derick the Great were standing close by, and witnessing with tearful
eyes the removal of treasures so sacred on account of the reminiscences
connected with them. The men were just engaged in placing the clock on
the other articles in a basket. The castellan approached hurriedly and
placing his hand on the dial, said in a low voice, "Farewell! The eyes
of Frederick the Great have often gazed at you. His eyes were also
stars, but not fallen stars, and they did not scorch and burn, but
rendered the people happy. Farewell, faithful clock, that stopped with
grief in the last hour of my king! When _his_ last hour comes, announce
it loudly and joyously, and commence going again, for the worst time
will be over then, and the fallen star will cease burning. Farewell, and
strike that hour as soon as possible!"[15]

[Footnote 15: The clock remained in Napoleon's possession and
accompanied him to St. Helena. It stood on the mantel-piece in his small
parlor, and is mentioned in his will. He bequeathed it to his son, the
Duke de Reichstadt, in the following words: "The clock which always
awakened me in the morning; it belonged to Frederick II., and I
appropriated it in Potsdam." The bell he also bequeathed to his son.
Many conflicting statements have been made concerning the sword Napoleon
took. It was certainly not the sword which Frederick had worn to the
last. The latter had a leathern scabbard which, in several defective
places, had been repaired with sealing-wax because Frederick found this
to be less expensive than to have it repaired by a harness-maker. The
king had taken this sword along, when, in September, 1806, he repaired
with the queen to the headquarters of the army; it accompanied him
during his flight, and was safely brought back by him. It was afterward
at the "_Kunstkammer_" In Berlin. The sword which Napoleon sent to Paris
had been presented to Frederick by Peter III. of Russia, who, it is well
known, was an ardent admirer of the great king. Bluecher, in 1814,
brought it back from Paris.]

Looking even more gloomy than on leaving the city, the emperor rode with
his suite again through the deserted, silent streets of Potsdam. The
brilliant cavalcade moved as slowly and solemnly as a funeral procession
toward the church, the lower vault of which contained the coffin with
the remains of Frederick. The sexton and his assistants, bearing the
large bunch of keys and a blazing torch, conducted the emperor through
the dar