But the princess did not remark this; she rejoiced in an opportunity to show the Swedish ambassador how amiable and gracious she could be to others, and thus make him more sensible of her rudeness to himself; he should see and confess that she could be winning and attractive when it suited her purpose.  The count observed her narrowly, even while conversing with Ulrica; he saw her ready smile, her beaming eye, her perhaps rather demonstrative cordiality to the young officer.  “She is changeable and coquettish,” he said to himself, while still carrying on his conversation with the talented, refined, and thoroughly maidenly Princess Ulrica.

The great and, as we have said, somewhat too strongly marked kindliness of Amelia, added fuel to the passion of Trenck; he became more daring.

“I have to implore your highness for a special grace,” said he in a suppressed voice.

“Speak on,” said she, feeling at that moment an inexplicable emotion which made her heart beat high, and banished the blood from her cheeks.

“I have dared to preserve one of the roses which you threw into the garden.  It was a mad theft, I know it, but I was under the power of enchantment; I could not resist, and would at that moment have paid for the little blossom with my heart’s blood.  Oh, if your royal highness could have seen, when I entered my room and closed the door, with what rapture I regarded my treasure, how I knelt before it and worshipped it, scarcely daring to touch it with my lips! it recalled to me a lovely fairy tale of my childhood.”

“How could a simple rose recall a fairy tale?” said Amelia.

“It is a legend of a poor shepherd-boy, who, lonely and neglected, had fallen asleep under a tree near the highway.  Before sleeping, he had prayed to God to have pity upon him; to fill this great and painful void in his heart, or to send His Minister, Death, to his release.  While sleeping he had a beautiful dream.  He thought he saw the heavens open, and an angel of enchanting grace and beauty floated toward him.  Her eyes glowed like two of the brightest stars.  ‘You shall be no longer lonely,’ she whispered; ’my image shall abide ever in your heart, and strengthen and stimulate you to all things good and beautiful.’  While saying this, she laid a wondrous rose upon his eyes, and, floating off, soon disappeared in the clouds.  The poor shepherd-boy awoke, and was enraptured with what he supposed had been a wild dream.  But lo! there was the rose, and with unspeakable joy he pressed it to his heart.  He thanked God for this sweet flower, which proved to him that the angel was no dream, but a reality.  The rose, the visible emblem of his good angel, was the joy and comfort of his life, and he wore it ever in his heart.—­I thought of this fairy tale, princess, as I looked upon my rose, but I felt immediately that I dared not call it mine without the consent of your highness.  Decide, therefore; dare I keep this rose?”