your highness. The paymaster has not distributed to us our wages for two months, so that none of us has a groschen in his pocket. When we reached Berlin, three days ago, Jocelyn found his old mother miserably sick and well-nigh starved, for the Imperialists have thoroughly pillaged Berlin, and robbed the old woman of her last possession. She had nothing to eat, and still less could she afford to send for a doctor and buy medicines. So, in his desperation, Jocelyn went to the paymaster and begged of him his month's wages, but was told that he could have nothing now, because the journey from Prussia here had cost so much money that all the coffers were empty; but that in the course of eight days the paymaster might be in funds again, and that then we should all have what was due us. But, on account of his old mother, Jocelyn could not wait, and so in desperation went off and sold his new livery coat to an old-clothes man, and carried the money to his mother. And for that reason, your Electoral Grace, poor Jocelyn now sits in the guardhouse."

The Elector had turned away, and gazed from the window down into the pleasure garden, the branches of whose green trees nearly touched the windows of the apartment. He could no longer meet the glance of the lackey Conrad; he would not have him witness his mortification and the painful twitchings of his mouth. But after a while he turned again to old Conrad, who had crept softly toward the door, not venturing to go out without permission from his master.

"You see well, old man," said the Elector confidentially, "that our affairs are not in so prosperous a condition as formerly when you entered my service, and were the body servant of the merry, cheerful young Electoral Prince. Now that Electoral Prince has become a very sad, serious, and poverty-stricken Elector, who has lived through much affliction, and must content himself, despite his glorious title, with being a poor tormented man, and therefore also a peevish man. I was once otherwise; that you know. But debts make the wildest tame and the most joyous fretful, as you see in me, old Conrad. But now listen!"

He stepped to his writing table and drew forth a long purse with meshes of green silk and gold. Carefully counting, he shook some money out of the purse into his hand and then handed it to Conrad.

"Conrad, there are twelve dollars. Do you know the Jew to whom Jocelyn sold his livery coat?"

"Yes, I know him, your highness."

"Then go, Conrad, and buy back the coat. How much did the Jew pay for it?"

"Six dollars, your Electoral Highness."

"Return him five dollars for it, and tell him that the dollar subtracted is by way of punishment for his having dared to purchase the coat of one of the servants belonging to the electoral household, for he must know that it is not the lackey's but electoral property. But if the Jew ventures to grumble, then say to him that I shall have him watched and his false dealings inquired into. When you have obtained the coat, carry it to the master of the wardrobe, and tell him to release Jocelyn from the guardhouse and permit him to wear his coat again. Say to him that it is my command. And now go and attend to this matter for me."

"Forgive me, your Electoral Grace, but I know not yet what to do with the rest of the money. When I shall have redeemed Jocelyn's coat with five dollars, there will yet remain seven dollars besides, and I beg of your highness to point out what disposition I must make of them."

"What wages do the lackeys receive by the month?"

"One rixdollar and four groschen, your highness!"

"That makes four dollars and sixteen groschen owing to you and Jocelyn, since the paymaster is in your debt for two months' wages. There will still be a remainder of two dollars and eight groschen, which you must give to Jocelyn to take to his old mother, not, however, as if it came from me, but as his own gift."

"Ah! your Electoral Highness, what a kind, gracious master you are!" cried

Conrad, with tears in his eyes. "Only extend this one act of goodness and condescension: permit your old Conrad to kiss your hand and thank you for the favor your highness has shown to Jocelyn and myself, and be not offended at your old servant for asking such a thing, since it is only out of love and hearty respect."

"I know it, Conrad, I know it," said the Elector, reaching out his hand to the old man, and permitting him to press it to his lips. "I know your good, faithful heart, which has never swerved from its duty these twenty years that you have been in my service. Go now, old man, and do as I have bidden you. But hear! No one need know that I have paid you and Jocelyn your month's wages, for then they would all come to be paid by me; and the paymaster was quite right—our coffers are empty, and we must take account of everything until they are filled again. Keep silent, then, both of you. I shall tell the paymaster myself that I have just meddled a little in his affairs.

"But now, hear one thing more, Conrad. Go straightway across into Broad Street, to the house of his excellency the Stadtholder in the Mark, Count von Schwarzenberg. We request his excellency to take the trouble to come immediately to us. Say from me that we have weighty business to transact with him that admits of no delay. Therefore, we entreat his excellency to come hither forthwith."

"Pardon, your highness," said Conrad, anxiously and confusedly; "my dresscoat is still at the court tailor's. Must I go across in my jacket? At the Stadtholder's everything is so fearfully fine and stately. The lackeys, too, put on such airs that an electoral lackey can not stand up to them at all; they are, besides, haughty, supercilious fellows, who think themselves very grand, and fancy they are something quite uncommon, and almost more than one of us, who are court lackeys to your highness. Would it not make the fellows rejoice to see me in this jacket and—"

"Never mind; go across in your jacket," said the Elector, laughing. "Remember always that you are the servant of the master, and those spruce fellows but the lackeys of the servant, although I must say that the servant is a much richer, more magnificent man than his master. Run and bring the Stadtholder to me!"

III.—COUNT ADAM VON SCHWARZENBERG.

"I thank you, Master Gabriel Nietzel, I thank you with my whole heart, for you have indeed prepared me a great pleasure," cried Count Adam von Schwarzenberg, at the same time nodding pleasantly to the young man who stood beside him. Then he was lost again in contemplation of the picture before which they both stood, and which was mounted upon an easel in one of the deep bay windows of the lofty apartment.

"I well knew that my most gracious lord would take pleasure in this glorious work of art," said Master Gabriel Nietzel, smiling, "and therefore have I spared neither expense, toil, nor danger in bringing to your excellency this noble painting of the great Italian master."

"And I am astonished that you have succeeded, master," exclaimed the count, changing his position before the picture, in order to examine it in a new light, from a different point of view.

"Most gracious sir, if I had had in the box which I guarded so closely hams or other edibles, instead of this picture, or even articles of clothing or munitions of war, then surely I should have failed in bringing it here from Italy, considering all the bands of soldiers and robbers who fly through the German empire now, like a swarm of bees, and like locusts leave in their train, wherever they alight, want and wretchedness."

"Yes, yes," cried Count Schwarzenberg, with a short,