The Mercenary: A Tale of The Thirty Years' War

by W. J. Eccott

Ferdinand smiled that pallid half-sardonic smile of his which seemed to sum up the weariness of generations of Habsburgs, and to be in itself a satiric comment upon the futility of human endeavours to stem the progress of events. He put a question—

"Whom?"

"The Archduchess Stephanie!"

The Emperor frowned the merest suspicion of a frown. Father Lamormain watched him peacefully, as if it had been an affair of shuttlecocks and not a deep political design.

"Alone? Since when has Austria depended upon its women?"

"To the first question your Majesty, No! To the second, Always!"

"Ah!" said the Emperor. "My son Ferdinand."

"The Archduke Ferdinand! And with him the Archduchess Stephanie."

"Is she likely to add such cogency to our arguments that Bavaria will steady itself to be our last buttress?"

"The Elector Maximilian has sought her in marriage. The project has been deferred by the war, but the living princess, with pleading in her tones and promises in her eyes, should outweigh all the bribes of Richelieu."