teau. The Frau
Feldmarschall honours him with a farewell invitation: you have a private
interview with the princess at midnight in the library, where you are
accustomed to read, as a student of books should, my boy at a touch of
the bell, or mere opening of the door, I see that Peterborough comes to
you. It will not be a ceremony, but a binding of you both by your word of
honour before a ghostly gentleman.' He informed me that his foresight had
enlisted and detained Peterborough for this particular moment and
identical piece of duty, which seemed possible, and in a singular manner
incited me to make use of Peterborough. For the princess still denied me
the look of love's intelligence, she avoided me, she still kept to the
riddle, and my delicacy went so far that I was restrained from writing. I
agreed with my father that we could not remain in Germany; but how could
I quit the field and fly to England on such terms? I composed the
flattest letter ever written, requesting the princess to meet me about
midnight in the library, that I might have the satisfaction of taking my
leave of her; and this done, my spirits rose, and it struck me my father
was practically wise, and I looked on Peterborough as an almost
supernatural being. If Ottilia refused to come, at least I should know my
fate. Was I not bound in manly honour to be to some degree adventurous?

So I reasoned in exclamations, being, to tell truth, tired of seeming to
be what I was not quite, of striving to become what I must have divined
that I never could quite attain to. So my worthier, or ideal, self fell
away from me. I was no longer devoted to be worthy of a woman's love, but
consenting to the plot to entrap a princess. I was somewhat influenced,
too, by the consideration, which I regarded as a glimpse of practical
wisdom, that Prince Ernest was guilty of cynical astuteness in retaining
me as his guest under manifold disadvantages. Personal pride stood up in
arms, and my father's exuberant spirits fanned it. He dwelt loudly on his
services to the prince, and his own importance and my heirship to mighty
riches. He made me almost believe that Prince Ernest hesitated about
rejecting me; nor did it appear altogether foolish to think so, or why
was I at the palace? I had no head for reflections.

My father diverted me by levelling the whole battery of his comic mind
upon Peterborough, who had a heap of manuscript, directed against
heretical German theologians, to p