The groom of the chambers placed four chairs near the writing table and withdrew.
After a few moments the four gentlemen entered the cabinet, the attendant announcing them by name.
"Good morning, gentlemen," cried the king as they came in; "seat yourselves."
The Minister for Foreign Affairs, Count Platen zu Hallermund, a descendant of the well-known Count Platen so frequently spoken of in connexion with the Königsmark mystery, took the chair nearest the king.
He was a man of fifty years of age, with regular and agreeable features, the glossy black of his thick hair and moustache seemed hardly to accord with his years, though it did so completely with the youthful and elastic bearing of his slight and elegant figure.
On the other side of the king sat the Minister of the Interior, Bacmeister, a man little older than Count Platen, but who bore far more the stamp of his age. His thin fair hair was grey, and his features had an expression of weariness, partly from the fatigue of an overworked mind, partly from sickness and bodily suffering. Only when his attention was aroused did his features start into life, his eyes sparkled with high and unusual intelligence, and an expression of fine irony played round his intellectual mouth.
When he spoke, his words were accompanied by the most animated and expressive action, which implied besides the words he uttered many unspoken thoughts, his clear and well-toned voice, his excellent choice of words, combined with this action, and fluent eloquence, greatly influenced even his political opponents, who could not resist the impression, and who usually fell sous le charme of this, at first sight, uninteresting person.
Both the ministers wore the blue coat of office, with black velvet collars.
The Minister of War, General von Brandis, was a man seventy-one years old; a follower of the iron Duke of Wellington, he had served in Spain and taken part in the campaigns of 1813 and 1815. Jovial cheerfulness beamed from his fresh, healthy face, which was surmounted by a short black wig. His upper lip was concealed by a small black moustache.
He seated himself at the side of the table, opposite the king, as did General Tschirschnitz.
"I have called you together, gentlemen," said the king, "because at this grave moment I wish again to hear your opinions and to express my will. I have called for you, General Brandis, and for you, my Adjutant General, as representatives of the military relations of the kingdom; for you, Count Platen, as my Minister of Foreign Affairs, to whose especial department the most important questions belong; and for you, my dear Bacmeister, because you know so well the interior condition of the country and the opinions of the people; and," he added with a gracious smile, "because I place extreme confidence in your views and advice."
The Minister of the Interior bowed.
"You remember, gentlemen, that a short time ago in the large council which I held here, and at which you were present, the great question arose of what position Hanover must take in the lamentable quarrel which, unhappily, grows sharper and more threatening between the two great powers of Germany. The military gentlemen, especially General von Jacobi, declared unanimously that the army was not in a state of preparation for immediate war--which God forbid! a mobilization and general military preparation is on political grounds highly undesirable: on the other hand it is necessary, from a military point of view, to make some arrangement to prevent our being surprised unprepared. To reconcile these opinions I commanded the yearly exercises to be held at an earlier time, so that the troops may be more ready to march in case of need, and also that the people may not be inconvenienced by having the exercises during the harvest. The difficulties are constantly increasing, and an outbreak of hostilities appears unavoidable. Then arises the serious question for Hanover, whether to take part on one or the other side would be possible or advisable; or whether the strictest neutrality should be maintained. I beg you, Count Platen, first to give us your views."
Count Platen spoke:--
"I do not doubt, your majesty, the gravity of the position, but I do not believe a war will really ensue. We have so often seen great échauffements in the political world, which yet have all cooled down again. I then humbly give my opinion that the moment has not yet come for forming or expressing any decision."
A slight, almost imperceptible, smile passed over the king's face. General von Tschirschnitz shook his head.
"If it were needful to take a definite and positive course," added Count Platen, "it would certainly not be my advice that we should place ourselves decidedly on one or the other side. We have interests on both sides to consider, and we do not know which will be victorious. Neutrality appears to me our natural course."
"You would advise me, then, to conclude a treaty of neutrality?" asked the king.
"A treaty, your majesty!" replied Count Platen, his slender figure seeming to contract; "a treaty is the last step I should recommend; it would give great offence in Vienna, and if a war never broke out we should scarcely be forgiven."
"But how are we to maintain neutrality without a treaty?" asked the king.
"We can conclude it at any moment," said Platen; "they will be only too delighted in Berlin to find we shall not act against them."
"You would then----" asked the king.
"Gain time, your majesty--gain time," said Count Platen; "we are now in request on both sides, and we should lose our favourable position if we decided positively for either. The longer we wait, the more advantageously we can place ourselves."
The king covered his face and eyes with his hand, and remained silent for a moment; then he turned to the other side, and said:--
"And what do you think, Bacmeister?"
He replied in the low voice which always so magically compelled attention:
"It is always my principle, your majesty, to be perfectly clear as to the later consequences of present actions. The position which your majesty now takes will have very important results. Your majesty can join either Austria or Prussia. Should you cast in your lot with Austria,--and should Prussia be as completely beaten as they hope she will be in Vienna,--and as I do not think she will be, perhaps you would gain more extended power and greater influence in Germany; but should the play be adverse, the forfeit is your crown. Such a policy may be bold and great, but it risks all on the game. Should your majesty decide on this course, the decision must be your own: no minister could advise his master to use his crown as the stake in a dangerous game. Should your majesty join with Prussia, you follow the course natural to Hanover, and in case of victory your position will not be so brilliant, neither do you run so great a danger in case of defeat, for Austria, though victorious, cannot weaken Hanover. But your majesty still fortunately possesses the power of maintaining neutrality, which they are willing to accept in Berlin, and in return you preserve the safety of your country and your crown; perhaps you will even partake of the advantages of victory without the sacrifices of war. According to my views the decision cannot be doubtful, and I pronounce unhesitatingly for neutrality. But," continued the minister with greater energy, "neutrality must be sealed at once by the most binding treaty. As events progress, I see with dread the moment approaching when Prussia will no longer be satisfied with neutrality alone, but will demand what your majesty cannot and will not grant. Nothing can be gained by delay and hesitation except mistrust on both sides, and at last the complete isolation of Hanover in a war in which we are not strong enough to stand alone and unprotected. I give my voice therefore for the immediate conclusion of a binding treaty of neutrality."
