"I see," said Dick. "Depend upon me, Count. As for what favors this Landgrave has done me--" "My dear friend, you earned far greater favors when you saved her highness's life! And this I tell you,--if you do not strike the Landgrave, he will strike you! Who knows whether he has not already taken the initiative against you? Many a first blow is really given in self-defence. That is your case, I assure you. And now let us talk of details." For the next hour this strangely ill-matched pair were deep in the plans of conspiracy. Then Mesmer hastened back to the palace, so as to be seen at the card party, from which he feared he might already have been missed. * * * * * Three weeks afterwards,--that is to say, near the end of November,--the Landgrave and his court went hunting in the great forest a few miles southeast of Cassel, between that city and Spangenberg. Now and then, during the chase, some gentleman or other would drop out, unnoticed, turning his horse into the thick woods. Thus, one by one, a number of gentlemen finally arrived at a ruined Gothic tower, in the midst of a thick copse near the road that ran south from Cassel to Melsungen,--that Melsungen which was thirteen miles south of Cassel. At intervals, too, horsemen coming from the direction of Cassel, each one stopping and looking carelessly around to see if he were observed, would turn leftward from the road, penetrate the copse, and so arrive at the tower, which was a mere shell of weather-beaten stone, seamed with irregular crevices, and mantled here and there with wild foliage. Each newcomer, from either direction, tied his horse to a tree, and entered the tower, by its high Gothic doorway. The second man who arrived was challenged by the first, who stood in shadow within the doorway, with the words, "Who comes?" He replied, "Hesse-Hanau," and, thus eliciting the word "Welcome" from the first, went into the shadow. He found that the first man was the chamberlain, Count Mesmer. "By Heaven," said the second man, gaily, observing the other in a ray of light that entered through a lofty crack in the tower, "you are conspiring in character! A scarlet cloak certainly fits the role." The speaker was a young Frenchman, the Viscount de Rougepont, who jested at all times and places. "You make a light matter of high treason, Viscount," replied Mesmer, in a somewhat husky voice. Before the Frenchman could answer, another man was heard advancing over the fallen brown leaves outside the tower. The manner of his admission was the same as that of the Frenchman's. Within a short time, more than a score of men had thus assembled. Two remained on guard immediately inside the doorway. The others, soon accustomed to the half darkness of their meeting-place, proceeded with their business. The secretary, who was none other than Richard Wetheral, called a roll. There was a response to every name but that of Von Romberg.