“I confess it, and I am now most curious to hear the words which you fear will bring my displeasure upon you.”

“Sire, I have been for more than forty years a faithful servant of your exalted house.  Will you not admit this?”

“Faithful?” repeated Frederick; “you were faithful to us when it was to your advantage:  you deserted us when you thought it to your interest to do so.  I reproached you with this in former times, but now that I know the world better, I forgive you.  Go on, then, with your pathetic appeal.”

“Your majesty has often commanded me to make known to you every thing which the good people say of your royal family, and when any one dared to whisper a slander against you or yours, to inform you of it at once.”

“Does any one dare to do that?” said the king, with an expression of anguish upon his noble face.

“Yes, sire.”

The king breathed a heavy sigh, and walked hastily up and down; then placing himself before the window, and turning his back on Pollnitz, he said, “Go on.”

“Sire, it is lightly whispered that the young Lieutenant Trenck has dared to love a lady who is so far above him in her bright radiance and royal birth, that he should not dare to lift his eyes to her face except in holy reverence.”

“I have been told that he was the lover of Mademoiselle von Marwitz,” said the king.

“The world and the good Berliners believe that, but the initiated know that this pretended love is only a veil thrown by the bold youth over a highly traitorous passion.”

Pollnitz was silent; he waited for the king to speak, and watched him with a malicious smile.  Frederick still stood with his face to the window, and saw nothing of this.

“Shall I go on?” said Pollnitz at last.

“I command you to do so,” said the king.

Pollnitz drew nearer.  “Sire,” said he, half aloud, “allow me to say what no one knows but myself.  Baron Trenck visits Mademoiselle von Marwitz every day, but a third person is ever present at these interviews.”

“And this third person is—­”

“The Princess Amelia!”

The king turned hastily, and the glance which he fixed upon Pollnitz was so flashing, so threatening, that even the bold and insolent master of ceremonies trembled.  “Are you convinced of the truth of what you have stated?” said he harshly.

“Sire,” said he, “if you wish to convince yourself, it is only necessary to go this evening between five and six o’clock, unannounced, into the rooms of the Princess Amelia.  You will then see that I have spoken truth.”

Frederick did not reply; he stepped again to the window. and looked silently into the street.  Once more he turned to Pollnitz, and his face was clear and smiling.