VIII.—THE FLIGHT.
How dreary and desolate was the day which Count Adolphus now passed in the palace—how the hours lengthened into days, and the minutes into hours! How glad were they when twilight at last drew near, what sighs of relief they breathed when night at last set in!
A dark, silent night. The sky was obscured by clouds, not a star was to be seen. A night well fitted for enveloping fugitives in her friendly mantle, and concealing them beneath her gloomy shades. Away now, away! Night is here! Freedom beckons! The spacious palace was to-day nothing but a close, oppressive prison. Nothing did Count Adolphus hear but the walking to and fro of the sentinels and the corporal's call to relieve guard. Nothing did he see, when he went to the window, but soldiers slowly pacing their round before the park railing.
Away from this prison, whose splendor and luxury seemed like sheer mockery, away from this house teeming with bitter memories of past grandeur and glory!
Night was here, the night of deliverance. Away, away!
They wrapped their cloaks about them, drew their hats low over their foreheads, and entered the subterranean passage. Waldow lead the way, a burning taper in one hand, a pistol in the other. Count Adolphus Schwarzenberg followed him, a pistol in either hand, firmly determined to shoot down whoever might dare to oppose his progress.
The passage was traversed, and safely the two emerged into the open air in the park pavilion. Now forward quickly, down the dark alley to the lower garden gate. The key was in his pocket, there was nothing to obstruct their flight.
One moment they paused within the half-opened gateway and listened. Nothing moved in the street without. All life seemed already extinct, all the inhabitants of the wretched houses had retired to rest. Not a light glimmered through the windows. All was hushed and still. They pushed open the gate and stepped out upon the street. They looked up and down; nowhere did they see a sign of movement, nowhere a human form, nor anywhere hear a rustling sound. Forward now, forward up the street, around the corner of the park, across the cathedral square.
The night was quite dark, and the two fugitives looked ever ahead, not once behind them. They did not see that another shadow followed their black shadows, nor that a second shadow glided across the cathedral square to the Electoral castle.
To that castle, too, were Count Schwarzenberg's eyes directed. There it loomed up, veiled in mystery and gloom, its dim outlines barely distinguishable from the mass of overhanging clouds in the background. In the lower story, where was situated the guardroom, burned a bright light, shining like a clear, yellow star, and irradiating the darkness of the night.
Count Adolphus saw it, and also saw the light suddenly eclipsed by a shadow; then flame forth again. He saw the shadow, but did not suspect that it bore any relationship to his person or movements. He only continued to look toward the castle, and to think of the past, taking farewell of his memories, farewell of the dreams of his youth! He thought of the insult put upon him that dreadful night when he had been mocked and deceived by her whom he loved, and he vowed vengeance for the tortures endured by him that night!
"Forward, Waldow, forward!" He took his friend's arm, and they pressed on. The shadow behind them advanced when they advanced and stopped when they stood still. Through the pleasure garden the pair proceeded with hurried steps, through the gate at the castle moat they entered upon the Willow-bank suburb, then down the deserted little streets of wretched huts. They reached the great Willow-bank meadow without the walls, passing through a gate not far from the bridge over the Spree.
"Wallenrodt, are you here?" whispered Schwarzenberg.
"Yes, count, I am here."
The tramp of horse's hoofs, the voices of men speaking in whispers.
"Colonel von Rochow expects your grace. The whole fortress is at your service. He will defend you to the last man, and would rather blow the whole fortress into the air than surrender you to the enemy."
"Yes, better be blown up by gunpowder, than fall into an enemy's hands!" cries the count, vaulting with glad heart into the saddle.
"Are you ready, my friends?"
"Yes, we are ready."
The count gave the word of command, "Forward!" and grasped tighter his horse's reins.
"Halt! halt!" called a loud voice, and the shadow which had crept behind them now changed into the form of a tall and powerful man, who sprang through the gate and seized the count's horse by the bridle.
"Back!" shouted Adolphus Schwarzenberg furiously.
"Halt! halt!" cried the other. "You shall not escape. In the name of
Colonel von Burgsdorf I arrest you, Count John Adolphus von
Schwarzenberg."
"Who are you, poor man, who are you who dares to oppose me?"
"I am the police master Brandt. I arrest you in the name of the Stadtholder in the Mark!"
"Wretched traitor! You swore fidelity to my father, and have now become the tool of his enemies. Hands off! It will cost you your life! Back!"
"No, I will not leave you, I arrest you. You must stay here!"
"Let us make an end of this, count," shouted von Waldow "The night is so pitch-dark that we can not distinguish friend from foe, else I would have shot him long ago."
"For the last time, hands off my horse, or I shall shoot you."
"For the last time. Yield peaceably, or I shall shoot you. Living or dead
I must keep you, I have—"
A flash, the report of a pistol, a death groan interrupted the police master's words. The three horsemen bounded forward into the night. Forward at breakneck speed, but for the sand, that dreadful sand. This is the Rehberg, they know it by the sand in which the horses sink, from which they extricate themselves only to sink again. Yet what matters it if they do make rather slow progress? They will surely reach Spandow before daybreak, and Colonel von Burgsdorf will be cheated out of his precious prisoners.
What is that? What strange sound does the night wind bear to the three riders? Simultaneously all three turn in their saddles and listen.
They hear it quite plainly. It is the noise made by trotting horses. It comes on—it comes nearer.
"Wallenrodt, Waldow! We are pursued!"
"Yes, count, but we have the Rehberg almost behind us, and they must go through it. We have a good start. They will not overtake us."
"Forward, my friends, forward!"
They put spurs to their horses, they press their knees into their flanks, and the animals struggle faster through the sand. In spite of every hindrance they have now reached firmer ground and bound bravely forward. But the noise behind them has not ceased, not even become more remote. They must have good steeds, those pursuers, for they seem to come nearer and nearer.
"Friends, better die than fall into the hands of the enemy!" shouts the count. "I tell you the very moment Burgsdorf touches me I shall shoot myself. Greet my friends for me. Bid them farewell forever!"
"You will not shoot yourself, count, for the enemy will not overtake us.
Forward! Put spur to your horses. Heigh! Huzza! Forward!"
They rush through the darkness!
Clouds dark and threatening course swiftly through the sky, horsemen dark and threatening course swiftly over the earth.
"Waldow! they come nearer! But we have still the start of them!"
"Only see, count! That dark mass there against the sky. That is our goal.
Just one quarter of an hour and we shall be safe in Spandow."
"One quarter of an hour! An eternity! Heigh! Huzza! On! on!"
"Halt!" is heard behind them. "Halt! in the name of the Elector, in the name of the law! Halt! halt!"
"That is Burgsdorf's voice!" cries Count Schwarzenberg, and spurs his horse with such violence that it rears and then shoots forward, swift as an arrow from a bow. But the pursuers, too, dash forward, as if borne upon the wings of the wind, and the distance between them constantly grows less. Already they hear the horses pant; ever clearer, ever more distinct become the passionate outcries of Colonel Burgsdorf.
