“Diable! I begin to fear this subject. You say he is handsome, learned, wise, and good, although he belongs to the airy, puffed-up Berliners. Did you let Herr Moritz wander on in his pilgrimage?”
“No, sire, I persuaded him at last to accept a seat in my carriage, by explaining to him that your majesty might soon leave Welsdorf, and he would run the risk of not arriving in season. Upon no condition would he get inside, but climbed up behind, for, said he, with a firm, decided manner, ‘I go to the king as a beggar, not as a distinguished gentleman.’”
“Indeed it is an original,” the king murmured to himself. “Do you know what the man wants?” he asked aloud.
“No, your majesty; he said that his business concerned the happiness of two human beings, and that he could only open his heart to his God and his king.”
“Where is your protege?”
“He stands outside, and it is my humble request that your majesty will grant him an audience, and permit me to call him.”
“It is granted, and—”
Just at that moment the door opened, and the footman announced that the private secretary of his highness Prince von Galitzin had arrived, and most respectfully begged an audience.
“It is he—it is the baron,” said the king. “Tell your protege he must wait, and come again. Bid the Prince von Galitzin enter.”
As the Minister von Herzberg withdrew, the Baron von Thugut appeared, the extraordinary and secret ambassador of the Empress Maria Theresa.