"He is not alone, for I am with him," replied Dietrich, shaking his head. "I, too, am a man, Chamberlain von Götze, and such my gracious young master esteems me, for he gave express orders that I alone should stay with him, and that nobody else should be admitted until early to-morrow morning. His grace would sleep soundly he said, and rest was the best medicine for him." "But he must take the medicine that the doctor prescribes for him," said the chamberlain earnestly. "You must insist that the Electoral Prince take his medicine regularly." "Dismiss all anxiety, Herr von Götz," replied Dietrich solemnly; "I shall see to it that the Prince regularly takes the medicine he needs." "Here is the prescription!" called out the doctor, entering the chamber and holding out a long strip of paper. "Hurry with it to the apothecary, for I fear its preparation may occasion some little delay, since it is a nice and particular recipe, and consists of fourteen component parts. But it will surely work a cure and afford his highness relief. I shall come again this evening and see how my exalted patient is getting on." And the medical gentleman left the room, followed by the Chamberlain von Götz. "You think then, doctor," asked the latter outside in the passage, "that the Electoral Prince is not seriously sick?" "Have you ever had the sickness which follows too free indulgence in wine, Sir Chamberlain?" asked the doctor gravely. "If so, you know exactly how the Electoral Prince feels." "Badly enough," laughed Herr von Götz. "I have certainly had my own frightful experiences of that sickness. You think then, doctor, I may without impropriety return to Count Schwarzenberg's feast?" "Without any impropriety whatever, Sir Chamberlain. What the Prince chiefly needs is sleep and my medicine. When he has swallowed even a few spoonfuls he will feel much soothed and relieved." The two gentlemen left the castle together, and Dietrich remained alone with the Prince. He had first hastened with the long prescription to the Electoral apothecary, and ordered that it should be left as soon as prepared in the antechamber of the Prince's rooms. Then he had fetched a pitcher of milk from his own chamber, and, kindling a fire in the Prince's sleeping apartment, warmed the milk. Now he approached with the steaming draught the couch of the Prince, who lay sighing and moaning, with closed eyes and tightly compressed lips, paying no heed to Dietrich's entreaties. Finally, after a long pause, he opened his eyes and fixed them with a vacant expression upon the weeping and trembling old man. "Dietrich, I believe I am dying," he gasped. "But do not tell anybody. No one must know what I suffer, else _he_, too, would come to me, and I wish to see his hated face no more." "Most gracious Prince, I beseech you, drink. Here is milk!" "Give it to me, give it to me, Dietrich! Perhaps there is yet hope."