And he leaned his head on Leuchtmar’s shoulder and wept bitterly.  A long pause ensued.  No one of the three could interrupt it, for speech remained locked upon the trembling lips of all, and only their tears, their sighs spoke.  Then the door slowly opened, and the private secretary, Mueller, appeared upon the threshold.  For a moment he stood still, and looked with quivering lips upon the Prince, who was just slowly extricating himself from Leuchtmar’s embrace, then he stepped resolutely forward.

“Your highness,” he said, “forgive me for venturing to intrude my presence here, without having been summoned.  But old Dietrich dared not take the step which I do now, and so the responsibility rests upon myself alone.”

“And what is it?” asked the Prince.  “What brings you to me, my dear, true friend?”

“He calls me his dear, true friend!” rejoiced Mueller.

“All is right again, then—­all is in order!  We are not dismissed—­we are not sent home!”

“You may be, after all, my old friend,” said the Electoral Prince, with a feeble smile.  “But what would you say to me?  What sort of responsibility have you taken upon yourself?”

“Prince, I have taken upon myself the responsibility of admitting into your cabinet the veiled lady who has just come, and of requesting you to grant her the audience for which she has been besieging Dietrich with tears and lamentations.  Dietrich, however, would not hear to it, and the lady continually called for Eberhard to come—­Eberhard must lead her to the Prince.  But, as Dietrich says, this is not Eberhard’s week of service, so that he can not enter here.  I was attracted to the antechamber by the loud conversation, and now the lady turned upon me, and pleaded so touchingly and so eloquently, that I could not refuse to grant her request.  Your highness, I have conducted the lady into your cabinet, and she awaits you there.”

“But, Mueller,” cried Baron Leuchtmar despairingly, “what have you done?  How could you be so inconsiderate?”

The old man drew himself up, and his mild eye grew angry.  “Inconsiderate!  I was not at all inconsiderate, Baron Leuchtmar.  On the contrary, I thought it would be unworthy of a noble Prince to allow a woman to plead in vain, and I thought, moreover, that Hercules would never have become a hero if he had not had the valor to meet the women who greeted him at the crossing of the roads.”

“You have done right, Mueller,” said Frederick William, with a faint smile; “it will be seen whether Hercules was perhaps my forefather.  I shall speak to the lady.  Wait for me here.”

He crossed the apartment hastily, and entered his cabinet.  In the center of the room stood a veiled female form.  The Prince, however, recognized her, although her face could not be seen, for he knew her by her pretty coquettish costume to be the Princess Ludovicka’s French chambermaid, and he stepped quickly up to her.