King. “Fool! I will let you have it for five hundred thalers, and even then make money.”
Soldier. “I would not believe that to all eternity. It is not true.”
King. “Certainly it is. Look here—I will count up the cost. This little stone here is perhaps worth three hundred and some odd thalers. The large one in the middle is a table diamond, which at the utmost did not cost over thirty thalers, and the rest of the ring, outside of the plain setting, is of no value.”
Soldier. “I certainly wouldn’t have believed it.”
Day had dawned in the meantime. The King arose and ordered an aide, who had come up to make report, to give the soldier a Friedrich d’or, saying at the same time, “Are you convinced now that I have no money?”
Frederick often availed himself of the darkness to ride about and see what was going on. Once the King and Zieten, riding early in the morning, came to a little wood. Seeing no signs of an enemy Frederick began whistling softly, as was often his habit when not talking. All at once, as they ascended an eminence, Zieten noticed some of the enemy’s troopers in the distance, wearing white cloaks.
“Be quiet, Your Majesty. Quick, put my white undercoat over your shoulders and ride slowly. They will think we are friends coming to meet them.”
This evidently was the Austrians’ opinion, for they seemed to be directing their course straight toward them; but suddenly the King and Zieten put spurs to their horses, changed their direction, and fortunately escaped. The King laughed and said: “My dear Zieten, that was a neat trick. Now, can I go on with my whistling?”
As was always his habit, the King continued to share all dangers and privations with his soldiers. Like them, he ate out of tin dishes and the hard ground was his bed whatever the weather might be.
“Take along a bundle of straw,” he once said, as he started for a ride through the camp, “so that I won’t have to lie on the bare ground, as I did last night.”