The king shook his head, smilingly. "No one is indispensable. A man lost is like a stone thrown into the water; for a moment there is a slight eddy, the waters whirl, then all trace disappears, and the stream flows quietly and smoothly on. But not thus will I disappear. If I am destined to fall in this combat to which I am now hastening, my death shall be glorious, and my grave shall be known; it must, at least, be crowned with laurels, as no one will consecrate it with the tribute of love and tears. A king, you know, is never loved, and no one weeps for his death; the whole world is too busily engaged in welcoming his successor."
"Not so; not so with you, my king! you are deeply, fondly loved. I know a woman who lives but in your presence—a woman who would die of joy if she were loved by you; she would die of despair if death should claim you; you, her youthful hero, her ideal, her god! For this woman's sake who worships you; whose only joy you are; who humbly lays her love at your feet, and only asks to die there; for her sake I implore you to be careful of yourself; do not plunge wantonly into danger, and thus rob Prussia of her king; your queen of the husband whom she adores, and for whom she is ready at any hour to give her heart's blood."
The king clasped gently the folded hands of the veiled lady within his own; he knew her but too well.
"Are you so well acquainted with the queen that you know all the secrets of her heart?"
"Yes, I know the queen," whispered she; "I am the only confidant of her sorrows. I only know how much she loves, how much she suffers."
"I pray you, then, go to the queen and bid her farewell for me. Tell her that the king honors no other woman as he honors her; that he thinks she is exalted enough to be placed among the noble women of the olden times. He is convinced she would say to her warrior husband, as the Roman wives said to their fathers, husbands, and sons, when handing their shields, 'Return with them or upon them!' Tell Elizabeth Christine that the King of Prussia will return from this combat with his hereditary foe as a conqueror, or as a corpse. He cares little for life, but much for honor; he must make his name glorious, perchance by the shedding of his blood. Tell Elizabeth Christine this, and tell her also that on the day of battle her friend and brother will think of her; not to spare himself, but to remember gratefully that, in that hour, a noble and pure woman is praying to God for him. And now adieu: I go to my soldiers—you to the queen."
He bowed respectfully, and hurried to the music-room. The queen followed him with tearful eyes, and then drawing her hood tightly over her face, she hurried through a secret door into her apartments. While the queen was weeping and praying in her room, the king was putting on his uniform, and commanding the officers to assemble in the court-yard.
Prince Augustus William was still tarrying in the dancing-saloon: he did not dance; no one knew he was there. He had shown himself for a few hours in a magnificent fancy suit, but unmasked; he then left the ballroom, saying he still had some few preparations to make for his journey. Soon, however, he returned in a common domino and closely masked; no one but Laura von Pannewitz was aware of his presence; they were now standing together in a window, whose heavy curtains hid them from view. It was a sad pleasure to look once more into each other's eyes, to feel the warm pressure of loving hands, to repeat those pure and holy vows which their trembling lips had so often spoken; every fond word fell like glorious music upon their young hearts. The moment of separation had come; the officers were assembled, and the solemn beating of drums was heard.
"I must leave you, my beloved, my darling," whispered the prince, pressing the weeping girl to his heart. Laura sobbed convulsively.
"Leave me, alas, perhaps never to return!"