renck must
remain a prisoner. But she had said to herself, "When peace is declared,
the prisoners of war will be released, and Maria Theresa will demand
that her captain, Frederick von Trenck, be set at liberty."

Peace had been declared four months, and Trenck still lay in his
subterranean cell at Magdeburg. All Europe was freed from the fetters of
war. Trenck alone was unpardoned and forgotten. This thought made Amelia
sad unto death, banished sleep from her couch, and made her a restless,
despairing wanderer during the day. Amelia had no longer an object--the
last ray of hope was extinguished. Peace had been concluded and Trenck
was forgotten! God had denied her the happiness of obtaining Trenck's
freedom; He would not even grant her the consolation of seeing him
released through others. For nine years Trenck had languished in
prison--for nine years Amelia's only thought, only desire, was to enable
him to escape. Her life was consecrated to this one object. She thought
not of the gold she had sacrificed--she had offered up not only her
entire private fortune, but had made debts which her income was utterly
inadequate to meet. Money had no value except as it was consecrated
to her one great aim. She felt now that her heart had been crushed and
broken in her useless efforts-that her hopes were trampled in the dust,
and her existence worthless. Peace had visited all hearts but hers
with new assurance of hope. It brought to her nothing but despair
and desolation. While all others seemed to recommence life with fresh
courage and confidence, Amelia withdrew to her apartments, brooding in
dark discontent--hating all those who laughed and were glad-spurning
from her with angry jealousy the contented and happy. The world was
to her a vast tomb, and she despised all those who had the mad and
blasphemous courage to dance on its brink.

Amelia avenged herself on those who avoided her, by pursuing them with
spiteful jests and bitter sarcasm, hoping in this way to be relieved
wholly from their presence. She wished to be alone and always alone. Her
soul within her was desolate, and the outward world should take the same
dark hue. She lived like a prisoner secluded in her own apartments; and
when some great court festival compelled her to appear in public, she
revenged herself by wounding all who approached her. The sufferings of
others were a balsam to her heart, and she convinced herself that the
pain she inflicted assuaged her o