Amelia did not reply.  She had listened with a strange embarrassment to this impassioned tale.  The world—­all, was forgotten; she was no longer a princess, she was but a simple young girl, who listened for the first time to words of burning passion, and whose heart trembled with sweet alarm.

“Princess, dare I guard this rose?” repeated Frederick, with a trembling voice.

She looked at him; their eyes met; the young maiden trembled, but the man stood erect.  He felt strong, proud, and a conqueror; his glance was like the eagle’s, when about to seize a lamb and bear it to his eyrie.

“He goes too far; truly, he goes too far,” whispered Pollnitz, who had seen all, and from their glances and movements had almost read their thoughts and words.  “I must bring this tete-a-tete to an end, and I shall do so in a profitable manner.”

“Dare I keep this rose?” said Frederick von Trenck, a third time.

Amelia turned her head aside and whispered, “Keep it.”

Trenck would have answered, but in that moment a hand was laid upon his arm, and Pollnitz stood near him.

“Prudence,” whispered he, anxiously.  “Do you not see that you are observed?  You will make of your insane and treasonable passion a fairy tale for the whole court.”

Amelia uttered a slight cry, and looked anxiously at Pollnitz.  She had heard his whispered words, and the sly baron intended that she should.

“Will your royal highness dismiss this madman,” whispered he, “and allow me to awake his sleeping reason?”

“Go, Herr von Trenck,” said she lightly.

Pollnitz took the arm of the young officer and led him off, saying to himself, with a chuckle:  “That was a good stroke, and I feel that I shall succeed; I have betrayed his passion to her, and forced myself into their confidence.  I shall soon be employed as Love’s messenger, and that is ever with princesses a profitable service.  Ah, King Frederick, King Frederick, you have made it impossible for me to borrow money!  Well, I shall not find that necessary; my hands shall be filled from the royal treasures.  When the casket of the princess is empty, the king must of course replenish it.”  And the baron laughed too loudly for a master of ceremonies.

CHAPTER VIII.

Signora Barbarina.

The princess regarded their retreating figures with dreamy eyes.  Then, yielding to an unconquerable desire to be alone, to give herself up to undisturbed thought, she was about to withdraw; but the Princess Ulrica, who thought it necessary that the Swedish ambassador should have another opportunity of observing the proud and sullen temper of her sister, called her back.

“Remain a moment longer, Amelia,” said the princess.  “You shall decide between Count Tessin and myself.  Will you accept my sister as umpire, count?”

“Without doubt,” said the count.  “I should be greatly honored if the princess will be so gracious.  Perhaps I may be more fortunate on this occasion.”