"Impossible; the King is asleep," said the Adjutant on duty; but produced only louder insistence from the drunk Irish gentleman.

"As much as all your heads are worth; the King's own safety, and not a moment to lose!" What is to be done?
They awaken the King: "The man is drunk, but dreadfully in earnest, your Majesty." "Give him quantities of weak tea [Tempelhof calls it tea, but Friedrich merely warm water]; then examine him, and report if it is anything." Something it was: "Your Majesty to be attacked, for certain, this night!" what his Majesty already guessed:--something, most likely little; but nobody to this day knows.

Visible only, that his Majesty, before sunset, rode out reconnoitring with this questionable Irish gentleman, now in a very flaccid state; and altered nothing whatever in prior arrangements;--and that the flaccid Irish gentleman staggers out of sight, into dusk, into rest and darkness, after this one appearance on the stage of history.
[_OEuvres de Frederic,_ v.

63; Tempelhof, iv.

154.] From about 8 in the evening, Friedrich's people got on march, in their several columns, and fared punctually on; one column through the streets of Liegnitz, others to left and to right of that; to left mainly, as remoter from the Austrians and their listening outposts from beyond the Katzbach River;--where the camp-fires are burning extremely distinct to-night.