"That is indeed a bad business," said the count thoughtfully, "for it is almost impossible to raise money in these hard times. Nevertheless a remedy shall and must be found, provided that my most gracious Sovereign will condescend to accept aid from his most humble servant and retainer."
"What say you, Adam? You will help me again?" asked the Elector. "Twice you have rescued me already from want, and supported my poverty with your wealth. I am your debtor, your insolvent debtor, who pays no interest, to say nothing of the capital."
"But like a magnanimous, high-spirited gentleman, always give the greater for the less," cried Schwarzenberg, smiling. "It is true I had the good fortune to be able to lend your highness a hundred thousand dollars on two occasions, but your highness gave me in pledge two fair domains in Cleves, which surely would be worth more than the sum lent if they should be sold."
"But nobody would buy them now because war and pestilence rage there, and no one knows who is master there. I give them to you, however, these domains of Huissen and Neustadt: from this very hour they are yours, and I shall forthwith make out for you a deed of donation."
"Oh, my most revered sir, how kind and generous you are!" said
Schwarzenberg, "and how you shame me with your magnanimity and goodness!
With grateful and submissive heart I accept your gift, and shall this very
day tear to pieces both the bonds, and lay them at your Electoral
Highness's feet."
"By no means, Adam," said the Elector, almost indignantly, "for then I should not have presented you with Huissen and Neustadt, but you would have paid for them!"
"Then, at least, let me add now another sum, most honored sir, and condescend to accept from me fifty thousand dollars without writing an acknowledgement of debt."
"Will you lend me fifty thousand dollars?" asked the Elector, joyfully surprised.
"I received important remittances of money from my mastership Sonnenburg, and have also saved something from my estates," said the count. "It is true for the time being I have nothing left for myself, but it is better that the servant should suffer privation than his lord. I shall have the honor of transmitting to your highness this very day the fifty thousand dollars in specie and reliable bills of exchange."
"And I shall immediately write you a receipt for them with my own hand," cried the Elector, hastening with youthful speed to his writing table, and grasping paper and pen. With alacrity he dashed off a few words on the paper, moistened a great wafer, laid paper over it, and, pasting it beneath the writing, pressed his great signet upon it.
"There is the deed," he said; "take it, Schwarzenberg, and send me the money."
But the count refused the proffered paper, smilingly waving it off with his hand, while reverentially taking one step backward.
"First the money and then the deed," he said; "all must be in order, gracious sir, and you shall not acknowledge yourself a debtor ere you have received your money."
"Oh! how well I feel all at once!" cried the Elector, "and what a free, glad consciousness I have again in no longer feeling myself a poor debtor, but once more knowing that I have money in my pockets. Now we will give orders for our servants to be paid off; then we will pay the Electoral Prince's debts, and send him money for his traveling expenses, that he may come home and have no pretext for refusal and delay."
"Your highness ought to send another chamberlain to persuade the Electoral Prince in a friendly manner to return," said the count. "There is, for example, Herr von Marwitz, a peculiarly polished and clever gentleman, and in good standing with the Electress and all favorers of the Swedes, but withal a faithful servant of his honored lord."
"Yes, Marwitz shall set off for The Hague, and to-day, too," replied the Elector, with animation. "Marwitz shall bring back my son to me, and I shall exhort and command him under penalty of my wrath to take no excuses whatever, and to enter into no further explanations. He shall pay his debts, take my son money for his journey, and say to the Electoral Prince that my accumulated wrath as father and Elector will fall upon and crush him if he does not now obey me. I will have an obedient and submissive son, with whom my will is law, else it were better that I had no son! This very day Marwitz shall set out."
"I beg the favor of your Electoral Highness to defer the departure of the Chamberlain von Marwitz until to-morrow," pleaded the count. "Your grace will without doubt desire to write a few words to your son; the Electress, too, will doubtless avail herself of the opportunity to communicate with her son and dear relatives; and I also have a few dispatches to prepare for our envoys there. Most humbly, therefore, I beseech you that Marwitz may not commence his journey to The Hague until to-morrow or the day after."
"To-morrow then be it, Adam, to-morrow he must start."
"Then your highness and the Electress must prepare your letters to-day, and—candidly speaking, I had a great request to make of your Electoral Grace. I have arranged a little hunting party for to-day, and would esteem it an especial favor if your highness would do me the honor to take part in it."
"I shall do so gladly, most gladly!" cried George William, delighted. "I could desire no more pleasant diversion for the present day than a little hunting party, and you know that well, Adam, and understand splendidly how to guess at my wishes. Yes, we shall hunt—but I have no dogs. Mine were all left behind in Prussian, and the head huntsman informs me that the pack of dogs in this place is in very bad condition. I want a hunter and a strong fellow, such a capital boarhound as I have long wished for but have never been able to find."
"I hope that I have found such an one for your highness," said the count, smiling. "I have had inquiries instituted everywhere, and learned that there was a capital animal at Stargard, in Pomerania. I immediately dispatched a special messenger to Herr von Schwiebus, to whom the animal belongs, and in your highness's name asked the purchase price of the boarhound, and requested that they would send the creature along for your inspection."
"And he is here, the boarhound?" asked the Elector, with sparkling eyes. "Adam, you do indeed understand how to rejoice my heart and guess my wishes. Where is the boarhound? Let me see him."
"Most gracious sir, Herr von Schwiebus seems perfectly wrapped up in this animal, and at first would not hear at all of parting with him; indeed, he was quite angry with Count Henkel for having told me of his precious possession. Only when he heard that it was your Electoral Grace who wished to make the purchase, he softened down a little, and sent a picture which he has had taken of his favorite, in order that your highness might form an idea of the animal and decide whether it would really please you."
"Have you the picture with you, Adam?" asked the Elector eagerly.
The count hurried to the door and took from the little table standing there a roll of paper, which he had laid there on his entrance. He unfolded it, spread it out on a table, and on each corner of the paper placed a weight.
"I entreat your highness just to observe the portrait of the beautiful animal," he begged.
The Elector hastily approached, and an expression of joyful surprise escaped from his lips at the sight of this picture, which, executed with tolerable artistic skill in water colors, represented a large and finely shaped hound, with massive head, clipped ears, and long tail.
"Adam, that is a wonderful animal!" cried the Elector, after a pause of mute rapture. "That boarhound I must have, let it cost what it will. Tell me the price, Adam, the price for this divine creature."
