The king cast an angry glance at the saucy, laughing face of the young man, who at once assumed a devoted, earnest mien. “Has your majesty any further commands?” asked he, timidly. “I command you to hold your tongue until you are spoken to!” replied the king, harshly. “You understand spying and hanging about, as you have good ears, a quick eye, and a keen scent. I therefore make use of you, because I need a spy; but, understand that a fellow who allows himself to be used as a spy, is, indeed, a useful subject, but generally a worthless one, and to whom it is becoming to be modest and humble. I am now going to Berlin; you will accompany me. Take off your finery, so that every one may not recognize at once the peacock by his feathers. Go to the taverns and listen to what they say about the war; whether the people are much dissatisfied about it. Keep your great ears wide open, and bring me this evening all the latest news. Go, now, tell my coachman to be ready; in half an hour I shall set off.” The young man slunk away to the door, but stood without opening it, his head down, and his under-lip hanging out. “What is the matter?” asked the king, in a milder tone, “why do you not go, Kretzschmar?” “I cannot go away if your majesty is angry with me,” muttered the servant, insolently. “I do not wish to hear or see any thing more for you when your majesty abuses me, and considers me such a mean, base fellow. Your majesty first commanded me to listen, and spy, and now that I am obeying, I am despised and scolded for it. I will have nothing more to do with it, and I wish your majesty to leave me a simple footman rather than to accord me such a mean position.” “I did not mean so badly,” said the king. “I mean well enough for you; but you must not permit yourself to be arrogant or disrespectful, otherwise you may go to Tophet! You are no common spy, you are listening about a little because you know I am fond of hearing what the people are saying, and what is going on in Berlin and Potsdam. But take care that they know nothing about it, otherwise they will be careful, and you will hear nothing. Now be off, and in order to see a cheerful face on you, I will make you a present.” The king drew from his vest-pocket a purse, well filled with small coin, and gave it to the young man, who took it, though he still looked angry and insolent. “Do not let your under-lip hang down so, for I may step upon it,” said the king. “Put the money in your pocket, and hurry off to tell old Pfund to harness quickly, or I shall not arrive in time at the park.” “There is no danger, your majesty, for the miss seems very fond of the promenade; she remained two hours in the park yesterday, always walking in the most quiet places, as if she were afraid to meet any one. She sat a whole hour on the iron seat by the Carp Pond, and then she went to the Philosopher’s Walk, and skipped about like a young colt.”