“So be it, dear Leuchtmar.  Return to Stockholm.  Strike the iron while it is hot.  Much I hope from this armistice.  It will make the lords of Warsaw, Regensburg, and Vienna more pliant and yielding, for it will show them that the Elector of Brandenburg is no longer drifting helplessly about in a leaky boat, but that he has succeeded at least in stopping one hole and keeping himself above water!  And now, friend Leuchtmar, how fared you in your secret mission?  Did you hand my letter to the young Queen?”

“Yes, your highness; I even had the opportunity of delivering it to her in a private audience without witnesses.”

“And did she accept it in a kind and friendly manner?”

“Gracious sir,” replied Leuchtmar, smiling, “a queen of fourteen years of age is very sensitive with regard to her dignity, and takes it very ill if she is not treated with due reverence and extreme devotion.”

“Was my missive wanting in these respects?” asked Frederick William.

“I beg your highness’s pardon, but the young Queen seemed to be rather of this opinion.  She was visibly delighted when I handed her your letter, and especially delighted that she received it secretly, without witnesses, and not in the presence of Chancellor Oxenstiern, whose guardianship seems to be very irksome and unpleasant to her.  The young Queen blushed, sir, when she took your letter, and I must confess that at this moment she looked pretty and graceful enough to be the wife of my gracious master.  But her countenance soon became clouded, as she read your communication, whose contents seemed to afford her little satisfaction.”

“But she answered my letter, did she not, and you bring me her reply?”

“Oh, yes, most gracious sir, she answered it, and I have with me Queen Christina’s reply.  But I must beforehand make your grace an apology for this answer.”

“Well, let me see it, Leuchtmar.  Give me the answer.”

Leuchtmar drew a folded paper from his pocket, and handed it to the Elector, who unfolded it.  A number of torn bits of paper fell to the floor.

“What is that, Leuchtmar?” asked the Elector in amazement.

“Your highness,” replied Leuchtmar, “that is Queen Christina’s answer.”

The Elector picked up a few of the larger scraps of paper, and examined them attentively.  “It seems to me, Leuchtmar,” he said, “that I recognize specimens of my own penmanship.  Yes, yes, it is my writing!”

“Yes, indeed, your highness, it is your own writing.  It is your letter to Queen Christina of Sweden.”

“She sends it back to me torn?”

“She tore it with her own exalted hands, trampled it under her royal feet, and literally wept for rage.”

“My heavens! what have I done to enrage her little Majesty so?”