'Upstairs is his Excellency asleep; Excellency's room is--to right, do you remember; or to left'-- 'Pshaw, we shall find it!' The Pandours mount; find a bedroom, break it open,--some fifteen or sixteen of them, and one who knows a little French;--come crowding forward: to the horror and terror of the poor inhabitant.' 'QUE VOULEZ-VOUS DONC ?' 'His Excellency Valori!' 'Well, no violence; I am your prisoner: let me dress!' answers the supposed Excellency,--and contrives to secrete portfolios, and tear or make away with papers.
And is marched off, under a select guard, who leave the rest to do the pillage.

And was not Valori at all; was Valori's Secretary, one D'Arget, who had called himself Valori on this dangerous occasion! Valori sat quaking behind his partition; not till the Pandours began plundering the stables did the Prussian sentry catch sound of them, and plunge in." Friedrich had his amusement out of this adventure; liked D'Arget, the clever Secretary; got D'Arget to himself before long, as will be seen;--and, in quieter times, dashed off a considerable Explosion of Rhyme, called LE PALLADION (Valori as Prussia's "Palladium," with Devils attempting to steal him, and the like), which was once thought an exquisite Burlesque,--Kings coveting a sight of it, in vain,--but is now wearisome enough to every reader.

[Valori, i.

242; _OEuvres de Frederic,_ iii.

130: for the Fact.