head, and pressed a fervent kiss upon
the laurel. He then handed it to Winterfeldt. "Do likewise, my friend,"
said he; "your lips are worthy to touch this holy branch, to inhale
the odor of these leaves which grew upon Virgil's grave. Kiss this
branch--and now let us swear to become worthy of this kiss; swear that
in this war, which will soon begin, laurels shall either rest upon our
brows or upon our graves!"

Winterfeldt having sworn, repeated these words after him, "Amen!" said
the king; "God and Virgil have heard us."

CHAPTER XI. THE BALL AT COUNT BRUHL'S.

Count Bruhl, first minister to the King of Saxony, gave to-day a
magnificent fete in his palace, in honor of his wife, whose birthday it
was. The feast was to be honored by the presence of the King of Poland,
the Prince Elector of Saxony, Augustus III., and Maria Josephine, his
wife. This was a favor which the proud queen granted to her favorite
for the first time. For she who had instituted there the stern Spanish
etiquette to which she had been accustomed at the court of her father,
Joseph I., had never taken a meal at the table of one of her subjects;
so holy did she consider her royal person, that the ambassadors of
foreign powers were not permitted to sit at the same table with her.
Therefore, at every feast at the court of Dresden, there was a small
table set apart for the royal family, and only the prime minister, Count
Bruhl, was deserving of the honor to eat with the king and queen. This
was a custom which pleased no one so well as the count himself, for it
insured him from the danger that some one might approach the royal pair,
and inform them of some occurrence of which the count wished them to
remain in ignorance.

There were many slanderers in this wretched kingdom--many who were
envious of the count's high position--many who dared to believe that the
minister employed the king's favor for his own good, and not for that of
his country. They said that he alone lived luxuriously in this miserable
land, while the people hungered; that he spent every year over a million
of thalers. They declared that he had not less than five millions now
lying in the banks of Rotterdam, Venice, and Marseilles; others
said that he had funds to the amount of seven millions. One of these
calumniators might possibly approach the king's table and whisper into
the royal ear his wicked slanders; one of these evil-doers might even
have the audacity to make his unri