"Most gracious Elector, Herr von Schwiebus seems to be a queer fellow. He said the dog would not seem dear to him in exchange for all the money in the world. If, however, your highness insisted upon buying him, he would give him up on condition that in payment for the dog he might cut down in the electoral forests three thousand trees of his own selection."[16]
"He shall have his price, yes, he shall have it!" cried the Elector, his eyes fixed immovably upon the portrait. "Send forthwith a courier from me to Herr von Schwiebus, and have him notified that I buy the boarhound for three thousand trees, which he may select and fell from my Letzling forest. He shall, conformably with his terms, immediately send me the boarhound. Make haste, Adam, and attend to this matter for me; I long so to have the beautiful creature here. And as regards the Electoral Prince, we will put off Marwitz's departure until the day after to-morrow, for we shall not have time for letter writing to-day on account of the hunting party, and that will occasion the delay of one more day."
VI.—REVELATIONS.
"Not until the day after to-morrow will Marwitz set out on his journey," said Count Schwarzenberg contentedly to himself, when he had left the Elector, and was once more alone in his own cabinet. "Not until the day after to-morrow! So Gabriel Nietzel will have three days the start of him, and, moreover, he can travel more rapidly. The only thing to be considered now is, what shall be the nature of his errand there? We shall at once deliberate as to what will be best!"
Long did he pace the floor of his cabinet with bowed head and arms crossed upon his chest; then all of a sudden he whistled for his valet, and ordered him to look for Master Gabriel Nietzel, and to bring him in at once.
"Your grace," replied the valet, "Master Nietzel has just come into the antechamber, and requests an audience of you."
"Admit him. But first I have a few tasks to give you. Listen!" he beckoned the valet to come nearer, and softly and hurriedly communicated his instructions. "And now," he concluded, "now let the master enter, and then make haste to do what I have told you."
"Well," cried the count, when a few minutes later Gabriel Nietzel entered the cabinet—"well, now tell me, master, what brings you here so early. My appointment with you was not until this evening."
"Forgive me, your excellency, but in the joy of my heart I thought you might perhaps bestow a moment upon me. I only wished to let your excellency know that it has turned out exactly as I hoped. I communicated to the Electress my purpose of making an artist's tour into Holland. Her highness seemed highly delighted at the idea, and gave me an open note to the Electoral Prince, introducing me to her son as a skillful portrait painter."
"Just show me this note."
The painter handed him a small, neatly folded paper, which the count tore open and perused with a rapid glance.
"Nothing more, in fact, than a very warm recommendation," he said. "And this is all?"
"No, your excellency, the best part is yet to come. The Electress has appointed me her court painter. I receive the same salary as the recently deceased court painter, Mathias Ezizeken, namely, a yearly income of fifty dollars, board and rent free, with two suits of new clothes annually." [17]
"Now, indeed, you may well be content," laughed the count; "that is truly a magnificent appointment, and henceforth you become a prominent man at court here! But tell me, master, do you still accept in addition the little stipend I have allotted you?"
"Your excellency, I esteem myself happy indeed that your grace has granted it to me."
"And my treasurer has paid out to you the three thousand ducats?"
"Yes, your excellency, he has paid them out to me, and I am now released from all cares."
"You have only one care left, master," said Count Schwarzenberg—"this one care, that I may some day denounce you as a shameful deceiver, who has sold me a bad copy of his own manufacture for an original, and be assured that this deception may bring you to the gallows at any time if I choose it."
"But, most gracious sir," stammered the painter, pale as death, "I thought you had forgiven me, and—"
"Forgiven, so long as you are a faithful and obedient servant," replied the count, in a severe tone—"forgiven, so long as I can count upon your submission; but forget, that I shall never do. And at the slightest mistake, the least resistance to my commands, I shall remember what a cheat and good-for-nothing you are, and take back my forgiveness. You have the three thousand ducats, but you have not yet given a receipt for them. Sit you down there at my table and write the receipt. I will dictate it to you myself."
Like an obedient slave Gabriel Nietzel slunk to the table, sank down before it, took the pen which the count handed him, and placed it on the paper put before him.
"Write," ordered the count, and with loud voice he dictated: "I, Gabriel Nietzel, painter by profession, hereby affirm that I have this day received from his excellency the Stadtholder in the Mark, Count Schwarzenberg, the sum of three thousand ducats in ready money. This money is the price paid for a painting by Titiano Vecellio, representing the goddess of beauty with a Cupid, who presents Venus her looking-glass. I bought this picture at Cremona for two thousand ducats, and I vow and swear upon my conscience and by all that I hold sacred that this painting, which I have sold to the count for an original painting, is actually an original painting by Titiano Vecellio's own hand."
"Now, master, why do you hesitate? Why do you not write?"
"Oh, sir, have some pity upon me!" groaned the painter. "I can not write that. I can not swear that it is an original by all I hold sacred."
"Why, what does it signify?" laughed the count; "paper is lenient. The advantage to me is only that I can by means of this receipt prove to connoisseurs and picture lovers that I have bought an original painting from you. For the rest, if you will not write, why then, very good. I shall have you arrested on the spot, inform the Electress of what a deceiver you are, have the three thousand ducats forthwith taken away again, and keep you in prison until the suit is made out against you; then you shall be hung conformably with law and usage."
"Mercy, your excellency, mercy!" gasped Nietzel. "I am writing even now!"
And with trembling hands he completed the receipt, and, on the count's further command, subscribed his name.
Schwarzenberg read it over attentively. "This is a document, my dear painter," he said, smiling, "that may some day bring you to the gallows, for, only see, I have other confirmatory evidence."
From a casket on his table he drew forth a roll of parchment, to which were attached two great seals, hanging by silken strings, and while he unrolled it he beckoned the painter to come near. "See," he said, "this is a testimonial which I have had made out for me at Venice by the Duke di Grimani, affirming that Titian's Venus is his property, and that you spent three months in his palace painting a copy of the original. You see well, dear court-painter Nietzel, that you are completely in my hands, and that I can have you strung up at any time, for the Stadtholder makes short work of cheats and perjurers, and sends them off to the gallows, where they belong! Now say, master, will you to the gallows or will you live in honor and joy as the Electress's court painter and my secret pensioner, my open foe? I give you free choice. Make your own unbiased decision."
"I have no longer any choice," groaned Gabriel Nietzel. "Your excellency well knows that I have no choice. I love life; I have not courage to die, therefore I am your slave."
"Not at all; you are court painter to her highness the Electress, and shall retain your office if you behave yourself wisely and discreetly. This very day you set out on your journey to Holland."
A flash of joy gleamed in the painter's eyes, and his brow cleared. The count remarked it and laughed aloud.
"Oh, my dear! I guess your thoughts," he cried. "You think that when you are in Holland I can no longer reach you, and you will take good care not to put yourself in my power again. But know that my arm is far-reaching, and that I have spies and agents everywhere, who are very devoted to me because I pay them well. They will find you out wherever you are, and no jurisdiction would refuse delivering up to me a criminal if I demanded him. But besides that, Master Gabriel Nietzel, I hold here a sure pledge for your valuable person."
