While he searched she held the light for him, shaking her head over the disorder among the articles where he rummaged.
Ulrich had now reached the bottom of the chest. Here he found a valuable necklace, booty which Zorrillo had given his companion for use in case of need. This should be Ruth’s. Close beside it lay a small package, tied with rose-pink ribbon, containing a tiny infant’s shirt, a gay doll, and a slender gold circlet; her wedding-ring! The date showed that it had been given to her by his father, and the shirt and doll were mementos of him, her darling—of himself.
He gazed at them, changing them from one hand to the other, till suddenly his heart overflowed, and without heeding Frau Geel, who was watching him, he wept softly, exclaiming: “Mother, dear mother!”
A light hand touched his shoulder, and a woman’s kind voice said: “Poor fellow, poor fellow! Yes, she was a dear little thing, and a mother, a mother—that is enough!”
The Eletto nodded assent with tearful eyes, and when she again gently repeated in a tone of sincere sympathy, her “poor fellow!” it sounded sweeter, than the loudest homage that had ever been offered to his fame and power.
CHAPTER XXIX.
The next morning while Ulrich was packing his luggage, assisted by his servant, the sound of drums and fifes, bursts of military music and loud cheers were heard in the street, and going to the window, he saw the whole body of mutineers drawn up in the best order.
The companies stood in close ranks before his house, impetuous shouts and bursts of music made the windows rattle, and now the officers pressed into his room, holding out their swords, vowing fealty unto death, and entreating him to remain their commander.
He now perceived, that power cannot be thrown aside like a worthless thing. His tortured heart was stirred with deep emotion, and the drooping wings of ambition unfolded with fresh energy. He reproached, raged, but yielded; and when Ortis on his knees, offered him the commander’s baton, he accepted it.