He wrote, therefore, to the king, and asked for a private audience. To
his great joy his request was granted; the king invited him to come the
next day to Sans-Souci. "At last! at last!" said the duke, drawing a
long breath; and with proud, French assurance, he added, "To-morrow,
then, we will renew this contract which binds the hands of Prussia, and
gives France liberty of action."

CHAPTER VI. THE PRIVATE AUDIENCE.

The king received the French ambassador without ceremony. There were no
guards, no pages, no swarms of curious listening courtiers, only a few
of his trusty friends, who welcomed the duke and conversed with him,
while Pollnitz entered the adjoining room and informed the king of his
arrival.

"His majesty entreats the duke to enter." said Pollnitz, opening the
door of the library. The king advanced. He was dressed simply; even the
golden star, which was seldom absent from his coat, was now missing.

"Come, duke," said the king, pleasantly, "come into my tusculum." He
then entered the library, quickly followed by the duke.

"Well, sir," said the king, "we are now in that room in which I lately
told you I was but a republican. You have crossed the threshold of the
republic of letters!"

"But I see a king before me," said the duke, bowing reverentially;
"a king who has vanquished his republic, and surpassed all the great
spirits that have gone before him."

The king's glance rested upon the shelves filled with books, on whose
back glittered in golden letters the most distinguished names of all
ages.

"Homer, Tacitus, Livy, Petrarch!--ye great spirits of my republic! hear
how this traitor slanders you."

"How I honor you, sire, for truly it is a great honor to be subdued and
vanquished by such a king as Frederick the Second."

The king looked at him fixedly. "You wish to bewilder me with flattery,
duke," said he, "well knowing that it is a sweet opiate, acceptable to
princes, generally causing their ruin. But in this chamber, duke, I am
safe from this danger, and here in my republic we will both enjoy the
Spartan soup of truth. Believe me, sir, it is at times a wholesome
dish, though to the pampered stomach it is bitter and distasteful. I can
digest it, and as you have come to visit me, you will have to partake of
it."

"And I crave it, sire--crave it as a man who has fasted for two weeks."

"For two weeks?" said the king, laughing. "Ah, it is true you have been
here just that time."

"