"But surely His Highness the Crown-Prince of Saxony does not believe any of those wicked reports?" I said. "Ah! Then you have heard. Of course, you have. Von Metzsch has taken good care to let the whole world know the lies that he and the Countess Paule Starhemberg have concocted between them. It is cruel!" she declared in a paroxysm of grief. "It is wicked!" "No, no. Calm yourself, Princess!" I urged sympathetically. "I am at least your friend, and will act as such should occasion arise." "I thank you," she sighed in relief, and she put out her hand, over which I bent as I took it in friendship. "Ah!" she exclaimed in a low voice. "I fear I shall require the assistance of a friend very soon. Do you recollect my broken pearls?" And a few moments later she left my room. Through all that day and the next I wondered what sly, underhand work could be in progress. I pitied the good-looking, unconventional Imperial Princess who, because of her somewhat hoydenish high spirits, had aroused the storm of anger and jealousy in the Saxon Court. But the Hapsburgs had ever been unfortunate in their loves. On the day before the Crown-Princess's visit to the Berlin Court was due to end, at about six o'clock in the evening, I passed the sentries and ascended to the Emperor's study with some papers I had been going through regarding the reorganization of the Stettin garrison. I was one of the very few persons ever admitted to that wing of the Palace. As I approached the door, treading noiselessly upon the soft carpet, I heard voices raised excitedly, the door being slightly ajar. Naturally I halted. In my position I was able to hear a great deal of Palace intrigue, but never had I listened to a conversation that held me more breathless than at that moment. "Woman," cried the Emperor, "do you, then, openly defy my authority?" "What that crafty sycophant, Von Metzsch, has told you is, I repeat, a foul and abominable lie," was the reply. And I knew that the unfortunate Princess was defending her reputation, which her enemies at the Court of Saxony had torn to shreds. "No woman ever admits the truth, of course," sneered the Emperor. "I consider you a disgrace to the Dresden Court." "So this is the manner in which you openly insult your guests!" was the Princess's bitter retort. "You, who believe yourself the idol of your people, now exhibit yourself in your true light as the traducer of a defenceless woman!" "How dare you utter those words to me!" cried the All-Highest One, in fury. "I dare defend myself--even though you may be Emperor," replied Luisa, in a cold, hard tone of defiance. "I repeat that your allegations are untrue, and that you have no right to make them. Surely you can see that my enemies, headed by the King of Saxony, are all conspiring to effect my downfall. I know it! I have written proof of it!" "Bosh! You say that because you know that the statements are true!"