He returned the pills to the vial and hid the casket in its former resting-place. Then passing hastily through the room, he opened the door. The two adjutants were sitting upon the wooden bench in front of the hut; both were asleep. The grenadiers were pacing with even tread up and down before the house; deep quiet prevailed. The king stood at the door looking in amazement at the glorious scene before him. He inhaled with delight the soft summer air; never had it seemed to him so balmy, so full of strengthening power, and he acknowledged that never had the stars, the moon, the sky looked as beautiful. With lively joy he felt the night-wind toying with his hair. The king would not tire of all this; it seemed to him as if a friend, dead long since, mourned and bewailed, had suddenly appeared to him beaming with health, and as if he must open his arms and say, “Welcome, thou returned one. Fate separated us; but now, as we have met, we will never leave one another, but cling together through life and death, through good and evil report.”
Life was the friend that appeared to Frederick, and he now felt his great love for it. Raising his eyes in a sort of ecstasy to the sky, he murmured, “I swear not to seek death unless at the last extremity, if, when made a prisoner, I cannot escape. I swear to live, to suffer, so long as I am free.”
He had assumed the harness of life, and was determined to battle bravely with it.
CHAPTER XIII. THE TWO GRENADIERS.
Smiling, and with elastic step, the king advanced to meet the two grenadiers, who stood rooted to the spot as he approached them. “Grenadiers,” said he, “why are you not with your comrades?”
“Our comrades fled,” said one.
“It is dishonorable to fly,” said the other.
The king was startled. These voices were familiar, he had surely heard them before.
“I ought to know you,” said he, “this is not the first time we have spoken together. What is your name, my son?”