"But I have no time to read letters now; we will have music, and if
agreeable to you, messieurs, we will practise a quartet which I
composed during my solitude these last few days."
"Let us try it," said Quantz, carelessly opening the piano.
Frederick went to his room to seek his note-book, and place his
letters upon the table, but, before he returned, he called the
marquis to him.
"D'Argens," said he, "may I not thank you for this agreeable
surprise?"
"Yes, sire, I proposed it, and took the responsibility upon myself.
If your majesty is displeased, I am the only culprit!"
"And why have you made yourself the postilion, and brought me all
these letters, marquis?"
"Sire, because--"
"I will tell you, marquis," said Frederick, with a loving glance,
and laying his hand upon D'Argens' shoulder; "you did this, because
you knew my poor heart had received a deep wound, and you wished to
heal it. You wished to surround me with many friends, and make me
forget the one who fails, and who betrayed me. I thank you, marquis!
Yours is a great heart, and I believe your balsam has magic in it. I
thank you for this hour, it has done me good; and though the world
may succeed in poisoning my heart, I will never--never distrust you;
I will never forget this hour!"
"And now, messieurs," said Frederick, as he returned to the
musicians, "we will take our parts, and you, Quantz, take your place
at the piano.
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