The candles were lit.
Near her stood a handsome creature, Annette von Arlestein, full of sparkle and daring, in a violet gown; she held a blue quilted cloak. On the peach-coloured lining the candle light flickered up and down.
They were both listening … waiting.…
“Then you put the cloak on me,” said the Princess, “and we thought we were so safe–he being away–and I went downstairs.”
Madame von Arlestein saw it–the lovely figure muffled in the dark cloak, creeping down the wide, dark stairs, while she stood at the head with a candle, ready to put her hand over it at the slightest sound.
“Then you followed, Annette, to keep watch. I was a fool to go, but he had to leave soon, and I was mad to see him.”
“And the Elector was coming home the next day,” added the old woman.
Another scene rose before them: the vast dark kitchens beneath the dining-hall that opened on to the back entrance to the palace.
This room was underground, but was lit by the perpetual fire that burnt in the huge grate.