to your uncle, countess, and tell him so! And now give me the numbers
of the journal, and the pamphlet too; I will take them to the king. My
fate, as well as that of Prussia, is in his hands. He alone can absolve
me from the charge preferred against me. Give me the papers!"

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE JUSTIFICATION.

The king sat at his desk, assiduously engaged in writing, when the door
opened, and the queen entered. Her whole bearing breathed an unwonted,
solemn earnestness; her head was proudly erect, her cheeks pale, and a
melancholy smile was playing on her lips. In her left hand she held a
roll of papers. The king rose hastily to meet his wife with a kindly
greeting. Louisa gave him her right hand, and laid her head for a moment
on his shoulder. Looking into her husband's face with a sweet, touching
expression, "Do you love me, Frederick?" she asked in so low and gentle
a voice that he scarcely heard it. Frederick William smiled, and,
instead of replying to her, imprinted a kiss on her fair brow.

"Do you believe in me?" said Louisa. "Oh, my lord and king, I implore
you by every thing that is sacred--by the memory of our children--tell
me, sincerely and frankly, as if standing before God, do you believe in
me? Do you believe in my love--in my virtue?"

"Louisa," exclaimed the king, indignantly and almost aghast, "this
question is too grave to be a jest, and too ludicrous to be grave."

"And yet I am in earnest," exclaimed the queen, in an outburst of
excitement, which she was no longer able to restrain. "Look at these
papers, Frederick. They contain a terrible charge against your wife--the
mother of your children--the queen of our people. They accuse the wife
of a disgraceful _liaison_, and the queen of the most infamous
selfishness. Frederick, they charge me with loving the Emperor
Alexander, and with having induced you, for the purpose of gratifying
this passion, to enter into the alliance with Russia. Now, you know the
disgrace weighing me down, of which all Germany is aware by this time,
and in which the malicious and evil-disposed will surely believe, even
though the virtuous and compassionate may refuse to credit it. Read
these papers, my husband; read them in my presence, and if your
features express but a shadow of doubt--if you fix your eyes but for a
moment on me with an uncertain expression--let me die, and hide my head
in the grave!"

She offered the papers to the king, but Frederick William onl