Part 14 (1/2)

”And after to-morrow, it will be ever the same,” said he to himself joyfully. ”To-morrow the world will belong to me! I will not envy the king his crown, the scholar his learning, or youth and beauty their bloom. I shall be more powerful, more honored, more beloved than them all. I shall possess an inexhaustible fountain of gold.

Gold is the lord and king of the world. The king and the philosopher, youth, beauty, and grace, bow down before its shrine.

Oh, what a life of gladness and rapture will be mine! I shall be at liberty. I shall wed the woman I adore. The sun is sinking; the moon will soon ride triumphantly in the heavens, and then--”

A light rustling on the tapestry door interrupted him; and he turned anxiously toward this door, which led directly to the chamber of the king, and through which he alone could enter. It was indeed Frederick. He entered the room of his private secretary with a bright, gay smile.

”I have come unexpectedly,” said the king. His clear, piercing glance instantly remarked the cloud which lowered upon the brow of Fredersdorf. ”But what will you have? The King and Fate, as Deus ex machina, appear without warning and confuse the calculations of insignificant mortals.”

”I have made no calculations, sire,” said Fredersdorf, confused; ”and the presence of my king can never disturb my peace.”

”So much the better,” said Frederick, smiling. ”Well, I have made my calculations, and you, Fredersdorf, have an important part to play.

We have a great work on hand, and if you have set your heart upon being at liberty this evening, I regret it; the hope is a vain one.

This evening you are the prisoner of your king.”

The king said this with so grave, so peculiar, and at the same time so kindly an expression, that Fredersdorf was involuntarily touched and softened, and he pressed his lips warmly upon the hand which Frederick held out to him.

”We must work diligently,” said the king. ”The time of idleness is past, and also the time consecrated to the Muses. Soon I will lay my flute in its case, and draw my sword from its scabbard. It appears that my G.o.dmother, Maria Theresa, thinks it unseemly for a King of Prussia to pa.s.s his days elsewhere than in a tented field, or to hear other music than the sound of trumpet or the thunder of cannon calling loudly to battle. Well, if Austria will have war, she shall have it promptly. Never will Prussia yield to her imperious conditions, and never will the house of Hohenzollern subject herself to the house of Hapsburg. My G.o.dmother, the empress, can never forget that the Prince-Elector of Brandenburg once, at the table, held a wash-basin for the emperor. For this reason she always regards us as cavaliere servente to the house of Hapsburg. Now, by the help of England, Saxony, and Russia, she hopes to bring us under the old yoke. But she shall not succeed. She has made an alliance with England, Russia, and Saxony. I have united with France and Bavaria, for the protection of Charles the Seventh. This, you see, Fredersdorf, is war. Our life of fantasy and dreaming is over. I have given you a little dish of politics,” said the king, after a pause. ”I wish to show you that I have need of you, and that we have much to do. We must arrange my private accounts, we have many letters to write; and then we must select and prepare the rich presents to be given to the Princess Ulrica on her marriage.

Fredersdorf, we cannot afford to be idle.”

”I shall be ready at all times to obey the commands of my king. I will work the entire night; but I pray your majesty to grant me a few hours this evening--I have most important business, which cannot be postponed.”

”Ah! without doubt, you wish to finish the epistle of Horace, of which we spoke a few days since. If I remember correctly, this epistle relates to the useless offering of a lamb or black ram.

Well, I give up this translation for the present; we have no time for it; and I cannot possibly give you leave of absence this evening.”

”And yet I dare to repeat my request,” said Fredersdorf, with pa.s.sionate excitement. ”Sire, my business cannot be postponed, and I beseech you to grant me a few hours.”

”If you will not yield to the earnest wish of your friend, you will be forced to submit to the command of your king,” said Frederick, sternly. ”I forbid you to leave your room this evening.”

”Have pity, sire, I entreat you! I wish but for two hours of liberty. I tell you my business is most important; the happiness of my life depends upon it.”

The king shrugged his shoulders contemptuously. ”The happiness of your life! How can this poor, short-sighted, vain race of mortals decide any question relating to 'the happiness of life'? You seek it to-day, perhaps, in riches; to-morrow in the arms of your beloved; and the next day you turn away from and despise both the one and the other. I cannot fulfil your wish; I have important work for you, and will not grant you one moment's absence.”

”Sire, I must--”

”Not another word! you remain here; I command you not to leave this room!”

”I will not obey this command,” said Fredersdorf, completely beside himself with rage and despair. ”Will your majesty dismiss me from your service, withdraw your favor, and banish me forever from your presence? I must and will have some hours of liberty this evening.”

The king's eyes flashed lightning, and his features a.s.sumed so threatening an expression, that Fredersdorf, though completely blinded by pa.s.sion, trembled. Without a word in reply, the king stepped hastily to the door which led into the corridor. Two soldiers stood before the door.

”You will see that no one leaves this room,” said Frederick--”you will fire upon any one who opens the door.” He turned and fixed his eyes steadily upon the pale face of the secretary. ”I said to you that you were the prisoner of your king to-day. You would not understand my jest. I will force you to see that I am in earnest.

The guards stand before this, door; the other door leads to my apartment, and I will close it. You shall not work with me to-day; you are not worthy of it. You are a bold rebel, deserving punishment, and 'having eyes see not.'”

Fredersdorf had not the courage to reply. The king stepped hastily through the room and opened the tapestry door; as he stood upon the threshold, he turned once again. ”Fredersdorf, the time will come when you will thank me for having been a stern king.” He closed the door, placed the key in his pocket, and returned to his room, where Jordan awaited him.

”And now, friend, the police may act promptly and rigorously; Fredersdorf will not be there, and I shall not find it necessary to punish him further. Alas! how difficult it is to turn a fool from his folly! Fredersdorf would learn to make gold through the sacrifice of a black ram; in order to do this, he joins himself to my adversaries, to the hypocrites and pietists; he goes to the so- called prayer-meetings of the G.o.dless, who call themselves, forsooth, the children of G.o.d! Ah! Jordan, how selfish, how pitiful is this small race of man! how little do they merit! I took Fredersdorf from obscurity and poverty. I not only took him into my service, I made him my confidant and my friend--I loved him sincerely. And what is my reward? He is ungrateful, and he hates me with a perfect hatred; he is now sitting in his room and cursing his king, who has done nothing more than protect him from the withering ridicule which his childish and mad pursuit was about to bring upon him. Jordan, Jordan! kings are always repaid with ingrat.i.tude.”

”Yes, sire; and G.o.d, our heavenly Father, meets with the same reward,” said Jordan, with a painful smile. ”G.o.d and the king are the two powers most misunderstood. In their bright radiance they stand too high above the sons of men: they demand of the king that he shall be all-wise, almighty, even as G.o.d is; they require of G.o.d that He shall judge and act as weak, short-sighted men do, not 'knowing the end from the beginning.'”

The king did not reply; with his arms folded, he walked thoughtfully through the room.