'Do you always judge so hastily and uncharitably, my young warrior?' asked Swedenborg, mildly reproaching him: 'and do you absolutely despise and reject every thing that your weak understanding cannot comprehend? Know you the central power of nature, that point in infinite space whence issue the streams of power in an eternal spiral motion, bringing forth the forms of life and activity in endless succession? And while you remain ignorant of all these things, how can you presume to reject calculations founded upon this eternal basis?' 'I cannot argue with you,' answered Arwed, 'while I do not understand you:--and, in the mean time, I must be permitted to consider as perfect nonsense what you have been serving up to me as the highest wisdom.' 'Hold me and my doctrines in what light you please,' said Swedenborg, 'so you but fulfill my request. Lose not sight of the king, during this night. The powers of hell are busy.' 'What can threaten the hero from which I may be able to defend him?' asked Arwed. 'He who eats my bread tramples me under foot,' chanted Swedenborg, with a deep hollow voice. 'Thus it happened to Gustavus, by the fourth rider who left the camp with him. Do you know the tale from the faithful Hastenfeld, of his king's assassination?' 'What mean you by that?' asked Arwed earnestly.--But the prophet had disappeared. CHAPTER VIII. Arwed arrived at the king's quarters.--Upon giving his name, the ordnance officer on duty showed him into the royal chamber, without further annunciation. With a prayer book in his lap, and a miniature in his hand which he was attentively viewing, Charles sat by the chimney, in which some sheets of paper were burning. A heap of glowing ashes showed that a large quantity of paper had been previously destroyed in the same manner.--Arwed approached the king, who, sitting with his back towards him and absorbed in the contemplation of the miniature, was not aware of his presence. Arwed saw and recognized the picture. It was the portrait of Gustavus Adolphus. Then suddenly Swedenborg's prophecy came into his mind, and a secret apprehension respecting the hero, drew from him a deep sigh. The king looked around. 'Aha, captain Gyllenstierna!' said he, rising up and carefully putting aside the prayer book and portrait. 'You showed much bravery against the enemy in yesterday's action. You are too young for the rank of major, and I do not like to give stars and orders. Have you any favor to ask?' 'This commendation from my king is the greatest favor that could be conferred upon me,' answered Arwed. 'If your majesty will but continue as kindly disposed towards me, I shall be more than rewarded.' 'No!' said the king vehemently, 'I will not remain your debtor. God may call me to himself to-day or to-morrow, and then must my earthly accounts be balanced. Ask some favor of me. I am well disposed towards you.'