“The lieutenant who went to the court quarter of the camp brought me a large bundle of letters. I was in highest joy, thinking surely I should find some from you; but I was deceived, for I found nothing except letters from Prince Ernest and from Marshal Podevils. Every one is writing but you. I have reproached you so much that I will say no more, except that you have been dancing at Colt’s _fête_.[125] I will, however, wait for your letters from Antwerp, which I hope will clear up everything. But you cannot excuse your behaviour at Hanover, especially when the foreigners were there; and whatever the Duke might have wished you to do, you ought not to have consented. This will be the very last letter I shall write to you if I hear nothing from you.” ----- Footnote 125: Colt’s _fête_ was given on Sunday, June 18. ----- _The Princess to Königsmarck._ “BROCKHAUSEN [undated (? _July_ 2)]. “I suffer agony, and can no longer bear the pain your unjust suspicions cause me. You told me yourself to write only once to Wesel, and all my other letters have gone to Antwerp. You ought, however, to have received some of them. I know not to whom to attribute this carelessness, but you are greatly in the wrong if you believe that I have forgotten you. Time will prove my innocence and your injustice. I am hurt to the quick, for since your departure my only thought has been how best to show you my fidelity. I am grieved that you are displeased because I went to Monsieur Colt’s _fête_, but I could not avoid going, they pressed me so much. The foreigners did not detain me at Hanover; they left a few days before I came to Brockhausen; I have already told you I did not talk to them. I am incapable of deceiving you, even in thought; I love you too passionately. Yet you believe I betray you. You will not write to me. You plunge me in despair. How do I know? What if some one has held back my letters to make us quarrel? I have thousands of evil forebodings and many fears, but you cap them all and overwhelm me with grief by believing me guilty. Ought it even to enter your mind that I should fail in the love I bear you? I would rather fail to myself, for you are a thousand times dearer to me. “Unfortunately the floods still detain us here.[126] I am grieved because of my letters. We may be here for a week, perhaps.” ----- Footnote 126: “The extraordinary floods have kept the Duke from Celle.”—Colt’s _Despatches_, July 4, 1692. ----- “BROCKHAUSEN, _July_ 7.