He swears, he threatens, he rages! He orders the fugitives to halt, and swears to shoot them if they do not.
What care they for threats or orders? Forward! forward! Behind them sounds a shot—a second, then a third! The balls whistle past their ears, and they laugh aloud, to prove to the enemy that they are still alive.
Before them flash lights, like golden stars, like bonfires of rejoicing.
"Count, those are the lights of Spandow! Just see those torches there! The commandant is waiting for you at the entrance to the fort with his torchbearers."
"On! on!" shout the three, and they race onward at lightning speed. And at lightning speed the pursuers follow. Nearer they come, ever nearer.
"I have them! I have caught them!" exults Burgsdorf, springing forward and stretching out his hands toward the fugitives, for it seems to him as if he can indeed lay his hand upon them. "Halt! halt! in the name of the Elector!"
"Forward! forward! What care we for the Elector? What care we for
Burgsdorf? Forward!"
The lights increase in size and brilliancy. Now they distinguish torches and the figures of men.
"Are you there, count?" calls down Colonel von Rochow from the wall.
"It is I, colonel!"
The gate is open, they gallop in!
Over the wooden bridge gallop the pursuers after them. Now they are at the gate. But the gate slams to with thundering sound. The pursuers are left without.
"Undo the bolts, Colonel von Rochow! I command you, undo the bolts!"
"Who is it that dares to command me?" calls down Colonel von Rochow from the fortification walls.
"I command you! I, the commandant in chief of all the fortresses in the
Mark!"
"I know no commandant in chief, and trouble myself about no such person. I am commandant of Spandow, and have sworn to serve the Emperor, and him alone."
"Colonel von Rochow, in the name of the Elector and in the name of the
Stadtholder in the Mark, I command you for the last time to open the gate!"
"The Elector is not my master to command me, and as to the Stadtholder in the Mark, here he is at my side. Only Count Adolphus Schwarzenberg do I recognize as such, and he forbids my opening the gate. Go back quietly to Berlin, colonel, for the night is cold, and your ride will warm you."
"And I must pocket this insult," muttered old Burgsdorf, gnashing his teeth. "I can do nothing but turn around and go back with shame!" Almost tearfully he gave his men the order to face about and return to Berlin.
In the castle within, Count John Adolphus cordially offered his hand to
Commandant von Rochow.
"Colonel, you have saved my life by furnishing me a refuge. I would have shot myself if Burgsdorf had overtaken me. I shall commend you to the Emperor's Majesty for this friendly service."
IX.—THE LETTER.
"Well, here you are at last," exclaimed Elector Frederick William, holding out his hand to Baron Leuchtmar von Kalkhun. "You have at last returned from your difficult journey."
"Yes, gracious sir, you may well call it a difficult journey. Four long months of endless debate, wrangling, and dispute with those arrogant Swedish lords, who were ever ready to take but never to give. Such was my experience day by day for four long months."
"Yes, you are right," said the Elector thoughtfully. "Four months have indeed elapsed since you set out upon your journey and I undertook the duties of ruler. My God! it seems to me as if many years had rolled by since then, and as if I had become an old, old man! I do not believe I have laughed once during these four months, or enjoyed one quarter of an hour of pleasure or relaxation. Discord and discussion everywhere with Emperor and empire, with the States, with Poland, Juliers and Cleves. They are all my foes, and not one single hand is held out to me in friendship. I have felt at times right lonely, Leuchtmar, and sorely sighed for you. It could not be, though, and I have learned already to submit to necessity. Necessity alone is the despotic mistress of all princes, and we nothing but her humble vassals. It is a humiliating thought, but nevertheless true. I must learn to endure mortifications, and to consider them but the price which I pay for my future."
"It grieves me to perceive that your highness is somewhat downcast and discouraged," sighed Leuchtmar, looking sadly at the Elector's pale, sober countenance, upon which the last four months had indeed left the imprint of years.
"Downcast? Yes," cried Frederick William; "for my affairs progress but slowly, and to gain anything I am compelled on all sides to make unpleasant concessions and to submit to irksome restraints. But discouraged—no, Leuchtmar, I am not discouraged, and by God's help never shall be! I know my purpose, which I shall pursue with immovable steadfastness, and, although the results of these first four months of government are barely discernible, I comfort myself that in as many years I shall have accomplished much. It is strange, Leuchtmar, that you have returned to-day, the very day which brings home my Polish ambassador with the tidings that the King of Poland is ready solemnly to invest me with the dukedom of Prussia, thanks to our money and our fair speeches. This very day I also expect decisive news from Colonel von Burgsdorf at Berlin. On the self-same day I sent you forth. You were like doves sent from a storm-tossed ark to seek for land. Almost at the same time you return to the ark, but I fear that none of you brings with him an olive branch."
"Yet, most noble sir, I do bring you a small olive leaf," replied Leuchtmar, with a gentle smile. "I come to announce to your grace that I have at last succeeded, after a four months' contest, in wringing from the Swedish lords a few concessions, and concluding an armistice, which is to be binding for two years."
"A two years' cessation of hostilities is equivalent to ten years of refreshment, of reinvigoration!" cried the Elector with radiant looks. "Tell me, Leuchtmar, what concessions did these hard-headed Swedes make at the last moment?"
"Your highness, they have pledged themselves not to allow their soldiery to enter the Mark, unless unavoidably compelled to march through on their way elsewhere, and that then they shall be quartered and fed only under the direction of an Electoral commissary; and that, moreover, separate agreements shall be entered into with regard to the maintenance of the Swedish garrisons of forts in Pomerania and the Mark." [49]
"Yes," murmured the Elector, with dejected mien, "so low are we reduced that if they even acknowledge our natural rights, it strikes us in the light of a concession, a grant, and we must esteem ourselves happy in having obtained it! Ah! Leuchtmar, when will the time come when I can take my revenge for these humiliations, the time when they will bow to me, and when it will be for me to concede and grant favors? Hush, ambitious heart, be soft and still! Go on, tell me what further settlements you concluded with the Swedes."
"Gracious sir, I have no other concessions to mention, except that something has been done for the protection of our mutual traffic by sea and land. But that is as much to the advantage of the Swedes as of ourselves. The demands of the Swedes are truly far greater than their concessions!"
"What do they demand?"
"They demand in advance that they be left in undisturbed possession of the fortresses they are now masters of."
"I have not the power to take them by force of arms!" cried the Elector, shrugging his shoulders. "Let them keep what I can not force from them! What else?"
"They demand, besides, that the Werben fortress be delivered up to them."
"I will not deliver it up to them!" cried the Elector; "but I will have it destroyed, that it be not seized by the Imperialists. What else?"
"The Swedes further desire that the Küstrin Pass be closed to imperial troops."
"To that I willingly consent, for it is in accordance with my own
interests," said Frederick William, smiling. "By Küstrin is the road to
Stettin, and it is important for us, too, that this way be closed to the
Imperialists. Methinks a time will come when it shall be closed to the
Swedes as well, and once closed, I shall not open it again. What else?"