"General von Brandis?" said the king.
The general replied without the least change in the expression of his cheerful, smiling face:
"Your majesty knows I hate Prussia. As a child I remember the occupation of 1803, and the impression made on me then I never lost. I tell your majesty openly, my dearest wish would be gratified if I might draw my old sword on the side of Austria. But I acknowledge that the Minister of the Interior is perfectly right in his reasoning, and I fully subscribe to his views."
"And you, General von Tschirschnitz?" inquired the king.
"Your majesty," said the general, in his bluff, soldier-like voice, "I must strongly protest against the statement that the army is unfit for an active campaign. According to my opinion the army is ready to march and to do its duty, and to gain honour for the name of Hanover, and in the pages of history. I say this from complete conviction, and I shall never alter my views. As to political considerations and interests, I would rather your majesty did not ask me about them. I own the reasoning of the Minister of the Interior is correct. As a soldier I lament our neutrality, and I would far rather be marching beside you at the head of the brave Hanoverian army. If your majesty has decided on neutrality, I should advise you immediately to make the measure strong and unalterable. I abhor all half measures and uncertain situations, and I have never seen any good result from them."
The king raised himself from the position in which he had been listening, and said:
"You all then, gentlemen, advise the neutrality of Hanover in the deplorable war now, alas! impending between Austria and Prussia. Count Platen, only, believes we ought to gain time, and to put off the conclusion of a treaty, whilst Herr Bacmeister and the generals desire an immediate treaty that we may not lose the favourable moment. For myself, I incline to the views of the Minister of the Interior for the reasons he has so plainly stated. I beg you, my dear count, to act after my views," he said, turning to Count Platen, "and immediately to commence the necessary negotiations with Count Ysenburg."
"If you command it, your majesty," replied Count Platen, with evident reluctance, "yet surely you will wait at least a few days, until the situation is more declared, and we learn what is really taking place in Austria, and their wishes in Vienna. Count Ingelheim imparted to me this morning, that Prince Karl Solms is on his way hither, with an important charge from the emperor."
The king raised his head with an expression of astonishment.
"My brother Karl?" he cried, "what brings him here?"
"I do not know, your majesty," said Count Platen, "and Count Ingelheim did not know, or would not disclose, but we must wait to hear this mission before taking a decided step towards Prussia."
The king considered. Bacmeister shook his head in silence.
A knock was heard at the outer door. The groom of the chambers announced Herr Meding, who entered the cabinet and said:
"His royal highness Prince Karl Solms has just arrived, and requests an audience."
The king rose.
"Where is the prince?"
"He is with her majesty the queen, awaiting your majesty's commands."
The king rang.
"Beg Prince Karl to come," he said to the attendant who appeared; "you, gentlemen," he continued, turning to the ministers, "must kindly remain at Herrenhausen to breakfast, the privy councillor will be your host. My dear general, I thank you, and will no longer detain you. We cannot to-day do our regular work. I beg you to return to-morrow."
The four gentlemen withdrew. Lex walked up to the king's writing-table.
"The letter to the prince of Hesse, your majesty,--a short explanation, that your majesty under any circumstances desires to remain neutral, and confiding the rest to Herr Meding's personal explanation."
"It is quite right, give it me," said the king.
Lex placed the letter on the table, dipped a pen in the ink and gave it to the king, placing his hand on the exact spot on the paper for the signature. The king wrote in large bold characters: "George Rex."
"Is it right?" he inquired.
"Perfectly," replied Lex. He took the paper and withdrew.
Scarcely had he left the cabinet when the groom of the chambers threw open the doors with the words: "His royal highness Prince Karl."
The prince who entered was the king's step-brother, from Queen Frederica's previous marriage with the prince of Solms-Braunfels. He was a man of about fifty, tall and slight, with short grey hair; he resembled the king, though his features were much less regular; his face had the colouring of health, but an expression that told of suffering.
The prince wore the full uniform of an Austrian major general; in his hand he held his hat with its green plume and a sealed letter. On his breast he wore the Hanoverian Guelphic Order, and around his neck the Austrian Order of Leopold.
He hastened to the king who embraced him warmly.
"My dear Karl," cried King George, "what procures me the unexpected happiness of seeing you here? But first tell me how are your people?"
"Thank you for your kind interest," replied the prince, "we are all better at home, and my wife has quite recovered."
"And the Duchess of Ossuna?"
"I have excellent accounts of her."
"And you--how is your health?"
"My nerves plague me at times, otherwise I am well."
"So!" said the king, "and now sit down and tell me what brought you here. I heard a rumour through Count Ingelheim."
The prince seated himself near the king. "I wish I came in less serious times, on a less serious mission," he said sighing; "the emperor sends me to you. Here is his letter."
And he gave the king the note which he held in his hand. The king took it and passed his fingers lightly over the seal, then he laid it on the table before him.
