CHAPTER VIII.
THE FAREWELL AUDIENCE OF MARQUIS VON BOTTER,
THE AUSTRIAN AMBASSADOR.
This was to be a fete day in the royal palace of Berlin. The king intended giving a splendid dinner, after which the court would take coffee in the newly furnished rooms of the dowager queen, and a mask ball was prepared for the evening, to which the court, the nobility, and higher officials were invited.
The court mourning for the emperor was at an end, and every one was determined to enjoy the pleasures of the carnival. Never had the court led so gay, so luxurious a life. Even the good old citizens of Berlin seemed to appreciate this new administration, which brought so much money to the poorer classes, such heavy profits to tradesmen. They believed that this extravagant court brought them greater gains than an economical one, and were therefore contented with this new order of things.
The king had refurnished the palace with an unheard of splendor. In the apartment of the queen-mother there was a room in which all the ornaments and decorations were of massive gold. Even the French and English ambassadors were astonished at this "Golden Cabinet," and declared that such splendor and magnificence could not be found in the palaces of Paris or London. The people of Berlin, as we have said, were becoming proud of their court and their king, and they thought it quite natural that this young ruler, who was only twenty-eight years old, should interest himself very little in the affairs of State, and should give his time to pleasure and amusement.
The king had accomplished his desire. No one suspected the deep seriousness that he concealed under this idle play. No one dreamed that this gay, smiling prince, on whose lips there was always a witty jest or bon mot; who proposed a concert every evening, in which he himself took part; who surrounded himself with artists, poets, and gay cavaliers, with whom he passed many nights of wild mirth and gayety—no one dreamed that this harmless, ingenuous young prince, was on the point of overthrowing the existing politics of the European states, and of giving an entirely new form to the whole of Germany.
The king had not raised his mask for a moment; he had matured his plans under the veil of inviolate secrecy. The moment of their accomplishment had now arrived; this evening, during the mask ball which had been prepared with such pomp and splendor, the king with his regiments would leave Berlin and proceed to Silesia. But even the troops did not know their destination. The journals had announced that the army would leave Berlin to go into new winter quarters, and this account was generally believed. Only a few confidants, and the generals who were to accompany the king, were acquainted with this secret. The king, after a final conference, in which he gave the last instructions and orders, said:
"Now, gentlemen, that we have arranged our business, we will think of our pleasure. I will see you this evening at the ball; we will dance once more with the ladies before we begin our war-dance."
As the generals left him, his servant entered to assist at his toilet. Pelissier, the French tailor, had prepared a new and magnificent costume for this evening, made in the latest Parisian style. The king desired to appear once more in great splendor before exchanging the saloon for the camp. Never had he bestowed such care upon his toilet; never had he remained so patiently under the hands of the barber; he even went to the large mirror when his toilet was completed, and carefully examined his appearance and costly dress.
"Well," he said, smiling, "if the Marquis von Botter is not deceived by this dandy that I see before me, it is not my fault. The good Austrian ambassador must be very cunning indeed if he discovers a warrior in this perfumed fop. I think he will be able to tell my cousin, Maria Theresa, nothing more than that the King of Prussia knows how to dress himself, and is the model of fashion."