destroying drops of poison in the golden chalice of creation.

Breathlessly he hurries on, looking neither to right nor left. He
has now reached the terrace, and now he stops for a moment to
recover breath. He sees not the glorious panorama lying at his feet;
he is blind to all but himself. He is alone in the world--alone with
his misery, his pain. Now he hastens on to the back of the palace.
The sentinels walking before the back and the front of the castle
know him, know where he is going, and they barely glance at him as
he knocks long and loudly at that little side window.

It is opened, and a young girl appears, who, when perceiving this
pale, anxious countenance, which is striving in vain to smile at
her, cries out loudly, and folds her hands as if in prayer.

"Hush!" said he, roughly; "hush! let me in."

"Some misfortune has happened!" said she, terrified.

"Yes, Rosa, a great misfortune, but let me in, if you do not wish to
ruin me."

The young girl disappears, and the man hastens to the side door of
the castle. It is opened, and he slips in.

Perfect peace reigns once more in the garden of Sans-Souci. Nature
is now smiling, for she is alone with her innocence. Man is not
there! But now, in the castle, in the dwelling of the castle warder,
and in the room of his lovely daughter Rosa, all is alive. There is
whispering, and weeping, and sighing, and praying; there is Rosa,