" Wendelin XVI did not listen to what she
said; his heart was very heavy, and every time one of the bells rang out
above the others, or the chorus sang, "lucky Wendelin, our king,"
particularly distinctly and enthusiastically, he felt as if he were being
jeered at and ridiculed. He longed to cry aloud in his shame and pain,
and to fly for comfort to his sympathetic mother and strong brother in
the other boat. When he stared into the water it seemed as if the fish
made fun of him, and if he looked at the sky he imagined the moon made a
mocking grimace at him, and looked down scornfully at the wretched man
whom they called "fortunate." He knew not where to gaze, he withdrew
within himself, and tried to shut his ears, while he wished to Heaven
that he could change places with the active sailor opposite who was
setting the purple sail with his brawny arms.
A light breeze wafted the royal gondola towards the island where the
fireworks were to be displayed. The second boat followed at a short
distance. George held his mother's hand and his wife's in his own, few
words were spoken, but their very silence betrayed the great treasure of
their love and happiness, and spoke more plainly than long discourses how
dear these three persons were to one another.
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