She contemplated herself for a long time, then a well-pleased smile passed over her fascinating countenance.  “I am beautiful,” she said, “yes, I am beautiful, and I believe those are right who suppose that I resemble my great-grand-mother, the beautiful Mary Stuart.  O Mary! you beautiful, bewitching Queen—­oh teach me the arts which won for you the hearts of all men; inspire me with the glow of passion, let it flash forth from me in bright flames, and grant that these flames may kindle and fire the one I love, whom I will possess, and on whom all my hopes and desires are fixed!  But hush! did I not hear steps?”

She again hurried to the window and listened, holding her breath.  A shrill, thrice-repeated whistle was heard, sounding strangely awful in the stillness of the night.

“It is he,” murmured the Princess, “it is the concerted signal.”

She took from a table standing near a package consisting of cords and knots, and unrolled it.  It was a rope ladder, twisted artfully and durably of fine cords, and held together at the top by a strong iron ring.  This ring the Princess now slipped over the iron hook which was fixed in the middle of the cross work of the window, and lowered the rope ladder, while at the same time, as if in answer, she repeated the whistle in the same manner.  Then she bounded back from the window, flew through the room to both doors, assured herself that the bolts were secured, and with hasty hands dropped the curtains over them.

“No one can hear us, no one can see us, no one can get in here,” she murmured; “he may come.”

A slight rustling was heard below the window, then a dark mass appeared in the open space, and a closely muffled manly form jumped from the windowsill down into the apartment.  Wholly enveloped in the folds of an ample black cloak, whose hood was thrown over the head and drawn far over the face, it was impossible to recognize the visitor’s features.

The person thus disguised curiously and inquisitively turned his head to both sides of the room, strode rapidly across it, lifted the curtains from both doors, examined the fastenings of the bolts, went to the divan, peered under it, and, after completing this silent inspection of the chamber, returned to the window, loosened the cord from the hook, drew in the rope-ladder, and closed the window.

Princess Ludovicka Hollandine, standing in the middle of the apartment, had watched this singular demeanour on the part of the mysterious intruder with growing astonishment.  She had first held out her arms to greet the expected, the longed-for, to press him to her beating heart, but, finding that he came not to embrace her, she had slowly dropped her arms again.  She had looked toward him with a tender glance, a fascinating smile, but when he hastened not to her, her glance had grown dark and her smile had vanished; and now, when he did approach her, she assumed an air of distant, proud reserve.  He seemed not to see it, and, bending his knee before her, his head being still concealed, he pressed the hem of her garment reverentially to his lips.