lead her into the palace. Nor need the two Princesses walk
alone behind; they, too, have their knight--young Count Schwarzenberg, who
had received the Electress. He offered his arm to the Princess Charlotte
Louise, which she accepted with a lovely smile and a becoming blush. Ah!
what a handsome couple that was, and how remarkably their dress
corresponded, for the Princess was also dressed in silver brocade, and
from her shoulders fell a mantle of purple velvet edged with ermine. The
little Princess Sophie Hedwig stepped behind her. But who was this young
man, who suddenly stepped forward, made his way through the throng, and
offered her his arm? Nobody had seen him or observed him, and he had come
on foot, accompanied by a single page. Who was this handsome young man, in
light-blue velvet suit, who with the young Princess on his arm mounted the
steps with her, laughing merrily.

"It is he! It is the Electoral Prince! It is Frederick William! Cheers for
our Electoral Prince! Hurrah for Frederick William! Welcome, welcome home!
Long live our Electoral Prince!"

Within the hall, at the window, stood the Elector, and these shouts
emanating from thousands of throats darkened his countenance. The people
had kept silence when their Sovereign showed himself to them, and now they
exulted on seeing his son!

Without, at the head of the steps, stood the Electoral Prince, and the
shouting of so many thousand voices summoned a glad smile to his face. How
handsome he was, and what a happiness it was to look at him! How like a
lion's mane fell his thick, fair brown hair on both sides of his narrow
oval face, how like brilliant stars sparkled his large, dark-blue eyes,
and what bold thoughts were written upon his broad, clear brow! And how
stately and impressive was his figure, too--how slender, and yet how firm
and athletic! Yes, those broad shoulders were well fitted to bear the
burden of government, and behind that breast beat surely a strong, great
heart!

"Long live the Electoral Prince! Three cheers! Long live Frederick
William!"

He bowed once more, nodding and bestowing kind greetings upon those on
both sides, then entered the palace, followed by his page in black velvet
suit.

Who is that page? Nobody observes him, nobody has looked at him. Who
troubles himself about the servant when he looks at the master?--who asks
why the page's face is so pale, why his glance so feverish and restless?
Very few know the court painte