The king passed on; the cloud had discharged itself; his brow was clear, and he conversed cordially with his generals.  He did not give one glance to the poor young officer, who, pale and speechless, handed his sword to his malicious colonel, looked with anguish inexpressible toward the castle of Monbijou, and followed the two officers whose duty it was to conduct him to Potsdam.

That afternoon Mademoiselle von Marwitz waited in vain for her lover; that afternoon the Princess Amelia shed her first tears; and, for the first time, entered the ballroom by the side of her royal mother, with dejected mien and weary eyes.  The glare of light, the sound of music, the laugh and jest of the gay crowd, filled her oppressed heart with indescribable woe.  She longed to utter one mad cry and rush away, far away from all this pomp and splendor; to take refuge in her dark and lonely room; to weep, to pray, and thus exhaust her sorrow and her fears.

Perhaps the king read something of this fierce emotion in the face of the princess.  He drew near to her, and taking her hand kindly, he led her away from her mother.  “My sister,” he said, in a low voice, but in a tone which made the heart of the princess tremble, “my sister, banish the cloud from your brow, and call the smiles to your young, fresh lips.  It ill becomes a princess to be seen at a fete with a sad visage; melancholy, this evening, will be particularly unseemly.  Be on your guard; you must not decline a single dance; I wish this as your brother, I command it as your king.  Conform yourself to this.  Do you understand fully all that I have said to you, and all that I have not said?”

“I understand all, your majesty,” whispered Amelia, with the greatest difficulty keeping back the tears, which, “like a proud river, peering o’er its bounds,” filled her eyes to overflowing.

Princess Amelia danced the whole evening, she appeared gay and happy; but it did not escape the watchful eye of the Baron Pollnitz, that her smile was forced and her gayety assumed; that her eye wandered with an expression of terror toward the king, who was ever observing her.  Suddenly all was changed, and she became radiant with the fire of youth and happiness.  Mademoiselle von Marwitz, while the princess stood near her in the Francaise, had whispered:  “Compose yourself, your royal highness, there is no danger.  He has been arrested for some small military offence, that is all!” Here were indeed peace and comfort.  Amelia had been tortured by the most agonizing fears, and this news was like a messenger of peace and love.  A military offence—­that was a small affair.  A few days of light confinement, and he would return; she would see him again; and those blessed interviews, those glorious hours of rapture, would be renewed.

The princess had deceived herself.  Several days elapsed, and Trenck did not return, and she knew nothing more than that he was in Potsdam, under arrest.  Eight days had passed on leaden wings, and still he came not.  This severe punishment for a small offence began to be resented by Trenck’s comrades; they did not dare to murmur, but their countenances were clouded.