A month had passed since Amelia dispatched her emissary to the
queen's fireman, and she had as yet received no definite
intelligence. General Riedt had called but once; he told her he had
succeeded in interesting the Savoyard in Trenck's fate, and he had
promised to remind the empress of the unfortunate prisoner. But a
condition must be attached to this promise: no one must approach him
again on this subject; it must be kept an inviolable secret. Only
when Trenck was free would the fireman receive the other half of the
stipulated sum; if he failed in his attempt, he would return the
money he now held.
This was all that the princess had heard from Vienna; her heart was
sorrowful--almost hopeless. Trenck still sat in his wretched prison
at Magdeburg, and she scarcely dared hope for his release.
It was a dark, tempestuous November day. The princess stood at the
window, gazing at the whirling snow-flakes, and listening to the
howling of the pitiless storm. They sounded to her like the raging
shrieks of mocking, contending spirits, and filled her heart with
malignant joy.
"Many ships will go down to destruction in the roaring sea; many men
will lose all that they possess," she murmured, with a coarse laugh.
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