"The Swedes crave the privilege of having a resident at Küstrin, who shall attend to carrying out this article."
"That I shall never consent to!" cried the Elector passionately. "No, that can not be, for such a permission would involve degradation, and the concessions which I am willing to make for the welfare of my torn and bleeding land need not go to the extent of degradation. I must have an armistice, that my subjects may recover from the effects of these bloody, trying times, and gather strength for renewed existence. I must have an armistice, in order to gain time for the re-establishment of law and order. But there need be no armistice tending to dishonor me, and place me under Swedish surveillance in the midst of my own land. No, no Swedish spy, no resident at Küstrin—that is the condition of my agreeing to the armistice. All else I acquiesce in."
"And I hope to prevail upon the Swedish lords to recede from this claim yet," said Leuchtmar. "Rest is very essential to them also just at this time, for they have enough to do to contend with the Imperialists, and the Danes are threatening them with war. They will not desire to be embroiled with Brandenburg at the same time. I will guarantee the conclusion of the armistice, and, if it meets your highness's approbation, will travel again to Sweden to effect this alteration and then bring the articles to your highness for your signature."
"So be it, dear Leuchtmar. Return to Stockholm. Strike the iron while it is hot. Much I hope from this armistice. It will make the lords of Warsaw, Regensburg, and Vienna more pliant and yielding, for it will show them that the Elector of Brandenburg is no longer drifting helplessly about in a leaky boat, but that he has succeeded at least in stopping one hole and keeping himself above water! And now, friend Leuchtmar, how fared you in your secret mission? Did you hand my letter to the young Queen?"
"Yes, your highness; I even had the opportunity of delivering it to her in a private audience without witnesses."
"And did she accept it in a kind and friendly manner?"
"Gracious sir," replied Leuchtmar, smiling, "a queen of fourteen years of age is very sensitive with regard to her dignity, and takes it very ill if she is not treated with due reverence and extreme devotion."
"Was my missive wanting in these respects?" asked Frederick William.
"I beg your highness's pardon, but the young Queen seemed to be rather of this opinion. She was visibly delighted when I handed her your letter, and especially delighted that she received it secretly, without witnesses, and not in the presence of Chancellor Oxenstiern, whose guardianship seems to be very irksome and unpleasant to her. The young Queen blushed, sir, when she took your letter, and I must confess that at this moment she looked pretty and graceful enough to be the wife of my gracious master. But her countenance soon became clouded, as she read your communication, whose contents seemed to afford her little satisfaction."
"But she answered my letter, did she not, and you bring me her reply?"
"Oh, yes, most gracious sir, she answered it, and I have with me Queen Christina's reply. But I must beforehand make your grace an apology for this answer."
"Well, let me see it, Leuchtmar. Give me the answer."
Leuchtmar drew a folded paper from his pocket, and handed it to the Elector, who unfolded it. A number of torn bits of paper fell to the floor.
"What is that, Leuchtmar?" asked the Elector in amazement.
"Your highness," replied Leuchtmar, "that is Queen Christina's answer."
The Elector picked up a few of the larger scraps of paper, and examined them attentively. "It seems to me, Leuchtmar," he said, "that I recognize specimens of my own penmanship. Yes, yes, it is my writing!"
"Yes, indeed, your highness, it is your own writing. It is your letter to
Queen Christina of Sweden."
"She sends it back to me torn?"
"She tore it with her own exalted hands, trampled it under her royal feet, and literally wept for rage."
"My heavens! what have I done to enrage her little Majesty so?"
"In the first place, noble sir, you wrote to the Queen in German instead of Latin, and she found that very wanting in respect, and thought you might have given yourself the trouble to write to her in the language most agreeable to her.[50] In the second place, you addressed the young Queen as 'Your highness,' when she is entitled to be called 'Most serene highness.' She is certain of that, for Oxenstiern had told her that he gained the title for her as an especial prerogative for her from your father and the house of Brandenburg. And in the third place, the Queen was annoyed that your writing was so cold and serious, and contained so few love words. 'If the Elector had nothing more to say to me than is contained in this letter,' cried the Queen, 'he need not have troubled himself to send it privately. This is a political document, which might have been handed by his envoy to the assembled States, and read aloud in public. But, if I do run the risk of receiving and reading a letter secretly, contrary to the high chancellor's wishes, let it at least be a love letter. I merely gave you audience because I was curious to get a love letter at last, and to know how such feelings are expressed. This is no love letter, though, and to such a note I have no other answer than this.' And then the Queen tore the letter into little bits and scattered them on the floor. I gathered up the pieces, in which she aided me assiduously, lest Chancellor Oxenstiern, whom she momentarily expected, might notice something peculiar, and suspect that she had received a secret missive. I asked her most serene highness if I should bring your grace these torn bits of paper as her answer. She replied with a bewitching smile that I must do so. Her cousin Frederick William might thereby learn to write her a better letter, when she would give him a better answer. This, gracious sir, is the story of the letter you intrusted to me for Queen Christina of Sweden."
The Elector laughed aloud. "A charming story!" he cried, "for which I must thank my young relative, for she has lighted my somber existence by a ray of sunshine. It pleases me that my cousin is so forward, and thereby candid. The little maid of fourteen sighs for a love letter, and hopes that her cousin Frederick William, who sues for her hand, will write her one, and is so innocent as to suppose that he woos her because he loves her. Poor child, disappointed in her curiosity and her wish to know herself beloved! Yes, yes, it is the perpetual longing of the young heart to be loved, and when the first love letter is received, the foolish young creature fancies itself the happiest being upon earth, and feels itself transported into the blessedness of paradise. Alas! they know not that all this is only an illusion, a sweet morning dream from which they will speedily be roused by rude, ungentle hands. Leuchtmar, I can not gratify the little Queen of Sweden in her wish; I can write her no love letter, for I would be guilty of deceiving this young heart. No, I can utter no tender protestations, while my heart is still bleeding from inflicted wounds. But a cordial, friendly letter I will write to my dear cousin. I will write to her in faultless Latin, and couch it in most reverential terms. Who knows, perhaps I may yet win her heart, and she heal mine! I will write the letter, and you shall secretly transmit it to Queen Christina. I will so express it that it shall not seem to her fitted to be read before the assembled States, even though it be no love letter. Go now, Leuchtmar, and rest after the fatigues of your journey. But to-morrow evening, when business is ended, come to me in my cabinet, and let us read a couple of Horace's odes for my strength and encouragement, as we used to do when I was still a free young man and not the Elector, the slave of position."
He offered the baron his hand, and affectionately conducted him to the door himself. Just at this moment that door was quickly opened, and a page appeared.
"Your Electoral Highness," was his announcement, "the imperial envoy, Count Martinitz, craves an audience for himself, a special messenger from the Emperor, and his attendant."
"Admit his Majesty's envoys," replied Frederick William, as he again crossed the room and seated himself in the armchair before his writing table.
X.—A SECRET AUDIENCE.
