m to permit them to remain in French captivity until the
payments were made. Napoleon listened to him, and while he was speaking
the countenance of the emperor gradually became milder. He approached
the prince, embraced him affectionately, and exclaimed, "That is very
generous, but it is impossible. Never would I accept such a
sacrifice--never!" For the rest, the mission of the prince was an utter
failure. Napoleon referred him to Minister Champagny, who, by all sorts
of subterfuges, managed to protract and finally to break off the
negotiations. The prince was detained several months in Paris, and
returned, without having accomplished any thing, to Koenigsberg, whither
the royal family had removed in the mean time.]

CHAPTER XXXVII.

THE GENIUS OF PRUSSIA.

The queen was alone in her room. She sat on the sofa, and a dress of
heavy silk, interwoven with flowers, lay spread out on the table before
her. She turned over the dress, as if carefully examining it. "Sure
enough, there it is!" she suddenly exclaimed. "Now, quick to work!" She
hastened to her table, on which was to be seen a beautiful silk
embroidery just finished by the queen. Among the threads she selected
one that was of the same color as the dress, and hastily threaded her
needle. "Now I will finish my work before any one surprises me,"
whispered Louisa. She was so assiduously employed that she did not
notice that the opposite door, softly opening, had admitted the king. He
stood still for a moment and looked at the queen. Advancing, he asked,
frowningly, "What are you doing, Louisa?"

The queen uttered a cry, and a deep blush suffused her cheeks. Pushing
aside the table and the dress, she rose from the sofa and went to salute
her husband. "Welcome, dearest!" she said, lovingly clinging to him;
"you knew that it was cold and lonely here, and you come to gladden me.
Thanks, my Frederick, thanks and welcome! I feel as though you were
given to me anew, and I greet you every morning as with the young heart
of a bride." She laid her beautiful head on his shoulder, and her
delicate hand played with his hair.

But the king did not return her caresses, and his eyes, which usually
looked so lovingly at his wife, were directed to the dress on the table.
"You have not yet replied to me, Louisa," he exclaimed.

"Replied to what?" she asked, raising her head from his shoulder, and
calmly looking at him.

"You know it," said the king--"to my question."

"T