had once resolved upon a
course of policy or action, he was the very last man to alter; the whole
world might go to pieces sooner than he change. And yet, in this
instance, having become thoroughly convinced that he had been treating a
deserving man with injustice, he had the moral courage to reverse his
conduct, to unsay what he had before said, and to incur the risk of
being called fickle or changeable by doing what he now believed to be
the right thing. So he at once laid the poor man on his own couch, for
the colonel had fainted after making his confession. Then he gave him
food, and sent the doctor to his wife and provisions for the children;
and then, having summoned an attendant, he bade him take the colonel's
sword, and consider the officer himself as his prisoner. After this he
sat down and wrote a letter, and, having delivered it to the attendant,
dismissed the unhappy man from his presence.

"The person who now had the colonel in charge was an old friend of his,
who had often tried to put in a kind word for him to the king, but
hitherto without any good result. And now, as he conducted him from the
palace, he said, `You are to be taken to the fortress of Spandau, but,
believe me, you have nothing to fear.' Spandau was a fortress near
Berlin, to which at that time all state prisoners were sent.

"On reaching Spandau, the officer gave his prisoner in charge to the
captain of the guard, while he himself carried the king's sealed order
and the prisoner's sword to the governor of the fortress, who, having
read the king's letter, told the colonel that, although he was his
prisoner, yet he was not forbidden to invite him for once to join
himself and his brother officers at the dinner-table.

"In due time the guests assembled, and with them the poor, half-starved
colonel. But imagine the astonishment of all when, after the dinner was
over, the governor of the fortress read out to the whole company the
king's letter, which ran thus:--`Sir Commandant, I hereby nominate and
appoint the present half-pay colonel, who was this day delivered over to
you as a prisoner, to the command of my fortress of Spandau, and I look
to receive from him in his new service proofs of the same fidelity,
bravery, and attention to duty, and strict obedience, which he so often
exhibited in the late war. The late commandant of Spandau now goes, in
reward of his faithful services, as commandant of Magdeburg.'

"Now I call this, dear W