"What sort of pledge does your excellency mean?" inquired Nietzel anxiously.
"Why, I mean the fair Rebecca, whom you brought with you from the Ghetto of Venice, and whom it pleases you here to give out to be your wife, married at Venice. I hope, however, that you have not committed so heinous a sin as to take a Jewess to wife, for then you should not escape with the gallows, but should be burned at the stake with your cursed Jewess, your bold paramour."
Master Nietzel answered not a word. With a loud groan he sank upon a chair, and covered his face with both his hands, weeping aloud.
"Your fair Rebecca stays behind here with your boy," continued Count Schwarzenberg; "and that she may be in perfect safety and never lack for my protection, I shall have her brought to Spandow, my usual place of residence. There she shall live, well watched and cared for, and there remain until your return. If, however, you have then proved yourself to be a good and obedient servant, I will myself restore to you your Rebecca, and nobody shall dare to molest you."
"Tell me what I have to do, your excellency," said the painter, with cold, desperate decision. "I am ready and willing for everything, for I love my Rebecca and my son, and I will deserve them."
"And it will not be made hard for you, master. You go, then, to Holland, introduce yourself to the Electoral Prince through the Electress's letter of recommendation, and try to make yourself as agreeable and charming to him as possible. When you have succeeded in that, lament to him that life in Holland does not suit you at all, that you are homesick, and entreat most earnestly that the Electoral Prince include you in his traveling suite. This he will naturally do, and you will accompany him on his journey home. Have you understood me, and paid good heed to all my words, Master Nietzel?"
"Yes, your excellency, I have noted each word."
"And you have found without doubt that it is by no means a difficult thing that I require of you. But the journey back, Master Nietzel, the journey back is a very dangerous and bad affair. You know, so many freebooters rove about everywhere, and Westphalia especially is swarming with Swedes and Hessians. If such a troop of soldiers knew beforehand that the Electoral Prince was coming that way, they would certainly lie in wait for him and fall upon him, either for purposes of plunder or in order to carry him off and extort a high ransom for him. The Electoral Prince will not passively submit to capture, but will resist; a battle will ensue, and then it might easily happen that in the heat of conflict a dagger should pierce the Prince or a ball go through his head. Those Swedes and Hessians are wild, fierce soldiers, and the Prince is in perpetual danger, especially in Westphalia. You must represent this to the Electoral Prince, and, to prove to him your zeal and love, you will entreat permission always to go a few hours in advance of him to make sure that the way is free and the Electoral Prince is threatened by no danger. He will therefore each morning acquaint you with the course of his route, and where to arrange night quarters for him, and the point where you shall rejoin him again. You are to precede the Electoral Prince as courier, and if, some day, he should be attacked at a wild spot on the road by a troop of Swedish or Hessian soldiery, robbed, taken prisoner, or even killed, that is no fault of yours, and no one could blame you on that account, for you have proved and evidenced your zeal in the most striking manner. You have comprehended me, Master Nietzel? Have you paid good heed to my words?"
"Yes, your excellency, I have paid good heed, and understood everything well," returned Master Gabriel, on whose brow the sweat stood in great drops.
"Well, I have only this to add: Should the unfortunate accident really happen that the Electoral Prince is attacked by robbers and killed in Westphalia or somewhere else, then look to it, that you be found that day among his defenders, and bear off as token some wound received—for instance, a sabre thrust on the right arm. With this true sign of your valor and your faithfulness come here to Berlin, and be assured that no one shall dare to suspect you when he witnesses your grief and especially your sabre thrust. It need be no deep wound, and surely the fair Rebecca has a healing balm which she can apply to you. Besides, the Electress will protect you, and be certain that I will stand by you with all my might and influence. And now, master, we have concluded all our business, and you will set out in an hour. I permit you, however, first to take leave of your fair Rebecca and the pretty child. Only, you must not be alone again with the beautiful woman, and therefore I have given orders that your wife and son be brought here. You will be pleased to stay so long at my chamberlain's house; luncheon shall be served there for yourself and your family, and you can take it in the presence of my chamberlain. I have already imparted to you the needed commands, and taken care to have your wife and child fetched directly here. A vehicle is also prepared, ready to convey your wife to Spandow; I have a good, trustworthy housekeeper in my house there, and with her the two can dwell, and shall want for nothing, except it be yourself."
"Most gracious sir," said Gabriel Nietzel, with an expression of deep anguish, "I love my wife and child above everything, and am prepared to suffer and endure everything for them. But if I returned home and found my wife sick, or dead, or, what were yet worse, found her—
"Well, why do you hesitate, master? Faithless, found her faithless, would you say—well, what then?"
"Well, then life would have no value at all to me," said Gabriel Nietzel firmly and decidedly. "Then would it be quite indifferent to me whether I were hanged or burned; then would I desire nothing but to die, and—before my death to avenge myself."
"Ah! I understand you quite well, master, and know you well. You please me uncommonly with your energetic defiance and your hidden threat. In return I, too, will give you an open, candid answer. Master Gabriel Nietzel, I am no enamored fool, who runs after every apronstring, or generally takes any special pleasure in women. I have neither time nor inclination for that, and leave such things to the young, the idle, and men who have no ambition and no head, but only a heart. I, Master Gabriel, have no heart at all, or at least none now any longer, and I herewith give you my word of honor as a nobleman and gentleman that your lovely Rebecca has nothing to dread from me. On the contrary, I shall have her watched and guarded, as if she were a ward intrusted to me, for whose honor I held myself responsible."
"I thank your excellency—I thank you with my whole heart," said Gabriel Nietzel, breathing more freely; "and now you shall find me ready and willing to execute your commands faithfully and punctiliously."
"It rejoices me, master, it rejoices me to see what a tender husband, or rather lover, you are. I repeat to you, you need feel no anxiety about your Rebecca. She will find herself quite secure in my society, while I fear that the Electoral Prince will have but little safety in your society, but be very often in danger."
"I fear so, too, your excellency," said Gabriel Nietzel, with a feeble effort to smile.
"But a good old proverb has it, 'All they that take the sword shall perish by the sword,'" continued the count. "It is not your fault, master, if the Electoral Prince does not know this proverb. Now farewell, master, and be of good courage, for another good proverb says, 'Fortune smiles on the brave.' Go now, master, my chamberlain awaits you in the antechamber."
"I am going, your excellency," said Gabriel Nietzel humbly. "May almighty
God be with us all, and guard my wife and child!"
