Chapter XIX: The Favor of a Prince

Dick now seemed to stride towards felicity with seven-league boots. His famous long shot, decidedly the most remarkable given at that afternoon's exhibition of shooting, speedily became famous. His place of abode being learned through Lord George, he was invited to court to receive the thanks of the Landgravine in person, with a present of a jewelled watch and a diamond ring. Returning from the palace to his hotel opposite the glover's, he found awaiting him an equerry with a superb black horse, a gift from the Landgrave. He had no sooner seen this animal stabled, and gone to his room, than he was visited by Count Mesmer, accompanied by a lackey bearing a gold-hilted dress sword, another token of his highness's gratitude. Mesmer then sounded him as to his future, in such a manner as to raise suspicion of Lord George's having dropped a hint in a proper quarter. The next day Dick received an appointment to a post in the Academy of Arts, which favor was to be considered a high one, for the Landgrave was a great patron of the arts and took pride in his museum.

Lord George now departed from Cassel, but Dick did not suffer loneliness. His intimacy with the St. Valiers increased. He saw Gerard every day, and Catherine whenever she came to visit her brother. He made friends among officers and civilians, and he had the constant society of Rembrandts, Van Dycks, Raphaels, Titians, and other creations of Dutch and Italian masters. His duties brought him into frequent presence of the Landgrave, who often visited the picture gallery.

His highness soon showed a pronounced liking for Dick, conversing with him whenever occasion offered, and regarding his freedom of speech and opinion with the amused indulgence that one has for a clever child. People of the court began to see in Dick a possible favorite, and flattered him in his presence, though hating him in their hearts as a successful interloper. It annoyed Dick to know that he was liked by a prince whom every American should hold in enmity; and this annoyance became disgust when his highness, from discussing the pictures of women, would often fall to discoursing upon women themselves. But Dick concealed his feelings, listening in silence to the sovereign's coarse or jocose remarks upon the sex for which that sovereign's weakness was notorious.

Now that his future seemed assured, Dick set about carrying matters forward with Catherine. The first sight of her face, so noble and yet so girlish, so reserved and yet so sincere, so open and yet--from its dark eyes and hair--so mysterious, had reawakened in him a passionate adoration beside which the bygone manifestations of his heart towards Amabel, Collette, and "Amaryllis" were but feeble flutterings. To him all other women became insipid when Catherine reappeared on the scene. Her outward gravity betokened a nature of vast range and unfathomable depth, a book that could not be read through in a day, a book with new beauties and dazzling surprises on every page. He felt that she was the only thing in the universe worth having, and he pressed his suit accordingly. Gerard proved very amiable by finding numerous reasons for sudden absence when Catherine called. She had little coquetry, though much natural reserve; yet, having been secretly disposed in his favor from the first (heaven knows by what undetectable something in his face or manner), she dropped her reserve at last before his oft-repeated "I love you," and, dropping her glance at the same moment, yielded her hand to his. It is only in plays and novels that confessions of love are matters of impassioned declamation or witty dialogue.

Dick told the St. Valiers of his parentage and life, omitting only the episodes of Amabel, Collette, and "Amaryllis." An understanding was reached that Catherine should become his wife at some future time yet to be determined. As Dick was really in love, and so would have turned Mohammedan to possess her, he readily agreed to adopt her religion, as far as a Voltairean could adopt any,--that is to say, in outer appearance only. It was urged by both Catherine and Gerard that the engagement should be kept secret, and Dick, being in mood to grant any conditions without question, readily consented. This interview, like all others between Dick and Catherine since the night of the masquerade, occurred in the back parlor of the glover's house. As usual, Catherine insisted upon returning alone to the palace, which she always entered by a private door.

"Why," said Dick, "may not a lady-in-waiting be seen with her affianced husband and her brother, in the streets? Here are two people soon to be married to each other, yet I'll wager nobody in Cassel, except Gerard, knows they are even acquainted with each other."

"We must have patience," she said, with a smile in which there seemed to be something of sadness. Then, having gravely given him her hand to kiss, she hastened from the room.

Dick and Gerard celebrated the day with a bottle of wine, after which Gerard went on duty and Dick to the Academy of Arts, which was a few steps south of the palace. While there he was sent for by the Landgrave, who greeted him with a patronizing and approving smile, and the words:

"I wish you to call immediately on the treasurer and on the chief equerry, who have orders regarding your conveyance to Dusseldorf. I have a commission for you to execute at the picture gallery there."

