“Is this letter sufficient?” demanded the princess.  “Shall Trenck be free?”

“I have promised it, and will keep my word.  Fold the letter and direct it.  It shall be forwarded at once.”

“And when will he be free?”

“I cannot set him at liberty immediately.  It would be setting my officers a bad example.  But in three months he shall be free.”

“In three months, then.  Here is the letter, sire.”

The king took the letter and placed it in his bosom.

“And now, my sister, come to my heart,” said he, holding out his arms.  “The king was angry with you, the brother will weep with you.  Come, Amelia, come to your brother’s heart.”

Amelia did not throw herself in his arms; she stood still, and seemed not to have heard, not to have understood his words.

“I pray that your majesty will allow me to retire,” said she.  “I think we have finished—­we have to other business to transact.”

“Oh! my sister,” said Frederick, mournfully, “think of what you are doing; do not harden your heart against me.  Believe me, I suffer with you; and if the only question were the sacrifice of my personal wishes, I would gladly yield.  But I must consider my ancestors, the history of my house, and the prejudices of the world.  Amelia, I cannot, I dare not do otherwise.  Forgive me, my sister.  And now, once more, let us hold firmly to each other in love and trust.  Let me fold you to my heart.”

He advanced and extended his hand, but his sister slowly recoiled.

“Allow me to remind your majesty that a poor unhappy woman is awaiting a word of consolation in the next room, and that this woman is Trenck’s mother.  She, at least, will be happy when I inform her that her son will soon be free.  Permit me, therefore, sire, to take my leave, and bear her this good news.”

She bowed formally and profoundly, and walked slowly across the room.  The king no longer endeavored to hold her back.  He followed her with a mournful, questioning glance, still hoping that she would turn and seek a reconciliation.  She reached the door, now she turned.  The king stepped forward rapidly, hut Princess Amelia bowed ceremoniously and disappeared.

“Lost!  I have lost her,” sighed the king.  “Oh, my God! must I then part from all that I love?  Was it not enough to lose my friends by death? will cruel fate also rob me of a loved and living sister?  Ah!  I am a poor, a wretched man, and yet they call me a king.”

Frederick slowly seated himself, and covered his face with his hands.  He remained in this position for a long time, his sighs being the only interruption to the silence which reigned in the apartment.

“Work!  I will work,” said he proudly.  “This is at least a consolation, and teaches forgetfulness.”

He walked hurriedly to his escritoire, seated himself, and regarded the manuscripts and papers which lay before him.  He took up one of the manuscripts and began to read, but with an impatient gesture he soon laid it aside.