well! return to Berlin, and resign yourself bravely to your
fate. Accustom yourself to the thought that in fourteen days Fraulein
von Leuthen will become the wife of your wealthy rival. The wedding
ceremony awaits only the papers of nobility, for which my order has
already been forwarded to Berlin. I moreover propose to you not to
return to the college at once, but travel for two weeks. I will be
responsible for your absence, and provide you with the necessary means.
Now tell me whether you accept my proposal?"

"Thanks to your majesty, I cannot," answered Moritz, with calm dignity.
"There is but one balm which my king could grant me. Money is not a
plaster to soothe and heal a wounded heart. Sire, I beg you to dismiss
me, for I will return at once to Berlin."

"I hope that you have not the foolish idea to return on foot," said the
king. "My courier will leave in an hour, and there are two places in the
coupe, accept one of them."

"Sire," said Moritz, gloomily, "I--" suddenly the words died on his
lips, and his eyes beamed with an unnatural fire, which paled under the
observing glance of the king. "I thank you," said Moritz, gasping, "I
will accept it."

The king nodded. "Au revoir, in Berlin! When I return after the campaign
I will send for you. You will then have learned to forget your so-called
misfortune, and smile at your pilgrimage!"

"I cannot think so, sire."

"I am convinced of it. Farewell."

Moritz answered the royal salutation with a mute bow, and withdrew with
drooping head and sorrowful heart. The king continued to regard him with
an expression of deep sadness. "Ah!" he sighed, "how enviable are those
who can still believe in love's illusion, and who have not awakened from
their dream of bliss by sad experience or age! How long since I have
banished these dreams--how long I--"

The king ceased, his head sank back upon his chair, his large, fiery
eyes, peering into the distance, as if he would re-people it with
the memories of youth, with the delusions from which he had so long
awakened. Those lovely, charming forms flitted before him one by one
which had then captivated him: the beautiful Frau von Wrechem, his
first love, and to whom he had vowed eternal constancy; another sweet,
innocent face that suffered shame and degradation for him--"oh! Doris,
Doris, dream of my youth, fly past!"--and now the face with the large
eyes and energetic features, which turned so tenderly to him, that
of his sist