a Gipsy child when you lost her?" said the duke. "Yes." Von Arnsberg took from under his coat a small bundle which he opened with shaking fingers. He had been in the Krumerweg that afternoon. "Why, those are mine!" exclaimed Gretchen excitedly. "You see?" said Von Arnsberg. "Would you not like to be a princess, Gretchen?" A princess? Gretchen's heart fluttered.
"Whatever betide, Lieberherz, whatever befall." And he embraced her with a fierce tenderness, and so strong was he in the moment that Gretchen gave a cry. He kissed her, not on the lips, but on the fine white forehead, reverently. They proceeded, Gretchen subdued and the vintner silent, until they came to the end of their journey at number forty in the Krumerweg.
"Where did you take the chancellor to-night?" he asked. "Du lieber Gott! Was that his excellency? He said he was the chief steward." "So he is, my friend. I was only jesting. Where did you take him?" "I took him to the Krumerweg. He was there half an hour. Number forty." "Where did you take the veiled lady?" The coachman drew in suddenly and apprehensively. "Herr, are you from the police?"
Herbeck was a strong man; he was always far removed from tears; but there was a mist over the usual clarity of his vision. He ripped down the flap. It was only a simple note to her serene highness, begging her to give the enclosed banknotes to one Gretchen who lived in the Krumerweg. The notes represented a thousand crowns. "Take them, little goose-girl," said the duke; "your ship has come in.
And the thing which struck him with most force was that, while each possessed a beauty individual to herself, it was not opposite, but strangely alike. The goose-girl had returned to her gloomy Krumerweg, the princess had gone to her apartments, and Herbeck to his cabinet. The duke was alone. For a long period he stood before the portrait of his wife.
Marking the first crook in the Krumerweg was an ancient lamp hanging from the side of the wall. The candle in this lamp burned night and day, through winter's storms and summer's balms. The flame dimmed and glowed, a kindly reminder in the gloom. It was a shrine to the Virgin Mary; and before this Gretchen paused, offering a silent prayer that the Holy Mother preserve this dream of hers.
The musicians were putting away their instruments, the crowd was melting, the attendants were stacking the chairs, so the two lovers went out of the gardens toward the town and the Krumerweg. Meanwhile Carmichael had lectured the policeman, who was greatly disturbed. "Your Excellency, I am sure Colonel von Wallenstein meant no harm." "Are you truthfully sure?"
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