When the clock struck nine the next morning every difficulty had
been set aside, and every preparation completed. The organist was in
his place, the organ in order; the musicians tuned their
instruments, the singers were prepared, and the chapel-master,
Benda, was in their midst, baton in hand.
All eyes were directed toward the door opposite the choir, through
which the court must enter; all hearts were beating with joyful
expectation--all were anxious to see the king once more in the midst
of his friends, in his family circle. Every one sympathized in the
queen's happiness at being accompanied once more by her husband;
laying aside her loneliness and widowhood, and appearing in public
by his side.
All eyes, as we have said, were impatiently directed toward the
door, waiting for the appearance of their majesties and the court.
Suddenly the door opened. Yes, there was the king. He stepped
forward very quietly, his head a little bowed down; in the midst of
the solemn stillness of the chapel his step resounded loudly.
Yes, it was Frederick the Great, he was alone, accompanied by no
royal state, surrounded by no glittering crowd--but it was the king;
in the glory of his majesty, his endurance, and his valor, radiant
in the splendor of his heroic deeds and his great victories.
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