killing the flies.

"Ha!" he exclaimed, striking a fly, "ha! brother Charles, this
stroke is intended for you. Really, there lies the fly writhing, as
the generalissimo did, on the floor. But he has a tougher life than
the fly; for the fly will writhe until it is dead, but the
generalissimo always revives; and when he has no fits, he is a very
brave and illustrious man, before whom his emperor must humbly stand
aside. I cannot take the fly-flap and strike his writhing limbs as I
do this miserable fly, the little Archduke Charles, that is writhing
on the floor there. So, now you are dead, confounded little brother
Charles, and we will hunt for your brother John. See, see, there he
sits on the wall, cleaning his wings and making himself tidy and
pretty. There! There is an affectionate blow from your imperial
brother, and you are done for. Now you will never fly to YOUR
mountaineers and BRING them freedom and salvation. You will, on the
contrary, stick to the wall of your emperor's room, and learn that
your brother is your master. Why, this is most amusing sport to day!
I shall not stop before killing a dozen Archdukes Charles and John!"

And Francis hunted eagerly on the walls and the furniture for other
flies, which he pursued and killed with his fly-flap, always
applying the name of Charles to one, and that of John to the next.

In the excitement of this strange sport he had not noticed that,
soon after he entered the cabinet, the door had opened, and
Counsellor von Hudelist had come in. Francis did not remember at
that moment that he had given express orders to Hudelist to re-enter
the cabinet as soon as he heard the emperor return to it; he had
fixed his thoughts exclusively on the cruel pleasure of killing the