Prince Eugene and His Times Part 72

"You a general's commission! You that were once publicly disgraced by--"

"Your marriage has long ago consoled me for that trifling mishap,"

interrupted Barbesieur, "and in Paris n.o.body has ever presumed to think less of me on account of it. I think that, in every way, the sufferer there from was the valiant Eugene. And, by-the-by, that leads directly to the business that brought me hither. That Emperor of Austria has been entirely too lucky in war to please the King of France; and Max Emmanuel, whom we had expected to win over to our side, is the commander-in-chief of the imperial armies. Max--your quasi brother-in-law, Strozzi; for doubtless you are aware that Lucretia, the left-handed electress, is the first person in importance at the Bavarian court."

"May she be d.a.m.ned for it!" muttered Strozzi, between his teeth.

"Not on her head as much as on yours rests the shame of Lucretia's act," said Laura, reproachfully.

"Ah!" cried Strozzi, a gleam of joy darting athwart his meagre face, "you acknowledge, then, that a woman is disgraced who loves a man whom she cannot marry!"

"A truce to this nonsense, my turtle-doves," interposed Barbesieur.

"I bring you tidings which henceforth render such discussions superfluous. Listen to me, both of you. My father has sent me a bit of news which, coming direct from the Marquis do Villars--that is, from Munich--is positive and authentic. Here it is."

Laura turned away her head that they might not see her emotion, while Strozzi besought Barbesieur not to be so long-winded.

"Well, I will gratify you both. Belgrade is taken; Prince Eugene, as usual, was foremost in the fight; but unhappily for some people, and happily for others--"

Here Barbesieur paused to enjoy the agony of his sister's suspense.

Her face he could not see, but her trembling figure gave evidence of the poignancy of her anguish.

"Well--" said Strozzi, "what befell him?"

"Something not at all uncommon--he was killed."

Laura turned quickly around and caught the diabolical glance of Barbesieur's eyes. "I--I do not believe it," murmured she.

"Did you say that you had the original letter from the Marquis?"

asked Strozzi, eagerly.

"Yes, here it is; the marchioness can see for herself."

Laura took the paper and glanced hurriedly over its contents. She raised her eyes to heaven in thanksgiving. "He is not dead," said she, almost inaudibly.

"Then you have read very carelessly," returned Barbesieur. "The letter says, 'so dangerously wounded that he was transported in a dying condition to Vienna,'"

"Had he been dying, he would not have been transported to Vienna,"

exclaimed Laura, with a smile of returning hope. "No, no! Had Eugene been dead, the air I breathe, the clouds that I watch as they pa.s.s by yonder grated windows--my heart, whose beatings are responsive to his--every thing in nature would have revealed the terrible truth.

Eugene lives--and lives to fulfil his great and glorious destiny.

Pardon me, O Lord, that, for a moment, my faith was weak!"

She looked so transcendently lovely as she spoke, that Strozzi's heart sank within him. He turned his face away, and groaned.

"My charming sister is easily consoled, you perceive," said Barbesieur to Strozzi. "And now that, according to her own interpretation of the marriage ceremony, she is widowed, I hope to hear before long that you have effectually dried up her tears. Come- -let us leave this hopeful widow to herself."

"I come," replied Strozzi, "for you must take some refreshment before you go. Until the hour of dinner I take my leave, marchioness."

"Marquis," said Laura, following him to the door.

Strozzi dropped Barbesieur's arm, and returned to her at once.

"You have something to command?" said he, humbly.

"I do not wish to dine to-day," said she. "It will be useless, then, for you to return."

"I cannot deny myself that pleasure," was the reply.

Laura constrained herself to soften her tone, and to implore. "Only this one day," said she, in trembling tones. "I need repose--quiet-- "

"To weep out the first pangs of widowhood," interrupted Barbesieur, with one of his coa.r.s.e laughs. "Come, Strozzi--let her cry it out to-day, she will be all the more smiling for it to-morrow."

"Then as you please," said Strozzi, bowing respectfully. "I will not return until to-morrow before noon."

"Tell my turnkeys that they need not disturb me," said Laura. "Let me be veritably and entirely alone."

"You cannot dispense with their help," objected the marquis.

"I can and will dispense with their presence," returned Laura. "And may I ask of you, as a guaranty that I shall not be disturbed, to leave the keys inside? The bolts without are secure, and the women can watch by the doors to see that I do not attempt to escape."

"Your will shall be my law, to-day," said Strozzi, "for I am but its slave. When will you reward my love--when, Laura?"

"Leave me, I implore you," was the faltering reply of his stricken, wife; "leave me for this one day!"

"I will," cried Strozzi, casting pa.s.sionate glances at her, "but to- morrow?"

"To-morrow," replied Laura, solemnly, "to-morrow is in the hands of G.o.d!"

"There, now," exclaimed Barbesieur, "she is making promises already.

Come along--I am really hungry."

The voice of Strozzi was heard in the anteroom, and in a few moments Carlotta removed the key to the inside. With one bound Laura reached the door, and fastened it within. Then crossing the parlor, she locked herself within her boudoir, and, falling on her knees, besought the blessing of G.o.d upon her flight--for she was resolved to fly that very night.

CHAPTER VI.

THE FLIGHT.

For one year--from the day of her meeting with Eugene--Laura had been revolving in her mind the possibility of escape, and again and again had she been compelled to acknowledge that escape was impossible. At night, lest sleep should overpower their senses, her untiring spies had barred the doors that led from the anteroom with their beds. Sometimes Laura had proposed to bribe them; but in the event of success with the women, a watchman kept guard at the head of the staircase; and at the entrance of the castle was stationed a porter, whom no one could pa.s.s without the watchword. If all these obstacles had been overcome, and the prisoner had found egress to the park, she was met by four watchmen, whom neither promises nor bribery had power to conciliate. These were four bloodhounds who were loosed at night by the marquis's own hands, and on whose fidelity he knew that he might count.

Flight through the doors was out of the question; flight from the windows, had they been free, was equally so; for whoever had dared their dangerous descent, would have been devoured the very moment he touched the ground below.

Plan after plan was made and rejected, and yet she must--she would escape.

In her parlor was one of those large chimneys found in old castles, chimneys that were intended to consume an entire load of wood at once. On one occasion, Strozzi being present at the time, a chimney- sweep went up its grimy walls, to cleanse them from the acc.u.mulated soot of the winter. Strozzi, forgetting that the sweep had to return, began to make declarations to Laura, and finally became so lovelorn as to throw himself at her feet. He was on his knees, whining for forgiveness, when the little sweep, like a deus ex machina, alighted suddenly in the middle of the hearth, and surprised him in his abject and ridiculous posture.

Laura laughed outright; but the marquis, of course, did not share her mirth. He turned furiously upon the sweep, threatening to take his life for his impertinent intrusion. The poor fellow pleaded the impossibility of getting out by any other means, when the marquis, stamping his foot with rage, bade him begone up the chimney, and ordered him to find his way over the castle-roof to another chimney at the farthest extremity of the building, which led into an ancient b.u.t.tery, and thence to the park.