"She sends me a French translation of a prayer-book," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Poor queen! her heart is not yet dead, though, by Heaven! it has suffered enough." He threw the letter carelessly aside, without glancing at the book; its sad, pleading prayer was but an echo of the thoughts trembling in her heart.
"Bagatelles! nothing more," he murmured, after reading the other letters and laying them aside.

He then rang hastily, and bade the servant send Baron Pollnitz to him as soon as he appeared in the audience-chamber.
A few minutes later the door opened, and the old, wrinkled, sweetly smiling face of the undaunted courtier appeared.
"Approach," said the king, advancing a few steps to meet him.

"Do you bring me his submission?
Does my brother Henry acknowledge that it is vain to defy my power ?" Pollnitz shrugged his shoulders.

"Sire," he said, sighing, "his highness will not understand that a prince must have no heart.