"Do not you remember," said Laniska, "that, as we were returning from Berlin, after my unlucky visit to the porcelain manufactory, you promised me, that whenever I should be in want of your weapons, they should be at my service? I little thought that I should so soon be in such need of them. Farewell--I pray for their success." On the day appointed for the trial of Laniska, crowds of people of all ranks flocked to hear the proceedings. A spacious building in Potzdam, intended for a barrack, was, upon this occasion, converted into a hall of justice; a temporary gallery was erected for the accommodation of the audience; and a platform was raised in the centre of the hall, where the judge's chair was placed: on the right hand of his chair a space was railed in for the reception of the twelve young gentlemen, who were to act as jurors; on the left another space was railed in for spectators. In the front there was a large table, on each side of which were benches for the counsel and witnesses: those for the crown on the right hand; those for the prisoner on the left. Every thing had, by the king's orders, been prepared in this manner, according to the English custom. The Countess Laniska now entered the court, with a few friends, who had not yet forsaken her. They took their seats at the lower end of the gallery; and as every eye turned upon the mother, who waited to hear the trial of her son, an awful silence prevailed. This lasted but for a few moments; it was succeeded by a general whispering amongst the crowds, both in the hall and in the gallery. Each individual gave his opinion concerning the event of the trial: some declared that the circumstances which must appear against Laniska were so strong, that it was madness in Albert to undertake his defence; others expressed great admiration of Albert's intrepid confidence in himself and his friend. Many studied the countenance of the king, to discover what his wishes might be; and a thousand idle conjectures were formed from his most insignificant movements.