In the mean while, Pollnitz hastened to Sans Souci, where he was immediately received by the king.
“Your majesty,” he said, joyfully, “the young lion has fallen into the net that we set for him.”
“He goes then to Berlin, to the queen-mother?” asked the king, quickly.
“He begs your majesty’s permission to take this little trip.”
“He really charged you with this commission?”
“Yes, sire: it appears that his obstinacy is beginning to relent, and that he thinks of submitting.”
The king was silent, and walked thoughtfully to and fro, with clouded brow, then remained standing before Pollnitz, and looked sharply and piercingly at him.
“You rejoice,” he said, coldly, “but you only think of your own advantage. You are indifferent to the sorrow we are preparing for my brother. You only think that your debts will be paid. Yes, I will pay them, but I shall never forget that you have betrayed my brother’s confidence.”
“I only acted according to your majesty’s commands,” said Pollnitz, confounded. “Certainly, but if you had resisted my commands, I would have esteemed and prized you the more. Now, I shall pay your debts, but I shall despise you. No one has reasons for thanking you.”
“Sire, I desire no other thanks. Had I been paid with money for my services, instead of fine speeches, I would have been as rich as Croesus.”