She held out her hand and he took it so reverently, without haste and with tenderness, and kissed it so respectfully that her last doubt vanished—­although she scarcely had the ghost of one.

He had triumphed completely, and he retired with an airy step and a heart replete with gratification.

“If he is dragged into the prison and locked up to rot in the dungeon, they will blame me the last of all,” he muttered.  “Heavens, how supernally beautiful she is!  There are times when I think that if she and her rival occupied the scales of the balance, a butterfly’s wing would turn them.  My heart would be divided in their mutual favor.”

With the same aerial step, he passed two or three men in threadbare suits and shabby hats, who were hovering about the Persepolitan, and who carefully exchanged glances of understanding with him.  He went straight to the superintendent-inspector of police, and sat down in his cabinet to concert with him on the best way to suppress, without scandal, the dangerous emissary from ever-restless Poland, lodged in consultation with the Jew, the bugbear of the monarchies of Europe.

“Tut, tut! tell not the official that Daniels and his daughter, for the paltry lucre of the drink-halls or for artistic satisfaction, made the tour of the capitals!”

In the meantime, the “suspects,” not themselves suspicious, commenced, with Rebecca a listener, upon the move counseled by the chivalrous major.  It was one they had almost settled upon and they determined to put it all the sooner into execution.  The post chaise was kept in a state of readiness, alike with the horse that drew it on these important occasions, a surefooted nag whose pace was better than her appearance.  Claudius, to be sure, rested under the disadvantage of being a stranger to the roads, as he had traveled only upon one to enter this city—­commonly accounted dull, but so far crammed with serious adventures.  This blank in his topographical lore was easily filled:  the bright-eyed Hedwig was to meet him at the first corner, mount into the vehicle of which the capacious hood of enameled cloth would hide her, and there pilot him in steering to the Sendling Thur or gate.  Once in the open country, the road was plainer—­in fact, he could be guided by the locomotive’s smoke and whistle till he reached the little station.  Even twenty miles out, the Persepolitan’s landlord had acquaintances—­perhaps they were brothers in some occult league—­and the vehicle could be left without misgivings at any of the inns which he named.

There was nothing in this plan, so simple as to promise success, to trouble the brain, but, all the same, Claudius had a sleepless night, though he retired early to be prepared for the probably eventful morrow.