Instead of the look of gratitude and pleasure that the Landgrave had expected to see on Dick's face, there was one of blank dejection. To leave Cassel, though for only a week, was not in Dick's plan of happiness at this time. But the Landgrave's order had to be obeyed, and Dick mustered up a gratified expression before it was too late.

The next morning he started on his journey, leaving with Gerard a note for Catherine. The commission was indeed one to be envied; as it was out of all proportion to Dick's infinitesimal knowledge of art, it was the greater evidence of the Landgrave's favor. So Dick cheered himself up; made the acquaintance of the famous collection of that other elderly connoisseur in art and women, Charles Theodore of Bavaria; attended to his business, surrounded himself with the vision of Catherine, and suffused his heart and mind with anticipations of his next meeting with her.

It was growing dark on a November evening, when Dick reentered Cassel. It was past the hour when he might have met Catherine at the glover's house, but he was so hungry for the sight of her, that he decided to attend the usual evening assembly at the palace, on the bare possibility of her being present. He knew that his favor with the Landgrave would secure him admission on his merely sending in his name. He therefore drove at once to his inn, dressed and put on the sword given him by the Landgrave, which custom permitted him to wear at court, and hastened to the palace. It was a little after seven o'clock, and the reception-rooms were full.

To Dick's surprise, one of the first persons he saw was Gerard de St. Valier, in the uniform of a body-guard.

"Why," cried Dick, rushing up to him, and pressing his hand, "you've been transferred, I see! 'Tis the same as a promotion. We are both in good luck."

"Yes," said Gerard, in a constrained manner. He then cast a swift look around, bowed formally, and hastened to another room, making a pretext of being on duty.

Dick gazed after him in amazement. What meant this coldness, this evidence of being ill at ease? Such a reception from Gerard cut Dick to the heart, made a tear start in his eye, and gave him an undefined foreboding.

While he stood thus, there was near him a movement to either side, and a general bowing. He became aware of the Landgrave's approach, just in time to step back from his highness's way. But the Landgrave turned and greeted him with a kindly smile.

"Back from Dusseldorf so soon?" said Frederick II., in his rich and deep, but heavy and guttural, voice.

"The feet move swiftly when they return to where the heart is," said Dick.

The Landgrave, taking this as an expression of attachment to the sovereign presence, smiled paternally; then said:

"I shall send to hear your report to-morrow. The King of Bavaria has fine pictures. He used to be as famous for the fine women he kept, also."

"So I have heard, your highness," replied Dick, with a side glance towards the Landgravine at the farther end of the room, to see if Catherine might be among her highness's ladies.

The Landgrave, again misinterpreting, followed Dick's glance. "Ah," said he, in a low tone, audible to none of those who stood back from him and Dick at respectful distance, "you are thinking that the court of Cassel also is not without its fair ones. And you are right, my clear-eyed Englishman. Like the rest of your race, you will doubtless some day write your recollections of the court of Cassel. Like the rest, you will give a page to the mistresses of the sovereign. Well, tell me if you think any of the ladies that even Louis XIV. delighted to honor, was fit to buckle the shoes of her whom you see standing beneath the picture of Diana yonder."

"Whom do you mean, your highness?"

The Landgrave was too absorbed in his subject to heed the note of wild alarm in Dick's swift question.

"The lady with the black hair and eyes," said the Landgrave, gloating across the distance.

Dick turned cold. "Why," said he, in what faint voice he could command, "I thought your highness's favorite was Mademoiselle F----!"

"King David himself changed his mistress now and then," said the Landgrave.

Mad with grief and humiliation, Dick sprang forward to Catherine de St. Valier--for she it was whom the Landgrave had pointed out--and said:

"Mademoiselle, is it true,--what I am told?"

She gave a start at first seeing him, then stood for a moment in a kind of sudden dismay. This gave way to an expression of surprise, as if he who addressed her were a stranger; and then she turned to hasten from him.

"Ah!" he cried bitterly, in a voice that drew the attention of the whole assembly; for, as consternation had stopped his heart, rage now set it beating fiercely. "It is true, then! Faithless!"

She turned and faced him, with a countenance as pale as death. At that instant Gerard confronted Dick from out of the throng, with cheeks as colorless as Catherine's, and cried out:

"Monsieur, it is of my sister that you speak!"

"You know where to find me, Monsieur de St. Valier!"