He bowed low and reverentially, then strode hastily toward the door.
"Gabriel Nietzel, one word more!" called out the count, as the painter stood with his hand already upon the door knob. He turned and slowly came back. "Master Gabriel Nietzel," continued the count, with a mocking laugh, "be so good as to give me the Electress's letter."
The painter drew forth his leather pocketbook, took out the open letter of recommendation, and handed it to the count.
But the latter smilingly rejected it. "You may keep that, master; I have already read that. The other, the second missive from the Electress, you must give me."
Gabriel Nietzel shrank back, and gazed into the count's large, glittering eyes.
"The other writing," he murmured, "the second writing?"
"Why, yes, master, that secret writing, which you have naturally promised to shield with the last drop of your blood, and to hand inviolate into the hands of the Electoral Prince. My God! we know how often such oaths are made, and that hardly one has ever been kept. You have not been made court painter for nothing, with your salary of fifty dollars, free rent, and two suits of clothes. You must give something in return. Give me that second writing of the Electress, the one which you have sworn to hand only to the Electoral Prince; or rather, no, you shall not forswear yourself. Just tell me where you have stuck it, and I shall take it for myself."
"Your excellency, it sticks in my left breast pocket," whispered Gabriel Nietzel. The count laughed aloud, and with one movement drew forth from Master Gabriel's left breast pocket a small packet, wound round with silken strings. With cautious hand, extremely solicitous not to break the string, he untied it, and took out the paper found beneath. Within this, indeed, lay a small, well-sealed letter.
"'To my dear son, the Electoral Prince Frederick William,'" read the count, with loud voice. "You see, I was not mistaken. It is the Electress's handwriting, and it is directed to the Electoral Prince."
"And I have solemnly sworn to give it into no other hands than his," murmured the painter.
"You shall keep your oath, Master Gabriel. Now go into the antechamber. My chamberlain awaits you there, and perhaps your fair Rebecca is also there already!"
"But my letter, your excellency—shall I not have my letter again?"
"Certainly, master, you shall have it again. In a half hour I shall come out myself and give it to you. Oh, fear nothing. The Prince will not suspect that any strange hand has touched it. Indeed, it concerns me very nearly that the Electoral Prince should put confidence in you, and be convinced of your honesty and good faith. Go now, master, I shall bring the secret epistle back to you unscathed, and put it again into your left breast pocket."
When Master Gabriel Nietzel had crept out slowly and sorrowfully, the count hastened to his writing table, took up flint, tinder, and steel, and made the sparks fly until one fired the tinder and made it glow. Now he held a splinter of wood to the glowing tinder, and by its flame lighted the wax taper in the golden candlestick. Then he quickly fetched, from a secret drawer of his writing table, a small knife with a fine thin blade, heated this at the light, and carefully and adroitly slipped it under the great electoral seal, which he carefully detached from the letter. He laid it carefully upon a small marble slab, and opened the letter. It was a very long, confidential communication from the Electress to her beloved son. With closest attention the count read it twice, and then with great pains folded it up again.
"It is just as I thought," he said softly to himself: "the Electress wishes the longer absence of her son. She intimates to him that she will not be displeased if he marries there, and even promises that she will soften his father's wrath. She counsels him not to come here, and warns him against the evil spirit who has ensnared his father's heart, and surely aims at the life of her dear and noble son. Well, it must be confessed, the Electress is on the right trail. Her mother's instinct gives her insight into the future, and makes her a prophetess. I know it very well, Electress: we two have never loved one another, and have carried on a bitter warfare against each other for twenty years, in which, however, God be thanked, Schwarzenberg has always come off victorious. I hope, too, it will continue to be so, and this letter will furnish me with a good weapon. I shall take a copy of it. Who knows what use I may make of it one of these days, and out of this paper fashion a dagger which may turn against the writer and against the receiver, if it reaches the hands of the Electoral Prince. Yes, I shall take a copy, and then restore the original to its envelope and affix the seal. And Master Gabriel shall take it to you, my dear Prince. Oh, take heed, and be upon your guard, Frederick William, for your respected mother is right. I am your evil spirit, and I can only stand if you fall; therefore, fall you must! Oh, I have learned much to-day, and received many a good lesson. 'It is better,' so said the Elector to me—'it is better that I have no son than a disobedient son, who resists my will.' But he shall resist you, Elector George William—he will be disobedient to you, and I shall do my part toward making him so. Then how said Count Lesle: 'If the son becomes the father's enemy, then it must be contrived to render the father the son's enemy; thus will the equilibrium be preserved.' Oh, my dear Count Lesle, I know very well the history of Philip of Spain and his disobedient and rebellious son Don Carlos. Take care, take care, Electoral Prince Frederick William, that you share not the fate of Don Carlos, and that your father punish you not as King Philip did his son!"
BOOK II.
I.—THE DOUBLE RENDEZVOUS.
The Princess Ludovicka Hollandine walked restlessly to and fro in her apartment. Sometimes she stopped at the window and listened intently; then, finding all without still dark and silent, she stepped back and continued her restless walk, at times listening again at door or window. While passing the great Venetian mirror on the wall, on both sides of which were placed two silver candlesticks with immense burning wax tapers, she caught sight of her image as brightly and distinctly as if it had been a portrait, and she drew nearer, like a connoisseur bent on examining a picture. She saw before her within the carved gilt framework a beautiful maiden's form, in sky-blue satin robe that fell in wide, heavy folds around her full and blooming figure. The low-necked bodice left wholly uncovered her dazzling white shoulders, and beneath the transparent gauze of her sleeves shone the fair white arms as from out a silver cloud. Her head rested proudly and gracefully upon the slender alabaster neck, and was crowned by a profusion of black hair, caught up behind in great loops, and fastened with bows of blue satin ribbon. On the broad and lofty brow it was massed in the form of a diadem, with numberless pretty little ringlets. Her cheeks were pale, but of that clear, transparent paleness which has nothing in common with sickness and suffering, but is only peculiar to vehement, passionate natures, with whom the cheeks are colorless, because all the blood concentrates in the heart. Her large dark eyes had at the same time a languid, melting expression and the fire and glow of passion; the finely cut, slightly curved nose, the firm, somewhat projecting chin, indicated energy and decision; and around the full, rosy lips hovered a singular expression of good nature and frivolity.
She contemplated herself for a long time, then a well-pleased smile passed over her fascinating countenance. "I am beautiful," she said, "yes, I am beautiful, and I believe those are right who suppose that I resemble my great-grand-mother, the beautiful Mary Stuart. O Mary! you beautiful, bewitching Queen—oh teach me the arts which won for you the hearts of all men; inspire me with the glow of passion, let it flash forth from me in bright flames, and grant that these flames may kindle and fire the one I love, whom I will possess, and on whom all my hopes and desires are fixed! But hush! did I not hear steps?"
