"Then I will not speak to him," exclaimed the Electress; "I will only take one look at him and give him one kiss."
She entered her son's sleeping room and stepped up to his couch. The
Electoral Prince smiled upon her, and his large eyes greeted her with
tender glances. He had already opened his mouth to speak, but the
Electress quickly laid her hand upon his lips.
"Do not speak, my Frederick," she whispered softly. "Sleep and compose yourself; know that your mother tenderly loves you. For my sake, my son, keep quiet to-day; keep your bed and talk with no one. Will you not promise me?"
He nodded smilingly and imprinted a kiss upon the hand which his mother still held over his lips. The Electress hurried away, and Frederick again remained alone with his old valet.
"Now, Dietrich," he whispered softly, "now keep watch that no one enters, and let us quietly await the night."
"Your grace thinks that the White Lady brought you good medicine last night, and that she will come again, do you not?"
"I am convinced of it, my good old man. God has sent her for my cure. God will not have me die already."
"The name of the Lord be blessed and praised!" murmured Dietrich, sinking upon his knees in fervent prayer.
Deep stillness pervaded the Electoral Prince's apartments the whole day long, for nobody dared venture in. The doctor himself, who came toward evening, only peeped in through a crevice of the door, and nodded quite contentedly when Dietrich whisperingly told him that the Prince had again fallen into a gentle slumber.
"I knew it," said the doctor with gravity. "My medicine was meant to cure him by means of sleep, and I am not surprised that my calculations have proved perfectly correct. To-morrow the Prince will be perfectly well—that is to say, if he regularly takes my medicine. It has been prepared for the second time, I hope?"