h the
king.

She longed to fall on her knees before him, to clasp him in her ardent
embrace. With powerful effort, she forced herself to remember her
surroundings. The music, the lights, the gay figures: all was a
confused jumble. She opened her lips but could not utter a word. She
arose quickly and with trembling step left the room.

The king left the ball soon after.

It was late at night. Walpurga, her heart filled with sadness, stood
looking out of the window of the room over Irma's apartments.

Light clouds were passing over the sky, now covering the moon, and then
again revealing it in all its splendor.

The light fell full on the figure of the Venus de Milo, and she seemed
to turn her face.

Walpurga bounded away from the window, and was so frightened that she
did not venture again to return to the open casement.

The same ray of moonlight that shone upon the Venus de Milo rested
tremblingly on the lips of the statue which the king had kissed.... The
gods were astir that moonlight night....

CHAPTER IX.

When the small circle composed of the select of the court were at tea,
the intendant announced it as his intention to celebrate the birthdays
of those great minds who had contributed to the elevation of the drama,
and said that he meant to begin with the approaching anniversary of
Lessing's birth.

"What play will you give us?" inquired the queen.

"I should feel highly honored if Your Majesty would decide which it
shall be."

"I?" asked the queen, looking toward the king, who was sitting opposite
to her. Although apparently engaged with an illustrated newspaper, he
must have felt that the queen's eye was upon him, for he looked up and
said:

"Yes, please yourself."

"Then I should like 'Emilia Galotti.'"

All looked up, for this work, as well as Schiller's "Love and
Intrigue," had, during the last reign, been placed on the list of
forbidden plays.

A pause ensued. It was the king's turn to speak, and what would he say?

He remained silent. A moment later, he showed Schnabelsdorf, who was
sitting near him, a portrait of a foreign scholar who had recently
died, and asked whether it was a good likeness.

Schnabelsdorf replied affirmatively.

The king's voice seemed so harsh and strange that the queen felt
greatly alarmed.

At that moment, Baum was about to hand a cup to the queen. She turned
quickly, with a frightened look, just as if a cat had sprun