The king, however, had seen all; his keen eye had observed Trenck’s rapid approach, and his glowing, heated countenance; and as he rode to the front, he drew in his horse directly before Trenck.

“How comes it that your horse is fatigued and sweating?  I must suppose he is fresh from the stable, and his master just from his bed.  It appears, however, that he has been delayed there; I see that he has just arrived upon the parade-ground.”

The officer murmured a few incomprehensible words.

“Will you answer me?” said the king; “is your horse just from the stable—­are you directly from your bed?”

Frederick von Trenck’s head had been bowed humbly upon his breast, he now raised it boldly up; he was resolved; his fierce eyes met those of the king.  “No, your majesty,” said he, with a cool, composed mien, “my horse is not from the stable—­I am not from my bed.”

There was a pause, an anxious, breathless pause.  Every eye was fixed observantly upon the king, whose severity in military discipline was known and feared.

“Do you know,” said the king at last, “that I command my officers to be punctual at parade?”

“Yes, sire.”

“Do you know that it is positively forbidden to leave Potsdam without permission?”

“Yes, your majesty.”

“Well, then, since this was known to you, where have you been?  You confess that you do not come from your dwelling?”

“Sire, I was on the chase, and loitered too long.  I know I am guilty of a great misdemeanor, and I expect my pardon only from the grace of my king.”

The king smiled, and his glance was mild and kindly.  “You expect also, as it appears, under any circumstances, a pardon?  Well, this time you shall not be disappointed.  I am well pleased that you have been bold enough to speak the truth.  I love truthful people; they are always brave.  This time you shall go unpunished, but beware of the second offence.  I warn you.”

Alas! what power had even a king’s warning over the passionate love of a youth of eighteen?  Trenck soon forgot the danger from which he had escaped; and even if remembered, it would not have restrained him.

It was again a cloudy, dark night, and he knew that the princess expected him.  As he stood again upon the balcony, guarded by the watchful master of ceremonies; as he listened to the sweet music of Amelia’s voice and comprehended the holy and precious character of her girlish and tender nature; as he sat at her feet, pouring out the rich treasures of his love and happiness, and felt her trembling small white hand upon his brow; as he dreamed with her of a blessed and radiant future, in which not only God and the night but the king and the whole world might know and recognize their love—­how could he remember that the king had ordered the parade at seven in the morning, and that it was even now impossible for him to reach Potsdam at that hour?