"Do you know the contents; is there anything important in it?" he asked.
"Nothing important; only my credentials. My mission is personal."
"Speak then. I am anxious to hear."
"The emperor has determined," said the prince, "to commence a war, and to carry it on with all his power for the future formation of Germany, since he is convinced that by such a war, and by a decided Austrian victory alone, can lasting peace be procured, and lasting safety and independence for the princes of Germany."
"Then I was not mistaken," said the king, "war is decreed."
"It is," replied the prince, "and the emperor ardently desires to be surrounded in this war by the German princes, as he was at the Fürstentag at Frankfort."
"When they tried to catch me," said the king; "but go on."
"The emperor," added the prince, "prizes the alliance of Hanover above all things. He commanded me to say that he considered the interests of the Houses of Guelph and Hapsburg identical in Germany."
"The Guelphs have always fought against the imperial family," said the king.
"The emperor," proceeded the prince, "hopes that the old and intimate relations between Hanover and Austria may continue during the present crisis. He considers that at the congress of Vienna, Hanover did not receive her proper position in Germany, especially in North Germany. Called upon to be a powerful and independent barrier against Prussia's hegemonistic struggles, Hanover was yet left too weak through the diplomacy of the Vienna congress."
"Because Metternich's efforts were not supported," interrupted the king, half to himself.
"The emperor," continued the prince, "is desirous of repairing the errors of the Vienna congress by a new formation and organization of Germany, and for this purpose he wishes to conclude an offensive and defensive treaty with Hanover."
"On what basis?" asked the king.
"The most important points of the alliance which the emperor has in his mind are these," said the prince. "Hanover shall immediately place her whole army on a war footing, and in common with Austria, and at the same time, shall declare war against Prussia. In return the emperor will place the Kalik Brigade now at Holstein at your disposal, and will offer you General von Gablenz for a time as its commander. He promises his utmost support to Hanover should the war be unfavourable, and in case of victory he guarantees that Holstein and Prussian Westphalia shall be incorporated with your kingdom."
"In case of victory?" said the king; "do you believe in victory?"
The prince was silent for a moment.
"I am an Austrian general," he then said.
"Lay aside the Austrian general for a moment, and answer me as my brother."
"If our forces are properly led, and actively employed," replied the prince, after a short hesitation; "and if Germany supports us strongly and energetically, we must be successful. Our artillery is excellent, and our cavalry very superior to the Prussian."
"Hum!" said the king; "yet let us put aside these considerations, or you will believe me to be swayed entirely by interested motives, and I assure you it is not so. In this crisis there is a higher principle than success, and by this principle alone will I be guided."
"I humbly beg you," said the prince, "to consider the future advantage and greatness to be gained for your country, and not to forget that Prussia, with her power and her present political tendencies, is a dangerous and threatening neighbour to Hanover."
The king remained for some little time silent and thoughtful.
"My dear Karl," he then said, "be assured that everything that comes from the emperor shall receive my gravest consideration and hearty respect, and that, by giving me the happiness of seeing you as his messenger, he has strengthened still more my feelings of regard. I am always ready to show my enduring friendship to Austria and to the house of Hapsburg. But here--I must say it at once--principles enter into the question, which as the ruler of my country and a member of the German confederacy stand higher than all. At this moment I will give you no definite answer. You can remain here a few days?"
"A few days certainly," replied the prince; "the emperor awaits my return with anxiety, and I cannot stay long."
"I will not detain you long, and your proposals shall at once be laid before my ministers."
The king rang, and said to the attendant who appeared,
"If the gentlemen have breakfasted, beg them to come here."
Shortly afterwards Count Platen, General Brandis, and Bacmeister entered the room.
Prince Karl greeted them separately with great heartiness, and they all seated themselves around the king's writing-table.
George V. spoke:
"The situation we have just discussed is somewhat modified. My brother Karl is the bearer of a proposal from his imperial majesty of Austria of a distinct treaty of alliance under certain conditions. I beg you, my dear Karl, to recapitulate the conditions."
The prince repeated the points which he had previously named to the king.
Count Platen rubbed his hands together laughingly.
"Your majesty perceives," he said, in a low voice to the king, "we are wooed by both sides. What a favourable position our policy has secured!"
Bacmeister shook his head slowly, and twisted the thumbs of his folded hands, an expression of amused irony playing around his mouth.
"Your Highness," he said, "speaks of the important acquisitions of Hanover in case of victory. But what will happen--we must consider every side of the question--if Prussia should be the conqueror?"
"Under all circumstances the emperor guarantees to support Hanover," said the prince.
"How would his imperial majesty be able, if Austria were vanquished, to support Hanover against victorious Prussia?" asked Bacmeister.
"No discussion now, I beg, my dear minister," said the king.
"Gentlemen," he added, "you have heard the proposal. On this occasion I will depart from my usual custom, and at once tell you my views. I take up my position on the standing-point that a war between two members of the German confederacy is, according to the laws of that confederacy, impossible. Such a war, alas! can and may come upon us, like a convulsion of nature, or some scourge of God;--to contemplate it beforehand, to conclude treaties on the subject, I hold to be irreconcilable with my duty as a German prince. I should by such a treaty take part in the guilt of a rupture of the confederacy so blessed to Germany and the whole of Europe. Never, with my consent, shall Hanoverian troops fight against German soldiers, except from dire necessity.
