“The king is very good; but I am not ill—­I do not suffer.”

“But, your royal highness, your eyes suffer.  They are weak and inflamed:  allow me to examine them.”

“Yes, as my brother has commanded it; but I warn you, you cannot heal them.”

Meckel, the physician, examined her eyes with the closest attention, then shook his head thoughtfully.

“Princess,” said he at last, in low, respectful tones, “if you grant your eyes no rest; if, instead of sleeping quietly, you pass the night pacing your room; if you continue to exhaust your eyes by constant weeping, the most fatal consequences may result.”

“Do you mean I will become blind?” said Amelia, quietly.

“I mean your eyes are suffering; that, however, is no acute disease; but your whole nervous system is in a dangerous condition, and all this must be rectified before your eyes can be healed.”

“Prescribe something, then, as his majesty has commanded it,” said Amelia, coldly.

“I will give your royal highness a remedy; but it is of so strong and dangerous a nature, that it must be used only with the utmost caution.  It is a liquid; it must be heated, and you must allow the steam to pass into your eyes.  Your highness must be very, very careful.  The substances in this mixture are so strong, so corrosive, that if you approach too near the steam, it will not only endanger your eyes, but your face and your voice.  You must keep your mouth firmly closed, and your eyes at least ten inches above the vessel from which the steam is rising.  Will your highness remember all this, and act as I have directed?”

“I will remember it,” said Amelia, replying only to the first part of his question.

Meckel did not remark this.  He wrote his prescription and withdrew, once more reminding Amelia of the caution necessary.

As has been said, this was the last day of grace.  The princess seemed calm and resigned.  Even to her confidential maid she uttered no complaints.  The steaming mixture was prepared, and, while Amelia held herself some distance above it, as the physician had commanded, she said laughingly to Ernestine:  “I must strive to make my eyes bright, that my brother may be pleased, or at least that he may not be excited against me.”

The prescription seemed to work wonders.  The eyes of the princess were clear and bright, and upon her cheeks burned that dark, glowing carnation, which an energetic will and a strong and bold resolve sometimes call into life.

“Now, Ernestine, come! make me a careful and tasteful toilet.  It seems to me that this is my wedding-day; that I am about to consecrate myself forever to a beloved friend.”

“Oh, princess, let it be thus!” cried Fraulein von Haak. imploringly.  “Constrain your noble heart to follow the wishes of the king, and wed the King of Denmark.”

Amelia looked at her, amazed and angry.  “You know that Trenck has received my warning, and has replied to me.  He will listen to no suggestions; under no pretext, will he be influenced to cross the borders of Prussia, not even if full pardon and royal grace are offered him.  I need not, therefore, be anxious on his account.”