“Yes, your highness, I have executed it.”

“You have been to Holland?  At The Hague and at Doornward?”

“I have been there, gracious sir!”

“You have been there,” repeated Frederick William, drawing a deep breath.  “O Leuchtmar! you men in private life are happy because you are free.  You can go whither you will, and follow the dictates of your own hearts.  But we, poor slaves to our position, must accommodate ourselves to circumstances, and patiently submit to the laws of necessity.  How often has it seemed to me as if my longings could not be repressed, as if I must break all bonds and hasten to that free and happy land where the fairest days of my life were passed.  How often, in reflecting upon the past, has it seemed as if a fire were kindled in my breast, mounting in clear flames to my head to lay my reason in ashes.  But I durst not allow this, and with my own sighs extinguished the leaping flames, and, Leuchtmar, shall I confess it?  At this moment I am cowardly, and speak so much, because—­yes, because I lack the courage to ask one open question.  But I will be bold and courageous, I will conquer my poor, foolish heart.  Tell me, then, Leuchtmar, what I must know!  I sent you to Holland to obtain certain information with regard to the evil reports which have been circulated here.  I gave no credit whatever to them, for I knew they were anxious that I should contract a certain marriage, and would therefore crush the love I was cherishing for another person.  And yet this other lived within my heart, and when I closed my eyes I saw her before me in all her beauty and loveliness, and at night, when all the troubles of the day were over, and I was alone in my chamber, she was near me, speaking to me and consoling me with the sweet, kind words she whispered to my heart.  Ah, you see, Leuchtmar, I am but a very young man, and—­courage, courage! out with the question!  Have you seen the Princess Ludovicka Hollandine?”

As Frederick William asked this question he walked to the window and turned his back to the room.  A pause ensued, then Leuchtmar replied, in gentle, sorrowful tones, “No, gracious sir, I have not seen the Princess.”

A shudder passed over the Prince’s frame, but he did not turn around.

“Why did you not visit her?  Why did you not see her, when I had commissioned you to speak with the Princess herself?”

“Most noble sir, I could not speak with the Princess, for she was no longer at The Hague.”

“No longer in Holland?” asked the Elector, and his question sounded like a cry of grief wrung from a tortured heart.  “Where was she then?  Where was Ludovicka?”

“Most noble sir, you have imposed upon me the duty of always telling you the truth, but at this moment I feel it to be a difficult duty.”

“Perform it, Leuchtmar, I require you to do so!  Where was the Princess Ludovicka, if she was no longer with her mother?”