"Add to it," he said, "the exact hour, that we may know hereafter when I completed this decisive and important document."
Meding looked at his watch; it was twelve minutes past midnight. He added the exact date below the king's signature.
"I must now beg your majesty's permission to go," he said, "for time presses." He turned to the queen. "Allow me, your majesty, to offer my truest sympathy, and my most sincere hopes, that you may pass safely through the dark days before us. May God bless your majesty, and may He guide events to a happy issue."
The queen bent her head and covered her face with her handkerchief.
"Auf Wiedersehn!" cried the king, and with a low bow Meding withdrew.
In the ante-room he met a young man dressed in the uniform of the Garde du corps.
He was tall and slight, with merry, pleasing features and large clear eyes, it was Prince George of Solms Braunfels, the king's nephew. He held out his hand to Meding and cried:
"Well, is everything settled, and is war decided upon?"
"I am taking back the answer to the Prussian note!" said Meding gravely, looking at the folded paper in his hand.
The prince looked serious too for a moment.