The three persons announced entered the Electoral cabinet. First came Count Martinitz with important air, dressed in the richly embroidered costume of a Spanish courtier, followed by an old man of venerable aspect and the bearing of a scholar, clad in a suit of black velvet, and by a young lord in a magnificent court dress. The Elector sprang up on beholding the latter, and a flush of indignation suffused his countenance.
"Count Martinitz," he asked hastily, "whom do you bring to me?"
"Your highness," replied. Martinitz, with firm, composed voice—"your highness, I beg to be allowed to present these two lords to you. This is Dr. Gebhard, a very learned and wise man, the Emperor Ferdinand's cabinet and privy counselor, sent by his Majesty to your highness, charged with a confidential and secret errand. Permit me now to present to your highness, this other gentleman."
"I know him!" cried the Elector, with flashing eyes and angry mien. "I am only too well acquainted with Count Adolphus Schwarzenberg and all the plots and intrigues concocted by him in Berlin, and his efforts to lead my officers into insubordination and revolt. But when I ordered investigations to be made into these matters, and the count should have justified his actions, the boastful lord showed himself to be but a cowardly deserter!"
"Your highness!" exclaimed the count coming forward with long strides, and touching the hilt of the dress-sword hanging at his side—"your highness, I have come to justify myself against the calumnies of my enemies. Will you be pleased to hear me patiently, and not impugn my honor as a gentleman and a count of the empire before you have listened to my justification?"
"You would justify yourself! Do you dare to attempt this?" asked the Elector indignantly. "Look, here on my table lies the paper which the States of the Mark have addressed to me, and in which they accuse you. The Emperor's Majesty has sent me a scholar, who can certainly read it aright, if I perchance have made some mistake. Read, if you please, Dr. Gebhard, read these lines, and hear what the States write to me!"
He handed the imperial legate the document and pointed out with his finger the passage in point.
Dr. Gebhard read: "Count John Adolphus Schwarzenberg, however, eluded the investigation by flight in the night-time, and despite a guard set. In an unusual way and in utter contempt of your highness's received orders, he secretly escaped."[51]
"Now," cried the Elector passionately, "would you maintain, that my States have reported to me what is not true?"
"It is true," said Count Schwarzenberg. "I saw myself forced to escape unjust pursuit, and—"
"Forced by your bad conscience, sir," interrupted the Elector impatiently. "You left it for others to draw out of the fire the chestnuts which you had thrown in, and when you found out that I was not the timid, powerless Prince you supposed me to be, who could be frightened at a contest with you and your faction and awed by your glory and dignity; when you saw that I would bring you to justice, you evaded the course of law and fled precipitately from the judges."
"Because I knew that these judges were my enemies, and that he who was at their head, President von Götze, had been my father's implacable foe of old."
"That is to say, he had been of old an honest, true Brandenburger, not merely having proved himself an incorruptible man, but never having condescended to bribe others for the sake of obtaining honor, position, or wealth for himself."
"Your highness," called out the count hastily, "would you defame my father even in his grave?"
"Have I pronounced your father's name?" asked the Elector, with dignity.
"Is it not rather you who asperse your late father's fame by referring to him what I said with regard to bribery?"
The count cast down his eyes and was silent. Frederick William now turned by a slow movement of the head to Count Martinitz.
"Sir Count," he said gravely and ceremoniously, "I interrupted you in your presentation. Continue it, and introduce this gentleman to me. I must know in what capacity he dares return to my dominions and intrude upon my presence."
"Your Electoral Highness, I have the honor of presenting to you the count of the empire, Adolphus John von Schwarzenberg, imperial privy counselor and chamberlain, also attaché and associate of the Emperor's ambassador extraordinary, furnished with a safe conduct signed by the Emperor himself."
"I well knew," cried the Elector, "that this gentleman had made sure of his own safety before venturing near me. That was the reason of my question. As imperial officer and chamberlain he is secure against my just wrath, and his Majesty's safe conduct a glorious wall behind which to hide himself. Let him profit by it; I shall not see him behind the wall, but instead only a piece of white paper, on which his Imperial Majesty has inscribed his name, and accordingly I shall respect this piece of paper, which otherwise I would tear in twain."
"Your highness!" cried Count Schwarzenberg—"your highness, I—"
"Count von Martinitz," interposed the Elector haughtily, "I empower you to say to the ambassador extraordinary of his Imperial Majesty, that I give him leave to deliver the Emperor's message to me and to impart to me his Majesty's desires."
"Most respected lord and Elector," said Dr. Gebhard with solemnity, "his Majesty the Emperor Ferdinand sends me to your highness in the assured hope that in your justice and exalted wisdom your grace will be superior to all personal enmities, and not visit upon the son faults, perhaps unintentional, committed against you by the father."
"Of what father and son do you speak, sir?" asked the Elector.
"Of the father who for twenty years was the honored counselor and friend of Elector George William, who, faithful even beyond the tomb, forsook the earth no longer tenanted by his lord and Elector. Of the son who has committed no crime except that of being his father's heir, and not allowing his patrimony to be diminished and torn from him. For this son, in the Emperor's name, I would plead with your Electoral Highness for grace and favor, beseeching you not to deprive him of his rights, but to restore to him what belongs to him."
"Tell me, Dr. Gebhard," asked the Elector, "what those rights are of which I have deprived him, according to his Majesty's opinion, and what things I have taken from him which belong to him?"
"Already in his father's lifetime Count John Adolphus Schwarzenberg was elected his coadjutor in the Order of St. John, therefore on his father's demise he had a right to the vacant dignity of grand master, and yet this has not been accorded him by your highness. As his father's heir, Count John Adolphus received all his father's property, and entered into possession of it. Yet this your highness did not allow him uncontested, and withheld what was his. Nay, your highness even instituted a criminal process against the young count, his father's heir. This last proceeding is especially distasteful and annoying to his Majesty; the Emperor wishes above all things that your highness withdraw this criminal suit, referring it to the imperial court at Vienna, and that you again receive Count John into favor." [52]
"Truly his Imperial Majesty asks and requires a great deal of me," cried Frederick William, with flashing eyes and cheeks flushed with anger. "More than a prince dare give, who has to act not merely in subjection and dependence, but as Sovereign of his people. It seems to me as if no one had cause to interfere in this affair of Count Adolphus Schwarzenberg, for it concerns the interior interests of my realm. Within the limits of my own country I alone am lord and ruler, and only one lord there is, before whom I bow, and whom I recognize as my superior—the law! Law is properly supreme within the Brandenburg provinces, and shall and must reign over high and low! But my favor, sir, my favor, can only flow spontaneously from within, and can not be arbitrarily bestowed even at an Emperor's behest. I have not withdrawn my favor from Count Adolphus Schwarzenberg, for he never possessed it. Law and right alone must decide for or against him. Many of my subjects have brought accusations against him, and for these I am pledged to procure justice at the hands of the courts of justice. What was done in my lands must be also judged in my lands, else my subjects might be wounded in their sense of right; and to assign this suit to the imperial court at Vienna would be in the highest degree derogatory to the Electoral power and jurisdiction. I can not therefore gratify his Imperial Majesty in this wish.[53] As concerns his right to the place of grand master, that appointment belongs not to me, but to the members of the order. They, however, will not elect the young count, and I can not compel them to do so. Lastly, as regards the estates claimed by the heir of the Stadtholder in the Mark, his title to them is wanting, and, moreover, there are no accounts to prove that the money for which the estates were mortgaged was ever used by the Stadtholder for my father's benefit. Besides, even if such contracts existed, they were entered into without the consent of the States, and consequently by the laws of the land were null and void. This is the reply I have to make to the imperial envoy, of which I can alter and abate nothing, however I may deplore any apparent disrespect to his Imperial Majesty's wishes. Return to Vienna, Dr. Gebhard, return with your associate and attaché, and repeat to the Emperor what I have said to you. You are dismissed, gentlemen."
