The knots were
sundered; and gradually, one following another, the whole mob began
to form into a procession and escort the curtained litter. Soon
spokesmen, a little bolder than their mates, began to ply the
Chancellor with questions. Never had he more need of that great art
of falsehood, by whose exercise he had so richly lived. And yet now
he stumbled, the master passion, fear, betraying him. He was
pressed; he became incoherent; and then from the jolting litter came
a groan. In the instant hubbub and the gathering of the crowd as to
a natural signal, the clear-eyed quavering Chancellor heard the
catch of the clock before it strikes the hour of doom; and for ten
seconds he forgot himself. This shall atone for many sins. He
plucked a bearer by the sleeve. 'Bid the Princess flee. All is
lost,' he whispered. And the next moment he was babbling for his
life among the multitude.
Five minutes later the wild-eyed servant burst into the armoury.
'All is lost!' he cried. 'The Chancellor bids you flee.' And at
the same time, looking through the window, Seraphina saw the black
rush of the populace begin to invade the lamplit avenue.
'Thank you, Georg,' she said. 'I thank you. Go.' And as the man
still lingered, 'I bid you go,' she added. 'Save yourself.'
Down by the private passage, and just some two hours later, Amalia
Seraphina, the last Princess, followed Otto Johann Friedrich, the
last Prince of Grunewald.
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