"But there is another reason why I cannot subscribe to this treaty. I cannot consent to the eventual enlargement of Hanover; I cannot sign a treaty by which I stretch out my hand for my neighbour's goods. It is my joy and my pride that throughout the country I rule, there is not a foot's breadth of earth that has not descended to me by legitimate inheritance; shall I now sign a treaty for the acquisition of lands that do not belong to me? Westphalia belongs to the King of Prussia, with whom not only do I live in peace, but to whom, as a member of the confederacy, I regard my obligations as sacred. Holstein belongs by right I know not to whom--to the Grand Duke of Oldenburg, to the Duke of Augustenburg, to Prussia,--I cannot enter into the difficult subject,--certainly it does not belong to me. No, gentlemen, I cannot part with the happy knowledge that I hold my kingdom entirely from God's justice, and by God's grace: never," cried the king, striking his right hand upon the table, "will I stretch out this hand to take what is not mine. Hence, according to my views, the treaty proposed is inadmissible. A proposal, however, from his Imperial Majesty of Austria has an undoubted right to our gravest and most earnest consideration. I therefore beg each of you conscientiously to think through this subject, to weigh it deeply, and express all that can be said against my opinions. Not to-day, but to-morrow I will preside at a council of my assembled ministers, including your absent colleagues, in order to decide upon our answer. For to-day I thank you, I will let you know the hour of council for to-morrow."
The king rose.
With grave looks and in silence the ministers left the cabinet.
Prince Solms gazed sorrowfully before him.
"Am I right?" asked the king.
The prince looked at his royal brother with an expression of deep veneration.
"You are right," he said in a low tone, "and yet," he added, his eyes growing sadder and his head sinking down, "yet very, very wrong."
"Now, my dear Karl," said the king cheerfully, "you shall go out with me. I wish to go where you must be my guide."
He pressed on a second knob at the right hand side of his writing-table. The groom of the chambers of the private apartments appeared, from a door leading to the king's bed-room.
"I am going out," said the king, buttoning his uniform.
The attendant handed him his cap and gloves.
"Does your majesty wish for a cigar?"
"No. Inform the equerry on duty that I shall not want him. The prince will accompany me."
The king took the prince's arm and walked through the corridor, passing various bowing lacqueys in their scarlet livery, to the principal entrance. In the hall leading to the door an animated conversation was heard.
"Who is that?" asked the king.
"Count Alfred Wedell and Devrient."
The persons mentioned stood close together in the vestibule engaged in so engrossing a conversation that they did not perceive the king's approach.
Count Alfred Wedell, the king's chamberlain, and governor of the castle, was a tall, strongly-built young man of about thirty years of age, with a healthy complexion, and handsome, though decidedly marked features. He was in undress uniform, a blue coat with a red collar, and he stood opposite the famous Hanoverian actor, Devrient, a man well past sixty, who had taken part in the German wars for freedom, but who felt so little the burden of his years that he still played Hamlet with great success. Neither when off the stage did his animated face, his sparkling eyes, nor his upright figure, show any sign of age.
"Good morning, Devrient," said the king in his clear voice, stopping in the middle of the hall.
The gentlemen broke off their conversation, and Devrient hastened to the king.
"Well, how are you?" said George V. kindly. "Always fresh and active. Devrient is an example to us all," he said, turning to Prince Solms, "he has the secret of eternal youth."
"Your majesty," said Devrient, "the youth you so graciously ascribe to me has a behind the scenes. I am not always before the lamps, the gout is a very poor prompter. I came to beg your commands for the next rehearsal, but I see your majesty is going out."
"I am busy to-day, dear Devrient," said the king, "and to-morrow. Will you come to me the day after to-morrow?"
"At your command, your majesty."
And, with a friendly nod, the king went through the great entrance, both doors of which had been opened by the porter.
As they entered the courtyard of the castle, where the sentries on guard presented arms, Prince Karl asked:--
"Where are you going?"
"To the mausoleum," said the king.
Taking his brother's arm, he walked firmly and quickly through the castle courtyard.
Devrient turned to Count Wedell after he had watched the king for a moment.
"When I see our master walking thus, and when I think of the times in which we live, I could wish to conjure all the good angels of heaven to watch over his dear head. It does not please me," he added, gloomily, "to see him leaning on the arm of an Austrian general. God grant it may be no evil omen."
"You are incorrigible!" cried Count Wedell, "will you again rant on politics, and air your hatred against Austria? All Germany takes the emperor's side; shall the king sacrifice himself for Prussia?"
"I do not love the Austrian uniform," said Devrient, moodily.
"I wish we had thirty thousand of them here," cried Count Wedell; "I will remind you of to-day, Devrient, when the great victory is won, and when grateful Austria----"
"Gratitude from the House of Austria!" cried Devrient, with a theatrical tone and gesture; and without saying another word he put on his hat and rushed through the open door, along the broad alley which led from Herrenhausen to the city.
Count Wedell laughed, and shook his head as he retreated into the interior of the castle.
In a deep wood in the gardens of Herrenhausen is the tomb of King Ernest Augustus and Queen Frederica, similar to the mausoleum at Charlottenburg, where Frederick William III. of Prussia and Queen Louisa rest.
The king and queen lie chiselled in marble by a master's hand upon a sarcophagus, in a building resembling a temple, the light from above falling with wonderful effect upon the beautiful, lifelike figures. The building in its profound stillness and pious simplicity impresses the beholder with the full majesty of death, not to be felt without a shudder, but also with the perfect peace of eternal rest.
A single sentry stood before the entrance.
