And the reek of this great burning hung for days after in the heavens.  Thus was an end made to the iniquities of the house of the Black Duke Casimir and the Red Duke Otho.  And the last Duke mixed his ashes with that of the fatal Tower.  For on the morrow there remained only the blackened walls and glowing skeleton beams of all that mighty palace—­which, indeed, has never been rebuilt.  For the people of Thorn, under the mild and equitable rule which followed, erected a great memorial church upon the spot—­as may be seen to this day, a landmark from far to witness if I have lied in the tale which has been told.

So the Prince Karl gave back to Thorn its liberties, as he had promised.  But the regality of the Dukedom he kept for himself, and he took the Wolfmark and made it part of his dominions, till, as he had formerly undertaken, the broom-bush kept the cow throughout the length and breadth of Plassenburg and the Mark.

It was a noble home-coming when we returned to Plassenburg—­victorious and famous; but also there was mourning deep and solemn for the Princess Ysolinde, who by her sacrifice had wrought such great things for the arms of Plassenburg, and had died in the moment of victory.

Then, when after the stately funeral of the dead Princess we returned back to the palace, it was the Prince’s pleasure that Helene and myself should ride on either hand of him through the city.

And when we were announced in the court, and the councillors of state stood about, my wife was named by her true name, “Helena, Princess of Plassenburg!”

Whereat the courtiers opened their mouths and widened their eyes—­thinking, perhaps, that that ancient wizard, Chancellor Leopold von Dessauer had suddenly gone mad.

But when the representatives of the cities of the Princedom, and the delegates from Thorn and the Mark, had been received with due honor, the Prince bade his Chancellor recount all he had learned from my father, and all that he had discovered in the archives of Plassenburg.

Then, when Dessauer had finished, Karl the Prince arose.

“I am,” he said, “a plain, brusque man.  And speech was never my stronghold.  But this I say.  When Karl the Miller’s Son goes the way of King’s son and beggar’s son, it is his will that Helene, legitimate Princess of Plassenburg, shall reign over you.  And also that her husband, Hugo, who, as you know, won her from dreadful death, shall stand by her right hand.”

Then the nobles and great lords, fearing the Prince, and perhaps also envying a little the man who was the Prince’s general of his armies, shouted amain: 

“We swear to obey the Princess Helena!”

Whereat uprose the Little Playmate, very princess-like and full of sweet regal dignity.

“I thank you, noble Prince,” she said.  “I am glad that I can claim so honorable a name and lineage; but I had rather be no Princess, nor anything else than that which my husband hath made me—­the wife of the captain-general of the armies of Karl, the only true and noble Prince of Plassenburg!”