A desperate pinch, and it must be solved.
Female wit and Wilhelmina did solve it, by some pre-eminently acute device of their despair; [Wilhelmina, i.

253-257.] and contrived to get the Letters out: hundreds of Letters, enough to be our death if read, says Wilhelmina.

These Letters they burnt; and set to writing fast as the pen would go, other letters in their stead.

Fancy the mood of these two Royal Women, and the black whirlwind they were in.

Wilhelmina's despatch was incredible; pen went at the gallop night and day: new letters, of old dates and of no meaning, are got into the Desk again; the Desk closed, without mark of injury, and shoved aside while it is yet time .-- Time presses; his Majesty too, and the events, go at gallop.
Here is a Letter from his Majesty, to a trusty Mistress of the Robes, or whatever she is; which, let it arrive through what softening media it likes, will complete the poor Queen's despair:-- "MY DEAR FRAU VON KAMECKE,--Fritz has attempted to desert.