Rendezvous at studio--State takes my children from me--Madhouse or flight--I brought fifty-two trunks to the palace--Depart with small satchel--If I attempt to see my children I'll be seized as "mad woman"--Varying emotions of the last ten minutes--Threatening shadows thrown on a curtain decide me--Ready for flight--Diary the last thing to go into the satchel. _At Night. Eleven O'clock._ They went into family council at six tonight and are still deliberating, Andrew reports. The Tisch, he says, acts as secretary; His Majesty, of course, presides. Present are the Dowager Queen, Mathilde and Isabelle. Then Frederick Augustus, Johann George, Max and Bernhardt. Baron George von Metzsch, a high government and court functionary and my enemy, attends as legal adviser to the King. It's in the nature of things that the Baron will do his worst to destroy me, but Bernhardt! Bernhardt, who held me in his arms, now one of my judges! He will have to be especially severe with his _quondam_ mistress lest the King suspect. While the sweet family bent over those love letters--I bet the Tisch withheld Henry's--I sat in Richard's studio, advising with him. "There are only two things to be considered: the madhouse or instant flight." "You dare advise me to leave my children?" "There are no nurseries in madhouses. Your children are lost to you, anyhow. If you remain, as an alleged insane person, you 'can't be trusted,' they'll argue, for you are helpless, legally, morally and physically. "If you run away to Switzerland, on the other hand, you are a free woman, under the protection of a republican government. "Switzerland, I needn't tell you, will not go to war to wrest your children from the royal family, but will afford you personally every advantage, legal and otherwise. "Decide quickly: are you going to make King George a present of yourself as well as of the five children you bore for the benefit of the Wettiners?" "Never." * * * * * My mind is made up. My few belongings are packed. I, who came to Dresden with fifty-two trunks, leave the palace with a satchel, easy to carry. I take nothing but my personal jewels, the little money I own and some changes of linen. If I could only see my children for a moment or two, but the Queen has them in her keeping, and I might be seized as a "mad woman" if I dared leave my apartments and cross to those occupied by Her Majesty. And Frederick Augustus! He will miss me in his way. * * * * * Ten more minutes. I hear the distant clatter of a carriage. Richard driving to our rendezvous, two streets north of the palace gate. Will my limbs carry me to him and liberty? I pace the room to test their strength. "Louise," says the voice within,--"your last chance. Your good-natured husband, your darling children, your old parents, pomp and state and circumstance, indeed, a crown, you are going to abandon for--what?"