She again hurried to the window and listened, holding her breath. A shrill, thrice-repeated whistle was heard, sounding strangely awful in the stillness of the night.
"It is he," murmured the Princess, "it is the concerted signal."
She took from a table standing near a package consisting of cords and knots, and unrolled it. It was a rope ladder, twisted artfully and durably of fine cords, and held together at the top by a strong iron ring. This ring the Princess now slipped over the iron hook which was fixed in the middle of the cross work of the window, and lowered the rope ladder, while at the same time, as if in answer, she repeated the whistle in the same manner. Then she bounded back from the window, flew through the room to both doors, assured herself that the bolts were secured, and with hasty hands dropped the curtains over them.
"No one can hear us, no one can see us, no one can get in here," she murmured; "he may come."
A slight rustling was heard below the window, then a dark mass appeared in the open space, and a closely muffled manly form jumped from the windowsill down into the apartment. Wholly enveloped in the folds of an ample black cloak, whose hood was thrown over the head and drawn far over the face, it was impossible to recognize the visitor's features.
The person thus disguised curiously and inquisitively turned his head to both sides of the room, strode rapidly across it, lifted the curtains from both doors, examined the fastenings of the bolts, went to the divan, peered under it, and, after completing this silent inspection of the chamber, returned to the window, loosened the cord from the hook, drew in the rope-ladder, and closed the window.
Princess Ludovicka Hollandine, standing in the middle of the apartment, had watched this singular demeanour on the part of the mysterious intruder with growing astonishment. She had first held out her arms to greet the expected, the longed-for, to press him to her beating heart, but, finding that he came not to embrace her, she had slowly dropped her arms again. She had looked toward him with a tender glance, a fascinating smile, but when he hastened not to her, her glance had grown dark and her smile had vanished; and now, when he did approach her, she assumed an air of distant, proud reserve. He seemed not to see it, and, bending his knee before her, his head being still concealed, he pressed the hem of her garment reverentially to his lips.
"Most beautiful, most condescending of all princesses," he whispered softly, "I sue for pardon, for forgiveness."
The Princess shrank back, and a glowing flush overspread her cheeks. "My
God!" she murmured, "that is not the voice—"
"Not the voice of the one whom your highness desires to see," said the
kneeling figure, concluding her sentence for her. "Yes, most amiable
Princess, your tender, sensitive heart is not deceived. I am not the
Electoral Prince of Brandenburg. I am—"
"Count d'Entragues, the French ambassador," cried the Princess, as the disguised man now threw back the hood of his mantle, and lifted up to her his youthfully handsome, smiling face.
"Scream not, most gracious lady," said he, hastily, "and do not scold me, either; but be merciful and forgive me. I lie here at your feet and entreat for pardon, and will not rise until you have granted it."
The Princess still kept her astonished and inquiring glance fixed upon him, but the sight of this handsome young man, disarmed her wrath.
"Stand up, Count d'Entragues," she said—"stand up and account to me for this daring crime."
"Your highness is right," returned he, "it is a daring crime, and only the extremest necessity could have driven me to this. I shall immediately therefore have the honor of explaining all this to the lovely, bewitching Princess Ludovicka Hollandine."
With youthful agility he arose from his knees, took off his cloak, which he carelessly threw into a corner of the apartment, and presented himself to the Princess in a gold-embroidered velvet suit, richly trimmed with lace and ribbons. Ludovicka fixed her large eyes upon the proud and dazzling apparition of the young count, and the angry flashing of her eyes softened.
"Sir Count," she said, imperiously, "without evasion and without circumlocution explain to me directly the meaning of this!"
"You permit me to do so, then, fairest Princess? You thereby empower me to remain a half hour in your charming presence?"
And while the count thus questioned, he took the hand of the Princess and covered it with kisses. Then, with graceful gallantry and solemn seriousness, as if they had been in the midst of a grand courtly assemblage, he conducted her to the divan. There she seated herself, and he bowed before her with all the formality and obsequiousness of a courtier as he took his place beside her.
"Now your highness desires to know above all things how I can have dared to intrude here at so unusual an hour, and without the shadow of permission," he said with his mellifluous, insinuating voice. "Most gracious Princess, I confess that you are well justified in this curiosity, and I hasten to gratify it. Your grace expected a visitor indeed, but not the tiresome, unbidden Count d'Entragues—not the ambassador and servant of King Louis XIII or Cardinal Richelieu, but you expected an eloquent, handsome young Prince, who loves the Princess Ludovicka Hollandine with passionate enthusiasm, and to whom after long and vain entreaties she has at last granted a rendezvous."
"My God!" said the Princess, with an expression of horror, "how know you that, count?"
"My most gracious Princess, I have a magician in my service, who acquaints me with everything that happens here at court and, above all things, in the palace of the Queen of Bohemia, and first of all in the apartments of the Princess Ludovicka Hollandine."
"And the name of this magician is?"
"Ducato, sweetest Princess, Ducato. Ah! if you knew what dear, precious secrets this magician has imparted to me, how loquaciously he blabs out to me everything that the fairest Princess in the world thinks and does by day and by night! I know, for example, how the lovely Princess stays with her mother with ever so much seriousness, goes with her to church, visits respectfully the Stadtholder of Holland, and fondles and pets the little Princess Louise; how she carries on her studies, plays the lute, paints and sings. But, God be thanked! life consists not entirely of days, but happily has its nights likewise."
"What do you mean by that, Sir Count d'Entragues?"
"I mean," replied the Count, while he smilingly bent over closer to the Princess—"I mean that here at The Hague there is a wonderful, charming combination of young gentlemen and noble young ladies, who have laid themselves out expressly to embellish these nights, and to indemnify themselves for their somber, gloomy days by joyous, merry nights. It is a secret order, into which it is a distinguished honor to be received, and which is shrouded in deepest secrecy. Never would a lady own that she belongs to it, and yet they say that the fairest, most exalted, most virtuous ladies press to be received into this order. It is not known of any of the ladies of the court that they belong to it, but it is suspected of each. No one can say that he has seen this or that one among the noble and virtuous ladies there, for at all the reunions of the members of the order the ladies wear small half-masks, and it is the first and most sacred law of the order that no man dares to lay so much as a finger upon this mask—this precious secret of the ladies. Moreover, they appear only in Grecian robes, so that it is difficult to recognize the beautiful forms of the ladies again in their elaborate court dresses and with their stiff Fontanges. The name of this secret society is Media Nocte, and it is especially an honor to belong to it, for nobody is admitted who has not stood his probation—that is to say, shown that he has acquired considerable proficiency in some art, and excels in it. He, therefore, who can not sing or play on the lute, paint or improvise, speak eloquently, or by some gift contribute to the enjoyment of the company, can never arrive at the distinction of becoming a member of this order. When, therefore, it is whispered of a gentleman that he belongs to the order, he is supposed to be not merely an accomplished gentleman, but an entertaining companion, a favorite of the Muses. If this secret is whispered of a lady, then we look upon her with admiration, rapture, joy for we know that we have before us one of those choice, enchanting, and rare beings, who are exalted above all prejudice; who believe not, with zealots and ascetics, that we live only to die, but who joyfully acknowledge that we live to live, and, therefore, that the noblest, worthiest task proposed is to render this life as pleasant as possible."
