“And if I still say it?  If, by the power of my authority, as your brother and your king, I command you to obey?”

“I may perhaps die, but your command will have no other result,” said she, rising slowly, and meeting the enraged glance of the king with a proud and calm aspect.  “You have not listened to my prayers; well, then, I pray no more.  But I swear to you, and God in heaven hears my oath, I will never marry!  Now, my king, try how far your power reaches; what you may do and dare; how far you may prevail with a woman who struggles against the tyranny of her destiny.  You can lead an army into desperate battle; you can conquer provinces, and make thrones totter to their base, but you cannot force a woman to do what she is resolved against!  You cannot break my will!  I repeat my oath—­I swear I will never marry!”

A cry of rage burst from the lips of the king; with a hasty movement he advanced and seized the arm of the princess; then, however, as if ashamed of his impetuosity, he released her and stepped backward.

“Madame,” said he, “you will wed the King of Denmark.  This is my unchangeable purpose, my inexorable command!  The time of mourning for his dead wife is passed; and he has, through a special ambassador, renewed his suit for your hand.  I will receive the ambassador to-morrow morning in solemn audience.  I will say to him that I am ready to bestow the hand of my sister upon the King of Denmark.  To-morrow you will be the bride and in four weeks you will be the wife of the King of Denmark!”

“And if I repeat to you, that I will never be his wife?”

“Madame, when the king commands, no one in his realm dare say ’I will not!’ Farewell—­to-morrow morning, then!” He bowed, left the room, and closed the door behind him.

Amelia sighed heavily, then slowly and quietly, even as she had come, she walked through the corridors, and as she passed by her maids she greeted them with a soft smile.  Ernestine wished to follow her to her boudoir, but she nodded to her to remain outside; she entered and closed the door.  She was alone; a wild shriek burst from her lips; with a despairing movement she raised her arms to heaven, then sank powerless, motionless to the floor.

How long she lay there; what martyrdom, what tortures her heart endured in those hours of solitude, who can know?  It was twilight when Princess Amelia opened the door and bade her friend, Fraulein von Haak, enter.

“Oh, princess, dearly-beloved princess,” she said, weeping bitterly, pressing Amelia’s hand to her lips, “God be thanked that I see you again!”

“Poor child!” said Amelia, gently, “poor child!  You thought I would destroy myself! is it not so, Ernestine?  No, no, I must live!  A dark and sad foreboding tells me that a day will come when Trenck will need me; when my life, my strength, my assistance will be necessary to him.  I will be strong!  I will live, and await that day!”