"No protestations, I pray you," interrupted the prince, "I believe I
know you thoroughly, but I am not angry with you nor do I reproach
you: you are a courtier, and one of the best and rarest type; you
have intellect and knowledge, much experience and savoir vivre; I
could desire no better company than yourself; but for one moment
cast aside your character as a courtier, and tell me the truth: what
does the world say of this marriage in regard to me?"

"Your highness desires me to tell you the truth?"

"Yes, I do."

"Now the important moment has come," thought Pollnitz. "Now, if I am
adroit, I believe I can obtain the payment of my debts."

"Well, then, your highness," said Pollnitz, in answer to the prince,
"I will tell you the truth, even should I incur your displeasure. I
fear, my prince, you are regarded as a rejected lover, and Madame du
Trouffle has succeeded in throwing a holy lustre around her
beautiful brow. It is said that she refused your dishonorable
proposals, and preferred being the virtuous wife of a major, to
becoming the mistress of a prince."

"Go on," said the prince, hastily, as Pollnitz ceased, and looked
searchingly at him. "What do they say of me?"

"That you are in despair, and that you have retired to your chambers
to weep and mourn over your lost love."