"Hurrah! long live the Electoral Prince!"

"He comes! Oh, my son, my son!" cried the Electress. "He comes! George,
our son--"

She had turned round and her eye met the count's gaze, who immediately
bowed low and reverentially before her. The Electress only thanked him
with a slight nod of her head, and herself sprang forward to push the
fauteuil into the window niche. Then, with trembling hands, she opened
both window shutters and beckoned her daughters to her side.

"He must see us all, _all_" she said. "With one glance he must take in
father, mother, and sisters."

"And my most faithful and best-beloved servant, the Stadtholder in the
Mark!" cried the Elector. "Come, Adam, place yourself close beside me,
that the picture may be complete, and my son may see us all at once."

Boundless public rejoicings seemed to be in progress below; a loud,
long-sustained, ever-renewed cheering rolled over the square like the roar
of the sea.

"My son, my beloved son!" cried the Electress, leaning far out of the
window and stretching out both arms toward the young man, who had just
emerged from the shrubbery, on horseback and followed by a brilliant train.

"Brother, dear brother!" called out the two Princesses, leaning out of the
other side of the window, and waving their handkerchiefs in token of
welcome. Behind them sat the Elector in his great armchair, quite
forgotten and quite hidden from view by his wife and daughters, not at all