"Long live the Queen!" echoed Dr. Matti without enthusiasm. "If Karl was a good man, he is in heaven. Requiescat in pace. We must accept facts, and our first duty is to pacify the country."
"That means an expedition to Weissheim," put in Father Bernhardt. "The district is in a ferment. However, our friends Von Hügelweiler and Herr Trafford, with a few regiments of sharp-shooters, will put that right in a few days."
"More bloodshed!" sighed Gloria.
"The authority of the new Government must be respected," declared Dr. Matti. "We must have no false sentimentality."
Gloria rose from her seat with a look of a new-born resolution on her ashen face.
"There must be no more fighting," she said imperiously. "I am a Schattenberg, I know, and come of a race accustomed to hold life as a little thing. I plotted against Karl, because my father and brother met their death at his hands. But Karl is dead, and his death is a horrible and ghastly memory to me. The men of Weissheim are my subjects, and I will not have their blood on my hands. Our Government must be respected, you say? We will win respect by mercy and tolerance, then, not by the cannon and the shambles!"
Dr. Matti's countenance was a picture of contemptuous irritation. Bernhardt's head sank on his breast, as if he were deep in thought. The silence was broken by a loud rap at the door. Von Hügelweiler strode across the room and opened it.
There was a moment's whispered consultation.
"A messenger with urgent news, your Majesty," said Hügelweiler at length.
"Admit him!"