me of the only ray of sunshine which enters my dark prison.  I must be free in order to know this.  I will believe in nothing which I do not see written in her beautiful face; only when her lips speak these fearful words, will I believe them.  I must be free, and until then I must forget all other things, even this terrible letter.  My thoughts, my eyes, my heart, my soul, must have but one aim—­my liberty!”

Alas! the year drew near its close, and the goal was not reached; indeed, the difficulties were greatly increased.  The commandant, Von Fouquet, had just received stern orders from Berlin; the watch had been doubled, and the officers in the citadel had been peremptorily forbidden to enter the cell of the prisoner, or in any way to show him kindness or attention.

The officers loved the young and cheerful prisoner; by his fresh and hopeful spirit, his gay laugh and merry jest, he had broken up the everlasting monotony of their garrison-life; by his powerful intellect and rich fancy he had, in some degree, dissipated their weariness and stupidity.  They felt pity for his youth, his beauty, his geniality, his energetic self-confidence; his bold courage imposed upon them, and they were watching curiously and anxiously to see the finale of this contest between the poor, powerless, imprisoned youth, and the haughty, stern commander, who had sworn to Trenck that he should not succeed in making even an attempt to escape, to which Trenck had laughingly replied: 

“I will not only make an attempt to escape, I will fly in defiance of all guards, and all fortress walls, and all commandants.  I inhale already the breath of liberty which is wafted through my prison.  Do you not see how the Goddess of Liberty, with her enchanting smile, stands at the head of my wretched bed, sings her sweet evening songs to the poor prisoner, and wakes him in the early morning with the sound of trumpets?  Oh, sir commandant, Liberty loves me, and soon will she take me like a bride in her fair arms, and bear me off to freedom!”

The commandant had doubled the guard, and forbidden the officers, under heavy penalty, to have any intercourse with Trenck.  Formerly, the officers who had kept watch over Trenck, had been allowed to enter, to remain and eat with him; now the door was closed against them, the major kept the key, and Trenck’s food was handed him through the window. [Footnote:  Trenck’s Memoirs.] But this window was large, and the officer on guard could put his head in and chat awhile with the prisoner.  The major had the principal key, but the officer had a night-key, and, by this means, entered often in the evenings and passed a few hours with the prisoner, listening with astonishment to his plans of escape, and his dreams of a happy future.

But they did not all come to speak of indifferent things, and to be cheered and brightened by his gay humor.  There were some who truly loved him, and wished to give him counsel and aid.  One came because he had promised his beloved mistress, his bride, to liberate Trenck, cost what it would.  This was Lieutenant Schnell, the bridegroom of Amelia’s maid of honor.  One day, thanks to the night-key, he entered Trenck’s cell.