"Your Electoral Highness will pardon me for venturing to add one more word," said Count Martinitz, "but I am empowered to do so by the imperial order. The Emperor Ferdinand commissioned me in his own handwriting, in case that your highness refused to accede to the demands made by Dr. Gebhard—"
"Demands?" broke in the Elector. "I did not hear Dr. Gebhard make use of any such term. Mention was made only of imperial wishes and requests. You mean that in case I do not grant Dr. Gebhard's requests—Proceed, Count Martinitz."
"I am in that case commissioned to desire your highness in the Emperor's name to grant a private audience to the attaché of the imperial embassy, the Emperor's privy counselor and chamberlain, Count Adolphus von Schwarzenberg, as he wishes to make an important and confidential communication to your highness."
Frederick William's piercing eyes were fixed with a questioning expression upon the count's face, whose eyes returned the look with a bold and steady gaze.
"You presume greatly upon the respect I owe the Emperor," said the Elector after a pause. "I have wished to regard you hitherto merely as a piece of paper hallowed by the Emperor's superscription. But now you voluntarily step forth from behind the protecting paper, and present yourself to me as a man, a self-dependent individual, who is responsible for his words and actions. Consider well what you risk, sir, and take my advice: retreat, while yet there is time! Ask me not to look upon you as you actually are, but be content, inasmuch as in you I respect the Emperor's safe conduct. Reflect once again, and then speak!"
"Your Electoral Highness," said the count after a pause, "the Emperor has condescended to request a secret audience for me of your grace. I entreat your highness to grant it to me."
"You desire it? Be it so, then!" cried the Elector. "You, gentlemen, Count von Martinitz and Dr. Gebhard, are dismissed. Count Schwarzenberg may remain. For the Emperor's sake I am ready to grant him the secret audience. Take your leave, gentlemen! Your audience is at an end!"
The two gentlemen bowed low and withdrew. The Elector followed them with his eyes until the door closed behind them. Then he slowly turned his head toward Count Schwarzenberg.
"Speak now," he ordered coldly and severely. "Say what you have to say, but weigh well each word, and take heed of rousing my wrath, for I tell you the measure of my patience and forbearance is well-nigh exhausted! What would you have of me? What do you want?"
"Justice, your highness, justice! Enter into no contest with me! Take not away from me the estates given in pledge by the Elector George William to my father, which have not yet been redeemed. Acknowledge me as the Grand Master of the Knights of St. John, graciously nominate me Stadtholder in the Mark, and I swear to you that I shall be your faithful and devoted servant, your mediator with Emperor and empire! You see, your highness, I ask for nothing but justice!"
"Justice!" repeated Frederick William, while with flashing eyes he approached one step nearer the count. "Beware of reminding me that I have not exercised justice toward you! Ask it not, for then I must needs summon a guard and have you arrested! Then must I call a court-martial, have you tried, and see you mount the scaffold!"
"The scaffold!" exclaimed the count, turning pale. "But then the Emperor would call you to account for this deed of violence, and—"
"Deed of violence, you call it?" interposed the Elector. "You are mistaken, sir; it would only be a merited punishment! You deserve this punishment, not on account of anything done by your father, although in sooth you bore a full share in his deeds, but on account of your own crime."
"Crime, your highness?"
"Yes, count, crime! You are a conspirator, a rebel! You incited my officers to revolt, entangled them in a conspiracy, and when I would have brought you to judgment you fled like a cowardly woman."
"Your highness!" screamed the count, "I beseech you, weigh your words, provoke me not too much! Otherwise I might forget the respect due you."
"And if you should venture, I have ample means of leading you back to the proper bounds, of forcing you to respect me, to fall down in the dust, and plead for pardon! Do you know what you are? Do you know what you were?"
"What I was I know," cried the count. "I was the favored lover of your sister, Princess Charlotte Louise!"
"Ah! Now at last you drop your mask, now you show your real face. The face of a slanderer, a liar! For you utter a falsehood. You calumniate the virtue of a noble lady, and boast of a favor you never received."
"I speak the truth, your highness, and am in a condition to prove it. Princess Charlotte Louise gave me her favor, and went further than was seemly for a modest maiden. She volunteered to grant me a rendezvous impelled by ardent love."
"That is not true."
"It is true, sir, and I can prove it! I have the writing with me, in which your sister invites me to a rendezvous in the castle at Berlin. She wrote it with her own hand, and signed it with her name. Until now, no one has known the secret, and no one shall know it if we can agree."
"We agree?"
"Yes, your highness, we! Your sister's letter is well worth what I ask.
I demand nothing but my rights. Leave me my estates, acknowledge me as
grand master, appoint me my father's successor, give me the hand of
Princess Charlotte Louise."
"My sister's hand to you?"
"To me, for I have a right to that hand. The Princess engaged herself to me, and granted me favors."
"Wretched man, to boast of them!" interrupted the Elector.
"She appointed a meeting with me to take place by night," continued the count quietly. "Your honor would be destroyed if any one knew of this. Let me keep it intact! Give me your sister's hand! For I tell you if you do not the world shall hear of this faux pas on the part of the Princess. I shall publicly expose the letter she wrote to me, and a laugh of scorn will pursue both you and her through the whole of Germany! Give me your sister's hand!"
"Were you the Emperor himself I would not give her to you. And if you were in a position to defame my whole house, I would not give her to you! And were my sister to fall at my feet weeping at my refusal, I would not give her to you! Yes, and if I knew that my lands and wealth would be doubled by this marriage, I would never give my sister to you! I asked you just now if you knew what you were and what you are. To the first question you replied that you were my sister's lover. Now I will tell you what you are: you are the son of a poisoner and a murderer!"
"Sir!" screamed the count, bounding forward in fury and with a sudden movement drawing his dagger from its sheath—"sir, you assail my father in his grave, I will defend him! You owe me satisfaction for this insult! It is not the Elector who stands before me, but a man who has wounded my honor, and I demand satisfaction. You dare not refuse it, or—"
"Or you will complete your father's work, will you? Will hire murderers to do what you dare not attempt yourself? Oh, you may very probably find a second Gabriel Nietzel, whom you may goad on to crime, profiting by his agony and distress of mind to change a thoughtless deceiver into a poisoner! Do not stare at me in such amazement, as if you understood not my words! You know Gabriel Nietzel well, and your dagger would not have fallen from your hand if your conscience had not struck it down!"
