t dismissed me, and sent me my
passport!"

"Your passport! dismissed you!" repeated the queen. "Have I heard
aright? Do you speak of the King of Prussia? Has he then made himself
King of Saxony?"

Before anyone had time to answer the queen's painful questions, the door
was opened, and the king's ministers entered; beside them was to be seen
the pale, terrified countenance of Count Leuke, the king's chamberlain.

Slowly and silently these gentlemen passed through the room and
approached the queen.

"We have come," said Count Hoymb, bowing lowly, "to take leave of your
majesty."

The queen fell slightly back, and gazed in terror at the four ministers
standing before her with bowed heads.

"Has the king, my husband, sent for you? Are you come to take leave of
me before starting to Konigstein?"

"No, your majesty; we come because we have been dismissed from our
offices by the King of Prussia."

The queen did not answer, but gazed wildly at the sad countenances about
her; and now she fixed a searching glance upon the royal chamberlain.

"Well, and you?" said she. "Have you a message for me from my husband?
Are you from Konigstein?"

"Yes, your majesty, I come from Konigstein. But I am not a bearer of
pleasant news. I am sent to Dresden by the King of Poland to request
of the King of Prussia passports for himself and Count Bruhl. The king
wishes to visit Warsaw, and is therefore desirous of obtaining these
passports."

"Ah!" said the queen, sighing, "to think that my husband requires
permission to travel in his own kingdom, and that he must receive it
from our enemy! Well, have you obeyed the king's command, Count Leuke?
Have you been to the King of Prussia and received the passports?"

"I was with the King of Prussia," said the count, in a faltering voice.

"Well, what more?"

"He refused me! He does not give his consent to this visit."

"Listen, listen!" said the queen, wildly; "hear the fresh insult thrown
at our crown! Can God hear this and not send His lightning to destroy
this heretical tyrant? Ah, I will raise my voice; it shall be a cry of
woe and lamentation, and shall resound throughout all Europe; it shall
reach every throne, and every one shall hear my voice calling out: 'Woe!
woe! woe to us all; our thrones are tottering, they will surely fall if
we do not ruin this evil-doer who threatens us all!'"

With a fearful groan, the queen fell fainting into the arms of Countess
Ogliva. But the sorro