ts will be paid. Yes, I will pay
them, but I shall never forget that you have betrayed my brother's
confidence."

"I only acted according to your majesty's commands," said Pollnitz,
confounded. "Certainly, but if you had resisted my commands, I would
have esteemed and prized you the more. Now, I shall pay your debts, but
I shall despise you. No one has reasons for thanking you."

"Sire, I desire no other thanks. Had I been paid with money for my
services, instead of fine speeches, I would have been as rich as
Croesus."

"And a beggar in virtue," said the king, smiling. "But go, I was wrong
to reproach you. I shall now go to Berlin, and when my brother arrives
he shall find me there. Go now, my grand chamberlain, and take the
prince my permission for a three days' absence."

CHAPTER IX. THE FIRST DISAPPOINTMENT.

A few hours later the equipage of Prince Henry arrived in the court-yard
of Monbijou, and the prince demanded of his mother, the widowed queen,
permission to pay her his respects.

Sophia Dorothea was suffering greatly. The gout, that slow but fatal
disease, which does not kill at once, but limb by limb, had already
paralyzed the feet of the poor queen, and confined her to her chair.
To-day her sufferings were greater than usual, and she was not able to
leave her bed. Therefore, she could not receive the prince as a queen,
but only as a mother, without ceremony or etiquette. That the meeting
might be entirely without constraint, the maids of honor left the
queen's room, and as the prince entered, he saw the ladies disappearing
by another door; the last one had just made her farewell bow, and was
kissing respectfully the queen's hand.

This was Louise von Kleist, for whose sake the prince had come, and for
whom his heart throbbed painfully. He could have cried aloud for joy
as he saw her in her bewildering loveliness, her luxuriant beauty. He
longed to seize her hands and cover them with kisses--to tell her how
much he had suffered, how much he was still suffering for her sake.

But Louise appeared not to have seen him, not to have noticed his
entrance. She had only eyes and ears for the queen, who was just
dismissing her with winning words, telling her to remain in the castle
and return when she desired to see her.

"I shall remain and await your majesty's commands," said Louise,
withdrawing hastily.

The queen now greeted the prince as if she had just observed him, and
invited him to be sea