"I know nothing of Gabriel Nietzel!" cried the count, "I only know that you have called my father a murderer and—"
"And, I did wrong in this, for certainly the murderous deed miscarried! I live! And he was forced to die. Do you know of what your father died?"
"Of grief, and the humiliations which you prepared for him!"
"No, he died of remorse. A stroke, they say, put an end to his life. Yes, it was conscience that smote him to the earth. Gabriel Nietzel stood before him and reminded him of his deeds, demanding of him his wife, whom your father murdered because she saved my life!"
"Horrible!" muttered the count, with sunken head and downcast eyes.
"Yes, horrible!" repeated the Elector. "Gabriel Nietzel was the avenging sword sent from on high for your father's punishment. He, the unhappy one, himself confessed his crime to me, and I have forgiven him. I will forgive your father also, for he stands before a higher tribunal, and He who tries the heart, will reward him according to his deeds. But I am your judge, and your deeds accuse you before me! I could have you arrested and tried, and, believe me, I would do so, despite the imperial safe conduct, behind which you have ensconced yourself, but I honor in you the memory of my father, who loved yours, and would not have the world discover how shamefully the magnanimous heart of George William was deceived. Regarding the property you claim from me, let the law decide; regarding the military title you aspire to, let the knights of the order decide; but regarding the accusation which you bring against my sister, and the offer you make me on her account, the Princess alone is the proper person to consult. You shall speak with her this very hour, for I would not have your vain heart puffed up with the idea that the Princess loves you, and that it is only my tyranny which separates you from her. No, you shall speak with the Princess herself, and she shall decide the question between you. And that you may not suppose that I have influenced my sister, you shall speak to her before I communicate with her myself."
He took the handbell and rang; a page appeared. "Request her Electoral
Grace the Princess Charlotte Louise to have the kindness to come to me."
"Your Electoral Grace," said the page, "Colonel von Burgsdorf has just come into the antechamber, and urgently insists upon my announcing him to your grace."
"Admit him and call the Princess. When the gracious young lady has entered the antechamber, let me know. Admit the colonel."
"Here I am, your highness, here I am!" cried Conrad von Burgsdorf, coming in with hasty steps. "I am just from Berlin, and bring my dearest lord good news, and—But what is that?" interrupted he, fixing his lively gray eyes upon Count Schwarzenberg, who, pale and visibly disconcerted, had withdrawn into one of the window niches.
For one moment Burgsdorf stood still, as if bewildered by the unexpected sight, then he sprang forward like a tiger, and laid his hands like iron claws upon the count's shoulders.
"In the name of the Elector and the law, I arrest you Count Schwarzenberg!" he shrieked.
"Let him go, Burgsdorf," commanded Frederick William.
"No, gracious sir," cried Burgsdorf, "I can not, must not let him go. I must hold fast to my prisoner until I have put him in a safe prison. If I take my hands off him, he will surely find some mousehole to creep through. I know the fine gentleman, and have had experience of his mouselike nature. I thought I had him safe at Berlin, imprisoned in his own palace, and sentinels stationed everywhere. A man could not have escaped, but a mouse can find a hole to retire to almost anywhere. Master Mousy here slipped off through an underground passage. Fortunately I had stationed a couple of spies in front of the park, and one of them came to inform me that they had seen two suspicious personages issue from the park, while the other dogged their footsteps. I flew to horse, and, thinking that the young count would make for Spandow, raced with my men to the Spandow Gate. Exactly, they had just fled on before. We gave them chase. Huzza! that was a hunt! Already I thought I had the fugitives within my reach, and stretched out my hand to grasp them, when they galloped into the fortress, the gate was shut, and I stood baffled on the outside, and had my mortification increased by hearing Colonel Rochow's mocks and jeers from the wall above. And now when I can take my revenge, when I at last have my prisoner trapped and caught, now, your highness commands me to let him go. No, your highness, it is impossible; for trust me, as soon as I let him go he will find his way to some mousehole. I arrest you in the name of the Elector and the law, Count John Adolphus von Schwarzenberg!"
"Burgsdorf!" cried the Elector in a commanding tone, "once more, I command you to let him go, and come here. Obey without delay!"
The colonel muttered between his teeth a few wild words of wrath, but released the count, and with bowed head and chagrined air slunk toward the Elector.
"You treat me like a well-trained pointer, your highness!" he growled.
"You whistle for me, and I drop the prey which you would not have me keep."
"You do yourself too much honor, old Burgsdorf," said the Elector, smiling. "A well-trained pointer does not follow a false scent, and that was what you were doing just now. Did you expect to find a fugitive in your master's cabinet? You thought that this was Count John Adolphus Schwarzenberg, whom I was compelled to arraign as a criminal, and who, in his consciousness of guilt, took refuge from trial in flight. Look closely at what is in the window niche and acknowledge that you were mistaken, and that it is not Count Adolphus Schwarzenberg."
Colonel Burgsdorf, perfectly bewildered, gazed with wide-open eyes first on the Elector and then on the count, who returned his stare with a scornful smile.
"Most gracious sir," he then cried, "my head is not clear enough to discern your meaning, and I stick to it: that is Count Adolphus Schwarzenberg, my escaped prisoner."
"And I repeat it, you are mistaken, your old eyes deceive you! Look once more right sharply and closely, and you will perceive your error and comprehend that this is not Count Adolphus Schwarzenberg, to whom I could never have granted an audience in my cabinet. Only look closer and you will see, old Burgsdorf, that there is nought in the window niche but a great sheet of parchment, inscribed with manifold characters, furnished with the seal of the empire, and signed by the Emperor Ferdinand's own hand. I know that you do not read with ease, and therefore will tell you what is marked on this parchment, and what it means. It means a safe conduct, and the Emperor himself has written upon it that this parchment must be held in honor and sacred from all attack."
"Ah!" cried the colonel—"ah! I begin to understand now."
"Well truly that is a fortunate circumstance," said the Elector, smiling.
"Yes, your highness," repeated Burgsdorf, "I begin to understand. Let me examine the thing narrowly once again."
He covered his eyes with his hand, as if he were blinded by a ray of light, and again stared at the window niche.
"Yes, indeed," he said slowly—"yes, I see it quite plainly and distinctly now. Yes, that is no man, but a veritable piece of parchment, and I recognize, too, the imperial seal and the Emperor's handwriting. Where were my eyes that I did not see it from the first, and what a stupid fool I was to suppose that I saw a man there! What misfortune would have ensued if I had defaced the Emperor's handwriting or broken the seal, perhaps!"
"It would have been a wrong done to Imperial Majesty itself," smiled the Elector, "and might have brought me under the ban of the empire, or perhaps produced a war."
"Good heavens! a war about an ass's hide," exclaimed Burgsdorf, with an expression of horror.
