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Updated: May 9, 2025
Niburg, then, was the spy of the cathedral. Nikky reflected. Suddenly he saw a way out. It was, he afterward proclaimed, not his own thought. It came to him like a message. He burned a candle to his patron saint, sometime later, for it. "The man Niburg had had an unfortunate experience, sir.
There was no mistake. And Peter Niburg had put away the silk, and pocketed the letter, after a swift glance over the little shop. An intrigue, then, with Peter Niburg as the go-between, or something else. Something vastly more important, the discovery of which would bring Herman prominence beyond his fellows in a certain secret order to which he belonged.
She put down the dreary embroidery with which she filled the drearier evenings, and moved to the window. She walked quietly, like a cat. Her first words to Hedwig were those of Peter Niburg as he linked arms with his enemy and started down the street. "A fine night, Highness," she said. Hedwig raised her eyes to the stars. "It is very lovely."
And the Countess had sat in a chair by a window, and said nothing. She sent away food untasted, took no notice of the packing, and stared, hour after hour, ahead of her. Certain things were clear enough. Karl could not now be reached by the old methods. She had, casting caution to the winds, visited the shop where Peter Niburg was employed.
The people love the boy Prince. And without the people revolution can accomplish nothing." "Nothing at all," assented Peter Niburg. "I think," Nikky observed, finding his companion unresponsive, "that, after I see you safely home, I shall report this small matter to the police. Surely there cannot be in the city many such gorillas as our friend with the beard and the huge body."
"He would escape," said Peter Niburg scornfully. "He is of the type that runs." He lapsed into sullen silence. Soon he paused before a quiet house, one of the many which housed in cavernous depths uncounted clerks and other small fry of the city. "Good-night to you," said Peter Niburg. Then, rather tardily. "And my thanks. But for you I should now " he shrugged his shoulders.
The boy would not forget, as he himself had not forgotten. His hand, thrust into his pocket, rested on the faded daguerreotype there. Peter Niburg was shot at dawn the next morning. He went, a coward, to his death, held between two guards and crying piteously. But he died a brave man. Not once in the long hours of his interrogation had he betrayed the name of the Countess Loschek.
His fair hair bristled with excitement. He flung out arms that were both furious and strong, and with each blow the group assumed a new formation. Unluckily, a great deal of the fighting was done over the prostrate form of Peter Niburg. Suddenly one of the group broke away, and ran down the street.
But, he reflected, many things were going on in the old city in these troubled days. Came to Nikky, all at once; that this man on his arm might be one of the hidden eyes of Government. "These are difficult times," he ventured, "for those who are loyal." Peter Niburg gave him a sidelong glance. "Difficult indeed," he said briefly. "But," said Nikky, "perhaps we fear too much.
His passion for her was dead, but for a long time he had loved her, and now, in sheer regret, he drew her to him. "Poor girl," he said softly. "Poor girl!" And drew his hand gently over her hair. She shivered at his touch. "I can never go back," she said brokenly. But at that he freed her. "That would be to confess before you are accused," he reminded her. "We do not know that Niburg told.
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