“Bird of ill omen!” exclaimed the Electoress. “He means that both King and Elector are lost together. But that is not yet the case. My brother is Elector of the Palatinate by divine right and justice, and he is still, in fact, King of Bohemia. The dignitaries of the country placed the crown upon his head before the whole world. One battle is lost. Cannot a second be won? What do you say to that?” “This letter says the flight of your brother was so precipitate that he forgot to take not only his private papers but his crown with him. Without doubt they are at this moment in possession of the Emperor. Losing the crown, the outward symbol of power, I fear he has lost the confidence of the Bohemians, and especially the confidence of the Protestant party of Germany.” “And what do you both think my brother’s next step will be?” “Gracious Princess, I have no gift of prophecy. Schwarzenberg fears that your brother and his family will seek refuge in your court.” “Does Schwarzenberg fear that?” “Alas! yes. Your brother is an enemy of the Emperor. As his reception here would be dangerous, Schwarzenberg thinks it must be refused, however painful it may be.” “My God!” exclaimed the Electoress in a despairing tone, “has it come to this, that my brother is to be banned as an outlaw?” Pruckmann shrugged his shoulders, as he said: “Schwarzenberg thinks—” The Electoress wrung her hands. Pruckmann was about to go on. “It is enough,” said the Electoress. “I cannot bear more to-day.” She gave him a sign to leave. As he passed through the courtyard he looked up at the windows of the apartment he had just left and, as he pursued his way, said to himself: “Perhaps to-day this or that one passing here has also looked up with envious glances and has thought that the greatest happiness on earth is found in a princely crown. O foolish ones, who thus think! Truly princes buy dearly enough the favors which you cannot have, with sorrows you cannot know.” Chapter VI Baron and Chancellor Chancellor Pruckmann sat at his richly carved oak desk, finishing a letter to the Elector, who was still in Prussia, as he had just been informed by Baron Leuchtmar. The Baron, a large, powerfully built man of about fifty, had a somewhat serious, even solemn, expression of face. The important duty of caring for the education of the young Prince Frederick William had recently been assigned to him. He was to enter upon that duty when the Prince, now in his fifth year, reached the age of seven. Leuchtmar, who had just returned from a journey to Austria and Bohemia, had much of importance to communicate to his friend the Chancellor, as they sat over their wine. Pruckmann began the conversation: “Is it true that a wealthy Bohemian nobleman has offered to recruit an army for the Emperor?” “Yes, it is true.” “His name?” “Wallenstein.”