Chapter V of the French edition begins here. The translator combined Chapters IV and V with the chapter heading for Chapter V omitted.
"To reduce—thanks to the means which my incomparable mistress has provided for me—the subalterns of the garrison; to effect an understanding with a prisoner as fond of liberty as I am; to give a violent blow to one keeper, a kick to another, and a sword cut to a third; to leap over the rampart, throwing my friend, who did not run as fast as I did, before me (he sprained his ankle as he fell); to pick him up and run thus for fifteen minutes; to cross the Weiss, the water coming up to my waist, through a fog so thick that no one could see beyond his nose; to start from the other bank and travel all night—such a terrible night! to get lost; to go in the snow all around a mountain, without having an idea where I was; to hear the clock of the castle of Glatz strike four—that is to say, to lose time and trouble and see the city walls at dawn; to resume courage to enter a peasant's hut and, with a pistol at his head, get possession of two horses and ride rapidly away;—to regain liberty by a thousand ruses, a thousand terrors and sufferings—and then to find oneself without money or clothing, and almost without bread, in an intensely cold and a foreign country: but to see oneself free, after having been doomed to a terrible and fearful captivity; to think of one's adorable mistress; to say that this news will fill her with joy; to make a thousand bold and daring plans to see her—is to be happier than Frederick of Prussia—to be the happiest of men—the elect of Providence!"
Such was the tenor of the letter of Frederick von Trenck to the Princess Amelia; and the ease with which Madame von Kleist read it proved to Porporina, who was much surprised and moved, that this correspondence in cypher was very familiar to them. There was a postscript to this effect:—
"The person who will give you this letter is as trustworthy as the others were not. You may confide in her without reserve, and give her all your letters for me. The Count de Saint Germain can contrive a means to enable her to send them, though it is altogether unnecessary that the said count, in whom I have not the fullest confidence, should ever hear of you. He will think me in love with Porporina, though such is not the case, for I have not entertained for her anything but an affectionate and pure friendship. Let no cloud, then, darken the beautiful brow of the divinity I adore. For her alone do I breathe, and I would rather die than deceive her."
While the Baroness von Kleist deciphered aloud this postscript, weighing each word, the Princess Amelia examined the features of Porporina carefully, for the purpose of discovering an expression of grief, humiliation, or mortification. The angelic serenity of this creature perfectly reassured her, and she began to overwhelm her with caresses, saying—
"And I suspected you, my poor child. You do not know how jealous I have been of you, and how I have hated and cursed you. I hoped to find you an ugly and bad actress, for the very reason that I was afraid you would be too beautiful and good. This was the reason that my brother, fearing that I would be acquainted with you, though he pretended to wish to bring you to my concerts, took care to let me hear a report that at Vienna you had been Trenck's mistress. He was well aware that in that manner he would best contrive to alienate me from you. I believed all this, while you devoted yourself to the greatest dangers to bring me this happy news. You do not love the king? Ah! you are frightened: he is the most perverse and cruel of men."
"Ah! madame!—madame!" said the Baroness von Kleist, terrified at the abandoned and mad volubility with which the princess spoke before Porporina, "to what dangers you would now expose yourself, were not the signora an angel of courage and devotion!"
"That is true. I am mad! I think I have lost my head! Shut the doors, Von Kleist, and see if any one in the antechamber has heard me. As for her," said the princess, pointing to Porporina, "look and see if it be possible to suspect such a face as hers? No, no; I am not so imprudent as I seem to be, dear Porporina. Do not think I speak frankly because I am crazed, and will repent when I am calm. I have an infallible instinct, you see. My eyes are infallible, and have never deceived me. This is a family peculiarity; and though my brother the king is vain of it, he possesses it in no higher degree than I do. No; you will not deceive me. I know you will not deceive a woman who is devoured by an unfortunate passion, and has suffered what people can form no idea of."
"Oh, madame, never!" said Porporina, and she knelt before her, as if to call God to witness her oath. "Neither you nor Trenck, who saved my life, nor any one else."
"He saved your life? Ah! I am sure he has done as much for many others, he is so brave, good, and handsome. You did not look very closely at him, otherwise you would have fallen in love. Is not this the case? You will tell me how you met him, and how he saved your life. Not now, however. I cannot listen, but must speak to you, for my heart is overflowing. Long since it has been drying up in my bosom. I wish to speak—I must speak—let me alone, Von Kleist—my joy must find an utterance or my heart will burst. Shut the doors, however, and watch. Take care of me—pity me, my poor friends, for I am very happy!" The princess wept.