"Surely, your highness," shrieked the count, stepping forth from his place of retirement, pale and trembling with passion, "you can not ask me any longer to submit in silence to such gross insults."
"Gracious sir," asked Burgsdorf, "may the ass's hide speak? May a piece of parchment, merely because hallowed by the Emperor's signature, venture to leave its place and threaten?"
"Hush, Burgsdorf! And you, sir, step back into your recess, stay in the place pointed out to you, and wait."
"Learn to wait!" cried Burgsdorf. "Oh, gracious sir, that is the very window niche in which I was once forced to stand in order to learn to wait. I thank you, gracious sir, for in this hour you give me my revenge. Now it is for my enemy to learn; and I beseech Your Grace to give me leave to open my budget from Berlin. The parchment must hear it and learn. Oh, I know how it feels to have to listen in silence to have to learn to wait!"
"Colonel Conrad von Burgsdorf," said the Elector with majesty, "you are here to bring me tidings from Berlin. Speak out and be assured that no one will venture to interrupt you. In the first place, have you executed my orders?"
"Yes, gracious sir, according to the best of my abilities and the means at my disposal."
"As their superior officer, have you required an oath of allegiance to me from the commandants and garrisons of the forts?"
"I sent your orders everywhere, requiring the commandants to swear their men into service in your name, and to come to Berlin that I might administer the same oath to themselves."
"And have they done so? Have my officers and troops sworn to serve me faithfully?"
"A few commandants have done so, but Kracht, Rochow, and Goldacker have refused, declaring that they would rather blow their fortresses up than swear fealty to the Elector. Hereupon I forthwith had the commandant of Berlin, Colonel von Kracht, arrested, and would have proceeded in like manner against the Commandants von Rochow and von Goldacker, but the traitors got wind of my intentions. Goldacker left Brandenburg with thirty horse, and, report says, went over to the Imperialists. Colonel von Rochow, however, in his fortress assumed a warlike attitude, and gave out that he was ready to do battle with the enemy to the death. Meanwhile Margrave Ernest conferred with him under a flag of truce, and the committee of investigation at Berlin diligently prosecuted their labors, and brought to light heinous offenses committed by the two colonels and Count John Adolphus von Schwarzenberg."
"Do you know the particulars? The colonels were accused of cheating and embezzlement, were they not?"
"Yes," said Burgsdorf with a little embarrassment, "the question regards the payment of the troops enlisted, for which the colonels received money, and—and—"
"And yet the men were not enlisted," said the Elector, with an imperceptible smile. "Had they done nothing more than this, I would have pardoned them; if they had shown themselves in other respects true and faithful, and repented of their folly."
"But this they have by no means done!" cried Burgsdorf eagerly. "They have rather shown themselves to be obstinate and untoward. Goldacker has been extorting bonds in Fürstenwald, plundering whole villages, and putting the magistrates in chains, because they would not say that Goldacker gave the press money to the young fellows of the village, although these had not made their appearance. Colonel von Rochow put the clerk of his muster roll in irons, and had him condemned to the gallows by a court-martial, because the poor fellow would not bear false witness and swear that the colonel had made payments to him. When the Stadtholder demanded the clerk's release, Colonel von Rochow insolently refused to give him up, and now the margrave ordered me to arrest him. But von Rochow did as his accomplices—he fled and made his escape to the Imperialists."
"Let the Imperialists keep Goldacker and Rochow," said the Elector. "I would have them know that I from this time forth cheerfully resign their services, and yield them up with good grace to the Emperor and empire. With these two, therefore, we have done. Tell me now, how the Schwarzenberg affair stands. We gave orders that in due time the papers found in the palace of the deceased count should be sealed and handed over to the committee of investigation. Was this done, and has it perhaps been made evident from the examination of the papers, that the son of the Stadtholder was innocent of complicity in the intrigues of his father and friends, and been falsely accused by us?"
"On the contrary, your highness, it was proved that Count John Adolphus had conspired, not merely with the rebellious officers, but with other persons not subjects of your highness. Among the papers of the old count was found the young gentleman's secret correspondence. It was in cipher, it is true, but there are very learned men on the committee of investigation, and they discovered the key, and were able to read the letters. Oh, most gracious sir, all your faithful servants were shamefully slandered and calumniated in these letters. Your highness even was not spared, and the young gentleman expressly wrote that he would do all he possibly could to effect the downfall of the Elector Frederick William. Of the States, he said that they were almost all friends of the Swedes and foes of the Emperor, and, above all, he represented me, Conrad von Burgsdorf, as a bitter enemy to the Emperor, and said that on that account all orders came to me. But the States will complain to the Emperor that the rebellious slanderer, Count Schwarzenberg, has blackened them so abominably and accused them of high treason."
"They can do so," said the Elector—"they can call the slanderer to account, and you can do so too, Burgsdorf, if it seems necessary to you."
"But it does not seem at all necessary to me, your highness," cried the colonel. "I have only one master, yourself, and if I had injured your grace I should have been guilty of high treason. Henceforth I shall be nothing but the most devoted and diligent servant of my dear young lord and Elector, and I care very little about Schwarzenberg's having aspersed me to the Emperor if I am only blessed with your favor."
"I have recognized you as a true and faithful servant," said the Elector kindly, "and I am no ingrate. You shall experience this hereafter, for I shall find means to reward my old friend as he deserves!"
"Your highness, you have rewarded me already," cried Burgsdorf—"you have called me your friend, my Elector, and I thank you out of a full heart."
The Elector nodded. "In time all the world shall learn that I honor and esteem you as my friend," he said. "But now tell me, what progress has been made in quieting the refractory soldiery in the Mark? Have you begun that difficult task?"
"We have begun, your highness, and will also end, although at first there was much insubordination and mutiny, and although the cart had been driven so deep into the mire that we could not have drawn it out altogether without great difficulty, even if there had been more of us."
The door of the antechamber opened, and the page made his appearance.
"In accordance with your highness's request, the Princess has entered the antechamber."
"Beg the young lady to wait a moment. I will come directly to conduct her grace into my cabinet."
"Burgsdorf," said the Elector, turning to the colonel, "go up now, and pay your respects to my mother. You can tell her what is going on at Berlin. Her grace will hear you gladly, for she takes great interest in the cities of Berlin and Cologne."
"Very curious stories I can tell the Electress, since your highness accords me that permission!" cried the colonel. "Many thrilling affairs have happened, and—"
"Go now, my friend," said the Elector, pointing to the door through which Burgsdorf had entered. Then he crossed over to the opposite end of the apartment himself and opened the door of the inner room.
XI.—MEETING AND PARTING.
"Be kind enough to come in, dear sister," said the Elector, standing in the doorway and smilingly greeting the Princess, who now entered the apartment.
"I have come at your bidding, Frederick," said the Princess, accepting her brother's proffered hand, and looking up at him with a sweet, affectionate smile.
