The soldiers were gone, it was therefore not necessary to continue the worship of God.  Tobias Stusche repeated a pater-noster, gave his hand to the unknown abbot, and they turned to leave the church.  As they slowly and majestically swept through the aisles, the monks bowed their heads in reverence; the organ breathed its last grand accord, and the glorious sun threw a beckoning love-greeting through the lofty windows of painted glass.  It was a striking and solemn scene, and the unknown abbot seemed strangely impressed.  He paused at the door and turned once more, and his glance wandered slowly over the church.

One hour later the heavy state-coach of the Abbot of Clostenberg rolled down from Camens.  In the coach sat Tobias Stusche with the unknown abbot.  They took the road to Frankenstein.  Not far from the gate the carriage stopped, and to the amazement of the coachman, no abbot, but a soldier clad in the well-known Prussian uniform, descended.  After leaving the coach, he turned again and bowed to the worthy Abbot Stusche.

“I will never forget this bold and noble act of your excellency,” said the king, giving his hand to the abbot.  “You and your cloister may at all times count upon my special favor.  But for your aid, I should this day have been betrayed into a most unworthy and shameful imprisonment.  The first rich abbey which is vacant I will give to you, and then in all future time I will confirm the choice of abbot, which the monks themselves shall make.” [Footnote:  In gratitude for this service, the king gave the rich Abbey of Sentua to Stusche, and kept up with him always the kindest intercourse.  There are letters still preserved written by the king himself to the abbot, filled with expressions of heart-felt kindness and favor.  Frederick sent him from Meissen a beautiful set of porcelain, and splendid stuff for pontifical robes, and rare champagne wine.  While in Breslau, he invited him twice to visit him.  Soon after the close of the Seven Years’ War, Stusche died.  The king sent a royal present to the cloister with a request that on the birthday of the abbot a solemn mass should be celebrated.  Some years later, Frederick stopped at Camens, and told the abbot to commission the first monk who died to bear his loving greeting to the good Abbot Stusche in Paradise.—­ (See Rodenbeck.)]

“O my God!” exclaimed the abbot, “how rarely must your majesty have met with honest and faithful men, if you reward so richly a simple and most natural act of love!”

“Faithful hearts are rare,” said the king.  “I have met this blue-eyed daughter of Heaven but seldom upon my path, and it is perhaps for this reason that her grandeur and her beauty are so enchanting to me.  Farewell, sir abbot, and greet the brother Anastasius for me.”

“Will not your majesty allow me to accompany you to the city?”

“No, it is better that I go on foot.  In a quarter of an hour, I shall be there; my carriage and my guard await me, and I wish no one to be acquainted with the adventures of this day.  It remains a secret between us for the present.”