ght think that I am a very assuming person--that
I tyrannize over my brother. There, madame, the buckles are undone, and
there lie my shoes, and now we are ready to enter your state apartment."

Madame Witte opened the door with cold gravity, and allowed them to
pass. "To-morrow I can dust again," she said, gleefully, "for the
strangers' clothes are very dirty."

In the mean time, the two strangers awaited the arrival of Mr. Witte.
The king enjoyed his comic situation immensely. Balby looked anxiously
at the bare feet of the king, and said he should never have submitted to
Madame Witte's caprice. The floor was cold, and the king might be taken
ill.

"Oh, no," said Frederick, "I do not get sick so easily--my system can
stand severer hardships. We should be thankful that we have come off so
cheaply, for a rich banker like Witte in Amsterdam, is equal to the Pope
in Rome; and I do not think taking off our shoes is paying too dearly to
see the pope of Holland. Just think what King Henry IV. had to lay aside
before he could see the Pope of Rome--not only his shoes and stockings
and a few other articles, but his royalty and majesty. Madame Witte is
really for bearing not to require the same costume of us."

The door behind them was opened hastily, and the banker Witte stepped
in. He advanced to meet them with a quiet smile, but suddenly checked
himself, and gazed with terror at the king.

"My God! his majesty the King of Prussia!" he stammered. "Oh! your
majesty! what an undeserved favor you are doing my poor house in
honoring it with your presence!"

"You know me, then?" said the king, smiling. "Well, I beg you may not
betray my incognito, and cash for Frederick Zoller this draft of ten
thousand crowns."

He stepped forward to hand the banker the draft. Mr. Witte uttered a
cry of horror, and, wringing his hands, fell upon his knees. He had just
seen that the king was barefooted.

"Oh! your majesty! Mercy! mercy!" he pleaded. "Pardon my unhappy wife
who could not dream of the crime she was committing. Why did your
majesty consent to her insane demand? Why did you not peremptorily
refuse to take off your shoes?"

"Why? Well, ma foi, because I wished to spare the King of Prussia a
humiliation. I believe Madame Witte would rather have thrown me out of
the house than allowed me to enter this sacred room with my shoes on."

"No, your majesty, no. She would--"

At this moment the door opened, and Madame Witte, drawn by