Four persons were leaving the mausoleum in silence, evidently impressed by the royal tomb. The castellan followed them.
Three of these persons were old acquaintances from Blechow--the pastor Berger, his daughter Helena, and the eldest son of Baron von Wendenstein. Their companion was a young man of about seven or eight and twenty, who was evidently a clergyman, from his plain black dress and white neck-tie; his smooth, fair hair hung low on his temples, and surrounded a round, shiny face, which was neither handsome nor interesting. His small grey eyes, partly concealed by eyelids habitually cast down, were quick and rather hard, and on his thin, firmly closed lips appeared an expression of self-satisfaction and ascetic assumption, which formed a remarkable contrast to the amiability and calm cheerfulness of old pastor Berger, who wore his usual dress--a closely buttoned black coat, and the square berretta of the Lutheran clergy.
The whole party advanced slowly up the wide avenue leading from the mausoleum to the park immediately surrounding the castle.
They had not gone far from the mausoleum, when they heard the sentinel present arms, and the castellan said in a low voice:--
"His majesty the king!"
George V. appeared from a side walk, leaning on the arm of Prince Solms.
The three gentlemen removed their hats, and they all respectfully stood still.
"They are acknowledging you," whispered the prince.
The king touched his cap.
"Who is it?" he asked.
"From his dress, a Lutheran clergyman," replied the prince.
The king stood still and exclaimed:
"Herr pastor!"
Pastor Berger walked up to him and said in a firm, clear voice,
"I salute most respectfully my royal master and supreme bishop!"
The king started when he heard his voice.
"Have I not met you formerly in Wendland?"
"It is too gracious of your majesty to remember it. I am the pastor Berger from Blechow."
"Quite right, quite right," exclaimed the king with satisfaction; "I remember the great pleasure your loyal reception gave me, and all the interesting things you told me of the customs of your people. How glad I am to meet you here! What brings you to Hanover?"
"Your majesty, my strength is not what it used to be, and I am obliged to think of procuring some assistance that my flock may not suffer from my increasing age. The service must not grow old and feeble. I therefore greatly wish my sister's son, the candidate Behrman, to be appointed as my adjunct, and, if God wills, my successor in my holy office. I came hither to make my request to the consistory."
"It is granted, my dear pastor," cried the king; "the qualifications of your nephew are doubtless correct, or you would not make the request. Your nephew is your adjunct. How happy I am to fulfil your wishes here and at once."
Touched and surprised, the pastor could only say: "I thank your majesty from my heart."
"And now, my dear pastor, I must take care that you are shown everything worth seeing in Hanover. Make yourself quite at home at the castle. To-morrow I shall expect you to dinner; come an hour beforehand. You must tell me much about my dear, faithful Wendland. Have you seen the park and the hot-houses?"
"We were on our way, your majesty. I have just left the mausoleum, and I am still deeply impressed. I lifted up my soul to God there, and prayed fervently that he would protect your majesty in these difficult and dangerous times."
The king looked very grave.
"Yes," he then said, "the days are dark and difficult, and we need God's blessing. I will do what you have done. I will pray at the grave of my parents for strength and wisdom. Farewell; we meet to-morrow."
And with a soldier's salute he turned away and walked towards the mausoleum.
Pastor Berger looked after him with great emotion; he raised his hand as if impelled by some unseen power, and he said in a clear voice, which resounded strangely through the wooded solitude:
"The Lord bless thee and keep thee! The Lord lift up the light of His countenance and be gracious unto thee! The Lord lift up the light of His countenance upon thee, and give thee peace! Amen!"
At the first words of this blessing, King George stood still and removed his cap. A deep feeling of devotion appeared in his face.
As the pastor's words ceased, he covered his head, greeted him by a silent movement of the hand, and slowly entered the quiet, simple building, which protected the last rest of his parents.
In the boudoir of the house in the Ringstrasse, where Lieutenant von Stielow had repaired after Count Mensdorff's soirée, the same wonderfully beautiful woman who had received him with such glowing passion lay stretched upon a couch.
She wore a pearl-grey morning dress with light rose-coloured ribbons, and a white lace handkerchief surrounded the fine oval of her face, and nearly concealed her glossy hair.
The morning sun streamed through the window hangings of her very elegantly furnished room. The reflections that played over her face at every movement were most becoming to the young lady's extreme loveliness, and apparently she knew it, for she glanced from time to time at a round mirror, which was so placed on the opposite wall as to show nearly the whole of her form, and she was careful not to withdraw the dark red cushion on which her head lightly rested, from the softened sunbeams.
Her features did not wear the enchanting expression of softness and enthusiasm with which she had received Lieutenant von Stielow; an icy coldness rested on her face, and a look of scorn played round the beautiful lips, which were slightly parted and showed her white teeth to be firmly closed.
Before her stood a man of about thirty, dressed with a much greater adherence to fashion than is usual amongst persons of real distinction. His features were not ugly, but they were common, and his appearance betokened a dissipated man of the second or perhaps third rank of society.
This man, who accorded so ill with the really elegant arrangements of the boudoir, and still less with the graceful and æsthetic beauty of the young lady installed there, was her husband, the merchant and exchange agent, Balzer.
The conjugal tête-à-tête did not appear to be of an agreeable nature, for the husband's face bore evident traces of anger and scornful irony.
"You know me," he said, in a rough voice, which betrayed too great an indulgence in stimulants, and nightly dissipation, and in the rude manner only found amongst uneducated persons, destitute of good breeding. "You know me and you know I will have my wishes attended to. I must have twelve hundred gulden, and have them by to-morrow," he cried, stamping with his foot on the ground.
