barometer of his mood, and I can generally judge what kind of royal
weather we will have, whether bright or stormy. Come with me to the
window and listen awhile."

"Agreed," said Pollnitz, and he sprang with youthful elasticity from
the divan and joined Fredersdorf at the window. They listened almost
breathlessly to the sweet tones which seemed to whisper to them from
the upper windows; then mingling and melting with the perfume of the
orange-blossoms and the glorious and life-giving morning air, they
forced their sweet and subtle essence into the room with the cunning
and hardened old courtiers.

Fredersdorf and Pollnitz listened as a sly bat listens to the merry
whistling of an innocent bird, and watches the propitious moment to
spring upon her prey. It was an adagio which the king played upon
his flute, and he was indeed a master in the art. Slightly
trembling, as if in eternal melancholy, sobbing and pleading, soon
bursting out in rapturous and joyful strains of harmony, again
sighing and weeping, these melting tones fell like costly pearls
upon the summer air. The birds in the odorous bushes, the wind which
rustled in the trees, the light waves of the river, which with soft
murmurs prattled upon the shore, all Nature seemed for the moment to
hold her breath and listen to this enchanting melody. Even
Fredersdorf felt the power and influence of this music as he had
done in earlier days. The old love for his king filled his heart,
and his eyes were misty with tears.

As the music ceased, Fredersdorf exclaimed involuntarily: "He is,
after all, the noblest and greatest of men. It is useless to be
angry with him. I am forced against my will to worship him."