VIII. “A KIND OF WILD JUSTICE.”
XII. THE CHURCH MILITANT AND ORTHODOX.
XVI. THE HOUSE OF THE LADY ZENOBIA.
XVIII. THE PENALTY OF GREATNESS.
XXII. THE HISTORY OF AN EVENING.
XXIV. “THE BITTER CLOSE OF ALL.”
It was a brilliant afternoon in late spring, and Vindobona wastaking its pleasure joyously out of doors, as is its wont. The manyparks and gardens of the city were crowded with holiday-makers inevery variety of national costume and speaking the tongues of all theearth, and in the boulevards of the Ringstrasse a well-dressed throngmade the pavements almost impassable. There was not a vacant seat tobe found at the rows of tables outside each café, where strange andwonderful liquids were being consumed in vast quantities, but with adeliberation that implied the possession of unlimited leisure. No oneseemed to have anything to do but to walk and talk, salute hisacquaintances and criticise the rest of the world, pause for a whileto refresh the inner man and then saunter on again, and this wasindeed the case. The true citizen of Vindobona always has time forholiday-making, whatever other duties he may neglect, and those whomake a study of his weaknesses calculate confidently upon this amiablepeculiarity. This saint’s day afternoon,