"It is his handwriting," he murmured; "but I will examine it again." Speaking thus, he stepped hastily to his escritoire, and took from a small box several closely written yellow papers, and compared them with the document which Weingarten had given him.
Ah, how little did Trenck dream, as he wrote those letters, that they would witness against him, and stamp him as a criminal! They were already a crime in the king's eyes, for they were tender letters that Trenck had dared to write from Vienna to the Princess Amelia.

They had never reached her! And not those tender epistles of a tearful and unhappy love must bear witness against the writer, and condemn him for the second time! "It is his handwriting," said the king, as he laid the letters again in the box.

"I thank you, Baron Weingarten, you have saved me from a disagreeable occurrence, for, if I will not even believe that Trenck intended murder, he was at all events willing to create a scene, if only to gratify his vanity.

It appears that he has now played out his role at Vienna, as well as in St.Petersburg and Berlin, and the world would forget him if he did not attract its attention by some mad piece of folly.

How he intended to accomplish this I do not know, but certainly not by a murder--no, I cannot believe that!" "Your majesty is always noble and magnanimous, but it appears to me that these words can have but one meaning.