Rechberg pleaded our unexpected meeting, and from the tone in which the plea was allowed, it was not difficult to guess the affection subsisting between these two men. Immediately after he had gone, Comte de Witt appeared on the scene. ‘You can be our guide,’ he exclaimed on seeing me. ‘You know all about the place, for you have been here at least an hour.’ We wandered about, talking of his mother’s place in the Ukraine, and finally landed into a kind of Chinese pagoda, where there was a billiard table occupied by the King of Denmark and a chamberlain. Ypsilanti hailed me as we came in, and the king on hearing my name turned round and recognised me at once, although I had not seen him since his accession to the throne. ‘Have you learned German since your departure from Copenhagen?’ he asked me with a smile. ‘No, sire, but I have not forgotten the brief lesson you were good enough to give me.’ The king then inquired with the greatest interest after my family, questioning me as to their whereabouts, and showing by each of his questions that the cultivation of a good memory is one of the foremost requisites of an amiable ruler. Frederick VI. was a pattern of amiability and frankness combined. He was hail-fellow-well-met with the humblest without ever losing his dignity, and his learning was manifold and solid. He took greater trouble to please people than the most obtrusive courtier. Advancing age had produced no change outwardly. He was then, as he always had been, very slight, with a pale face, a very long nose, and hair almost bordering on white, though in reality fair, which militated against his appearance. It was, in fact, the same figure which some years previously had aroused both my mirth and my fear. But while his features reminded me of a painful circumstance of my life, they also recalled a memorable episode, and an act of generosity and indulgence on his part, both of which will sketch him better than a volume of praise could do. ‘What did you mean by talking to the king about your first German lesson?’ asked the Comte de Witt, when his Majesty had gone. ‘I am not surprised at his recognising you as if he had left you a week ago; as a rule, sovereigns have excellent memories, but what about that German lesson?’ ‘The king has just reminded me of a circumstance the story of which would be somewhat long. Allow me to postpone the telling of it until to-morrow.’ After this we went into the great ball-room, where, mingling with the crowd, there were kings, generals, ordinary individuals of the middle class, and statesmen, rubbing shoulders with working men, flirting with little shop-girls, but all seemingly very happy, notably the illustrious personages playing at Almavivas, and evidently more flattered by the preference of some ingenuous Rosinas than by the studied glances of admiration from the most expert Court beauties.