“Pollnitz, you are an old fox; but you have laid your foundation badly, and your whole plot is poorly conceived.  Look you!  I understand this intrigue perfectly.  You hate poor Trenck; I have long seen that.  You hate him because I honor and promote him, and you courtiers always regard those as your enemies who stand higher in favor than yourselves.  Trenck deserves his good fortune, in spite of his youth; he is a learned and accomplished officer, and a most amiable and elegant gentleman.  You cannot forgive him for this, and therefore you accuse him.  This time you shall not succeed.  I tell you I don’t believe one word of this silly scandal.  I will forget what you have dared to say; but look to it, that you also forget.  Woe to you if you do not forget; woe to you if your lips ever again utter this folly to me or to any other person!  I hold you wholly responsible.  In your own mad, malicious brain is this fairy tale conceived; it will be your fault if it goes farther, and is ever spoken of.  Conform yourself to this, sir, and retreat in time.  I repeat to you, I hold you responsible.  Now go, without a word, and send me my adjutant—­it is high time for parade.”

“Flashed in the pan, completely flashed,” said Pollnitz to himself, as with a courtly bow and a smiling lip he took leave of the king.  “I had hoped at least for a small reward, if it was only to see that I had made him angry.  Alas! this man is invulnerable; all my files wear away on him.”

Could he have seen what an expression of care and anguish overshadowed the king’s face when he was alone—­could he have heard the king’s sighs and the broken words of sorrow and despair which he uttered, the wicked heart of the master of ceremonies would have been filled with gladness.  But Frederick indulged himself in this weakness but a short time; he drew his royal mantle over his aching heart, he cast the veil of sadness from his eyes, and armed them with the might of majesty.

“This rendezvous shall not take place; this romantic adventure shall come to an end.  I will it!” said he, with an energy which only those can feel whose will is law, and from whose words there is no appeal.

Frederick took his hat and entered the vestibule, where his staff awaited to accompany him to the parade.  The king greeted them all sternly, and, passing by them rapidly, he descended the steps.

“The king is very ungracious,” whispered the officers amongst each other.  “Woe to him upon whom his anger falls to-day!”

A storm-cloud did indeed rest upon the brow of the king; his eye looked fierce and dangerous.  The regiment stood in line, the king drew up in front; suddenly he paused, his face grew black—­his eye had found an object for destruction.

“Lieutenant Trenck,” said he, in a loud and threatening tone, “you have this moment arrived, you are again too late.  I demand of my officers that they shall be punctual in my service.  More than once I have shown you consideration, and you seem to be incurable.  I will now try the power of severity.  Colonel Jaschinsky, Lieutenant Trenck is in arrest, till you hear further from me; take his sword from him, and transport him to Potsdam.”