r the name of the author."

"All Germany knows it, and do you think I could possibly remain a
stranger to it?"

"But your name, sir," said the stranger, with anxious curiosity. "Will
you not give me your name?"

"I will tell you when we are in your own room," said Herr Wolff,
smiling.

"The air is yet enchanted and intoxicated with the breath of the Great
Frederick; it should not be desecrated with another name.--Farewell, we
will meet in Berlin."

Not far from these gentlemen stood two others, wrapped in long military
cloaks, both of striking and foreign appearance; the one, of slight
delicate figure, of dark complexion, noble and handsome face, must be
an Italian, as his very black hair and eyes betrayed; the other, tall,
broad-shouldered, of Herculean stature, belonged to North Germany, as
the blond hair, light blue eyes, and features indicated. A pleasing
smile played around his thick, curled lips, and only when he glanced at
his companion did it die away, and change to one of respectful devotion.
At this instant the king passed. The Italian pressed the arm of his
companion.

"The arch fiend himself," he murmured softly, "the demon of unbelief,
to whom nothing is sacred, and nothing intimidates. The contemptuously
smiling spirit of negation, which is called enlightenment, and is
but darkness, to whom belief is superstition, and enlightening only
deception. Woe to him!"

"Woe to him!" repeated the other.

The king was followed by his brilliant and select staff in motley
confusion. First, Prince Henry, and then the Prince of Prussia. As the
latter passed the two gentlemen, the Italian pressed the arm of his
companion still harder. "Look at him attentively, my son," said he,
"that is our future and our hope in this country."

The Hercules turned hastily, with a look of astonishment, to the
Italian. "The Prince of Prussia?" asked he, with amazement.

The Italian nodded. "Do you doubt it?" he added, reproachfully. "Would
you doubt your lord and master, because he reveals to you what you
cannot seize with your clouded spirit?"

"No, no, master, I am only surprised that you hope for good from this
lost-in-sin successor to the throne."

"Yes, you are poor, human children," sighed the Italian, compassionately
smiling; "prompt to judge, mistaking light for darkness, and darkness
for light. I have already remarked that to the celebrated and austere
Minister Sully, as he complained to me of the levity and immora