At Dick's first words to Catherine, the Landgrave, with a sudden ejaculation and frown, had turned and walked precipitately from the room. The Landgravine, seeing Gerard's movement, had instantly hastened out by another door, that her eyes might not be outraged by a scene. It was the duty of all the guests to follow, and so, as if by magic, while the two young men stood gazing at each other, with Catherine looking on as if turned to marble, the three found themselves alone in the assembly rooms. Gerard was the first to perceive this fact. His face suddenly lost its look of wrathful challenge, and took on one of deep sorrow and concern. "_Mon Dieu!_" he moaned. "We are lost! Oh, Dick, why did you come here? Why didn't you understand?"

"What do you mean? Understand what?" asked Dick, with a sudden fear of having made a terrible false step.

"That it was for your own sake and ours we pretended not to know you," replied Gerard, despairingly. "The Landgrave attributed my sister's repulses to the fact that she loved another. We have tried to conceal who that other was, lest the Landgrave should destroy you; we thought best to keep even our acquaintance with you unknown at court, so lynx-eyed is that evil old lieutenant of police, Rothenstein. But now all is out, and your chance of making your fortune is ruined! Even your life is in peril if you stay in Cassel another hour!"

"Let me understand!" cried Dick. "Repulses, you said?" He turned to Catherine. "Then it is only in the Landgrave's evil hopes, not in fact, that you are his--that you--"

"How can you ask?" said Catherine, with a world of patient reproach in her voice and eyes.

Dick knelt at her feet. "Forgive me!" he said, in a broken voice that could utter no more.

She held out her hand. He pressed it to his lips.

"And what are we to do now?" he asked, rising.

"You must leave Cassel," said Gerard.

"We must all leave Cassel," said Dick.

"It is impossible for us to do so, at present," replied Gerard, in despair. "We have no other resource,--no way of living."

"But the bequest you came from America to receive?"

"We were disappointed of that. Our right has been disputed, and the matter is in the courts."

"Your relations in Quebec, and the estate concerning which you were in Philadelphia?"

"We quarrelled with our uncle in Quebec, and we would die before we would go back to his charity. Our share of the Philadelphia estate was a trifle, and was spent long ago."

"But you must leave Cassel! I shall find a way to provide for us all!"

"You forget," put in Catherine, "that my brother dare not leave without a discharge from the military service. He would be taken as a deserter, and shot. Trust me, Wetheral! I can hold the Landgrave aloof. His caprice will soon pass. You alone are in danger. It is best for us to stay till all can be properly arranged for our future somewhere else."

"Then if you stay, I stay!" said Dick, quietly. "I will act as if nothing had occurred, and await the consequences. After all, the Landgrave alone could have understood my meaning, when my miserable tongue so unjustly assailed you. The others would think my words merely the ravings of an unrequited lover. Yes, I will stay and see what comes of it!"

"Perhaps you are right," said Gerard.

"Thank God, then, we do not have to say farewell!" said Catherine, resting her eyes tenderly on Dick. "I must hasten to the Landgravine. Good night! Trust me,--and be on your guard!"

"I trust you," said Dick, kissing her hand again. "But let the Landgrave take care!"

Dick then took leave of Gerard, whose presence in the palace was a matter of duty and not of privilege, and hastened to his inn.

The next day, he went at the usual hour to his room at the Academy of Arts. In the course of the forenoon he received orders to submit in writing his account of his mission to the Dusseldorf gallery. He was glad that he did not have to report to the Landgrave in person, for he had no desire either to meet that sovereign again or to enter the palace. In the afternoon Catherine came to the glover's house, this time attended by old Antoine, who had accompanied the St. Valiers from Quebec. The attendance of a man-servant was part of a lady-in-waiting's pay, and Catherine had been able to secure Antoine's appointment to her service in the palace. Hitherto, other duties had been allowed to prevent his following her to her brother's. Catherine brought the news that Dick's supposition had proven correct,--the belief in the palace was that his outburst had been merely a disappointed lover's.

In the evening, while Dick was alone in his room, there came a discreet knock at his door. Opening, he let in a man cloaked and muffled, who immediately closed the door in a mysterious and secretive manner. The visitor then turned back his cloak and disclosed the face of Count Mesmer, the callous, self-assertive chamberlain. He was unattended.

"Good evening, Count," said Dick, bracing himself for any evil this visit might portend.

The Count took a chair at one side of a small table on which stood a lighted candle. Dick sat at the opposite side.

