Old Jock, who stood next to the door, and who looked quite grand in his artfully patched livery of state—­old Jock had already just opened his mouth for another thundering hurrah, when the Electoral Prince laid his hand gently upon his shoulder.

“Hush, Jock, hush! do not shout,” he said, loud enough to be heard by everybody.  “It is enough that I read my welcome in your eyes, and not necessary for your lips to pronounce the words aloud.  Our much-loved and gracious father is sick and suffering, and we must not therefore allow his rest to be disturbed by loud noises.  Be quiet and silent, therefore, and only believe me when I say that I know I am welcome to you all!”

He gave them one more friendly nod, and stepped out upon the long corridor, on the other side of which lay his own apartments.  Quickly he went on, opened the door of the antechamber with a vigorous pressure of his hand, and entered.  The trunks and other baggage lay in wild disorder, heaped up in the outer hall, and old Dietrich, with a few other servants and lackeys, was busied in untying parcels and unpacking.  The Electoral Prince went hurriedly past, and entered his sleeping room.  Here, too, he found all in confusion; the dust lay thick upon the unwieldy old furniture, whose cushions were covered with faded and even here and there ragged tapestry.  From the walls, hung with discolored papering, a few old ancestral portraits looked gravely and gloomily down upon him, and their melancholy eyes seemed to ask him what he wanted here, and why he had come to awaken them from their repose, and disturb the dust which had been collecting for years.  It seemed to the Prince as if he heard this inhospitable question quite clearly uttered by the lips of his ancestor Albert Achilles, before whose picture he was just passing, and whose large, glittering eyes seemed to look out in defiance.  Frederick William stopped and looked at his forefather with a sad smile.  “I have come much against my will, Elector Albert Achilles,” he said.  “I assure you, very much against my will, and if I did not think of the future, I would go away again and never come back.  But for the sake of the future the present must be endured; therefore forgive me, my great, valiant ancestor, and believe me I will do you honor!”

He nodded to the picture and strode on, advancing into the next room, which was to be his study.  Here everything was still exactly as he had left it almost four years ago.  The old furniture stood unmoved in its familiar places; there was still the brown varnished writing table at which he had formerly applied himself to his studies, in company with his tutor Leuchtmar von Kalkhun; beside it stood the simple, rude book shelves, and on them, covered with dust and cobwebs, the old leather-bound volumes from which he had drunk in knowledge and wisdom.  Before both windows hung, just as then, the dark red silken curtains, only that the sun had partially deprived them of their