The prince touched the spring, the cover flew back--it contained only a strip of paper! Upon it was written, in the king’s own handwriting, “Bill of exchange upon my treasurer. Pay to the order of the Prince of Prussia twenty thousand thalers.” [Footnote: “Memoirs of the Countess Lichtenau,” vol.1] The prince’s face lighted up with joy. “Oh! the king has indeed given me a miraculous elixir, that compensates for all misfortunes, heals all infirmities, and is a balsam for all possible griefs. I will bring it into use immediately, and sign the bill of sale.” He signed the paper, and filled with haste the deficiency in the contract. “It is done!” he cried, joyfully, “the proprietress, Wilhelmine Enke; purchaser, Frederick William of Prussia. Nothing remains to be done but to draw upon the king’s treasury, and pay Count Schmettau.” “Your royal highness is spared even that trouble. Here are twenty rolls, and each roll contains one hundred double Fredericks d’or, and, when your highness commands it, I will reserve seven rolls and pay Count Schmettau; then there remain thirteen for yourself. Here is the contract, which you will give in person to the possessor.” “First, I must go to the king,” said the prince; “my heart urges me to express my gratitude to him, and my deep sense of his goodness and tenderness. I feel ashamed without being humbled, like a repentant son, who has doubted the generosity and goodness of his father, because he has sometimes severely reprimanded his faults. I must go at once to the king.” “He will not receive your royal highness,” answered Herzberg, smiling. “You know our sovereign, who so fully deserves our admiration and love. His favor and goodness beam upon us all, and he desires neither thanks nor acknowledgment. He performs his noble, glorious deeds in a harsh manner, that he may relieve the recipients of his bounty from the burden of gratitude; and often when he is the most morose and harsh, is he at heart the most gracious and affectionate. You and yours have experienced it to-day. He appeared to be angry, and enveloped himself in the toga of a severe judge of morals; but, under this toga, there beat the kind, noble heart of a friend and father, who punishes with rigorous words, and forgives with generous, benevolent deeds.” “For this I must thank him--he must listen to me!” cried the prince. “He will be angry if your royal highness forces him to receive thanks when he would avoid them. He has expressly commanded me to entreat you never to allude to the affair, and never to speak of it to others, as it would not be agreeable to his majesty to have the family affairs known to the world. You would best please his majesty by following exactly his wishes, and when you meet him never allude to it. As I have said, this is the express wish and command of the king.”