Wilhelmine colored with anger at the free conduct of the royal footman, and hastened to sign the receipt to rid herself of the messenger, and to read the letter.
“What will you give me for trinkgeld, Mamselle Enke?” asked the footman, as she gave him the receipt.
“Your own rudeness and insult,” answered Wilhelmine proudly, as she turned, without saluting him, to the sitting-room.
Kretzschmar laughed aloud. “She will play the great and proud lady,” said he. “She will get over that when in prison. The letter is without doubt an order of arrest, for when the king flashes and thunders as he did this morning, he usually strikes. I hope it will agree with you.” He slowly left the anteroom, and descended the stairs to mount his horse, which he had bound to a tree.
Wilhelmine hastened in the mean time to the prince. “Here is the letter addressed to me,” said she, handing him the sealed envelope. “I beg you to open it; courage fails me, everything trembles and swims before my eyes. Read it aloud—I will receive my sentence from your lips.”
The prince exclaimed, breaking the seal: “It is the handwriting of the secret cabinet secretary, Menken, and the message comes immediately from the king’s cabinet. Now, Wilhelmine, do not tremble; lean your head upon me, and let us read.”
“‘In the name of his majesty, Wilhelmine Enke is commanded, under penalty of severe punishment, not to leave her room or her dwelling, until the king shall permit her, and send some one to take her and all that belongs to her to her place of destination. She shall receive this order with patience and humility, and consider her apartment as a prison, which she shall not leave under severe penalty, nor allow any one to enter it. Whoever may be with her at the time of receiving the order, who do not belong there, shall speedily absent themselves, and if the same ride or drive to Potsdam, they shall immediately take a message to his royal highness the Prince of Prussia, and announce to him that his majesty expects him at Sans-Souci at ten o’clock tomorrow morning. The Minister von Herzberg will be in waiting to confer with the prince. The above is communicated to Wilhelmine Enke for her strict observance, and she will act accordingly.’”
A long silence followed the reading of this letter. Both looked down, thoughtfully recalling the contents.
“A prisoner,” murmured Wilhelmine, “a prisoner in my own house.”
“And for me the peremptory command to leave immediately for Potsdam, in order to be at Sans-Souci early in the morning. What can the king mean?”