over the book and commenced reading. His face,
which, at first, had been melancholy, soon assumed a serene and almost
good-humored expression, and, forgetful of the present, he became
entirely absorbed in reading the Roman author.

All was silent in his room. The busts of Napoleon and Frederick looked
down on the illuminated but deserted street, as if they were guarding
the great historian from any evil thoughts or cowardly despondency that
perchance might disturb his thoughts. Suddenly a horseman galloped up,
and a carriage approached the house. Two gentlemen alighted and entered.
Johannes von Mueller saw and heard nothing. He read and copied such
passages from old Juvenal as pleased him best.

Some one rapped violently at the door, and a deep voice called out in
French, "May I enter?"

"General Clarke!" exclaimed Johannes von Mueller, almost in dismay,
starting up and rushing toward the door; but, before he reached it, the
French governor of Berlin, General Clarke, appeared, followed by a young
orderly, whose dusty uniform told that he had just left the highway and
the saddle.

"M. Johannes von Mueller," exclaimed Clarke, cordially nodding, and
offering his hand to the _savant_. "See what I bring you!"

"Well," asked Mueller, in surprise, "what does your excellency bring?"

"I bring you a courier whom the minister of state, M. Maret, by order of
the emperor has sent you, and who has been hunting for you all over
Germany. At Frankfort he was informed you were already at Tuebingen, and
on arriving there he learned that you had not yet left Berlin, although
you had been expected for six months."

"I could not go," said Mueller; "I had not yet received my dismissal; it
arrived only to-day."

"It is well it came to-day," exclaimed Clarke; "it has arrived just in
time. My friend," he added, turning to the courier, "this is M. von
Mueller; deliver the letter into his hands."

The courier produced a large letter to which an official seal was
attached. "When can you let me have the reply?" he asked. "I have been
instructed to return to Paris without delay."

"The reply?" said Mueller. "But I do not yet know the question?"

"My learned friend," exclaimed Clarke, laughing, "this game of questions
and answers with Napoleon resembles a thunderstorm; almost as soon as
the flash is seen, the thunder is heard. There must be no hesitation--no
delay. It is the emperor that asks. Permit the courier, in the mean
time, to ret