For Sceptre and Crown Volume II Part 56

"See," said Knaak, "there is our friend Stielow and his beautiful fiancee."

And he pointed out an elegant open carriage which drove slowly along the broad alley. Countess Frankenstein and her daughter sat facing the horses, Lieutenant von Stielow in his rich Uhlan uniform opposite to them. His face beamed with happiness as he talked to the young countess, and pointed out to her the different encampments in the park.

"A handsome pair," said old Grois benevolently, as he looked at the two smiling young creatures.

"Oh! that it may remain green for ever! the lovely period of youthful love!" exclaimed the Gallmeyer. "That is what my friend Wolter would say," she added laughingly; "but I am very angry with him, for I made him a declaration of love, and he despised me; but I shall console myself!"

They pa.s.sed on.

The countess's carriage, when it had left the thick throng of pedestrians behind it, drove rapidly towards the town.

At that time long trains, filled with sick and wounded, arrived daily at the northern station; they were brought from the bandaging sheds and field hospitals, to Vienna and other places more in the interior, that they might receive more regular nursing.

The rooms belonging to the station were fitted up for the reception of the wounded; many arrived in so weak a condition that they could not be moved immediately, nearly all required to rest for a time, and the further transport had to be arranged.

It was the regular custom of the ladies of Vienna in every grade, from the highest aristocracy to the simple shopkeeper's wife, to go to the railway station when such a train arrived, to refresh the wounded with cooling drinks and light nourishment, to have linen and lint ready, and to a.s.sist the surgeons as far as they could in any needful operation, or fresh bandaging. Here was richly shown that beautiful, truly patriotic spirit of self-denial, so abundant in the Austrian people, that spirit which the imperial government so frequently misunderstood, so frequently repressed; but which it scarcely ever directed aright in its lively desire to benefit the whole nation.

"Some wounded soldiers are coming in," said the young Countess Frankenstein to her mother, as the carriage arrived at the end of the Prater, and drew near the northern railway station; "shall we not go? I have brought some bandages, some raspberry vinegar, and some wine. I want," she said, turning to her lover with a charming smile, "to help all the poor wounded soldiers that I can, to show my grat.i.tude to G.o.d for helping me so graciously in my own trouble and sorrow."

Stielow affectionately pressed her hand and looked with admiration at her lovely, blus.h.i.+ng face.

"I thank you for recollecting it," said the countess; "we can never do enough for those who fight and suffer for their country, and we ought to set an example to the cla.s.ses beneath us."

"I must beg you to excuse me," said von Stielow, looking at his watch, "I must wait on General Gablenz and hear if he has any commands for me."

Clara looked disappointed.

"But in the evening you will be free?" she asked.

"I certainly hope so," said the young man, "for there is now little for the aides-de-camp to do."

The carriage had reached the railway station. At a sign from the lieutenant it drew up at the entrance.

"We shall meet again then," said Countess Frankenstein to Herr von Stielow, who took leave of the ladies, and Clara's looks said plainer than words: "We shall soon meet again."

The footman sprang from the box, opened the carriage-door, took a basket from the boot, and followed the ladies into the interior of the station.

It presented a touching, grave, and melancholy picture; but at the same time much that was pleasing and affecting.

Field-beds and litters stood close together in long rows, on which lay wounded, sick, and dying soldiers belonging to every branch of the service, Prussian as well as Austrian. Some bore their sufferings in mute resignation, others sighed and groaned from the horrible tortures that they endured.

The surgeons walked amongst them, examining into the condition of the new arrivals, giving orders where they were to be taken, according to the nature of their wounds, and the hopes they entertained of their recovery. The bandages were renewed before further transport, medicine and refreshment were administered, and operations immediately needful were performed in cabinets erected for the purpose and prepared beforehand. All this was sad and distressing; those who had seen the proud regiments set out, the eyes of the soldiers flas.h.i.+ng at the blast of the trumpet, and who now saw the broken suffering forms brought back from the battle-field, where the sacrifice of their blood had not obtained victory for the banners of their country, might indeed sigh sorrowfully, as they thought that the boasted civilization of the human race, with all its progress, had not as yet banished cruel and murderous war from the face of the earth; war, that scourge of mankind, as cruel now as in the grey ages of antiquity, only with this difference, that the inventive powers of man have discovered more certain and annihilating weapons.