"Why do you tell me all this, dear count?" asked the Princess impatiently.
"It is true," replied he, smiling; "why should I tell you what you know already? I tell it to your highness in order to prove to you that I, thanks to my little magician Ducato, know the secret of the Media Nocte; I tell it to you in order now to whisper a secret in your ear: the Princess Ludovicka Hollandine belongs to the society, she is a member of the order of the Media Nocte."
The Princess only with difficulty suppressed a shriek, and stared with horror at the smiling countenance of the young count.
"Hush, gracious lady, hush!" whispered the latter while he took her hand and imprinted a reverential kiss upon the tips of her rosy fingers. "Why should you wish to deny what is so genial and so delightful? My magician Ducato always tells me the truth; why should we dispute it? But it was not that which your highness wished to learn of me. You would ask me, how I know that the Electoral Prince of Brandenburg loves the beautiful Princess Ludovicka Hollandine, and was to have his first rendezvous with her to-day. Once more, it is the magician Ducato who has told me that; yes, that good, obliging magician has done yet more for me. He put into my hands the pretty little note which the Princess Ludovicka sent yesterday through her confidential maid-servant to the confidential valet of the Electoral Prince, before the Prince had read it himself."
"That is shameful—that is unheard of!" said the Princess, with glowing cheeks and tears in her eyes. "It is an abominable piece of deceit on the part of my maid, and she shall pay for it. To-morrow morning I shall dismiss her, and—"
"That she may tell all the world the little secrets of her exalted mistress?" asked Count d'Entragues. "Oh, no, your highness; the maid is perfectly innocent of deceit, and it was only the magician Ducato who played the Princess's pretty little note into my hands. And will my sweetest lady know now what I did with the little note? I read it first, then—saw there that a rendezvous was granted the Prince at one o'clock. I took a very small sharp knife and—"
"And? My God, go on! What did you with the knife?"
"I very delicately erased and altered the number from a one into a two. Then I refolded the note, and handed it to my magician for further preferment to the Prince."
"The Electoral Prince has received my note, then?" asked the Princess. "He will consequently—"
"Come at two o'clock, instead of one o'clock," replied the count, and he intercepted the look which Ludovicka cast upon the large French clock upon the mantelpiece. "Yes, we have just a half hour before the Prince makes his appearance, and I hope that will suffice to obtain your highness's pardon for my boldness, and to establish a good understanding between myself and the most spirituelle, most genial, and most beautiful Princess of all the European courts. Will your highness be kind enough to grant me a hearing?"
The Princess smiled imperceptibly. "The question comes somewhat late," she said. "If you had asked it while you stood there on the windowsill, before you came into my room, then I should have replied: 'No, be off! No, you are a shameless person, who has dared to spy out my secrets, to bribe my servants, and to deceive me, while he approaches me in a way that he knew perfectly was not open to him.' But you are here now; alas! I have not the power to expel you, and to punish you before all the world as you deserve."
"O Princess! as if your harsh and cruel words were not a punishment, which touches my heart more sensibly than the cut of a sword or thrust of a dagger!"
The Princess seemed not to have heard these words of the count, spoken with artistic effect, and continued: "You are here now, and I will at least know what inspired you to run this unheard-of risk of forcing yourself upon my notice. I am therefore ready to listen to you, on condition that you try to be short and not burden me too long with your presence."
"Permit me to thank you, most condescending Princess," cried the count, while he sank from the ottoman down upon his knees, and pressed his glowing lips upon the hem of the Princess's robe. "I thank you, and swear that I will not overstep the limit prescribed, and depart at two with the first stroke of the clock."
"Rise, count, rise and speak," said Ludovicka, in commanding tones, and with the full dignity of a Princess.
Count d'Entragues again resumed his seat upon the divan. "Your highness commands now that I explain how I could have dared to come here?"
"I confess that I am very anxious to hear this explanation."
"Well, then, your highness is young, very young indeed, hardly eighteen years old, but you possess, in addition to a soft and tender heart, an almost masculine intellect. I apprehend from this that you interest yourself in politics."
"There you are entirely mistaken, count. I hate, I abhor politics, and when my mother proposes to talk politics with me I always run away."
"That is bad, very bad, your highness; for I am forced to talk politics to you. But I shall not be tedious, but limit myself to what is absolutely necessary. I shall therefore begin, in order to give your highness a proof of my reverential, unlimited confidence, by telling you what no one here knows—by telling you why I have been sent here and what my errand is. Princess, I have been ostensibly sent here to the Stadtholder of Orange and as ambassador from the King of France to the Sovereign States. In reality, I have been sent to two entirely different persons—to the Electoral Prince of Brandenburg and to the Princess Ludovicka Hollandine."
"To me?" asked the Princess, and her beautiful face expressed the most undisguised astonishment.
"Yes, to yourself, most gracious Princess. And does your highness know why? Because our spies here, as well as the gentlemen of the French embassy to Holland, had reported that the Electoral Prince of Brandenburg was smitten with the most glowing love for your highness."
The Princess blushed with pleasure, and a wondrous smile lit up her radiant countenance. "But," asked she, "how does it concern the court of France whom the Electoral Prince of Brandenburg loves?"
"It concerns the court of France very nearly, your highness. I can not avoid now burdening your highness a little with hated politics, while I explain to you how it comes that the love of the Electoral Prince of Brandenburg is a state affair for the European courts. It comes from this, your highness, because the Electoral Prince, however small and insignificant his house, however inconsiderable, too, his future realm of Brandenburg, is still a very important personage. Three crowns are hovering in the air above his head, and if he obtains all three he will be a mighty Prince, and his sword may turn the scale in the balance of peace and war."
"What three crowns are those which hover thus above the Prince's head?"
