And leaving this poisoned shaft to do its work in the slow mind of the Chancellor, Hermengarde dismissed him graciously, and summoned her favourite page.
“Go and find Karl Fink,” she commanded. “Say that you have a private message for him, and when you are sure that you cannot be overheard, tell him from me to be at the west corner of the Castle terrace in ten minutes’ time. Tell him to wrap himself up.”
The message from the Princess found Karl in his own room, whither he had just retired after Johann was comfortably lodged in accordance with the King’s directions. To his relief his former comrade had said but little when they were again together.
“You see, Karl,” he observed sarcastically, “your fears were groundless. Everything has passed off well, and you will not lose your head, after all.”
“Swear that you will never let the King know who it was that brought you into the gallery,” urged the other, still filled with apprehension.
Johann regarded him pityingly.
“Poor fool! If you have forgotten the oaths by which we bound ourselves at Stuttgart, I have not. Fear nothing; you are safe this time. But beware how you hatch any further treachery. Next time you may not escape so lightly.”
Karl would have been only too glad to follow this advice, by abstaining from all further part in the intrigues which were going forward around him. Nevertheless, when the page came to summon him to attend on his mistress, he did not dare to send back a refusal.
Hermengarde meanwhile had proceeded to divest herself of her jewels and of her outer skirt, and to put on a homely walking dress such as might have been worn by a woman of the middle class. This done she emerged cautiously from her apartment, and stole down by a back staircase to the rendezvous.
It was getting dark, and the night threatened to be a stormy one. She noted the signs of rough weather, and was about to re-enter the Castle to obtain a cloak, when she saw the figure of a man coming towards her.