gazed on the slip of paper, could not help
wondering whether any good would come of
it. These were the only words written on it:

DEAR MARSHAL,— If you can forward the views of
the bearer, Heinrich Meyer, you will oblige your
friend,                                               F.

Let me know the result of your interview with him.

"Time will prove this, as it does all other
things," thought Heinrich, as he proceeded on
his way. Somehow or other, the road
appeared less wearisome, and he felt less tired
and footsore, since receiving the mysterious
bit of paper. Hope was stronger within him
than she had been for many a day; and on
her wings he was carried pleasantly along,
so that he reached Berlin by nightfall.

The noise and bustle of the capital was new
to him; and he found some little difficulty in
making his way to the gasthaus, to which he
had been recommended by the pastor of his
parish. The pastor having been once in
Berlin, was considered, in his part of the
world, an oracle in all matters connected with
town-life.

The inn was, however, found at last, and
after a frugal supper and a good night's rest,
our friend arose, ready to hope and believe
everything from the mysterious note, which
he started forth to deliver immediately after
breakfast.

Obliged to ask his way to Marshal Grumbkow's,
he was amused and surprised at the
astonishment depicted on the countenances of
those persons of whom he made the inquiry;
as if they would say, " What business can you
have with the Marshal Grumbkow ?"

The house was however at last gained, and
having delivered his missive to a servant,
Heinrich awaited the result in the hall. In a
few minutes the servant returned, and
requested him, in the most respectful manner,
to follow him to the marshal's presence.
Arrived there, he was received most courteously;
and the marshal made many inquiries
as to his past life and future prospects;
requested to be told the name of the village or
town in which he had been last residing; the
school in which he had been educated; at
what inn he was living in Berlin; and so forth.
But still, no allusion was made, either to the
note or the writer of it. The interview lasted
about twenty minutes; at the end of which
time the marshal dismissed him, desiring
that he would call again on that day fortnight.

Heinrich employed the interval in visiting
the lions of the town. There was a grand
review of the troops on the king's birth-day;
and, like a loyal subject, our friend went to
have a reverent stare at his majesty, whom
he had never seen. At one point of the
review the king stopped almost opposite to
Heinrich; and then was suggested to him, as
the reader probably suspects, that, after all,
he must have seen that face somewhere
before. Was it the friend who hailed him in
the muddy road? Impossible! How should
a king be travelling at that time of the day?
At any rate, it vexed him to think that he
had not treated the gentleman in the coach in
a very ceremonious manner. He had thrust
tinder at his nose, and cried to him " Puff
away!"

At last the time appointed for his second
visit to the marshal arrived. His reception was
again most favourable. The marshal begged
him to be seated at the table at which he was
writing, and proceeded at the same time to
business. Unlocking a drawer, and bringing
forth a small bundle of papers, he asked
Heinrich, as he drew them forth, one by one,
if he knew in whose handwriting the various
superscriptions were?

Heinrich answered, that to the best of his
belief one was that of Herr Mudel, his former
schoolmaster; another, that of Doctor Von
Hummer, the principal of such a college, and
so on.

"Quite right," remarked the marshal, "and
perhaps it may not surprise you to hear that
I have written to these different gentlemen
to inquire your character, that I may know
with whom I have to deal, and not be working
in the dark." As he said these words the
marshal fixed his eyes on Heinrich to see what
effect they had, but the young man's
countenance was unabashed: he evidently feared
no evil report. " I feel bound," continued the
marshal, " to tell you, that all that they say
of you is most favourable, and I am equally
bound to believe and act upon their opinions.
I have now to beg of you to follow me to a
friend's house."

The marshal descended a private staircase
leading to the court-yard, crossing which he
passed through a gate in the wall into a
narrow side street, down which he conducted
Heinrich, till they arrived at a private
entrance to the palace. Heinrich began to
get exceedingly nervous; the conviction that
his idea was not a mere trick of the imagination,
became stronger and stronger. Could he
have had his own wish, Heinrich Meyer
would at that moment have been forty miles
from Berlin. As last as he found himself,
following Grumbkow, even into the palace,
he could not refrain from exclaiming,
"Indeed, Herr Marshal, there must be some
mistake?"

No answer was vouchsafed, as the marshal
continued to lead him through various
galleries and apartments until at last they
reached the door of one situated in a
corner of a wing of the palace, where the
marshal's knock was answered by a short
"come in." As the door opened, one glance
sufficed to convince Heinrich that his friend
in the mud, and his king, were one and the
same person. The poor cousin-seeker greatly
confused, knelt before Frederick-William, and
began faltering out contrite apologies.

"Rise, young man," said the king, "you have
not committed treason. How on earth could
you guess who I was? I should not travel