spraying diamonds, arose in the narrows of the glen; at the same time the snoring music of the saws broke the silence.
The miller, hearing steps, came forth to his door, and both he and Otto started.
'Good-morning, miller,' said the Prince. 'You were right, it seems, and I was wrong. I give you the news, and bid you to Mittwalden. My throne has fallen—great was the fall of it!—and your good friends of the Phœnix bear the rule.'
The red-faced miller looked supreme astonishment. 'And your Highness?' he gasped.
'My Highness is running away,' replied Otto, 'straight for the frontier.'
'Leaving Grünewald?' cried the man. 'Your father's son? It's not to be permitted!'
'Do you arrest us, friend?' asked Otto, smiling.
'Arrest you? I?' exclaimed the man. 'For what does your Highness take me? Why, sir, I make sure there is not a man in Grünewald would lay hands upon you.'
'O, many, many,' said the Prince; 'but from you, who were bold with me in my greatness, I should even look for aid in my distress.'
The miller became the colour of beetroot. 'You may say so indeed,' said he. 'And meanwhile, will you and your lady step into my house.'
