Frederick greeted him once more, and then stepped lightly onward toward the city.  The coach of the abbot returned slowly to the cloister.

The king had advanced but a short distance, when the sound of an approaching horse met his car.  He stood still and looked down the highway.  This time the Austrian uniform did not meet his eye; he recognized in the distance the Prussian colors, and as the horse approached nearer, he marked the uniform of a young officer of his life-guard.  Before Frederick found time for surprise, the rider had reached him, checked his horse with a strong hand, sprang from the saddle, bowed profoundly before the king, and reached him the reins.

“Will not your majesty do me the favor to mount my horse?” said Trenck, calm and unembarrassed, and without alluding by word or smile to the adventure of the day.

The king looked at him searchingly.  “From whence come you?” said he sternly.

“From Glatz, where the pandours carried me as a prisoner, and delivered me to Colonel Trenck.”

“You were then a prisoner, and were released without ransom?”

“Colonel Trenck laughed merrily when his pandours delivered me to him, and declared I was the King of Prussia.”

“Colonel Trenck knows you?”

“Sire, I saw him often in my father’s house.”

“Go on:  he recognized you, then?”

“He knew me, and said laughingly, he had sent to take Frederick, King of Prussia, and not Frederick von Trenck, prisoner.  I was free, I might go where I wished, and as I could not go on foot, he presented me with one of his best horses; and now I am here, will not your majesty do me the honor to mount this horse?”

“I mount no Austrian horse,” said the king in a harsh tone.

The young officer fixed his glance for one moment, with an expression of regret upon the proud and noble animal, who with dilating nostrils, flashing eyes, and impatient stamping of the fore-feet, stood by his side, arching gracefully his finely-formed and muscular throat.  But this expression of regret soon vanished.  He let go the bridle and bowing to the king he said, “I am at your majesty’s command.”

The king glanced backward at the noble steed, who, slender and graceful and swift as a gazelle, was in a moment so far distant as to be no larger than a flying eagle.  He then advanced toward Frankenstein:  both were silent; neither gave another thought to the gallant horse, who, riderless and guided by instinct alone, was far on the way to Glatz.  Once before they reached the city, the king turned and fixed his eyes upon the open, youthful, and handsome face of Trenck.

“I believe it would be better for you if this colonel of pandours were not your relation,” said the king thoughtfully; “there can no good come to you from this source, but only evil.”

Frederick von Trenck turned pale.  “Does your majesty command that I shall change my name?”