"There you are in error, my beautiful countess; I know better, because I listened to the whole conversation between the maid of honor and her brother." "How? You were present?" "Not exactly present, but I heard it, nevertheless. The doors of the dilapidated old castle in Schönhausen are full of cracks and crannies, and if you get near enough you can see and hear very readily." "And you were near the door of the maid of honor's chamber?" "So near that a sheet of paper could hardly have been slipped in between us." "And there was no one there to order the bold eavesdropper to leave?" "Yes, there was a human being in the little dressing-room in which I stood, but this human being made no opposition whatever to my listening at the door, for the simple reason that I had paid well for the privilege. The young lady's chambermaid loves money, and is of a speculative disposition. She wishes to open a millinery establishment, and for that money is necessary; and she takes it whenever she can get it. I pay her in my gracious master's name for singing the king's praise in her mistress's ear; and I pay her in my own name for reporting to me the result of this singing, and permitting me to listen at the door when there is anything to be heard. To be sure, it cost me a considerable sum yesterday. This shrewd little kitten made me pay her twice: once for the conversation between the maid of honor and her brother, and the second time for the conversation between the king and the maid of honor." Wilhelmine sprang up, and an exclamation of astonishment escaped her lips. "You have listened to the conversation between the king and the maid of honor, and now tell me of it for the first time. I conjure you, Rietz, my dear Rietz, my best friend, tell me of it. Speak--what did the king say, and what did she reply?" "After dinner, and for nothing?" asked Rietz, as he stretched himself comfortably, poured the last few drops of champagne into his glass and carried it slowly to his lips. "Speak, my dear Rietz. Say what I shall do. What will you have?" "The little love of a house at the entrance of the park of Sans-Souci. It was built on speculation; that is to say, I had it built, hoping that the old king would be dead, and our Frederick William seated on the throne by the time of its completion. My hope is now realized, and I ask you, my adorable wife, will you use your influence to persuade the king to give me this house as a reward for my long and faithful services?" "I will do so; I will storm the king with entreaties to give you this house." "Then it is as good as mine already, and I thank my noble patroness. And now that I am paid in advance, I will impart to you the substance of that important conversation--that is, you will certainly not require me to repeat the king's protestations of love and vows of eternal fidelity."