The King was silent.
"I warned you," Napoleon looked entirely innocent, "against England. It is she who has caused your troubles. But France," his tones became most grandiloquent, "can afford to be generous. In a few days all will be arranged."
Never was any man treated more cruelly than poor, good, unhappy King Frederick William. Yet there has never been a King who behaved better in time of trouble. In peace he had been irresolute and sluggish. In trouble his figure stands out against a background of woe in outlines of dignity and nobility.
Napoleon made him feel absolutely alone, taking away his friend as he had taken away his kingdom. Though he asked him to dinner, when the last morsel was eaten, the last wine drunk, he bore off the Czar to his private apartment, excusing both to Frederick William. When they were abroad the French soldiers called "Vive Napoleon!" "Vive Alexandre!" but never a cry from the Imperial Guard for the King of Prussia.
"It is better for me to be friendly with Napoleon," said the Czar in excuse. The King was silent.
As for Napoleon, he utterly refused to have the King near him, unless absolutely necessary.
"I can't stand his gloomy face," he told Alexander.
The Czar and Napoleon embraced in public. The French and Russian soldiers became like brothers, leaving the Prussians to humiliation and solitude. The King, who had always suffered from shyness, felt more and more uncomfortable, being made always an unwelcome third. He had no opinion of himself, the Queen was not there to cheer him, and each day he grew more gloomy and sad.
One day the people of Tilsit saw the three monarchs riding together, the Czar and Napoleon entirely ignoring the King, who let his horse drop behind and rode alone.
"Has not our good King been true to the Czar?" they cried, and in their hearts the fire against Napoleon and Alexander burned fiercer. "In January," they said to each other, "we could have made peace if our King had promised to desert Russia. And now the Czar deserts our King."