"My friend," began the Count, in a half patronizing, half overbearing manner, "that was an unwise explosion at the palace last evening."

"What do you mean?" demanded Dick, ruffling up.

"Oh, be calm! I don't blame you, except for bad judgment. You see, I am one of the few who knew what it all meant. I am a man who keeps his eyes open. I have not been blind to what has been going on between you and the beautiful lady-in-waiting. Neither have I been blind to the intentions of the Landgrave. By knowing that two and two make four, I understood last night's little scene perfectly."

"Then perhaps you have come to explain it to me!"

"Ach, my young friend, you come too quickly to conclusions! Wait and listen, and be not sarcastic! Why do I say last night's explosion was injudicious? Because it could only make matters worse, whereas there was, unknown to you, a secret way of mending them. Why do I speak of the Landgrave's intentions? Because he is as certain to carry them out as it is that this candle burns, if the power shall remain to him. Did any one ever hear of anything ever standing in a prince's way when he wanted a particular woman?"

"It is time then for an exception to the rule."

"And if there shall be an exception in this case, what will cause it?"

"The lady herself," said Dick, half inclined to strike the Count's face across the table.

"The lady herself! Granted that she be a paragon of virtue, do you suppose that the will of an obscure lady-in-waiting will endure long as an obstacle to the desires of a Landgrave of Hesse-Cassel, whose power over his subjects is absolute? What becomes of a woman who resists such power? How long does her life remain tolerable? What happens to those who support her resistance? Do princes have any pity for those who oppose their will, and will Frederick II. have any conscience where his desire to possess a woman is concerned?"

Dick shuddered. He knew what princely consciences were like, and that the sovereigns of Germany, of whatever title, had over their own people unlimited authority.

"But," he said, in a slightly husky voice, "you spoke as if there might be an exception in this case."

"And I asked you what would cause it. You could not tell me. Shall I tell you? Can I trust you?"

"Certainly."

"Do you give me your word of honor that what I am about to say to you shall be kept a secret as inviolable as you would have the honor of your beloved one?"

"Yes,--my word of honor, as a gentleman."

"Then the cause will be this. You know the Landgrave is a Catholic. You know his subjects are Protestants. You can imagine whether they have in their hearts forgiven him for forsaking the religion of his fathers. You know that the hereditary prince has no love--no words, even--for his father, the Landgrave. You know also the Landgrave's reputation in the matter of morality, and that he is nearly sixty. Now, suppose a certain number of the court officers, and of those guards who are on duty about the palace and the city, should one fine day lock his highness in a chamber, place soldiers at the door, and declare the hereditary prince to be Landgrave in his stead."

"Dethrone the Landgrave!"

"It would be merely bringing the Landgrave's son to the throne a few years sooner than he would reach it in the order of nature. Do you fancy he would protest long, when despatches arrived at Hanau, inviting him to Cassel? Remember his feelings towards his father, and that he is already thirty-five years old. Do you think the people would object to a young and virtuous sovereign, who is not an apostate? Do you think the army would hold out in behalf of a Landgrave that hires it out, regiment by regiment, to another nation? What though the hereditary prince does likewise with his troops? Would the soldiers not relish a revenge upon the father, nevertheless? And, if the Landgrave's army should really stand in the way of all this, has not the hereditary prince the troops of Hanau, as well as the Hanoverian regiments there? Perhaps you think other powers would step in to prevent this forced abdication? Then bear in mind that the hereditary prince is the son of the daughter of an English king, and that that princess of England was ill-treated by the Landgrave. It is true, the present Landgravine is a collateral descendant of the house of Prussia, but, when we consider on what terms she lives with her husband, do we not find all the more reason why the King of Prussia should take no hand in the Landgrave's behalf? In fine, my young friend, when the Landgrave is shorn of his power, we shall have nothing to fear from him on the score of our sweethearts!"

And Mesmer leaned back in his chair, with a self-laudatory smile, like an orator who has made his point.

"But," asked Dick, eagerly, leaning forward on the table, to be nearer the Count, "when is all this to be brought about?"

"First tell me, are you willing to do what you can to help bring it about?"

"Willing? I am eager! Tell me what I am to do!"

