“And I, too, George, will not feel glad or tranquil until we have left the place, carrying our son with us.  I am going to work directly, and will prepare everything for our departure, and consult with my daughters.  But I must first go and see how our son is.”

The Electress hastened back to the apartments of the Electoral Prince, and old Dietrich came to meet her with joy-beaming countenance to announce to her that the Prince was awake, and felt perfectly well.  “He only feels a great weakness in his limbs, and his head is heavy.  The doctor has been here, and ordered that the Prince be kept perfectly quiet to-day, and not allowed to speak with any one or to leave his bed.  To-morrow he will be quite well again.”

“Then I will not speak to him,” exclaimed the Electress; “I will only take one look at him and give him one kiss.”

She entered her son’s sleeping room and stepped up to his couch.  The Electoral Prince smiled upon her, and his large eyes greeted her with tender glances.  He had already opened his mouth to speak, but the Electress quickly laid her hand upon his lips.

“Do not speak, my Frederick,” she whispered softly.  “Sleep and compose yourself; know that your mother tenderly loves you.  For my sake, my son, keep quiet to-day; keep your bed and talk with no one.  Will you not promise me?”

He nodded smilingly and imprinted a kiss upon the hand which his mother still held over his lips.  The Electress hurried away, and Frederick again remained alone with his old valet.

“Now, Dietrich,” he whispered softly, “now keep watch that no one enters, and let us quietly await the night.”

“Your grace thinks that the White Lady brought you good medicine last night, and that she will come again, do you not?”

“I am convinced of it, my good old man.  God has sent her for my cure.  God will not have me die already.”

“The name of the Lord be blessed and praised!” murmured Dietrich, sinking upon his knees in fervent prayer.

Deep stillness pervaded the Electoral Prince’s apartments the whole day long, for nobody dared venture in.  The doctor himself, who came toward evening, only peeped in through a crevice of the door, and nodded quite contentedly when Dietrich whisperingly told him that the Prince had again fallen into a gentle slumber.

“I knew it,” said the doctor with gravity.  “My medicine was meant to cure him by means of sleep, and I am not surprised that my calculations have proved perfectly correct.  To-morrow the Prince will be perfectly well—­that is to say, if he regularly takes my medicine.  It has been prepared for the second time, I hope?”

“Yes, indeed, doctor, and the Prince has half emptied the second bottle.”

The doctor nodded with an important air, and repaired to the Electress, to inform her that the Electoral Prince had been upon the point of taking a violent nervous fever, but that the right medicament, which he had given him, had averted this evil, and saved the Prince from imminent peril.