“The damsel too?” asked Philip; “you don’t want her surely!”

“No, she may go; but we must see her face, and take down her name and residence; it may be of use.”

“She is the daughter of Widow Bittner,” said Philip; and was not a little enraged when the whole party took Rose to a lamp and gazed on her tearful face.

“Go home, Rose, and don’t be alarmed on my account,” said Philip, trying to comfort her; “my conscience is clear.”

But Rose sobbed so as to move even the policemen to pity her.  The Prince, availing himself of the opportunity, attempted to spring out of his captors’ hands, but one of the men was a better jumper than he, and put an obstacle in his way.

“Hallo!” cried the sergeant, “this conscience is not quite so clear; hold him firm; march!”

“Whither?” said the Prince.

“Directly to the Minister of Police.”

“Listen,” said the Prince, seriously but affably, for he did not like the turn affairs were taking, as he was anxious to keep his watchman frolic concealed.  “I have nothing to do with this business.  I belong to the court.  If you venture to force me to go with you, you will be sorry for it when you are feasting on bread and water tomorrow in prison.”

“For Heaven’s sake, let the gentleman go,” cried Philip; “I give you my word he is a great lord, and will make you repent your conduct.  He is—­”

“Hush; be silent,” interrupted Julian; “tell no human being who I am.  Whatever happens keep my name a secret.  Do you hear? an entire secret from every one!”

“We do our duty,” said the sergeant, “and nobody can punish us for that; you may go to a prison yourself; we have often had fellows speak as high, and threaten as fiercely; forward!”

“Men! take advice; he is a distinguished man at court.”

“If it were a king himself he should go with us.  He is a suspicious character, and we must do our duty.”

While the contest about the Prince went on, a carriage, with eight horses and outriders, bearing flambeaux, drove past the church.

“Stop!” said a voice from the carriage, as it was passing the crowd of policemen who had the Prince in custody.

The carriage stopped.  The door flew open, and a gentleman, with a brilliant star on the breast of his surtout, leaped out.  He pushed through the party, and examined the Prince from head to foot.

“I thought,” he said, “I knew the bird by his feathers.  Mask, who are you?”

Julian was taken by surprise, for in the inquirer he recognized Duke Herrman.

“Answer me,” roared Herrman in a voice of thunder.

Julian shook his head, and made signs to the Duke to desist, but he pressed the question he upon him, being determined to know who it he had accosted at the masquerade.  He asked the policemen.  They stood with heads uncovered, and told him they had orders to bring the watchman instantly before the Minister of Police, for he had been singing wicked verses, they had heard some of them; that the mask had given himself out as some great lord of the court, but that they believed that to be a false pretence, and therefore considered it their duty to take him into custody.