nt could be seen; it looked like a crimson
star in the east. This was the camp-fire of the Austrians. This mighty
army was encamped behind Leuthen. The king gazed in that direction with
eager expectation, and listened with painful attention to every distant
sound.

The silence of death reigned there; no sound or voice was heard. The
king, being convinced of this, sank back once more upon the straw, and
listened to Charles Henry Buschman.

It was indeed a beautiful fairy tale; so wild and so fantastic that
Fritz listened with eyes extended and almost breathless to every word.
At last, as the handsome prince was drawing his last breath, the lovely
fairy sprang from his sword and brought the dead to life with her warm
kisses, Fritz was in an ecstasy of excitement, and interrupted Charles
by an outcry of rapture.

"This is a true story, sir king!" cried he, passionately; "every word is
true, and he who don't believe it is a puppy!"

"Well, well," said the king, "I believe every word, friend."

Charles Henry went on with his fairy tales; but, notwithstanding the
wonders he related, sleep at last overcame his friend! Fritz's eyes
closed, but he murmured in his sleep: "It is all true--all true!"

Charles Henry himself, wearied by the exertions of the last few days,
felt his eyelids to be as heavy as lead, his words came slowly, then
ceased altogether.

The king looked at his slumbering soldiers, then far away toward the
watch-fires of the Austrian camp.

Silence still reigned. The moon showed distant objects in the clearest
light, and nothing suspicious or alarming could be seen. "It was false
intelligence which was brought to me," said the king. "It is not true
that the Austrians are on the march and intend to surprise me. They
sleep!--we will not see them till tomorrow. I will withdraw to my
quarters."

King Frederick stepped slowly through the ranks of the sleepers, and
gave a sign to the officer and the four soldiers who had accompanied
him, but remained at a distance from the fire, to move lightly and
awaken no one.

CHAPTER XIV. THE BATTLE OF LEUTHEN.

Early the next morning the king left his tent. The generals were
anxiously awaiting him. His countenance glowed with energy and
determination, and his brilliant eyes flashed with a sparkling light.
Inspired by the appearance of their hero, the clouded brows of the
assembled generals became clearer. They felt that his lofty brow was
illumined by geniu