In the window niche stood John Adolphus Schwarzenberg, and the fires of passion and resentment burned in the glance which he fixed upon the Princess, whom he now saw for the first time after a lapse of three years. How much pain and mortification had he not suffered during these three years on her account? The only change wrought in the Princess by the flight of time was a more perfect development of beauty and of grace of carriage. The count heaved a deep, painful sigh, and the rage of despair took possession of his soul at the sight of that noble, tranquil countenance.
"She has not suffered," he said to himself. "She never loved me, and will now despise me!"
"Forgive me, sister, for troubling you to come to me," said Frederick William, nodding affectionately to the Princess. "I ought indeed to have come to you, but I wished to speak with you on a matter strictly confidential, which I did not wish our mother and sister to know anything about."
"Is it really a secret, then?" asked Charlotte Louise—"no bad secret, I hope, Frederick?"
"It at least touches very grave matters," replied the Elector. "Look yonder at that window niche."
The Princess turned quickly, and looked in the direction indicated. A low scream escaped her lips, and she sank trembling upon a seat.
"Adolphus!" murmured her quivering lips.
This single utterance spoke more eloquently to both men than the most elaborate arrangement of sentences could have done. It told them that years of separation had not estranged the Princess from Count Schwarzenberg; that her heart still called him by the familiar name accorded him by love; that with the count, Charlotte Louise was not the proud Princess, but only the humble, loving maiden. The Elector understood this, and a cloud overshadowed his brow.
The count understood it, too, and his dark countenance brightened. With uplifted head he rushed from the window niche to the Princess, and, kneeling before her, seized her hand to press it to his lips. But this touching of her hand seemed to restore to the Princess her strength and self-possession. By a hasty movement she released her hand and rose.
"Brother," she said, "is it customary to greet princesses in this style? Be pleased to tell me, for you know I have been but little in the world, and am, therefore, but little conversant with its forms."
"No, Louise, it is not customary," replied Frederick William, breathing more freely; "but Count Schwarzenberg seems to suppose, that as your favored lover he need not regard the laws of ceremony."
"As my favored lover?" asked the Princess, a blush suddenly suffusing her brow and neck, while her blue eyes, usually so soft, sparkled with indignation. "Did I hear aright? Did you actually say that to me, brother, to your sister? Did you call this or any other man my favored lover?"
"I only repeated the words made use of by Count John Adolphus von Schwarzenberg in suing for your hand, sister. This gentleman affirms that you have granted him more favor than was seemly in a modest maiden. And when I doubted it he replied that he could prove it, for he possessed a note, written with your own hand, in which you invited him to a rendezvous by night."
"He said that!" cried the Princess. "He said that, and you did not kill him on the spot?"
"I did not kill him," answered the Elector gravely and solemnly, "because no one should die for the truth. And he maintains that he speaks the truth: that by means of this letter of yours he can dishonor you and my house in the eyes of the whole world. Say then, Louise, is it true; does he actually possess such a letter?"
Charlotte Louise shuddered and tottered backward.
"Yes!" she breathed—"yes, he speaks the truth—he does possess such a letter!"
"No!" cried the count, "he did not speak the truth! Oh, forgive me, Princess, forgive me this slander, which my lips uttered, uttered in the delirium of pain, love, and despair! I lied, Princess, you never wrote to me, never! I said that in order to force your brother to give me your hand, because I love you, Princess, you know not how dearly! Ah! you little imagine with what fervor of devotion my soul clung to you, and what you did that time when you mocked and betrayed me, treating me like a despised beggar! That hour wrought a change in my whole nature! The most sacred blossoms of my love had been crushed by you, and I trampled them under foot and strove to bury my despair in mirth and pleasure. I did not succeed. The sacred old song of the buried love was forever making itself heard in low, sweet strains. I would not listen, I tried to drown it. I became a conspirator, a rebel, for I longed to take vengeance upon you and your house. Fate was against me; my revenge constituting my punishment. I must flee, I must leave as a fugitive the land in which you live. The Emperor received me graciously, giving me rank and titles, and bestowing upon me marks of favor and regard, thus opening to the ambitious heart a career of fame, dignity, and honor. All was in vain, though. I felt too late that love, not ambition, had urged me into the dangerous paths of insurrection and revolt. I could not forget you. Like a radiant star, you ever shone upon the midnight darkness of my soul. I must see you again, to obtain from your own lips my sentence of pardon or condemnation. I despised all danger, even the order of arrest issued against me, and obtained the Emperor's leave to accompany his ambassador here. I came and suffered the severest mortification that a man can suffer. I subjected myself to your brother's scorn and contempt. Then at last my heart rebelled, and when he scornfully refused your hand to me, I claimed it as my right, by virtue of the love you once vowed to me. The Elector disputed your love for me, and then, in the rage of my heart, I boasted of a favor which I never received, boasted of having received from you a letter, and an invitation to a rendezvous. Oh, forgive the madman who kneels here at your feet and suffers the agony of death. He has no right to claim anything, he only implores from you an act of grace!"
While the count thus spoke in passionate excitement, the Elector had slowly retired, and, standing apart with folded arms, gazed upon the couple with melancholy eyes. In the beginning the Princess had sunk upon a chair, with bowed head and hanging arms, pale as a drooping lily. But the glowing words which fell upon her ear seemed to find an echo, a painful echo, in her heart. Slowly she raised her head, and breathlessly listened to his words, while the color once more mounted to her cheek. When the count stopped, she slowly rose and proudly and indignantly drew herself erect.
"You speak falsely now, Count Schwarzenberg," she said, "for what you told my brother was true. Yes, three years ago, in the childish folly of my heart, I granted you a favor unseemly for a modest maiden. Yes, I wrote you a note with my own hand, inviting you to a rendezvous in the castle at nine o'clock in the evening. Brother, I confess this, although I know that I am thereby forever forfeiting your esteem. But this man has accused me, and I honor the past of my heart, while I acknowledge the fault of which he accuses me. Yes, I have loved him, warmly, inexpressibly, and have wept and lamented him in a manner little becoming a princess, but in my love I was only a poor simple maiden, who wanted nothing in the whole world but his heart. Well I know that I sinned grievously against my mother and the laws of virtue and propriety in carrying on a clandestine love affair, in allowing my heart to be deceived by his ardent protestations of love and even in my delusion going so far as to grant him a rendezvous—nay, even to ask for one."
"Did you really do that, sister?"
"I did, and have repented it for three long years. That I confess this, that I reveal my secret, should prove to you that I now speak the truth. And therefore you will believe me, Frederick William, when I affirm that this is the only favor of which the count can boast. I have to blush before you, but not before him."
"Not before me either, Louise," said the Elector. "I know love, and in my own heart have battled with all its follies and illusions. I know what you suffer, by remembering my own experiences. It is a bitter grief to be obliged to admit that you have wasted the holiest feelings of your heart upon an unworthy object."
"Yes indeed, it is a bitter grief," sighed the Princess.
"O Princess! spare yourself this grief!" cried the count, still kneeling before her. "You have freely owned that you love me. Why, then, will you turn away from me? Accept me as your husband, and I will love you, serve you, obey you, ask nothing but the privilege of looking upon you, and basking in your presence."