The king had listened to him with increasing interest, his brow growing clearer and clearer as the bold speaker continued. When he finished, the king ceased his walk, and stood motionless before him, looking fully into his excited countenance.
“It is, then, your positive conviction that a secret police brings with it those evils you have depicted?”
“Yes, your majesty, it is my positive conviction.”
“He may be right,” said the king, thoughtfully. “Nothing demoralizes men so much as spies and denunciations, and a good government should punish and not reward the miserable spies who betray their fellow-creatures for gold with the wicked intention of bringing them into misfortune. A good government should not follow the Jesuits’ rule—‘That the end consecrates the means.’”
“Will your majesty, then, graciously allow me to dispense with a secret police?”
“Well, yes. We will remain as we are, and De Sartines may keep his secret police. It would not suit us, and Berlin shall not be still further demoralized by spies and betrayers. Therefore, no more of the secret police. When crime shows itself by day we will punish it. We will leave it to Providence to bring it to light. Continue to report to me, therefore, who has died and who has been born; who have arrived and who have departed; who has stolen and who has done a good business. I am well pleased with you—you have spoken freely and bravely, and said openly what you thought. That pleases me; I am pleased when my agents have the courage to speak the truth, and dare occasionally to oppose me. I hope you will retain this virtue.”
He bowed pleasantly to the prefect, and offered him his hand. He then dismissed him, and ordered the ministers to enter with their reports and proposals. After these came the council, and only after the king had worked with them uninterruptedly for three hours, did he think of taking some repose from all this work, which had occupied him from six o’clock in the morning until nearly twelve. He was on the point of entering his library as loud voices in the anteroom arrested his attention.
“But I tell you that the king gives no audiences to-day,” he heard one of the servants say.
“The king has said that every man who wishes to speak to him shall be admitted!” exclaimed another voice. “I must speak to the king, and he must hear me.”
“If you must speak to him, you must arrange it by writing. The king grants an audience to all who demand it, but he fixes the hour himself.”