The crown prince, deeply moved, separated from his friends with tears in his eyes; but as the carriage rolled away he felt relieved as of an oppressive burden, and breathed more freely.
At the same time a footman entered, bearing upon a golden salver a letter for the prince. Unobserved and free to act, he read it, and as he sat musingly thinking over its contents, so tender and affectionate, he re-read it, and rising, made a bold resolve, his face beaming with happiness, to order his carriage, which he did, and in a few moments more drove at full speed away from the palace.
Bischofswerder and Woellner, in the mean time, arrived at Sans-Souci. The footman awaiting them conducted them at once through the picture-gallery, into the little corridor leading to the king’s cabinet, and there left them to announce them to his majesty. Both gentlemen heard their names called in a loud voice, and the response of the king: “Let them wait in the little corridor until I permit them to enter.”
The footman returned and with subdued voice made known the royal command, and departed, carefully closing the door.
There was no seat in the narrow, little corridor, and the air was close and oppressive.
They could hear voices in mingled conversation; sometimes it seemed as if the king were communicating commands; again, as if he dictated in a suppressed voice. The Rosicrucians knew very well it was the hour of the cabinet council, and they waited patiently and steadfastly, but as their watches revealed the fact that three hours had passed, and every noise was hushed, they concluded they were forgotten, and resolved to remind the lackey of their presence.
“Indeed, this standing is quite insupportable,” whispered Woellner.
They both slipped to the entrance and tried the bronze knob, but although it turned, the door opened not, and was evidently fastened upon the outside. They looked alarmed at each other, asking what it could mean. “Can it be intentional? Are we imprisoned here? We must be resigned, although it is a severe experience.” At last, patience exhausted, they resolved to bear it no longer, and tapped gently at the door of the king. The loud bark of a dog was their only response, and again all was still.
“Evidently there is no one there,” sighed Bischofswerder. “It is the hour of dining of the king.”
“I wish it were ours also,” whined Woellner. “I confess I yearn for bodily nourishment, and my legs sink under me.”