“I am fearfully hungry,” groaned Bischofswerder; “besides, the air is suffocating. I am resolved to go to extremes, and make a noise.”
He rushed like a caged boar from one door to the other, shrieking for the lackey to open the door; but as before, a loud bark was the only response.
“The Lord has forsaken us,” whimpered Woellner. “The sublime Fathers have turned their faces away from us. We will pray for mercy and beg for a release!” and he sank upon his knees.
“What will that avail us here, where neither prayers nor devotion are heeded? Only energy and determination will aid us at Sans-Souci. Come, let us thump and bang until they set us free!” cried Bischofswerder, peevishly.
Their hands were lame, and their voices hoarse with their exertions; and no longer able to stand, they sank down upon the floor hungry and exhausted, almost weeping with rage and despair.
At last, after long hours of misery, they heard a noise in the adjoining room. The king had again entered his cabinet. The door opened, and the lackey motioned to the two gentlemen to enter. They rose with difficulty and staggered into the room, the door being closed behind them.
His majesty was seated in his arm-chair, with his three-cornered hat on, leaning his chin upon his hands, crossed upon his staff. He fixed his great blue eyes, with a searching glance, upon the two Rosicrucians; then turned to his minister, Herzberg, who was seated at the table covered with documents.
“These are, then, the two great props of the Rosicrucians?” asked Frederick—“the two charlatans whom they have told me make hell hot for the crown prince, continually lighting it up with their prayers and litanies.”
“Your majesty,” answered Herzberg, smiling, “these gentlemen are Colonel Bischofswerder and the councillor of the exchequer, Woellner, whom your majesty has commanded to appear before you.”
“You are the two gentlemen who work miracles, and have the effrontery to summon the spirit of our ancestor, the great elector, and the Emperor Marcus Aurelius?”