The young lady played with a bow on her dress; its rosy colour was not softer nor brighter than her small finger tips, and she replied without altering her position or looking at her husband, in an almost hissing voice:--
"Then gamble luckily, or cheat some of the people who trust you with their business on the Bourse."
"Your sneers are lost upon me," he said, with feigned indifference; "I believe we may both spare ourselves the trouble of displaying our wit. I am practical, and above all things a man of business," he added, with a cruel laugh; "you know our compact, and you know under what conditions I, your rightful lord and master, shut my eyes to proceedings to which I might strongly object--if some day it should please me to do so."
She did not move a muscle, but the slight blush which passed over her beautiful white brow, showed some inward emotion.
Without in the least modifying her tone, she said coldly:--
"You also know how easy it would be for me to free myself from the chains with which you threaten me. You must know me well enough to feel sure that my conversion to Protestantism would not give me a moment's uneasiness, if I wished to obtain a separation."
"I do not think religious compunctions would ever trouble you," he said, scornfully.
"Well, then," she said, calmly, without looking up, "I only continue to endure this heavy chain, because I wish to avoid scandal, and because I do not wish a creature"--and this she said with unbounded contempt--"whose name I bear, to fall into the lowest depths of vulgar crime. These are my only reasons for enduring and maintaining you. Take care of making the chain heavier than it is. As to what you are pleased to term our compact, on my side it has been punctually fulfilled. Have you not regularly received what I promised you?"
"I am not talking about that," replied Herr Balzer, rudely; "I am saying what I want, to meet unavoidable debts, and I must have twelve hundred gulden and you must get them for me,--you can do it easily. Your little Uhlan lieutenant is an inexhaustible gold-mine," he continued, with a low laugh.
"I am sorry," she replied, coldly, "that you require another gold-mine."
"You wish to avoid scandal, as you said just now. Eh bien! I will arrange a fine scandal for you as soon as he comes."
"Such a scandal," she said, smiling, "would cause you to be kicked down-stairs, neither would you ever receive another kreutzer from me."
He was silent for a moment, her simple logic seemed to make some impression upon him. But after a short time he came a step or two nearer to her; a horrible smile played round his mouth, and spiteful satisfaction shone in his eyes.
"You are right," he said, "such a scandal would be aimless. But since your dear Herr von Stielow is so ungenerous, I shall take care that you break with such a sterile friend, and turn to others who bear more of the golden fruit. Herr von Stielow shall be freed from the sweet chains in which you hold him captive. I am sorry to give pain, for it seems as if this little Uhlan had somewhat touched the hitherto icy heart of my wife. But what must be, must--business first and pleasure afterwards."
Her slender fingers trembled slightly, but she grasped the ribbons she held firmly, and for the first time during the conversation she raised her dark eyes. She flashed a piercing look at her husband; he perceived it, and smiled triumphantly.
She cast down her eyes again and said with a slight vibration in her voice:
"You are at liberty to do what you like."
"Of course," he replied, "and I shall act with great prudence and avoid all scandal. I am sure it will be very interesting to Herr von Stielow to compare the exercises of style which, he receives from the lady of his heart, with those she sends at the same time to earlier and absent friends."
"What do you mean?" she asked quickly. She raised her head from the crimson cushion and gazed full at her husband.
"I mean," he replied brutally, "that I shall send Herr von Stielow one of Count Rivero's letters to you, and your answer. Though husbands are sometimes indifferent to these little eccentricities, lovers are apt to be more punctilious."
She pressed the rosy nails into her tender hands, and looked thoughtfully before her for a moment.
"Where are the letters of which you speak?" she asked coldly.
"Quite safe," he replied laconically.
"I do not believe you; how came you by a letter from me to the Count?"
"You were in the act of answering him. His letter and your reply lay on the table, when you had hastily to receive your dear Stielow, and you threw your shawl over them. You forgot them, and when I paid my dear wife a visit, I took them that they might not fall into improper hands." He said this with a scornful laugh.
"In fact, you stole them?" she said contemptuously.
"We are discussing the seventh commandment, not the eighth," he said rudely.
"I must pay for my carelessness," she muttered to herself. Then raising her eyes, with icy coldness she said:--
"You shall have the twelve hundred gulden to-morrow morning in exchange for the stolen letters."
"I will be here punctually at the same hour to-morrow," he replied in a satisfied tone. "Has my charming wife any other commands?"
She raised a finger and pointed to the door.
At the same moment a bell was heard.
"Herr von Stielow!" exclaimed the waiting-maid as she entered. The clatter of a sword was heard in the ante-room.
"A good business and much pleasure!" cried Herr Balzer, as he departed by a side door.
Scarcely had he left the room, when the young lady's expression changed as if by magic. All the hard sharp lines, which had caused her face during her conversation with her husband to look like a beautiful waxen mask, disappeared, the clenched teeth were parted, and the eyes gained a magnetic brilliance, which gave them a magical charm.
She half rose and stretched out her arms.
Herr von Stielow, fresh, bold, and elegant as ever, hastened to her; he seemed for a moment dazzled by her beauty, then he bent over her and pressed his lips upon her mouth.
She wound her arms around his neck, and breathed rather than said, "My sweet friend!"
