“Tell me about it,” said Peter, in an agitated and humbled manner.
“Do you really want to hear?” asked the Prince in some surprise; he had known the Czar to have messengers of ill-tidings knouted.
“I want to hear,” replied Peter, without looking up.
“Well, the Swedes made a descent on Copenhagen and joined the Anglo-Dutch fleet by Spaelland—they sailed through the Eastern Channel of the Sound, a thing not before thought possible—and then they landed and attacked Copenhagen by land.”
“The King led them—he was the first to land, and waded with the water to his waist and his sword in his hand—under the musket fire of the Danes, you perceive. There was a short engagement in which the Swedes were completely victorious, and Copenhagen lay at their mercy.”
“Where was King Frederick?” asked Peter.
“I do not know—still besieging Tönning, I suppose—at least he sent to negotiate.”
“To negotiate!” cried the Czar, looking round.
“Sire—the Baltic Sea was covered with the Swedish ships, King Karl master of Seeland, Copenhagen beseeching mercy—but our young hero must do the magnanimous—he fought not for conquest, he said, but justice. In brief, there was a congress called at Tarrenthal and there is a peace to be signed this month.”