"You are to broach the matter to your friends whom you can trust, as I have broached it to mine. There is the lady's brother, St. Valier, of the body-guards. As he is often on duty in the palace, he will be of the greatest value to us. He can sound his comrades, and win them over. Then there is Von Romberg, with whom I have often seen you. He can gain us men from his battalion. If things are managed rightly, and the blow is struck at the opportune moment, so that his highness can be held till word gets to Hanau and back, a few details of the body-guards, and three or four companies of the foot-guards, can carry the business through. I will answer for a sufficient number of palace officers."

"But why do you come to me, a foreigner, a man without family or influence?"

"For many reasons. Because you have much at stake, and will contribute zeal, which is a most important factor in a conspiracy. Because you have an ingratiating manner, and can get the ears and confidence of men. Because your post is one on which no eyes are turned, and you can go about unobserved, talking to whom you please, without exciting curiosity."

"I see," said Dick. "Depend upon me, Count. As for what favors this Landgrave has done me--"

"My dear friend, you earned far greater favors when you saved her highness's life! And this I tell you,--if you do not strike the Landgrave, he will strike you! Who knows whether he has not already taken the initiative against you? Many a first blow is really given in self-defence. That is your case, I assure you. And now let us talk of details."

For the next hour this strangely ill-matched pair were deep in the plans of conspiracy. Then Mesmer hastened back to the palace, so as to be seen at the card party, from which he feared he might already have been missed.

* * * * *

Three weeks afterwards,--that is to say, near the end of November,--the Landgrave and his court went hunting in the great forest a few miles southeast of Cassel, between that city and Spangenberg.

Now and then, during the chase, some gentleman or other would drop out, unnoticed, turning his horse into the thick woods. Thus, one by one, a number of gentlemen finally arrived at a ruined Gothic tower, in the midst of a thick copse near the road that ran south from Cassel to Melsungen,--that Melsungen which was thirteen miles south of Cassel.

At intervals, too, horsemen coming from the direction of Cassel, each one stopping and looking carelessly around to see if he were observed, would turn leftward from the road, penetrate the copse, and so arrive at the tower, which was a mere shell of weather-beaten stone, seamed with irregular crevices, and mantled here and there with wild foliage.

Each newcomer, from either direction, tied his horse to a tree, and entered the tower, by its high Gothic doorway. The second man who arrived was challenged by the first, who stood in shadow within the doorway, with the words, "Who comes?" He replied, "Hesse-Hanau," and, thus eliciting the word "Welcome" from the first, went into the shadow. He found that the first man was the chamberlain, Count Mesmer.

"By Heaven," said the second man, gaily, observing the other in a ray of light that entered through a lofty crack in the tower, "you are conspiring in character! A scarlet cloak certainly fits the role." The speaker was a young Frenchman, the Viscount de Rougepont, who jested at all times and places.

"You make a light matter of high treason, Viscount," replied Mesmer, in a somewhat husky voice.

Before the Frenchman could answer, another man was heard advancing over the fallen brown leaves outside the tower. The manner of his admission was the same as that of the Frenchman's. Within a short time, more than a score of men had thus assembled. Two remained on guard immediately inside the doorway. The others, soon accustomed to the half darkness of their meeting-place, proceeded with their business. The secretary, who was none other than Richard Wetheral, called a roll. There was a response to every name but that of Von Romberg.

"He has been detained by the sudden illness of a dear friend, but hopes to join us later in the afternoon. He has authorized me to represent him," said a young gentleman,--Gerard de St. Valier.

"You did not succeed in winning the Baron von Sungen," said Mesmer, addressing Wetheral, in a slightly petulant way.

"He repulsed my very first overtures," said Dick, in explanation, "and bade me, for my own sake, go no farther into the subject with him. I saw that nothing could move his loyalty. It was prudent to stop where I did."

"What a pity!" said Mesmer, with some vexation.

"I thought there was no love between you and Von Sungen," put in De Rougepont.

"What of that?" said Mesmer, quickly. "He could have brought over the entire horse-guards to us. That is why I say, what a pity he is not with us!"

"He is playing hard for the Landgrave's favor," said the Frenchman. "He is dying of love for the Baroness von Luderwaldt, and wants to marry her. So does old Rothenstein, the sweet and chaste minister of police. The Landgrave has the disposal of her hand, and is still undecided whether to make Von Sungen happy or cause old Rothenstein to snivel with ecstasy. Hence Von Sungen's unexampled devotion to his sovereign."

