e; in other words, that you
can earn a support. Now, if the sun of Prussia sets, I shall not hunger,
for I can earn my bread; Madame Blaken assures me of it. But, Henry, did
I not play eminently?"

"That was the most glittering, dazzling piece for a concert which I
ever heard," said Balby, "and Mr. Zoller may well be proud of it, but I
counsel him not to play it before the King of Prussia; he would, in his
jealousy, declare it was not music, nothing but sound, and signifying
nothing."

"Bravo, my friend," said Frederick, taking his friend's hand; "yes, he
would say that. Mr. Zoller played like a true virtuoso, that is to say,
without intellect and without soul; he did not make music, only artistic
tones. But here comes the pasty, and I shall relish it wondrous well. It
is the first meat I have ever earned with my flute. Let us eat, brother
Henry."

CHAPTER XV. THE KING WITHOUT SHOES.

The pie was really worthy of its reputation, and the king enjoyed it
highly. He was gay and talkative, and amused himself in recalling the
varied adventures of the past five days.

"They will soon be tempi passati, these giorni felice," he said,
sighing. "To-day is the last day of our freedom and happiness; to-morrow
we must take up our yoke, and exchange our simple brown coats for
dashing uniforms."

"I know one, at least, who is rejoicing," said Balby, laughing, "the
unhappy Deesen, who has just sworn most solemnly that he would throw
himself in the river if he had to play much longer the part of a servant
without livery--a servant of two unknown musicians; and he told me, with
tears in his eyes, that not a respectable man in the house would speak
to him; that the pretty maids would not even listen to his soft sighs
and tender words."

"Dress makes the man," said the king, laughing; "if Deesen wore his
cabinet-hussar livery these proud beauties who now despise, would smile
insidiously. How strangely the world is constituted! But let us enjoy
our freedom while we may. We still have some collections of paintings to
examine--here are some splendid pictures of Rembrandt and Rubens to
be sold. Then, last of all, I have an important piece of business to
transact with the great banker, Witte, on whom I have a draft. You know
that Madame Blaken is expensive, and the picture-dealers will not trust
our honest faces; we must show them hard cash."

"Does your--Shall I not go to the bankers and draw the money?" said
Balby. "Oh no,