Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1918-05-17

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fore he goes away. How about lit"
"T1l try. I'm not very good. I do a
good many things, you know"
Here, strangely enough, 1t was the
chancellor who fumbled for his hand
kerchief. A vision had come to him of
the two of them kneeling side by side
at Etzel, the little lad who was mot
very good" and he himself with his
long years behind him of such things
as fill q mans life. And because the
open door was not so far ahead for
him either, and because he believed inn
plicitly in the great record within the
gate, he shook his shaggy head.
So the pilgrimage was arranged.
With due publicity, of course, and due
precaution for safety. BY train to the
foot of the mountains, and then on
foot for the ten miles to Etzel.
The crown prince went through his
preparation In a sort of rapt solemn
ity. So must the boy crusaders have
looked as, starting on their long jour-
ney, they faced south and east, toward
the far distant Sepulcher Of Our Lord.
The kings council went, the chancellor,
the mayor Of the city, wearing the
great gold chain of his Office around his
neck, and a handful of soldiers-a
simple pilgrimage and the more affect
Ing. There were no streaming banners,
40 magnificent vestments. The arch
bishop accompanied them, and a flag
bearer.
They went on foot to the railway
station through lines of kneeling peo-
pie, the boy still rapt, and looking
straight ahead, the chancellor SEEM
ingly also absorbed, but keenly alive
to the crowds. AS he went on, his face
relaxed. 1t was as if the miracle had
already happened. Not the miracle
for which the boy would pray, but a
greater one. Surely these kneeling
people, gazing with moist and kindly
eyes at the crown prince, could not,
at the hot words of demagogues, turn
into the mob he feared. But it had
happened before. The people who had,
n moment, adored the Dauphin Of
France on his balcony at Versailles
had lived to scream for his life.
The countess, standing On her bal
cony and staring down into the valley
beheld the pilgrimage and had thus
her first knowledge of it. She was
incredulous at first, and stood gazing,
gripping the stone railing with tense
hands. She watched, horror stricken.
The crown prince, himself, ONE to
Ethel to prayi For his grandfather,
of course. Then, indeed, must things
be bad with the king, as bad as they
could be.
The church doors closed behind
them.
Olga Loschek fell on her knees. She
was shaking from head to foot. And
because the religious training of her
early life. near the shrine had given
her faith in miracles, she prayed for
one. Rather, she made q bargain with
God:
Ii any word came to her from Karl,
any, no matter to what it pe~rtained,
she would take it for a sign, and at
tempt flight. If she was captured, she
would kill herself.
But, if no word came from Karl by
the hour of her departure the next
morning, then she would do the thing
she had set out to do, and let him be-
warel The king dead, there would be
10 king. Only over the dead bodies
of the Livonians would they let him
marry Hedwig and the throne. 1t
would be war,
Curiously, while she was still on her
knees, her bargain made, the plan
came to her by which, when the time
came, the ~terrorists were to rouse the
people to ever greater fury. Still
kneeling, she turned it over in her
mind. 1t was possible. More, 1t could
be made plausible, with her assistance
And at the vision it evoked-Mettlich's
horror and rage, Hedwig's pulling
tears, her own triumph-she took a
deep breath. Revenge with a ven
geance, retaliation for old hurts and
fresh injuries, these were what she
found on her knees, while the bell in
the valley commenced the mass, and
u oulull DOyy fcAy lupL anu NSly SaAH-
est, prayed for his grandfather's life.
Yet the bargain came very close to
being made the other way that day,
and by Karl himself.
On the day of the pilgrimage Karl
found hNnself strangely restless and
uneasy. Olga Loschek haunted him,
her face when he had told her about
the letter, her sagging figure when he
had left her.
Something like remorse stirred on
him. She had taken great risks for
him. OF all the women he had known,
she had most truly and unselfshly
loved him.
Very nearly did he swing the scale
In which Olga Loschek had hung her
bargain with God-so nearly that in
the intervals of affixing his %sprawling
Si0natura tn VariOuS dOcumnntS he