"I, my lord, write to a king to whom I have no introduction? I could not think of it."
"But you wish to speak to him, do you not?"
"Certainly."
"That is enough; your letter need contain nothing but the expression of your desire."
"Will the king answer me?"
"Without doubt, for he answers everybody. He will tell you when it will please him to receive you. Take my advice, and let me know how you get on."
I did as he suggested, and wrote a simple and respectful letter, asking when and where I might present myself to his majesty. The day but one after I received a reply signed Frederick, acknowledging the receipt of my letter, and saying I should find him at four o'clock that day in the gardens at Sans Souci.
As my readers may imagine, I was delighted at having obtained a rendezvous, and arrived at the palace an hour before the appointed time very simply drest in black. I entered the courtyard, and as I did not see any one, not even a sentinel, I went up a short staircase, and opening a door, found myself in a picture-gallery. A guardian came up and offered to show me the collection.
"I did not come here to admire these works of art," I said, "but to speak to the king, who told me he would be in the garden."
"At this moment he is at his concert, playing the flute. 'Tis his dessert after dinner, and he treats himself to it every day. Did he fix any hour?"