nd for those who have nothing, and are nothing."

"Then the last is for us," said the king, laughing. "Is it not so,
brother Henry?--it is best for us to go in the drag-boat."

"That would be best, brother Frederick."

"Have the kindness to call our servant to take the bag, and you, Mr.
Niclas, please give us a guide to show us to the canal."

The king took his box and approached the door.

"And my coffee, and the wine," asked Mrs. Niclas, just entering with the
drinks.

"We have no time to make use of them, madame," said the king, as he
passed her, to leave the room.

But Madame Niclas held him back.

"No time to make use of them," she cried; "but I had to take time to
make the coffee, and bring the wine from the cellar."

"Mais, mon Dieu, madame," said the impatient king.

"Mais, mon Dieu, monsieur, vous croyez que je travaillerai pour le roi
de Prusse, c'est-a-dire sans paiement."

The king broke out into a hearty laugh, and Balby had to join him, but
much against his will.

"Brother Henry," said the king, laughing, "that is a curious way of
speaking; 'travailler pour le roi de Prusse,' means here to work for
nothing. I beg you to convince this good woman that she has not worked
for the King of Prussia, and pay her well. Madame, I have the honor to
bid you farewell, and be assured it will always cheer me to think of
you, and to recall your charming speech."

The king laughingly took his friend's arm, and nodded kindly to Madame
Niclas as he went down the steps.

"I tell you what," said Madame Niclas, as she stood at the door with
her husband, watching the departing strangers, who, in company with the
guide and their servant, were walking down the street that led to the
canal--"I tell you I do not trust those strangers, the little one in
particular; he had a very suspicious look."

"But his passport was all right."

"But, nevertheless, all is not right with them. These strangers are
disguised princes or robbers, I am fully convinced."

CHAPTER XIII. THE DRAG-BOAT.

What a crowd, what noise, what laughing and chatting! How bright and
happy these people are who have nothing and are nothing! How gayly they
laugh and talk together--with what stoical equanimity they regard the
slow motion of the boat! They accept it as an unalterable necessity.
How kindly they assist each other; with what natural politeness the men
leave the best seats for the women!

The boat is very much crowded. There are