be careful and discreet when the life of a man, a relative, is
concerned? You have, then, no pity for him?"
"I pity him deeply, your royal highness, but can do nothing more."
"Perhaps not you! Perhaps another! Perhaps I?"
"I do not know if your royal highness interests herself sufficiently in
the prisoner to work for him."
"You know not whether I interest myself sufficiently in Trenck to serve
him," cried Amelia, with a harsh laugh. "You well know it; the whole
world knows it; no one dares speak of it aloud, for fear of the
king's anger, but it is whispered throughout the whole land why Trenck
languishes in prison. You, you alone, should be ignorant of it! Know,
then, that Trenck is imprisoned because I love him! Yes, general, I
love him! Why do you not laugh, sir? Is it not laughable to hear an old,
wrinkled, broken-down creature speak of love--to see a wan, trembling
form, tottering to her grave on a prop of love? Look at this horribly
disfigured countenance. Listen to the rough, discordant voice that dares
to speak of love, and then laugh, general, for I tell you I love Trenck.
I love him with all the strength and passion of a young girl. Grief and
age have laid a fearful mask upon my countenance, but my heart is still
young, there burns within it an undying, a sacred flame. My thoughts,
my desires are passionate and youthful, and my every thought, my every
desire is for Trenck. I could tell you of all the agony, all the despair
I have endured for his sake, but it would be useless. There is no
question of my sufferings, but of his who through me has lost his youth
and his freedom--his all! Nine years he has lain in prison; for nine
years my one aim has been to release him. My existence, my soul, my
heart, are bound up in his prison walls. I only live to release him.
Though I have ceased to look for human assistance, my heart still prays
earnestly to God for some way of escape. If you know any such, general,
show it to me, and were it strewed with thorns and burning irons, I
would wander upon it in my bare feet."
She raised her hands and fixed an imploring glance upon the general, who
had listened to her in silence. When she had ceased speaking, he raised
his head and looked at her. Amelia could have cried aloud for joy, for
two bright, precious tears gleamed in his eye.
"You weep," cried she; "you have some pity."
The general took her hand, and kneeling reverentially before her
he said: "Yes, I weep, b
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