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Newspaper Page Text
THE DUKE'S DAUGHTER
By Augustus Goodrich Sherwin.
The Duke of Heeklehburg paraded
his ancestral halls in a high state of
mental turmoil. The effigies of past
nobles of his race, the portraits of
stately dames of the family, some of
whom had been royal princesses, the
hanging armor, souvenirs of many a
"War, Eh?" Snarled the Old Savage.
famous battle tournament all these
served to bolster up his dignity and
sense of power.
"It must be done!" he advised his
private secretary. "Either the Duke
of Bolstein must divide the new
duchy his son has inherited, or war
war to the knife!"
"Sire, in these peaceful times?" re
monstrated his secretary, timidly and
with fear and trembling. "In these
peacetul times, arbitration "
"No!" interrupted Hecklenburg
forcibly, with a black frown. "It was
in the family once and for two gen
erations it has been a mutual suzer
aine. Now the duke's son inherits it
there must be a division. Why, our
own coffers have borne over one
half the expense of building up the
towns. Must we lose all that?"
"But the law "
"I am the law!" pronounced the
Duke loftily. "Who dare dispute it?"
"Not I but the choleric Bolstein,
his haughty son, Leopold?" "I beg
you, sire, think well before you act
with decision on this important ques
tion." "I am resolved," declared the Duke,
"division or war. Now1 is the time to
act, before the young Duke takes ac
tual possession of Wogran. You will
convey my ultimatum to Bolstein
forthwith. You will also visit Lady
Constance at Bolstein and advise her
to return home. I deem it best that
she shorten her stay in a principality
with which we may shortly be at
The secretary snugged his shoul
ders with resignation and lowered his
eyes in despair. He knew his mas
ter too well not to scent trouble in
store for that wilful stubborn nature.
However, Werther departed on his
mission. He conveyed his message
to the Duke Bolstein. He left the
ducal palace in a new fright.
"War, eh?" snarled the old savage,
showing his teeth "to the knife!"
Take back that word to your old ty
rant of a master. Not a rod of the
ground shall he have. To my son it
belongs by rightful inheritance and
my son shall reign as sole master of
"What an unfortunate occur
rence!" lamented the dejected secre
tary. "What matters the paltry
honor of governing debt-ridden, un
fruitful Wogran? And war, blood
shed, devastation -in beautiful Heck
lenburg in peaceful Bolstein!"
But he was paid to serve as di
rected and Werther proceeded to visi
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