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Updated: June 6, 2025
The doctor even made as if he would rush from the room as when in the Nameless Castle the furious invalid had seized his groom by the throat. The expressions on the three startled countenances brought a sudden fear to Ludwig's heart. "Is any one ill here?" he asked. The vice-palatine and the doctor looked at each other, but did not speak; the surveyor began to stammer: "I say I say that "
The secret door swung quietly open, laying Ludwig's face to the wall, and in the aperture stood my amazing neighbour, as lovely a portrait as you'd see in a year's trip through all the galleries in the world. She was smiling down upon us from the slightly elevated position, a charming figure in the very latest Parisian hat and gown.
Thus, the next morning, they rode out, the king and queen with their retinue, the princess attended by one of her guard, named Christian Hantz, who was greatly attached to her, and most jealous in praise and admiration of her. This fellow had taken on himself to be very angry with Prince Ludwig's coldness, but dared say nothing of it.
We find this relationship still stronger in Otto Ludwig's "Buschnovelle," briefly referred to earlier, which I add here, though it really does not directly treat of our problems. The heroine Pauline passed with many as moon struck and her blue eyes "have a strange expression of their own.
"Who is she?" asked the princess. But Ludwig's eyes had wandered back to the couch, and he answered only: "My God, it will kill her!" "I care not," said Osra. But then came another low moan. "I care not," said the princess again. "Ah, she is in great suffering!" And her eyes followed the prince's.
The little maid returned to her room, took off her wet clothes, and lay down on the bed; but she could not sleep. Every hour she rose, threw on her wrapper, thrust her feet into her slippers, and stole to the door of Ludwig's room to whisper: "How is he now, Henry?" "He is sleeping quietly," Henry would answer encouragingly.
We spent hours in the Englischergarten, sitting on the banks of the Isar; often took the train to the beautiful Isarthal and spent the day in the woods; or sailed on one of the lakes with the tumbled glittering peaks of the Alps always in sight. We visited Ludwig's castles together, attended peasants' festivals in the mountains, lunching in some dilapidated old garden of a Gasthaus.
"Oh, pray understand me," in a pleading voice interposed Marie, passing her trembling fingers over Ludwig's cheek. "Not one drop of heroic blood flows in my veins. I am not the offspring of those great women who crowned with their own hands their knights to send them into battle. I dread to lose you, Ludwig; I have no one in this wide world but you.
It was the appearance of the first head that had called forth a cry from one of the British that had attracted von Ludwig's attention. Wheeling quickly, von Ludwig saw the Germans dash from below. With a quick cry to the others, he drew his revolver and fired. One man toppled over. The odds against the British were one less; but the others sprang forward.
Ludwig seized an oar with both hands to crush the monster's head; but the heavy blow fell on the water. The creature had vanished underneath the boat, and only the motion of the water on the other side indicated the direction it had taken. Terror and rage had benumbed Ludwig's nerves. What was it? Who had sent this nameless monster after his carefully guarded treasure?
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