Prince Eugene and His Times Part 109

She crossed the room, and, as she entered the antechamber, Louvois swooned, and fell upon the floor.

"Go to your lord," said Olympia to the valets who were waiting. "The bandage has become loosened, and he will bleed to death if you are not prompt."

Crossing the antechamber, she opened the door that led to a corridor where her own valet was awaiting her return.

"Can you tell me where I may find Count Barbesieur?" asked she.

"Yes, my lady. He is in his own room, to which I was directed by his valet."

"Show me the way," said the countess, following the man to the farther end of the long corridor.

"Here, my lady," said he, pausing, "is his anteroom."

"Go in and announce me."

The valet opened the door and crossed the antechamber. It was empty; for Barbesieur's valet was, with the other servants, in the vestibule, discussing the mysteries of the evening. Seeing that no one was there to announce the countess, the lackey knocked until he heard a voice from within. He then threw the door wide open, and cried out--

"The Countess de Soissons!"

Barbesieur, who was seated before a table, deep in the examination of the t.i.tle-deeds of the Bonaletta estates, started up in amazement at the unceremonious interruption. As he turned around to chastise the insolence of the servant, he encountered the stately figure of the Countess de Soissons,

"It is long since we met," said she. "Do you remember the occasion of our meeting?"

"No, countess," replied he, awed by her queenly bearing into momentary courtesy.

"I will refresh your memory. When last I saw you, you were at the head of the rabble that mobbed the Palace de Soissons, and had just received a wound in your arm from the pistol of my son, Prince Eugene. I had not the satisfaction of being present at the horsewhipping he administered to you at Long Champs, for I was obliged to fly from your persecutions, and I have never set foot in France until now."

Barbesieur laughed. "I have had my revenge. I owe him nothing. The very grief that is sapping his life at this moment is the work of my hand."

"I know it, and I, in my turn, have avenged his woes."

"You must have done it secretly, then, for I have never felt any inconvenience from your vengeance."

"You will experience it before long. Did one of your servants bring you a fine peach on a salver, about half an hour ago?"

Barbesieur turned very pale, and stammered, "Yes."

"Did you eat it?"

"Yes," murmured he, "I did."

"Then, Barbesieur, that peach avenged Eugene and Laura both. I sent it to you."

"You!" cried Barbesieur, with a shudder.

"Yes," replied Olympia, her black eyes darting fire as she spoke. "I sent you the peach, and if you have eaten it (it will be very slow in its effects), you have just four years longer to live!"

As he heard these terrible words, Barbesieur dropped, like a felled ox, to the floor.

"Count Barbesieur," cried a voice in the antechamber, "your father is dying of apoplexy."

Barbesieur started up with an oath, and darted from the room. The Countess de Soissons followed him to the corridor. No one was there, for the servants had all congregated, as near as possible, to the chamber of the dying statesman. Olympia pa.s.sed on, unchallenged, reached her carriage, and set off at full gallop for Nice.

She found Eugene improved, and sitting up. He was in his arm-chair, gazing with tearful eyes at a portrait opposite--a portrait of Laura, as Sister Angelica. His thoughts were so far, far away from the weary present, that the door had opened, and his mother had put her arms around his neck, before he became aware of her entrance.

"Eugene, my beloved son," said she, "I have avenged you."

"Avenged? Dear mother, what can you mean?"

"I mean that Louvois is dead--dead of humiliation. And that Barbesieur lives; but lives in the knowledge that, in four years, he must die. His life, then, unto the bitter end, will be one long agony. Eugene, you avenged my wrongs. I have now paid the debt."

Eugene sighed heavily. "You have erred, mother. You should have left further vengeance to G.o.d. What does it profit me that Barbesieur suffers--his sufferings cannot recall my Laura."

"Ah," said Olympia, disappointed, "if you were in health, you would not be so pusillanimous, my child. 'Tis easy to see that you are sick."

"No, mother, I am no longer sick. At Laura's command, I have wrestled with bodily weakness, and have overcome it."

"I do not understand you, my son."

Eugene pointed to the figure of Doctor Franzi, who just then entered the room. "Listen, mother, and you will understand."

The doctor advanced, and, taking Eugene's extended hand, repeated Laura's dying words. Eugene looked at his mother, and smiled.

"This message has been the medicine that has restored me to health.

My Laura speaks from beyond the grave, and I must obey."

"Who but a hero could have obeyed a mandate at once so loving and so cruel!" exclaimed Doctor Franzi. "Countess, I am rejoiced to see you, but more especially rejoice that you should have arrived to- day."

"I travelled night and day to return in time," said Olympia, looking fondly at her son.

"Is it a festival?" asked he.

"Yes, dear child," replied his mother, kissing him, "It is your thirtieth birth-day."

"My thirtieth birth-day!" murmured Eugene. "My youth is no more; I enter upon the stern epoch of mature manhood."

"Youth, with its sweet visions of love, has pa.s.sed away; but manhood will indemnify you, prince, for the sorrows of the past. Before you lies a future of usefulness and heroism.--Congratulate your son, countess, for he yesterday received from the Emperor Leopold the chief command of his armies in Italy. The troops are on their way now, to greet their general. Hark I Do you not hear the drums? Every brave heart in the army is beating with joy at the prospect of seeing him again."

"And I, too, am joyful at the antic.i.p.ation," replied Eugene, rising from his chair. "You are right, Franzi. I have been sorely grieved, 'tis true; but I bear about my heart the knowledge of my Laura's love--as veritable now as when I saw and felt her mortal presence.

This blessing shall make me a hero. So help me G.o.d! I will strive hereafter to do my duty as a man, a soldier, and a Christian."

The drums rolled, the trumpets sounded, and thousands of voices responded without:

"Long live our general! Long live Prince Eugene!"

THE END.