After a long embrace he drew a low chair towards the couch on which she lay, so that their heads were on the same level. She altered her position with a slight graceful movement and placed her head upon his shoulder, then taking his right hand in both her own she pressed it to her heart. Whilst her gentle snakelike movements took her nearer and nearer to him, she closed her eyes and murmured:--
"Ah! how happy I am!"
The two beautiful and graceful young creatures formed an exquisite and poetic picture; with all their trembling passion there was no sign of vulgar or ignoble feeling,--it seemed a picture of a pure and happy love.
The face of the beautiful woman showed no trace of the scene she had just taken part in, in that very room, and no one could have thought, had they looked at the young man as he pressed his lips against the perfumed hair of the head resting on his shoulder, that notwithstanding the enchanted mist that surrounded him, a purer star was shining ever brighter for his heart.
It was a picture of the present, of a happy fleeting moment, enjoyed without a thought of what went before, of what must follow.
A deep sigh heaved her breast and trembled through her form as she leant against her lover.
"Why do you sigh? my sweet Tonia. What happiness is wanting to her who is created to give happiness?"
"Oh! my beloved," she said, and a second sigh trembled from her lips, "I am not always so happy as now, when I rest on your breast, and just before--" she hesitated.
"What happened just before?" he asked, "to make those lovely lips twice sigh, though formed only for smiles and kisses?"
And he slightly raised her head and pressed his lips to hers.
"My husband was here," she said, sighing the third time.
"Ah!" he said, "and what did the fellow want who calls such a flower his own, and knows not how to enjoy its fragrance?"
"For him it never shall be fragrant," she said with a vibration in her voice, which recalled the previous scene. "He tormented me," she continued, "with reproofs--with jealousy."
She stammered, then she raised the beautiful head from his shoulder, slipped back a little and replaced it on her crimson cushion, but she still retained his hand.
"Before," she said, "when he used to reproach me, and act Othello, because this or that gentleman looked at me too often, or another had smiled when he saw me, I was quite indifferent; I despised it all, and answered without my heart beating faster, or my eyes being cast down, but now," she added, tears coming to the eyes she rested on him, and the rosy ribbons on her breast rising and falling quickly from her emotion, "now I tremble; I wish to hide my eyes with a thick veil; my heart beats fast, as the blood throbs through my veins, for--"
Again she threw herself into his arms, leant her head as if exhausted on his breast and whispered,
"For now I love!"
He bent over her and pressed her to himself.
"And do you repent it?"
"No," she replied passionately; "but it humbles me when I remember that he is still my husband, on whom I am dependent--dependent," she stammered, in a low voice, "in all material things; and he makes me feel this dependence--feel it bitterly."
"And why," he interrupted, "should you be dependent upon him? Why remember such dependence for a moment? Have you not a friend, a slave, who would be too happy if you would but tell him what you want, all that you wish?"
"Ah! I want so little; but he denies me everything!" she said.
"Poor Tonia!" he cried; "is it possible those lips have ever framed a wish in vain?"
He put her hand to his lips.
"What was it, what did he deny you?"
"Oh!" she cried sadly, "that I should profane the sweet hours of our love--leave it--it is already forgotten!" and she sighed again.
"It cannot be forgotten until you have told me. I beg you, if you love me, tell me what vexes you, that this melancholy may all be driven away."
"He was angry with me," she replied, without raising her eyes, "about my dressmaker's bill, and positively refused his assistance; and," she said with animation, "such troubles torment me so, these things suit neither my head nor my heart--where one thought alone, one feeling reigns."
"Only one word more," cried he cheerfully, "the amount of the wretched bill, that so presumptuously seeks to share with me this lovely head, this sweetest heart."
"Two thousand gulden," she whispered.
"What economy!" he cried; "yet your perfect beauty does not need the aid of dress. I humbly beg to be allowed to chase this cloud from the bright eyes I love."
And he kissed her on both eyes.
She hastily pressed her lips on his hand.
"That I must receive, always receive!" she cried. "Oh! that I were a queen, and you poor and unknown, that I might shed rays of splendour and happiness over you, and, preferring you among a thousand, might draw you up the golden steps of my throne!"
She had risen, and she now sat with a really royal dignity. Her eyes shone with dark fire, and as she slightly raised her hand, a man had sworn that at a sign from that fair hand, armies would march and a thousand courtiers kneel in the dust. Then she cast down her eyes and said in gentle melting tones,--
"I have nothing to give but my love!"
"And more I do not wish for, from my queen!" he cried, rising from his low chair and sinking on his knees, whilst looking up at her with glowing eyes.
She took his head in both her hands and pressed a long kiss upon his brow.
Suddenly the sound of a bell rang through the room.
A noise was heard in the ante-room.
The servant entered hastily, and cried, more as if giving an alarm than making an announcement: "The Count Rivero!"
The young lady rose hastily. Roughly and vehemently she pushed Herr von Stielow back into his chair.
Her face was very pale.
Stielow looked at her with amazement.
"Decline this ill-timed visit," he whispered.
"It is an old acquaintance, whom I have not seen for a long time," she said in a constrained voice, "it is--"
Before she could conclude, the portière of the anteroom was pushed aside and a tall distinguished-looking man of about five-and-thirty entered; his dress was dark in colour, his face was noble, with regular features and the clear pale complexion of the South, his large dark eyes were surpassed in depth of colour only by the blackness of his short hair and moustache.
Count Rivero approached the young lady of the house with the quiet self-possession of a perfect man of the world, whilst his dark eyes shone with a warmer glow.
She offered him her hand, he took it and pressed it to his lips for a longer time than politeness alone required.
