One afternoon in February 1818 I was feeling very lonely. The rain had been falling all day, and it was already getting dark. At such times I like to drink a cup of tea with a friend. So I was glad when Marie said: "The Swedish ambassador is here."

He came in, but he didnt give me his usual smile. He stood quite still for a moment. Then he bowed very low.

"Your Majesty!" he said. "I have come with sad news. King Charles the Thirteenth is dead. His Majesty has requested me to give you this letter."

"Sit down, please, baron." I said. My hand shook as I opened the envelope. The letter was very short:

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