"Gentlemen, we can make better use of the little time we have than by talking court gossip," said Gerard de St. Valier. "As the one who has been chosen by lot to be your presiding officer, I remind you that our meeting is for the purpose of making the final assignments for the action we are to take next Wednesday--"

"Pardon me a moment, monsieur," interrupted one of the conspirators. "You will remember there are three gentlemen here who have not signed the compact. They ought to have opportunity to do so, before our plans are unfolded any farther."

"That is unfortunate," put in the secretary, Wetheral. "It ought to have been thought of when we accepted Count Mesmer's suggestion to leave our compact concealed in my room. The roll I called a few minutes ago was from memory. The three new members may call at my hotel this evening to sign."

"That appears to be the most practicable plan," said Gerard. "The new members, nevertheless, ought to take the oath before we proceed any farther. Let them advance and repeat it after the secretary."

The conspirators were grouped semicircularly at one side of the tower's paved interior. Gerard and Dick stood out a little from the rest, their sides towards the doorway, so as to face the others. Three young officers stepped out from the crowd and stood before Dick, who began to dictate an oath, which they repeated in portions after him. Every gentleman present had brought with him a sword, those not in officer's uniform having small ones, which could be concealed beneath their cloaks. The three new comrades held their right hands upon the hilts of their swords in taking the oath. The ceremony required, at its conclusion, that the whole assembly should raise swords and utter a final pledge in chorus. The two guards at the door, their attention drawn despite themselves to the impressive scene within, grasped their swords as the others did, and moved imperceptibly in from the doorway as the conclusion was neared.

The three recruits echoed Dick's low-spoken phrases in subdued tones. He raised the point of his sword aloft in token that they should do likewise. Up went every sword in the company, flashing back what beams of light strayed through the openings overhead. Eyes, too, flashed with feeling, as all lips united in the closing words:

"And to this end we pledge life and honor!"

The light from the doorway was suddenly cut off, and a voice cried:

"Surrender!"

The conspirators turned towards the doorway in amazement. Three soldiers stood upon the threshold. Behind them was the officer who had called out. In a moment, a score of bayonets appeared beyond him, from one side, and troops were seen massing in among the trees. It was plain that a large force had stolen up with the greatest possible silence. The conspirators were, in fact, confronted by some dismounted horse-guards and a company from the battalion of foot then quartered at Melsungen. He who had demanded their surrender was an officer of the horse-guards.

No one thought of making any pretence of injured innocence. Some looked around to see if there was any hole by which to crawl from the tower. Others stood still, and waited for the arresting party to come in and take them. Mesmer ran farther back into the shadow. Dick saw this movement, and misinterpreted it.

"He sees a way out of the tower," said Dick to his comrades, and ran after Mesmer. The Count stumbled in the darkness, and Dick fell over him. The soldiers at the door, surprised at this movement within, now entered at a run. The conspirators on whom violent hands were first laid resisted on impulse. Thus was brought about a brief scrimmage, whose confusion was increased by the twilight of the place. Two or three men tumbled over Dick. As soon as he could do so, he rose to his feet, clutching mechanically the cloak he thought to be his. Being for a moment out of the hurly-burly, he as mechanically threw this cloak around him. He then ran to the doorway, which the entrance of the horse-guards had left unobstructed, although soldiers were drawn up outside at a short distance from it. As Dick stepped out to the open air, with some wild notion of making a rush, he saw muskets levelled at him.

"Not this one!" cried the commander, sharply, raising his cane with a swift movement to prevent any one's firing. To Dick's further amazement, the troops, a moment later, made an opening in their lines, for him to pass through. He did so with alacrity, traversed the rest of the copse, and ran towards the road from Cassel to Melsungen. He found his horse--the one given to him by the Landgrave--in the wooded gully where he had tied it. Mounting, he was soon in the road.

He now heard a shout at the edge of the copse and saw the same officer who had enabled him to pass. This officer was now violently motioning him to come back, and shouting orders to the same effect.

But Dick waved an "_au revoir_," and started his horse towards Melsungen. A few seconds later several musket-shots rang out from the copse, and he heard the sing of bullets about his head. Looking back, he saw that a number of foot-soldiers were with the officer, who was vehemently ordering a pursuit.

"If I were doing that shooting, the man here in my place would be full of lead by this time," said Dick to himself, as he set his horse galloping towards Melsungen. "There seems to have been some mistake about my departure from the tower. Well, it isn't for me to rectify the errors of the Landgrave's officers!"

And, glancing down at himself, he noticed for the first time that he wore a cloak of bright scarlet, instead of his own, which was of dark blue.