“Yes your majesty, I am not only permitted, but am commanded to do so! I am to impart to you the reasons why I solicit the papers of the deceased king, and why I desire to have them printed. The object is, that the eyes of your majesty’s subjects may be opened, and they be brought to the knowledge that he, whom freethinkers and unbelievers called a shining light, was a mocker at all religion, and an atheist who scoffed at all that was holy, and did homage to himself, the idol of renown and heathenish poetry, only. The Invisible has commanded me to unveil the scoffing mind of the unbelieving king, and make manifest to the world that such a one may never hope to enter heaven and participate in bliss. Listen, my dear king and master,” continued Wöllner, in an elevated voice, as the roll of drums announced the approach of a body of troops; “listen to those drums proclaiming the dawn of a new day! Hail the day which gives to millions of misguided men a leader and a guide, destined to lead them back to the right path; and to rear aloft the holy cross which his predecessor trod under foot! Hail to your people, Frederick William, for you have come to rebuild the Church of God! Hail to thee, thou favorite of the Invisible! hail, Frederick William!”
And with a cry of enthusiasm, Bischofswerder repeated the words, “Hail to thee, thou favorite of the Invisible! hail, Frederick William!”
The king had listened to Wöllner with downcast eyes, and the joyful acclamations of his two friends seemed only to have given him disquiet and anxiety.
“I am an unworthy sinner,” murmured the king, in a penitent voice, “and if you do not take pity on me and intercede for me with the Invisible, I am a lost man. I implore you both to sustain me with a helping hand, that I may not fall to the ground.”
“The Invisible has commanded us to stay at your side and devote our lives to your welfare,” said Wöllner, solemnly.
“And even if he had not,” cried Bischofswerder, feelingly, “my own heart would have prompted me to do so, for I am my king’s alone, and am ready to shed my blood for him. Tell us, therefore, what we are to do, and what is required to restore peace to your soul.”
“Say, to my heart, my faithful friend,” cried the king, “for it is my heart that needs peace. I love, love with glowing passion. And yet I have sworn in the holy lodge of the Invisible to dedicate my life to virtue. Oh, tell me, tell me, my friends, how can I keep my vow without giving my heart the death-blow! Do not let me sink in despair, but take pity on me. I feel sick and miserable; the torment of love and the conflict with duty rob me of all strength and courage. Oh, help me, help me! You, my friend Bischofswerder, let me drink once more of the elixir of life, which the great magician, Cagliostro, intrusted you with; give me once more life, health, and happiness!”
“Your majesty knows,” replied Bischofswerder, “that I gave you the last drop of the precious elixir, given me by the great magician, to infuse new life and health into my veins, when the hour of death should draw near. I joyfully delivered myself over to death in order that my king might have new life; and I now learn, with the greatest sorrow, that it was not sufficient to accomplish its object. But what I would never do for myself, I will now do for my king. I will entreat the Invisible to impart to me the secret of the preparation of this elixir of life; I will address my thoughts to this magician with all the strength of my soul, and conjure him to appear and instruct me how to concoct the elixir of life for my king and master.”
“Ah,” sighed the king, sadly, “if it is necessary that the magician should appear here, personally, in order to impart to you this wonderful secret, my wish will probably never be gratified, for Cagliostro is at present, as my ambassador yesterday informed me, in London; and the believers are pouring into that city, from all parts of Europe, to see the sublime martyr, who languished in a French prison, on account of the unhappy necklace affair, until his innocence was proved, when he was restored to liberty, on condition that he should leave France at once and never recross its boundaries. Cagliostro then went to London, where he is now receiving the homage of his admirers; and there he expects to remain, as he informed our ambassador. How can your prayers and entreaties have sufficient power to call the magician here from so great a distance? His sublime spirit is united with the body, and is subject to finite laws.”