they did not convey him home, but placed him instead in one of the King's rooms, where he was watched over by the giant Cojanus, who received orders not to let him return home, should he unexpectedly come to his senses.

Having got rid of him, they continued their carouse.

The King was now in an excellent humour, and the radiance of his countenance was reflected in the faces of his courtiers. Day was already dawning when two lackeys carried Augustus the Strong to bed. He had succumbed last of all, except Fürstenberg, who, taking off his wig to cool his head, grew thoughtful, and muttered to himself,--

"So we shall have a new ruler, then. Lubomirska meddled too much with politics. She wished to subdue the king, but he does not require a mistress with brains! She has to love him, and amuse him; that is all her business. Now we shall see the Countess Hoym!"

CHAPTER II.

Laubegast is situated on the banks of the river Elbe, two hours' ride from Dresden. It is a small village, containing only a few better-class dwellings, and these are hidden from view among old linden trees, and tall, black pines.

Count Hoym's villa was built in the French style, and ornamented as well as its modest size permitted. It was evident that its owner bestowed great care on the beauty of his house. The small courtyard was surrounded by an iron railing. Seen through the sheltering trees, the house looked like some lordly residence, but it was as quiet as a monastery.

There were no signs of gaiety about it. Two old lackeys and a few servants might be seen from time to time, walking near the house, and occasionally, towards evening, a lady would come forth, on whom the population of Laubegast would gaze with admiration, but always from behind the shelter of the bushes.

In truth, no one in the neighbourhood had ever before seen such a beautiful woman.

She was young, and tall, and a pair of bright, dark eyes gave animation to her pale face. There was something majestic in her movement as she walked. But she was sad, like a figure taken from a sarcophagus--she never smiled. She had dwelt here for several years, visited by no one save Hoym's sister, the Countess Vitzthum. It was thus that Count Hoym guarded his wife from the intrigues of the court, and he did not even like to see his sister too frequently visiting his wife's retreat. The Countess Vitzthum, however, only shrugged her shoulders contemptuously.

The Countess Hoym's only distractions were the pious books of Protestant dreamers, which she read with great avidity. Occasionally she took a walk under the surveillance of the old butler.

Life here was monotonous, and quiet as the grave, but at the same time passions never entered to cause disturbances. It was only when the King and court were absent, that the Countess Hoym was permitted to visit the capital for a short time. This long seclusion had made her proud, sad, and bitter; she despised the world, and was full of strange asceticisms. She thought that her life was ended, and that she was awaiting death, although she was very beautiful, and not more than twenty years of age; but all who saw her could scarcely believe she was older than eighteen, so remarkably youthful was her appearance.

The Countess Vitzthum, who in the turbulent life of the court had lost all her freshness and half her beauty, was provoked at the unfading charms of her sister-in-law. She was also irritated by her other good qualities; her noble pride of virtue; her indignation at corruption; her contempt for intrigue and lying; and last, but not least, by the majestic manner in which the Countess Hoym looked upon her lively, laughing, and fickle sister-in-law.

Countess Hoym, on her side, did not like the Countess Vitzthum; she felt an instinctive repulsion towards her. For her husband she had a cold contempt, having learned through her sister-in-law that he had been unfaithful to her. By one tender look, she could bring him to her feet; she knew her power, but she had no wish to use it. He seemed to her too villainous to care for. She received him coldly, and parted from him with indifference. Hoym was furious, but he felt feeble in the presence of his wife, and all quarrels were stopped by his taking his departure.

Thus the sad monotonous life at Laubegast went on. Sometimes Anna thought of returning to Holstein, and taking up her abode with her family who dwelt at Brockdorf; but she was not on good terms with them. Her father and mother were both dead, and her sister, the Countess of Brunswick, née Holstein Plön, would not have cared to see her at court. She remembered only too well the behaviour of the sixteen-years old Anna, who had slapped the face of Prince Ludwig Rudolf, when, attracted by her marvellous beauty, he had tried to kiss her.

Thus it was that the beautiful but unfortunate Anna had no place to which she could turn for comfort.

Notwithstanding the corruption of the court, and the nearness of Dresden, in which it is difficult to hide such a beautiful being from the gaze of the people, Anna had been so carefully concealed in her retreat on the shores of the Elbe, that despite the continual movement of the lazy gang surrounding the Sovereign, no one had noticed her.

Except one.

That one was a young Pole, who lived at the court, which he had been forced to enter quite against his inclination.

The first time Augustus the Strong visited Poland after having been elected King of that country, he wished to show his strength to the Polish nobles. With this intent, he began one evening, after dinner, to break horse-shoes and silver plates. The Poles regarded this as a bad omen for their country, and one of them, wishing to break the spell, said he knew a lad who could do the same. The King felt the sting conveyed in the remark, still he expressed a wish to see his rival. Thereupon the Bishop of Kujawy promised to produce the noble referred to, who dwelt at Cracow. His name was Zaklika, and he came of a powerful family, though at present he was very poor. Then the incident was forgotten, and the Bishop would never have mentioned it, being conscious that he had committed an indiscretion, had not the King reminded him of it, and asked to see Raymond Zaklika.

The youth had just ended his studies at a Jesuit convent, and was uncertain what he should do. His wish was to enter the army, but he had no money with which to purchase a commission, and, being a noble, he could not enter otherwise. After long searching, Zaklika was found. The Bishop was obliged to purchase him a decent suit of clothes, before he could present him to the King. Then he was kept ready to be brought forward at the first favourable moment, for the King usually rose to display his strength after he had feasted, and was in a good humour.

At length one day, when the King was breaking silver cups and horse-shoes, which his courtiers always kept in readiness for him, he turned to the Bishop, who was quietly looking on, and said,--

"Father, where is your Hercules?"

Zaklika was summoned.

The youth was straight as an oak, good-looking, and modest as a girl. Augustus smiled on seeing him. He could only converse with him in Latin, for as yet the youth knew neither French nor German. Still there was no need for many words. Two new silver goblets stood before the King; Augustus took one of them, and, pressing it between his fingers, bent it as though it had been a leaf.

Smiling ironically, he pushed the other towards Zaklika, saying,--

"Now you try. If you can bend it, it is yours."

Timidly the youth