"No, I did it on my own responsibility," the lieutenant replied. "I was afraid lest the mob might employ this evening in making unpleasant riots, and hence I wished to be in readiness to move at once. Still, if you command it, I will give the order to unsaddle."

As Eickstedt naturally did not desire this, but was quite satisfied with the lieutenant's precaution, he ordered the latter to keep all the horses saddled throughout the night. After the lieutenant had accompanied his commanding officer to the gates, he was about to retire, but Eickstedt gave him a nod, and whispered to him to come to his apartments precisely at half-past three in the morning; he would then find the door open, but must not pass Colonel Falckenskjold's quarters, or drop a word to a single being of what he (Eickstedt) had just intimated to him.

The entire plot, however, all but failed owing to Rantzau's vacillation. This man, upon whose courage, fidelity, and secrecy no reliance could be placed, determined not only to withdraw his assistance from the party in which he had enlisted, but to reveal the whole conspiracy. At eight o'clock on the evening before the ball, he drove to the house of Justiz-rath Struensee. When he was told here that the Justiz-rath had not yet returned from a dinner party, he urged the servant to inform his master directly he returned home that Count Rantzau desired a visit from him as soon as possible. The count had hardly driven away, when the Justiz-rath arrived, and the servant delivered the message.

"The count is always in such a hurry about trifles," the minister's brother answered, "that the visit will safely keep till to-morrow morning."

He therefore deferred the visit, and dressed himself for the masquerade ball.

An apparently so insignificant occurrence decided the happiness and existence of numerous persons and the fate of the whole monarchy for twelve long years!

Rantzau went home, and sent to tell Colonel Köller that an attack of gout prevented him from keeping his appointment as agreed. In order to support the deception, he even had his feet wrapped up in flannel. The count resided in a royal mansion called the Palace, separated from Christiansborg by a ditch. The conspirators were in a state of great alarm, and sent off Beringskjold to the count. When Rantzau appealed to the state of his feet, the envoy suggested a sedan-chair, and on the count still persisting, he delivered the ultimatum from Köller that he would have him fetched by grenadiers if he did not come. This threat was effectual, and Rantzau appeared at the meeting-place, being conveyed to it by two grenadiers of the guard in a chair.

The ball was over at about half-past two, and profound silence prevailed in the palace. The conspirators alone did not sleep.

The two commandants, Eickstedt and Köller, took care that the garrison and palace guards should be held in readiness for any event. When Lieutenant Schlemann kept his appointment with Colonel von Eickstedt, he found there Von Rönpstorff, the major of the regiment, who had several lieutenants awakened. When these officers arrived, Eickstedt lighted a candle, placed it under the table, and read to the meeting by this mystic illumination an order signed by the queen dowager and the hereditary prince.