The Youth of the Great Elector Part 63

"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 Furstenwald, 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 pa.s.sion 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 n.o.ble, 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 const.i.tuting 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 t.i.tles, 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 amba.s.sador 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 pa.s.sionate 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."

She gave him a long, cold look. "And if I decline your hand, you will revenge yourself, will you not, by displaying my note to the Emperor and the whole world, you will defame me and all my house? Was not that your threat?"

"I spoke in frenzy, in despair. But you shall see that I will ask nothing from you for fear, but all for love. See, here is the note. I have hitherto preserved it as my most precious jewel; my father bade me do so, and told me that this paper might save me in the hour of greatest peril.

This hour is now at hand, but I will not have it save me. Here is the note; I offer it to you. Take it, tear it up, and then decide!"