“Sire, I was on the chase.”

“You repeat that?”

“Your majesty, I repeat that.”

“Will you solemnly declare that this is true?”

Trenck was silent.

“Will you declare that this is true?” repeated the king.

The young officer looked up, and this time he had the courage to meet the flaming eye of the king.  “No, sire, I will not affirm it.”

“You confess, then, that you have told me an untruth?”

“Yes, your majesty.”

“Do you know that that is a new and grave offence?”

“Yes, your majesty, but I cannot act otherwise.”

“You will not, then, tell me the truth?”

“I cannot.”

“Not if your obstinacy will lead to your being immediately cashiered, and to your imprisonment in the fortress?”

“Not then, your majesty.  I cannot act differently.”

“Trenck, Trenck, be on your guard!  Remember that you speak to your lord and king, who has a right to demand the truth.”

“Your majesty may punish me, it is your right, and your duty, and I must bear it,” said Trenck, trembling and ghastly pale, but firm and confident in himself.

The king moved off for a few moments, then stood again before his lieutenant.  “You will report to your captain, and ask for your discharge.”

Trenck replied not.  Perhaps it was not in his power.  Two great tears ran slowly down his cheeks, and he did not restrain them.  He wept for his youth, his happiness, his honor, and his fame.

“Go!” repeated the king.

The young man bowed low.  “I thank you for gracious punishment,” he said; then turned and opened the door.

The eyes of the king had followed him with marked interest.  “Trenck!” cried he; and, as he turned and waited silently upon the threshold for the new command, the king stepped forward hastily and held out his hand.

“I am content with you!  You have gone astray, but the anguish of soul you have just now endured is a sufficient punishment.  I forgive you.”

A wild cry of joy burst from the pale lips of the youth.  He bowed low over the king’s hand, and pressed it with passionate earnestness to his lips.

“Your majesty gives me my life again!  I thank you! oh, I thank you!”

The king smiled.  “And yet your life must have but little worth for you, if you would sign it away so readily.  Once more I have forgiven you, but I warn you for the future.  Be on your guard, monsieur, or the lightning will fall and consume you.” [Footnote:  The king’s own words.  See Trenck’s “Memoires.”] And now the king’s eye was threatening, and his voice terrible in anger.  “You have guarded your secret,” he said; “you did not betray it, even when threatened with punishment worse than death.  Your honor, as a cavalier, demanded that; and I am not surprised that you hold it sacred.  But there is yet another kind of honor, which you have this day tarnished—­I