bright pile on the table. "Well, indeed," said the
king, "my people of the Vistula have good things in their saving-boxes."

"There are three thousand louis-d'or, dear king," said Abraham Nickel.
"Unfortunately, this is all, although we ardently desired to make you a
better present."

"Three thousand louis-d'or are too much," replied the king, "and I
cannot accept the sum as a mere gift. Accept my thanks, and rest assured
that I shall ever gratefully remember your kindness. I will, however,
accept it as a present now, but at a later day, when times are more
prosperous, it must be considered as a loan, which I shall repay with
interest. Accept a receipt, my friend, and tell the elders of your
community to preserve it carefully, that I may redeem it."[38]

[Footnote 38: The king did not forget his promise. In 1816, when the
fatherland had been delivered, he requested the authorities of
Mariemverder to give him information about Abraham Nickel. It was
ascertained that the poor man, owing to the calamities of war, had lost
his whole property, his buildings having been burned down by the enemy.
The king had them rebuilt in a much better style than before, gave him
ample means to start again, and redeemed the due-bill he had given to
the Mennonites.--Vide Hippel's work on Frederick William III., vol. iii,
p. 391.]

"The king's will be done," said Nickel. "If times remain as they are
now, thy receipt, dear king, shall be preserved in our community as a
sacred token of thy love. But when affairs are better, then thee may do
as thee pleases, and we will gladly permit our king to fill again the
saving-boxes of his people."

"There will be better times for Prussia," said the king, solemnly, "for
I hope in God and in my countrymen. I hope that we shall have strength
to outlive these evil days, and to be worthy of the prosperity to come.
Prussia is not lost; she cannot be, for her people and her king are
united in lore and fealty, and that is the source of heroic deeds. God
save Prussia!"

"God save Prussia!" exclaimed the queen, raising her tearful eyes and
clasped hands.

"God save Prussia!" whispered the peasant and his wife, bowing their
heads in silent prayer.

BOOK V.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

FRENCH ERFURT.

Erfurt had undergone a great transformation in the course of a single
week. The quiet German fortress, and the gloomy streets and deserted
public places, had become a gay capital. There were constantl