"I have dared to preserve one of the roses which you threw into the garden. It was a mad theft, I know it, but I was under the power of enchantment; I could not resist, and would at that moment have paid for the little blossom with my heart's blood. Oh, if your royal highness could have seen, when I entered my room and closed the door, with what rapture I regarded my treasure, how I knelt before it and worshipped it, scarcely daring to touch it with my lips! it recalled to me a lovely fairy tale of my childhood."
"How could a simple rose recall a fairy tale?" said Amelia.
"It is a legend of a poor shepherd-boy, who, lonely and neglected, had fallen asleep under a tree near the highway. Before sleeping, he had prayed to God to have pity upon him; to fill this great and painful void in his heart, or to send His Minister, Death, to his release. While sleeping he had a beautiful dream. He thought he saw the heavens open, and an angel of enchanting grace and beauty floated toward him. Her eyes glowed like two of the brightest stars. 'You shall be no longer lonely,' she whispered; 'my image shall abide ever in your heart, and strengthen and stimulate you to all things good and beautiful.' While saying this, she laid a wondrous rose upon his eyes, and, floating off, soon disappeared in the clouds. The poor shepherd-boy awoke, and was enraptured with what he supposed had been a wild dream. But lo! there was the rose, and with unspeakable joy he pressed it to his heart. He thanked God for this sweet flower, which proved to him that the angel was no dream, but a reality. The rose, the visible emblem of his good angel, was the joy and comfort of his life, and he wore it ever in his heart.—I thought of this fairy tale, princess, as I looked upon my rose, but I felt immediately that I dared not call it mine without the consent of your highness. Decide, therefore; dare I keep this rose?"
Amelia did not reply. She had listened with a strange embarrassment to this impassioned tale. The world—all, was forgotten; she was no longer a princess, she was but a simple young girl, who listened for the first time to words of burning passion, and whose heart trembled with sweet alarm.
"Princess, dare I guard this rose?" repeated Frederick, with a trembling voice.
She looked at him; their eyes met; the young maiden trembled, but the man stood erect. He felt strong, proud, and a conqueror; his glance was like the eagle's, when about to seize a lamb and bear it to his eyrie.
"He goes too far; truly, he goes too far," whispered Pollnitz, who had seen all, and from their glances and movements had almost read their thoughts and words. "I must bring this tete-a-tete to an end, and I shall do so in a profitable manner."
"Dare I keep this rose?" said Frederick von Trenck, a third time.
Amelia turned her head aside and whispered, "Keep it."
Trenck would have answered, but in that moment a hand was laid upon his arm, and Pollnitz stood near him.