"There is first the crown of the dukedom of Prussia, with which the King of Poland has to invest the Electoral Prince of Brandenburg, and which the Elector of Saxony would be too glad to see fall upon his own head. Then, in the second place, there is the crown of the duchy of Pomerania, which belongs to the house of Brandenburg by right of inheritance, and which the Swedes are struggling for; and finally, in the third place, there is the crown of the duchy of Cleves, Juliers, and Berg, which the Emperor of Germany has indeed adjudged to that house, but which is so torn by Hessians and Spaniards, by the States, by the Swedes and various robbers, that probably hardly anything at all of it will be left. But nevertheless, there it is, and if the future Elector of Brandenburg actually succeeds in uniting upon his own head these three crowns, besides the electoral hat of Brandenburg, then he will be mighty and influential, and have a full sounding voice in the concert of the European princes. But now you must know that the Elector of Brandenburg is sickly, and has not many more years to live. Then the Electoral Prince Frederick William becomes his successor, and it is only needful to have seen the Prince for a few hours, to have looked into his fiery eyes, to be made aware that he will not tread in his father's footsteps, that he will not be the submissive vassal of the German Emperor, a mere tool in the hands of his minister, but that his efforts will be directed to making himself a free, independent Prince, and his country a strong, powerful, and self-sustaining state. The Minister von Schwarzenberg, the almighty representative of the present Elector, knows this very well, and on this account dreads and hates the Electoral Prince; he has therefore removed him from his father's court in order to take away all influence from him, and he would esteem himself happy if some lucky accident or criminal hand should free him from this inconvenient successor to the throne. But heretofore accident has not favored him; nor has he yet dared to press the murderous hand into his service; and he has therefore been compelled to devise some other method for securing his future, and so enchaining the Electoral Prince that he, too, may remain the Emperor's obedient vassal. As the best means for attaining this object it has occurred to them to bind the Electoral Prince to the German imperial house by marriage, and to receive him into the Hapsburg family. The Archduke Leopold, the future Emperor, has a very pretty daughter. She is intellectual, ardent, a strict Catholic, and has at heart the greatness of the Hapsburg house and the German Emperor. This princess, or rather archduchess, has been selected for the Electoral Prince of Brandenburg, and on that account the Electoral Prince is now to return home, for the Elector and his Minister Schwarzenberg are much bent upon the imperial alliance, and have already promised that the Electoral Prince shall make a visit to the imperial court. But, excuse me, I am misusing your indulgence, Princess. I am holding forth to you a long-winded political harangue, forgetting entirely how you hate politics, what a heinous crime I am committing, and that I weary you."
"You do not weary me at all," replied Ludovicka quickly. "On the contrary, you interest me greatly. Only go on. I am listening attentively. You said that the Electoral Prince was to return home in order to make a visit to the imperial court, and to marry an archduchess of Austria?"
"Pardon me, your highness. I only said this was the new plan of the imperial court, and consequently of the Minister Schwarzenberg and his Elector. And, indeed, the plan is good, for the son-in-law of the Emperor would be wholly dependent upon Austria, and if then the three pending crowns should settle upon his brow, it would be the same as if Austria herself wore them. Then they would cause the young married couple to make an agreement respecting claims of inheritance, in accordance with which the survivor should become heir to the first deceased. Then, some day, the Electoral Prince, or the young Elector, would have the misfortune to fall from his horse, or be pierced while hunting by some missent bullet, or fall a victim to a sudden problematical sickness; in short, he would die, and his wife would be his heiress, and through her the Electoral Mark Brandenburg, the duchies of Prussia, Pomerania, and Cleves, accrue to the imperial house. This would be then to put an end to the long, fearful war, to make peace with Sweden by relinquishing Pomerania to her, and, in order to see this war finally ended, which has desolated the whole of Germany, the other German powers would acquiesce in Pomerania becoming Swedish, and Cleves, Brandenburg, and Prussia Hapsburgian."
"Sir Count!" cried the Princess, "now you become tiresome, for you have digressed from your subject!"
"From the Electoral Prince? Oh, no; I have already come to him again, fairest Princess! I said all Germany would consent to this marriage. Poland, too, would rather invest the Catholic imperial house with the Prussian crown than the reformed Elector, and prefer an Austrian neighbor as friend to a Russian; only two European powers would look askance upon this union, and consequently do all they possibly could to prevent its consummation."
"And who are these two powers, Sir Count?"
"One power is France, who would never consent to so striking an aggrandizement of the house of Austria, and can not passively submit to see it spread itself so extensively north, west, and east."
"And the second power, count?"
"The second power is the Princess Ludovicka Hollandine of the Palatinate, who would never give up the handsome Electoral Prince, and would snatch at any means of preventing his marriage with any one else. Will you condescend to acknowledge that I have told the truth?"
"Yes!" cried the Princess passionately—"yes, you have told the truth! I love him, and the only happiness upon earth for me is in becoming his wife!"
"Princess, I presume to make a proposal to you. Let the two powers that wish not the marriage with an Austrian archduchess conclude together a league offensive and defensive. The power France accedes to this with joy. It promises to further and support the second power in all her plans, to lend her efficient aid, that the Princess Ludovicka Hollandine may wed the Electoral Prince of Brandenburg."
"Oh, heavens, count, you would do that, you—"
"France will do that, not I," said the count passionately. "No, not I, Princess, for you know well that I was rash enough to lift my eyes to your heavenly apparition, my heart—But hush, you poor, foolish heart, suffer and be dumb, sacrifice yourself, and only busy yourself in making happy the sweet object of your warm and glowing love! Princess, you love the Electoral Prince! France offers you her assistance that you may marry him. This marriage will throw the Elector as well as the German Emperor into the greatest rage; they will both refuse their consent; they will require Holland to deliver up the Electoral Prince; they will proclaim invalid the marriage between two minor lovers, and will cut off the Electoral Prince from all means of subsistence."
"Oh, that is shocking, you give me a glimpse of a background which fills me with dread and horror," lamented the Princess.
"Fear nothing, dread nothing," whispered the count. "France is here to support you. France offers the young couple an asylum in Paris, and will receive them at her court with pleasure. France will take care that the Electoral Prince and his wife want for nothing; she will pay him rich subsidies, contribute vast sums of money that the Electoral Prince may present his young bride with a costly outfit; and finally, in the name of her mother, the Electress of the Palatinate, provide the Princess with a truly princely income."
"How kind, how generous that is of France!" cried Ludovicka. "It will promote my happiness, it will aid me in being united with my beloved; it thereby pledges me to eternal gratitude, and never shall I forget that I owe to France the happiness of my whole life."
"And that, adored Princess, that is the only thing that France claims for its good offices—a little gratitude! A faithful remembrance of its good offices rendered, the sure promise that the Elector Frederick William of Brandenburg will never range himself on the side of the enemies of France, never league himself with the house of Austria against France, but forever remain the faithful ally and friend of France!"
