He requests of the Elector an interview in the little Chinese pavilion near the conservatory, and with smiling, free, and cordial manner tells him how much the Queen and King love him.

“And I reciprocate their feelings with all my heart,” answers the Elector.  “These delightful days, like brilliant stars, will ever live in my remembrance.  Tell their Majesties so.”

“Your highness should carry home with you a lasting memento of these days,” whispered the courtier.

“What mean you, Count Doenhof?”

“I believe that if you were to ask the hand of Princess Hildegarde, their Majesties would cheerfully grant you their consent and bestow upon you a royal bride.”

Gravely the Elector shook his head.  “No,” he said solemnly—­“no, Count Doenhof, so long as I can not govern my land in peace, I dare seek no other bride than my own good sword.” [54]

And smilingly, as if he had heard nothing, as if nothing uncommon had happened, the Elector returns to the conservatory.

The Princess Hildegarde also smiles, looks cheerful and happy, and dances with all the cavaliers.  But not with the Elector!  He does not approach her again.

She seems not to perceive this, and maintains her cheerfulness, even when at last he approaches the Princesses to take leave of them.

“Farewell, Sir Elector!  May you have a prosperous journey home and be happy!” So say her lips.  What says her heart?

That nobody knows.  The Princess has a tender but proud heart!  Only at night was heard a low sobbing and wailing in the Princess’s chamber.  When morning broke though it was hushed.  That is the deepest grief which must shun the light of day, and only find vent and expression in the curtained darkness of night.

Poor Hildegarde!  Poor King’s daughter!  Scorned!  The Emperor’s grandchild scorned by the little Elector of Brandenburg!

He has returned home; he has shaken from his feet the dust of that humbling pilgrimage.  The States of the duchy of Prussia had long delayed swearing allegiance to the Elector, feeling that they had been aggrieved as to their rights and privileges.  Now at last all difficulties had been adjusted and the deputies of Prussia were ready to do homage to their Duke.  Upon an open tribune before the palace stood the Elector, with bared head and radiant countenance, and in front of him at the foot of the throne the deputies from his duchy.  They swore faithfulness and devotion, and, as in Warsaw, so in Koenigsberg the bells rang, and trumpets and drums sent forth triumphant sounds.  The roar of cannon announced to Koenigsberg and all Prussia that to-day the Duke and his States were joined in a compact of concord, love, and unity!

“Leuchtmar,” said the Elector, inclining toward the friend whom he had summoned from Sweden, on purpose to be present at this festivity—­“Leuchtmar, in this hour the first germ of my future has put forth buds!”