This did not escape Herr von Stielow, whose astonishment began to partake of mistrust.
"From a sudden change in my affairs, I am able quite suddenly and unexpectedly to return here much sooner than I expected, and to have the pleasure of again meeting my friends in Vienna. My first greeting naturally is to you, fair lady, the loveliest flower in the wreath of my recollections of Vienna."
He again pressed to his lips the tender hand he had retained in his own, and he then seated himself in an arm-chair, whilst, with a slight bow to Herr von Stielow, he cast a look of enquiry at the lady.
She had completely recovered from the disquiet and painful surprise which the count's arrival had caused. Her eyes were bright, her lips smiled, and a faint rosy tinge was seen on her cheeks. In a light graceful way she said:
"Ah! gentlemen, you are strangers. Herr von Stielow--the rest is told by his uniform--a worthy member of our jeunesse dorée, who was just in the act of telling me the latest news of the fashionable world; Count Rivero, a traveller, a man of learning, a diplomat--according to his whim--he has just come from Rome, and will tell me all about the carnival, or the catacombs, I know not to which scene his heart may have inclined him."
The two gentlemen bowed, Count Rivero coldly, but with the perfect politeness of a man of the world, Herr von Stielow with scarcely concealed dislike.
"My heart," said the count, turning with a smile to the young lady, "has neither the superabundant mirth of the carnival, nor is it yet ripe for the catacombs, but my fair friend loves always to ascribe to me extremes."
"You have not been in Vienna for some time, count?" asked Herr von Stielow coldly.
"My affairs have kept me in Rome for a year," replied the count, "and I thought I should have stayed there still longer, but necessary business has recalled me here. And I am thankful to necessity," he added, glancing at the lady, "for leading me back to my friends in beautiful merry Vienna."
She threw a rapid glance at Herr von Stielow who sat biting his moustache, and her lips trembled slightly. Then she said laughingly:
"And what will you tell me of, count, since neither the carnival nor the catacombs have interested you?"
"Of the beautiful antique statues," he replied, "those pictures in marble a thousand years old, yet offering us the image of living youth."
"In Vienna you will find no taste for the antique," said Herr von Stielow, in a voice which caused the count to look up in surprise, "the world here does not care for the past, but holds only to the present."
"The world is wrong," said the count coldly, a proud smile playing around his mouth, "the past has depth, the present is shallow."
Herr von Stielow frowned. The lady gave him an imploring look but he did not perceive it.
"The past is often tedious," said the officer shortly.
The count appeared to find his manner disagreeable, he answered curtly, "And the present often very dull."
Herr von Stielow's eyes flashed.
The count rose.
"My beautiful friend," he said, "I am rejoiced to find you so blooming and unchanged. I will see you again soon, and I hope I may find a time when we can talk undisturbed, and I can tell you of Rome and the past without fearing to be tedious."
He kissed her hand, bowed almost imperceptibly to Herr von Stielow, and left the room.
Herr von Stielow sprang up, seized his cap, and prepared to follow him.
The young lady caught his hand and cried: "Karl, I implore you to hear me!" He tore his hand away with an impatient movement, and hurried after the count.
She looked after him with staring eyes and outstretched hands.
She seemed to wish to follow him, but she stood still, her hands sank slowly, and her head drooped on her breast. So she remained for some moments, and the only sound was her sobbing breath.
"That has occurred which I hoped to avoid," she said to herself in a low voice, "I can do nothing, I cannot interfere, without making the evil worse. They will fight--and how will it end? Shall I lose them both? The count is needful---needful for the future of which I dream--he loves me not; oh! no--but he requires me for his plans, I feel that, and through him I can reach what I thirst after--power, influence, rule. And this young officer, what can he be to me, what can he offer me? he is rich," she whispered, "but what is that? and yet, and yet," she cried aloud, "would I could tightly grasp him, cling to his beautiful head, and draw him back from danger."
"Antonia, Antonia!" she said, suddenly growing cold and hard as she raised her head, "your heart is not dead, you are about to be a slave!"
She shook her head as if to dispel a dream. A look of defiance came to her lips, she drew up her slender form, and her eyes were widely opened in flaming energy.
"No!" she cried, "no, I will not be a slave, not even to my own heart. I will rule--rule--rule," she repeated, her voice growing lower and lower, but firmer and more determined.
Suddenly the violent constraint gave way, her limbs failed and she sank upon her couch, her lovely hands were crossed upon her breast, her head fell languidly upon the cushion, and whilst her eyes were veiled with tears, she whispered with trembling lips:
"Oh, he was so beautiful!"
And she seemed to sink into dreamy unconsciousness.
Herr von Stielow overtook the count as he was going down the steps.
"I did not answer your last remark, count," he said, "because my reply would not have been seemly in a lady's presence. You appear to wish to lecture me, and my name as well as the uniform I wear, ought to tell you, that I will be lectured by no one, at least not by strangers."
The count stood still.
"It seems, sir," he said, "that you wish to quarrel with me."
"And if I do?" cried the young officer boiling over.
"You are much mistaken," replied the count.
"I cannot be mistaken in punishing insolence," cried the young officer, who grew more excited from the count's calmness.
"Very well, sir," said the latter, "I believe we had better cease talking, and leave further arrangements to our seconds."
"I like haste and punctuality in these matters," cried Herr von Stielow.
He handed the count a card.
"I shall wait at home for your second."
"I have nothing to prevent my settling the affair at once," said the count.
And bowing coldly they parted.