"Then I have confidence in it," said the king; "Nature is the best physician, the best apothecary, and what she brews is full of divine healing power. How is this remedy called?"
"It is the Peruvian bark, or quinine, the bark above all barks which, by a divine Providence, grows in Peru, the land of fevers."
But the king had not the strength to listen to him. He now lay burning with fever; a dark purple covered his cheek, and his eyes, which, but a few moments before, were dull and lustreless, now sparkled with fire. The king, overpowered by the disease, closed his eyes, and occasionally unconnected, senseless words escaped his dry, burning lips.
Fredersdorf now entered, and through the open door the anxious, inquiring faces of Pollnitz, Bielfeld, Jordan, and Kaiserling could be seen.
On tip-toe Ellart approached the private chamberlain.
"How is the king?" said he, hastily. "Is he in a condition to hear some important news?"
"Not now. Wait an hour; he will then be free from fever."
"We will wait," said Fredersdorf to the four courtiers who had entered the room, and were now standing around the royal bed.
"Is it bad news? If so, I advise you to wait until tomorrow."
"Well, I do not believe the king will think it bad," said Kaiserling, laughing.