Arm in arm, and silently, they mounted the marble steps of the terrace. Deep, holy silence surrounded them, the cascades prattled softly. The tops of the tall trees which bordered the terrace bowed and whispered lowly with the winds; here and there was heard the melodious note of a bird. No noise of the mad world, no discord interrupted this holy peace of nature. They seemed to have left the world behind them, and with solemn awe to enter upon a new existence. Now they had reached the height; they turned and looked back upon the beautiful panorama which lay at their feet. The luxurious freshness, the artistic forms, the blue and graceful river winding through the wooded heights and green valleys, formed an enchanting spectacle. "Is not this heavenly?" said Frederick, and his face glowed with enjoyment. "Can we not rest here in peace, away from all the sorrows and sufferings of this world?" "This is, indeed, a paradise," cried the marquis. He spread out his arms in ecstasy as if he would clasp the whole lovely picture to his breast; then, turning his eyes to heaven, he exclaimed, "O God! grant that my king may be happy in this consecrated spot!" "HAPPY?" repeated Frederick, with a slight shrug. "Say CONTENT, marquis. I believe that is the highest point any man attains upon this earth. And now let us enter the house." He took the arm of the marquis, and then stepped over the golden sand to the large glass door which led to the round saloon. As Frederick opened the door he fixed his great blue eyes steadily upon D'Argens. "Pray! marquis, pray! we stand upon the threshold of a new existence, which now opens her mysterious portals to us." "Sire, my every thought is a prayer for you at this moment." They entered the oblong saloon. "This is the room which separates me from my friends," said the king. "This side of the house I will dwell; that side is for the use of my friends, above all others, dear marquis, for you. In this saloon we will meet together, and here will be my symposium. Now I will show you my own room, then the others." In the reception-room, which was adorned with taste and splendor, Frederick remained but a few moments; he scarcely allowed his artistic friend a fleeting glance at the superb pictures which hung upon the walls, and for the selection of which he had sent the merchant, Gotzkowsky, several times to Italy; he gave him no time to look upon the statues and vases of the Poniatowsken Gallery, for which four hundred thousand thalers had been paid, but hurried him along. "You must first see my work-room," said Frederick; "afterward we will examine the rest."