You wave it three times so: arrange the wick; [_He does as he says and gives the lamp back to the_ SERVANT.] That's it. See that? THE SERVANT. Oh, aren't you clever? [_He carries the lamp into the_ DUKE'S _room._] FLAMBEAU. Rather! To-morrow--flight! [SEDLINZKY _enters._] SEDLINZKY. The Duke? FLAMBEAU. [_Pointing to the room._] In there. SEDLINZKY. Watch here. FLAMBEAU. I'm watching. SEDLINZKY. Lock! [_He goes out._] FLAMBEAU. [_Locking the door after him._] Locked! SEDLINZKY. [_Without._] Take the key out. FLAMBEAU. Out. SEDLINZKY. None but the Emperor has the key. Be careful-- Watch. FLAMBEAU. As I always do. [_He bends over the key-holes and arranges them carefully._] And for the night I'll close the eyelids of the key-holes softly. SEDLINZKY'S VOICE. Good-night, you Piedmontese. FLAMBEAU. Good-night, my Lord. SEDLINZKY'S VOICE. Remember! you're on duty. FLAMBEAU. I'm on duty. SEDLINZKY'S VOICE. Well, that's all right. Good-night. FLAMBEAU. Good-night! [_He throws off his livery coat. Puts on the busby, which is standing on the console, and shoulders the musket. He is now in the full accoutrement of a Grenadier of the Guards._] And thus, Suddenly upright, thin, unliveried, Locked in till dawn, and safe against surprise, Glowering with grizzled brows beneath his busby, Straight in his ancient uniform, his gun Firm in his arm, his hand on his right nipple, The fixed and regulation attitude, Standing thus every night before your threshold, Giving himself a password full of pride, Pleased with a deed that's grave, and yet a jest, A Grenadier at Schönbrunn stands on guard About the son as once about the Father. 'Tis the last time! You'll never hear of it. 'Tis for myself. A private luxury. I must be mad to do a thing like this For no one's eye, but just to say "By Jove, That's rather good!" At Schönbrunn! In their teeth! But I'm delighted!--I'm content! [_He hears the noise of a key in the door._] I'm damned! [_The door opens gently._] Who can have got the key? [_He retires into the shadow by the_ DUKE'S _door._] [METTERNICH _enters, carrying a large candelabrum._] METTERNICH. No, no! This scene Must never be repeated. FLAMBEAU. Nepomuk! METTERNICH. Yes, I will speak to-night. We are alone. [_As he puts down the candelabrum he sees the hat._]