The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1881-10-12

brilliant was the interior of the pa
ace of pleasure. How those loft
halls glowed with the dazzling efful
gence of thousands of wax tapers
How softly beautiful were the maj
bic statues that graced the niche:
lined the corridors and looked dow
from their pedes'als on the gran,
ball room! How Oriental in thei
magnificence were the gorgeou
draperies of velvet and satin, witt
fringes of gold bullion! but, abov
all, what music streamed on the en-
chanted air from an orchestra com
posed of hundred of the best in
strumentalists in the city! And th
life, the animation of the throng
that filled the brilliant saloon-wh,
shall describe it?
Ernest Won Steinberg, who looked
but for one person in that brillian
multitude, was so masked and muf
fed that his disguise was impenetra
bic. Therefore, when he found tn
rose colored domino at last, he hesi
tated not to address her.
''Good evening, fair mask"
Good evening, gallant cavalier
But how know you that l am fair p
Were | to pronounce you th'
fairest in Munich, none would dis
pute your title"
''Do you know me ?"
"The belle of Munich hides hel
face in face in vain" answered Ern
est. "That inimitable hand ant
foot are her betrayers.'
you may be mistaken, after all.
II cannot be, and claim tn,
hand" said Ernest, "and will fine
employment for that dainty foot
The music sounds; lets away to tn,
dance"
II believe my hand is promised
already" answered the fair one, $50
take it quickly, before some on'
disputes the prize with you"
The next minute they were whirl
ing round the vast saloon to music
that might keep dancers on theil
feet for a life. Anna leaned upor
the shoulder Of her partner, and hi
breathed in her ear words that she
could not listen to without thrill
of pleasure.
At the conclusion of the dance
Ernest led her into a side room, ir
which they found themselves quite
alone.
"You persist, then, said the lady
Sin calling me the Baroness vor
Graffenberg?'
If | had doubted before, youl
dancing would have convinced me
The leader of the sylphides is known
by her step"
well, You have guessed right
And now in return for your conf
dence, may ! request you to raise
your mask"
Il can refuse you nothing" said
Ernest Won Steinberg.
He raised his mask as he spoke
and disclosed to the astonished gaze
of the baroness the well-known
features of King Louis of Bavaria.
''But | thought you assured us
that the cavalier was Captain Ern-
est Won Steinbergm exclaims the
reader.
Let us explain. To give addi-
tional zest and pleasure, and COM
plicate the mysteries of masquerade,
the courtiers of Louis XIV, OF
Franco, had invented the following
expedient: They procured fine wax
likenesses of their friends, of emf
nent persons, and wore them under
ther masks. When requested to de-
clare their identity, they would
raise the outer mask, and the inner
wax one, seen for a moment, in
most cases completely deceived the
spectator. 1t is easy to imagine what
an indefinite field for mystification
this contrivance afforded.
Captain Ernest had a friend, a
who had modelled bust
of the king, and from him he had
procured wax mask. beautifully
colored, and so well executed as to
deceive the eyes of the baroness for
the moment they rested on it.
Ernest, satisfied with his success, re-
placed his black velvet visor, and
continued the interview.
'sYes, baroness" whispered the
distinguished aide-de-camp, 1T is
Louis who stands before you-not
as your king, but as your subject
your slave-the thrall fyour beau
ty."
"Ah, sire" replied the belle Of
Munich. ''yon are sporting with the
sensibilities of a weak woman"
mo, by heaven !" replied the
false king. II am incapable of that.
Behold me at your feet, and hear
me swear eternal allegiance to your
charms"
"Rise, sire, rise - said the baro-
ness, very much irritated. "We
may be seen or overheard"
Long have l thought, continued
the false king, that baauty such as
yours should grace a throne"
"a throne p echoed the baroness.
But yon are are right" he con-
tinued, hurriedly "this is no time
or place for confidence like ours
Hark, the clock is striking twelve
VIII you trust to my honor, and
meet me Tomorrow night ?"
Where, sire ?'
In the Chinese pavilion in the
garden of the palace. The wicket Of
the postern gate that leads to the
door of the pavilion shall be left
open fer YOU"
The baroness gave him her hand.
Tomorrow night at twelve "said
she, and glided from the room.
"Oh, woman woman woman 7
said Ernest, when alone-"false rs
fair ! Is it for this we rank you with
the angels ? But tremble, faithful
punishment shall be as
bitter as the agony l suffer-"
And he followed the baroness in
to the dancing saloon. He had nc