She rushed to the door, but Frederick sprang after her; he drew her back, madly but silently; his eyes were radiant with joy.

“Remain,” said he; “I command you—­I, not the king.”  He placed his lips to her ear and whispered two words:  her soft cheeks were crimson.

At this moment there was a knock upon the door, the portiere was thrown back, and the wan, suffering face of Fredersdorf was seen.

“Sire,” said he, “your majesty commanded me to summon Baron Swartz; he is here, and waits for your orders.”

“Let him enter,” said the king; then smiling upon Barbarina, he said, “He comes just in time; we must sign our contract, Swartz shall act as our priest.”

He advanced to meet the intendant, and asked for the contract between Barbarina and himself.  He read it carefully, and said, “There are only a few things to alter.”  He stepped to his desk and added a few words to the contract.

“Signora,” said he, turning backward, “will you come here for a moment?”

Barbarina, embarrassed and blushing, drew near.  In the back part of the room stood Baron Swartz, watching the king and Barbarina with a sly smile; near him stood Fredersdorf, whose pale and melancholy face was brought out in strong relief by the dark velvet portiere.

“Read this,” said the king to Barbarina, pointing to the words he had just written.  “Have you read?”

“Yes, sire.”

Frederick raised his head, and slightly turning, his glowing glance rested upon Barbarina, who, ashamed and confused, cast her eyes to the ground.

“Will you sign this?”

“I will, sire,” said she, almost inaudibly.

“You bind yourself to remain here for three years, and not to marry during that time?” [Footnote:  By this contract, Barbarina received an income of seven thousand thalers and five months’ liberty during each year; but she was bound not to marry during this term of three years.—­Schneider.]

“I do, sire.”

“Take the pen and sign our contract.—­Come forward, Swartz, and witness this document.—­Fredersdorf, is your seal at hand?”

The contract was ready.

“You will say, ‘This is a sad contract,’” said the king, turning to Fredersdorf.

“Yes, sad indeed.  The king deals as cruelly with the Barbarina as he has done with his poor secretary.  This cold king does not believe in marriage.”

“No, no!  Fredersdorf, I will prove to you that you are mistaken.  I have been told that you are ill because I will not allow you to marry.  Now, then, Fredersdorf, I will not be hard-hearted.  I have to-day made an innocent sacrifice to my hatred of matrimony.  The signora has bound herself not to marry for three years.  For her sake, I will be gracious to you:  go and marry the woman you love, and when the priest has made you one, you shall take your wife to Paris for the honeymoon, at my cost.”

Fredersdorf seized the hand of the king, kissed it, and covered it with his tears.  Barbarina gazed at the handsome, glowing face of Frederick with admiration.  She understood him fully; she felt that he was happy, and wished all around him to partake of his joy.