“Hum! that is bad, very bad,” said Pollnitz.  “I have found, however, that there are two sorts of men, and you have mentioned in your catalogue but one species, who have fallen so completely under the hand of Frederick.  You have said nothing of his cook, of his valet-de-chambre, and yet these are most important persons.  You must know that in the presence of these powers, a king ceases to be a king, and indeed becomes an entirely commonplace mortal, who eats and drinks and clothes himself, and who must either conceal or adorn his bodily necessities and weaknesses like any other man.”

Fredersdorf shook his head sadly.  “It seems to me that Frederick the Second is beyond the pale of temptation; for even with his cook and his valet he is still a king; his cook may prepare him the most costly and luxurious viands, but unhappily they do not lead him into temptation; a bad dish makes him angry, but the richest and choicest food has no effect upon his humor; he is exactly the same before dinner as after, fasting or feasting, and the favor he refuses before the champagne, he never grants afterward.”

“The devil! that is worse still,” murmured Pollnitz.  “And the valet--with him also does the king remain king?”

“Yes, so entirely, that he scarcely allows his valet to touch him.  He shaves, coifs, and dresses himself.”

“My God! who, then, has any influence over him?  To whom can I turn to obtain a favor for me?”

“To his dogs, dear baron; they are now the only influential dependants!”

“Do you mean truly the four-footed dogs?—­or—­”

“The four-footed, dearest baron!  Frederick has more confidence in them than in any two-legged animal.  You know the king always trusted much to the instincts of his dogs; he has now gone so far in this confidence, as to believe that the hounds have an instinctive aversion to all false, wicked, and evil-minded men.  It is therefore very important to every new-comer to be well received by the hounds, as the king’s reception is somewhat dependent upon theirs.”

“Is Biche yet with the king?”

“Yes, still his greatest favorite.”

“I am rejoiced to hear that!  I was always in favor with the Signora Biche; it was her custom to smell my pocket, hoping to find chocolate.  I beseech you, therefore, dearest friend, to give me some chocolate, with which I may touch and soften the heart of the noble signora, and thus induce the king to look upon me favorably.

“I will stick a half pound in each of your pockets, and if Biche still growls at you, it will be a proof that she is far more noble than men; in short, that she cannot be bribed.  Have you finished with your questions?  I think it is now my time to begin.”

“Not so, my friend.  My head is still entirely filled with questions, and they are twining and twisting about like the fishing-worms in a bag, by the help of which men hope to secure fish.  Be pitiful and allow me to fasten a few more of these questions to my fishing-rod, and thus try to secure my future.”