"I promise you that—I give you my solemn word for it! Oh, we are no ingrates, to reward you with ingratitude; be sure and certain of that. The Electoral Prince loves me; he will bid all welcome that makes a union with me possible; he will be eternally grateful to those who will lend us a helping hand."
"And—forgive me, your highness, for asking one question—has he offered you his hand; has he made you a formal proposal of marriage?"
"He has sworn a thousand times that he loves me; he has so long and so often besought me to grant him an interview that I have at last done so—all the rest follows."
"Now," said the count, with a meaning smile, "that is just as one may take it. In any case, this interview will be useful and to the purpose, and your highness must now bring the Prince to declare himself formally."
"My heavens!" cried the Princess impatiently, "I tell you that he has very often declared himself, that he has sworn to me a thousand times that of all the world he loves me, and me alone! What more would you have him say?"
"Princess, you are an angel of innocence and maidenly simplicity. When I say the Prince must declare himself, I mean by that that he must sue for your hand; he must say to you in so many words that he wishes to marry you."
"Good! he shall do so, even to-day. Oh, sir, it pleases you to doubt the love of the Electoral Prince? You dare to think it possible that he may be only amusing himself with me—that he has no serious designs? I shall prove to you that you are mistaken—that you wrong me and the Electoral Prince alike by your doubt. This very night he shall offer me his hand—this very night I shall engage myself to him!"
"And to-morrow night the nuptials must take place!" cried the count.
The Princess shrank back and a glowing blush overspread her cheeks. "So soon—to-morrow night?" she murmured. "My God! this haste—"
"Is necessary, if the marriage is ever to take place at all, Princess. There is a common but very wise proverb which says, 'Strike while the iron is hot.' Strike, Princess, strike, for I tell you what does not happen to-morrow night will be utterly impossible the day after. We have fortunately our secret agents everywhere, as well here as at the courts of Berlin and Königsberg, and we therefore know that both Count Schwarzenberg and the Elector have sent their messengers here to induce the Electoral Prince to a speedy departure, and to threaten him with his father's wrath in case he should allow himself to marry the Princess Ludovicka Hollandine."
"But that is abominable!" cried the Princess, with tears in her eyes. "One of these messengers," continued the count, "and indeed the messenger of Count Schwarzenberg, as I suspect, has already arrived this evening, and the Electoral Prince has already received him. The other will probably come to-morrow, and if you then still delay, if you do not surprise the Prince in the first storm of his indignation, and thereby lead him to bind himself to you by a secret marriage, then all is lost, and the two powers Hollandine and France are conquered by Brandenburg and Austria."
"That shall not be!" cried the Princess, jumping up, and with hasty steps moving to and fro. "No, we are not to be conquered! They shall not tear my beloved from me!"
"Well, Princess, if you are firmly resolved, then I beg as a favor to be allowed to be of service to you."
"Yes, help me—advise me."
"I have counted upon your love and your energy, Princess, and therefore have already drawn up a stated plan. Will you hear it?"
"Not merely hear, but execute it, too, if it is at all practicable," cried Ludovicka, while she remained standing in the center of the room, and turned her large, flaming eyes upon the count, who had likewise arisen and advanced smilingly toward her.
"Well, then, Princess, the plan is short and simple. The Prince makes you to-night his offer of marriage."
"Yes, this very night," said she, proudly.
"He swears that he will marry you as soon as possible."
"Oh, you may be sure of that; he will swear it to me."
"Own to him that you have friends on whose aid and assistance you can count, but let him not suspect who these friends are. Then lead the conversation to the Media Nocte—But, my heavens!" exclaimed the count, interrupting himself, while he looked as if accidentally at the clock, "it only wants now a few minutes of two o'clock, and the Electoral Prince will certainly come punctually, and therefore will be here directly. I have written out all that it is necessary that you will have the complaisance to do between this and to-morrow. Read it over at your leisure, and impress it rightly upon your mind. Here is the paper, and may my writing find a hearing and favor! If such be the case, as I hope and desire, then will your highness have the goodness to open your window a little at ten o'clock and display from it an orange-colored ribbon. All the rest will take care of itself, and what your highness has to do is on the paper. I hasten to withdraw, that your highness may have time to read my writing."
"But if the Prince should come now?" asked Ludovicka anxiously—"if he should see a man descending from my window?"
"You are right, Princess; that is to be dreaded; and I, too, have considered that. I will not leave through the window."
"Not through the window? But in what other way would you—"
"Go away, would you say? By yonder door! I know perfectly well that it leads into the Princess's private apartment, and thence into the antechamber. Oh, I know the Castle Doornward well, for is it not the residence of the Electress of the Palatinate and her fair daughter the Princess? Therefore I have had drawn out for myself an exact plan of it. Moreover, your waiting maid Alice awaits me in the antechamber. Forgive her for not having been able to withstand the persuasions of her compatriot, the magician Ducato. Alice will permit me to slip out of the castle by a back door. And now, adored Princess and exalted Electress of the future, permit your most faithful and devoted servant ere he depart once more to press your beloved hand to his lips, and to tell you how inexpressibly happy—and, alas! how inexpressibly wretched—it makes him that he can and—must assist in marrying the Princess Ludovicka to the Electoral Prince."
With a bewitching smile the Princess held out her hand to him. "Count d'Entragues," she said, "I shall be eternally grateful to you for your self-sacrifice and good faith. I shall esteem myself happy if some day I may find an opportunity of proving this to you. Farewell!"
He pressed a long, glowing kiss upon her hand. "Farewell!" he said. "When
I see you again, Princess, I shall accompany you to the altar, and must
witness the transformation of the Princess Ludovicka into an Electoral
Princess of Brandenburg, and in my heart will be prayers, but also tears!
Farewell!"
He sprang up, crossed the room with light, quick steps, unbolted the door, and vanished behind the curtain. The Princess watched him until he had disappeared, and, after she had convinced herself that he was actually gone, and had bolted the door again, she took out the paper and read over its contents slowly and with most serious attention.
As she read, brighter and brighter became her face, constantly more radiant the smile upon her rosy lips. "Yes," she cried, after she had twice read it through, "that will do—it shall be so! To-morrow in the Media Nocte I will—"
A loud shrill whistle sounded. "He comes!" whispered she, "he comes!"
With trembling hands she thrust the paper into a casket belonging to her writing table, and hurried to the window to open it and lower the rope ladder.
At this moment the whistle rang forth for the second time, its tones following one another in quick succession.
"It is he—it is my beloved," murmured Ludovicka, and with a happy smile she listened out into the night.