"That is a good dessert," exclaimed the prince. "It seems to me the entertainment was not so bad, and—"
At this moment the door opened. High-Chamberlain von Schiaden entered and approached the king. "Pardon me, sire, for venturing to disturb you," he said. "A peasant and a peasant-woman have just arrived. They ask urgently and imploringly to see your majesty; and, on being told that you were at dinner, the woman insisted only the more to be at once admitted to her majesty, for she had brought her something necessary to a good dinner. I confess, the bearing of these persons is so simple and kind-hearted that I ventured to disturb you, even at the risk of being rebuked for it."
"Where do they come from?" asked the king, musingly.
"From the lowlands of the Vistula, near Culm, sire, and it seems to me they belong to the sect of the Mennonites, for they never take off their hats, and address everybody with 'thee.'—These patriotic persons have performed their journey on foot, and say that their eyes have known no slumber, and their feet no rest, since they left their village in order to see the king and queen."
"Oh, my husband," exclaimed the queen, "pray do not make them wait any longer. They come hither to manifest their love for us, and love must never be kept waiting in the anteroom."
"That is not my intention," said the king, smiling. "We will admit them at once. Come, Lousia, let us go to your sitting-room, and M. von Schladen will be so kind as to conduct them thither." He offered his arm to Louisa, she wrapped herself more closely in the Turkish shawl that covered her shoulders, and, taking leave of the two princes with a tender smile, repaired with the king to her own room.
A few minutes afterward the door opened, and M. von Schladen ushered in Abraham Nickel and his wife. The queen sat on a sofa; and the king, supporting his hand on the back of it, stood by her side. Both of them saluted the peasants, who approached slowly, and who, in their simple, neat costume, with their pleasant, healthy faces, which betrayed no embarrassment whatever, made a very agreeable impression. The woman carried on her arm a basket carefully covered with green leaves. The man held in his right hand a small gray bag, which seemed to be heavy. Both saluted the royal couple very reverentially—the woman making a deep courtesy, and the man bowing, without, however, taking off his broad-brimmed hat.
"I suppose thee to be the king, our good sovereign," said the peasant, fixing his fine lustrous eyes on the king's countenance.
"I am the king," said Frederick William, kindly.
"And I see by thy beautiful face," exclaimed the woman, pointing with her hand at Louisa, "thee is the queen, the dear mother of our country—Louisa, whom all love—for whom we are always praying, and whom we are teaching our children to love and pray for."