ve music, and if
agreeable to you, messieurs, we will practise a quartet which I composed
during my solitude these last few days."

"Let us try it," said Quantz, carelessly opening the piano.

Frederick went to his room to seek his note-book, and place his letters
upon the table, but, before he returned, he called the marquis to him.

"D'Argens," said he, "may I not thank you for this agreeable surprise?"

"Yes, sire, I proposed it, and took the responsibility upon myself. If
your majesty is displeased, I am the only culprit!"

"And why have you made yourself the postilion, and brought me all these
letters, marquis?"

"Sire, because--"

"I will tell you, marquis," said Frederick, with a loving glance, and
laying his hand upon D'Argens' shoulder; "you did this, because you knew
my poor heart had received a deep wound, and you wished to heal it. You
wished to surround me with many friends, and make me forget the one
who fails, and who betrayed me. I thank you, marquis! Yours is a great
heart, and I believe your balsam has magic in it. I thank you for this
hour, it has done me good; and though the world may succeed in poisoning
my heart, I will never--never distrust you; I will never forget this
hour!"

"And now, messieurs," said Frederick, as he returned to the musicians,
"we will take our parts, and you, Quantz, take your place at the piano."

The concert began. Frederick stood behind the piano, at which Quantz
sat; Graun and Fasch had withdrawn to the window, in order to enjoy the
music, as Frederick was first to play a solo on his flute, with a simple
piano accompaniment.

The king played artistically, and with a rare enthusiasm. The marquis
was in ecstasy, and Graun uttered a few low bravos. Suddenly, all the
musicians shuddered, and Quantz was heard to mutter angrily. The king
had committed a great fault in his composition--a fault against the
severest rules of art. He played on, however, quietly, and said, when he
had completed the page--"Da capo!" and recommenced. Again came the false
notes, frightful to the ears of musicians. And now Graun and Fasch could
not keep time. The king held his breath.

"Go on, Quantz," said he, zealously, placing the flute again to his
lips.

Quantz cast a sullen look at him.

"As your majesty pleases," said he, and he played so fiercely that Graun
and Fasch shivered, and Quantz himself whistled to drown the discord.
The unlearned marquis looked in blessed ignorance upon