HE HELD A SMOKING REVOLVER IN HIS HAND.
As they entered the room Frederick fired another shot through the window and shouting, “I have hit one of them, I am sure. I heard a scream!” jumped into the garden and rushed across the lawn and through the shrubbery, followed by the general and the more or less terrified servants. All their endeavors to capture the midnight intruders proved, however, fruitless, and whether wounded or not, the burglars had evidently succeeded in making good their escape.
On returning to the library it was ascertained that the general's desk had been forced open and that a considerable sum of money in gold and notes, together with several valuable bonds and railway shares, had been abstracted therefrom. Frederick related that he had been awakened shortly after midnight by a strange grating sound proceeding from the room immediately beneath his own. That, jumping out of bed, he had quickly put on his dressing-gown, and seizing a loaded revolver, had softly crept down stairs. Peeping through the keyhole he had seen two men who, by the light of a small taper, were ransacking his father's desk. His efforts in the dark to open the door must have evidently disturbed them, for by the time he managed to enter they had reached the window and were in the act of leaping into the gardens when he fired several shots at them in rapid succession. It was at this juncture that his father and the servants had appeared on the scene.
So gratified was the general by the courage and presence of mind displayed by Frederick in attacking the burglars single-handed that he forgot for the moment both the loss of his stolen property and the grave offenses of which the young man had been guilty. Grasping his son's hands he expressed his satisfaction to him in no measured terms, and indeed was on the point of releasing him from any further arrest or confinement to his room. On second thought, however, he decided to await the replies to his letters from Berlin before doing so, especially as he was extremely anxious that none of the visitors to the villa should become aware of Frederick's presence at Naples.
Early next morning Gen. Von Waldberg drove into Naples to inform the chief of police of the robbery committed at his residence and to request him to offer a reward for the capture of the thieves and the recovery of the stolen property. As he rode back to Posilipo he reflected, with feelings of much gratification, on the pluck shown by his son during the night, and determined to write at once an account of the whole occurrence to the king, in the hope that it might induce his majesty to regard with greater leniency the lad's misconduct. He was just in the act of entering his library for this purpose when he happened to catch sight of one of the Italian servants coming down stairs from Frederick's room with a bulky envelope in his hand. On perceiving the general the man attempted to conceal it, but the old count was too quick, and, ordering him into the library, exacted the surrender of the letter.
“Where are you going, and what is this?” demanded he of the frightened Neapolitan. The latter's eyes lowered before his master's stern gaze, and he confessed in faltering tones that the “young count” had told him to go and post the letter immediately and without letting any one know about it.
“You need not trouble yourself any further about the matter,” remarked the general, “Franz will attend to it, and see here, if you breathe a word about this either to Count Frederick or to any one else you will be turned out of the house at an hour's notice. Do you understand?”
“Si eccellenza, si eccellenza,” murmured the badly scared Italian, as with many low bows he backed out of the general's presence.
As soon as the door was closed the old count raised his glasses to his eyes for the purpose of discovering the destination of his son's letter. It was addressed to Rose Hartmann, at Biala, and judging by its bulk certainly contained something besides ordinary note-paper.