The integrity of Hungary is sorely threatened; and if your majesty refuse to rescue it, we must ourselves hasten to the rescue. Not only our liberties are menaced, but our moneyed interests too. Hungary is on the road to ruin, if your majesty does not consent to revoke your arbitrary laws, or--"

"Or?"--asked Joseph, as Palfy hesitated.

"On the road to revolution," replied the deputy firmly.

"You presume to threaten me!" cried Joseph, in a loud voice.

"I dare deliver the message intrusted to me, and, had I been too weak to speak it, intrusted to those who accompany me. Is it not so, Magyars?"

"It is, it is," cried all, unanimously.

"Sire, I repeat to you that Hungary is advancing either toward ruin or revolution. Like the Netherlanders, we will defend our constitution or die with it. Oh, your majesty, all can yet be remedied! Call a convention of the states--return the crown of St. Stephen, and come to Hungary to take the coronation oath. Then you will see how gladly we shall swear allegiance to our king, and how cheerfully we will die for him, as our fathers did before us, in defence of the empress-queen, his mother."

"Give us our constitution, and we will die for our king!" cried the Magyars in chorus.

"Yes, humble myself before you!" exclaimed Joseph, furiously.

"You would have the sovereign bow before the will of his vassals!"

"No, sire," returned Count Palfy, with feeling. "We would have your majesty adopt the only means by which Hungary can be retained to the Austrian empire. If you refuse to hear us, we rise, as one man, to defend our country. We swear it in the name of the Hungarian nation!"

"We swear it in the name of the Hungarian nation!" echoed the Magyars.

"And I," replied Joseph, pale and trembling with passion, "I swear it in the name of my dignity as your sovereign, that I never will yield to men who defy me, nor will I ever forgive those who, by treasonable importunity, have sought to wring from me what I have not thought it expedient to grant to respectful expostulation!"

"Sire, if you would give this proof of love to your subjects, if, for their sakes, you would condescend to forget your imperial station, you cannot conceive what enthusiasm of loyalty would be your return for this concession. In mortal anxiety we await your final answer, and await it until to-morrow at this hour."

"Ah!--you are so magnanimous as to grant me a short reprieve!" shouted the infuriated emperor, losing all command of himself. "You--"

Suddenly he ceased, and became very pale. He was sensible that he had burst a blood-vessel, and he felt the warm stream of his life welling upward, until it moistened his pallid lips. With a hasty movement he drew out his handkerchief, held it for a moment before his mouth, and then replaced it quickly in his bosom. Large drops of cold sweat stood out from his brow, and the light faded from his eyes. But these haughty Magyars should not see him fall! They should not enjoy the sight of his sufferings!

With one last desperate effort he collected his expiring energies, and stood erect.

"Go," said he, in firm, distinct tones; "you have stated your grievances, you shall have my answer to-morrow."

"We await your majesty until to-morrow at noon," returned Count Palfy.

"Then we go, never to return."

"Go!" cried the emperor, in a piercing voice; and the exasperated Magyars mistook this last cry of agony for the culmination of his wrath.

They bowed in sullen silence, and left the room.

The emperor reeled back to his cabinet, and fell into a chair. He reached the bell, and rang it feebly.

"Gunther," said he to his valet, and now his voice was hardly audible, "send a carriage for Quarin. I must see him at once."

CHAPTER CLXXV.

THE REVOCATION.

When Quarin entered the emperor's cabinet, he found him quietly seated before his escritoire half buried in documents: The physician remained standing at the door, waiting until he should be ordered to approach.

Suddenly Joseph was interrupted in his writing by a spell of coughing.

He dropped his pen, and leaned back exhausted. Quarin hastened to his side.

"Your majesty must not write," said he, gravely. "You must lay aside all work for a time."

"I believe that I shall have to lay it aside forever," replied Joseph, languidly. "I sent for you to say that I have a lawsuit with my lungs, and you must tell me which of us is to gain it." [Footnote: Joseph's own words.--"Characteristics of Joseph II." p. 14]

"What am I to tell your majesty?" asked the physician, disturbed.

The emperor looked up with eyes which glowed with the flaming light of fever. "Quarin, you understand me perfectly. You must tell me, in regard to this lawsuit with my lungs, which is to gain it, myself or death?

Here is my evidence."

With these words he drew out his handkerchief and held it open between his wan, transparent hands. It was dyed in blood.

"Blood!" exclaimed Quarin, in a tone of alarm. "Your majesty has received a wound?"

"Yes, an interior wound. The Hungarians have dealt me my death-blow.

This blood is welling up from a wounded heart. Do not look so mournful, doctor. Let us speak of death as man to man. Look at me now, and say whether my malady is incurable."

"Why should it be incurable?" asked the physician, faltering. "You are young, sire, and have a sound constitution."

"No commonplaces, Quarin, no equivocation," cried Joseph, impatiently.

"I must have the truth, do you hear me?--the truth. I cannot afford to be surprised by death, for I must provide for a nation, and my house must be set in order. I am not afraid of death, my friend; it comes to me in the smiling guise of a liberator. Therefore be frank, and tell the at once whether my malady is dangerous."

Again he raised his large, brilliant eyes to the face of the physician.

Quarin's features were convulsed with distress, and tears stood in his eyes. His voice was very tremulous as he replied

"Yes, sire, it is dangerous."

The emperor's countentance remained perfectly calm. "Can you tell me with any degree of precision how long I have to live?"

"No, sire; you may live yet for several weeks, or some excitement may put an end to your existence in a few days. In this malady the patient must be prepared at any moment for death."

"Then it is incurable?"

"Yes, sire," faltered Quarin, his tears bursting forth afresh.

The emperor looked thoughtfully before him, and for some time kept silence. Then extending his hand with a smile, he said,

"From my soul I thank you for the manly frankness with which you have treated me, Quarin, and I desire now to give you a testimony of my gratitude. You have children, have you not?"

"Yes, sire--two daughters."

"And you are not rich, I believe?"