Beside the surgeons who examined the wounds with the cold looks of science, were seen the sisters of mercy, those unwearied priestesses of Christian love: calmly and without a sound they glided between the beds, sometimes with gentle hand a.s.sisting in the placing of a bandage, sometimes with a kind consoling word putting to the pale dry lips some cooling drink, or strengthening medicine.

And everywhere amongst the busy groups were seen the beautiful and graceful ladies of Vienna, especially the ladies of the higher aristocracy, offering the sick refreshments, handing the surgeons linen bandages, and calling up a smile upon some sad suffering face.

They did not a.s.sist much, it is true, these self-const.i.tuted Samaritans, whom the love of their country moved to aid in the care of her wounded soldiers, but the sight of them did endless good to the sick and suffering; they felt that in their tenderness there was an acknowledgment of their pain and sacrifices; many of the eyes, misled by fever, believed they saw in the forms around them a sister or a sweetheart, and the vacant weary looks lighted up, the pale quivering lip gently smiled at the kind hands which thus performed the n.o.blest work of woman--alleviating pain and soothing suffering.

So they brought pleasure and consolation to the poor wounded men, these willing nurses; though the surgeons sometimes said they were in the way; but surgeons reckon without that muscle of the heart which drives the blood streaming through the veins, not to be found by the scalpel in an anatomical examination of the human heart, with all its abysses of grief, and its tender fragrant flowers of joy; they know not its power and yet it often puts their art to shame.

The Countess Frankenstein and her daughter were soon surrounded by several ladies of the first society, and with them they began their round amongst the wounded.

Amongst the numerous women who were a.s.sembled here, and who it might almost be said followed the fas.h.i.+on of nursing the sick, if indeed such a word ought to be applied to so good and blessed an employment, which was generally engaged in from the n.o.blest motives, was the beautiful Madame Balzer.

Dressed in the plainest dark grey toilette, a small basket containing bandages and nourishment upon her arm, she had followed one of the surgeons and a.s.sisted him with such skill that he had thanked her, surprised that it was apparently a lady of distinction and not a sister of mercy who had aided him so efficiently. She looked wonderfully beautiful in her simple dress, with her pale perfect features; from the unusual gracefulness of her movements, and the gentle self-possession with which she approached the beds of the sufferers, a stranger would have thought that amongst all these distinguished ladies of Vienna she was the most distinguished. These ladies, however, did not know her; several of them enquired who that lovely graceful person was, but no one could reply, for in Vienna there is not that public life which in Paris gives to the ladies of the great world the opportunity of knowing perfectly well by sight, their imitators or their models in doubtful society. The name of Madame Balzer was known to many of these ladies, she was frequently the subject of conversation in the _salons_ of Vienna; but only a few of them had seen her, for she went out of doors but little and always rigorously observed _les convenances_.

She pa.s.sed along by the beds of the wounded soldiers administering comfort and refreshment; at last she reached the end of a long row, and saw a litter standing at some little distance, on which a soldier lay stretched.

She went up to him and bent slowly over him, his expressionless eyes startled her, the blue corpse-like colour was spread over his pale thin face, a large gaping wound was seen on his bare breast. The wounded man had died during the journey, he must have expired quite an hour before.

Involuntarily she laid her hand upon his brow, it was cold as ice.

She was gazing horrified upon this dreadful sight, when animated voices met her ear.

She looked up, and saw at a little distance a group of several ladies standing near the litter of a soldier in the Uhlan uniform; the bandage round his head had slipped and with a feeble hand he was endeavouring to replace it.

Amongst these ladies stood the lovely and graceful young countess Frankenstein. The deepest compa.s.sion shone in her eyes, but it did not banish the brilliant happiness that she felt. With a smile she said:

"This uniform must always be first with me, I almost belong to it myself!" and with a light elastic step she went up to the litter, and drawing off her gloves, and throwing back her lace sleeves, she began with her beautiful white hands to arrange the bandage for the wounded man. Over her arms hung a long strip of fine white linen, which she used to retain the bandage in its place until the surgeon should arrive.

Antonia Balzer started when she heard this voice; from her dark corner she watched the charming and beautiful young girl as she stood in the strong light with her smiling lips and brilliant eyes.

A deadly paleness spread over her face, her complexion grew as ghastly as that of the poor man who lay before her; a burning flash of which no human eyes seemed capable darted from her, wild hatred distorted her lovely features.

She gazed for one moment on the charming figure near her, then her face a.s.sumed a gloomy, dreadful expression; an indescribable smile appeared on her lips.

"Here is death, there is life!" she whispered hoa.r.s.ely, and bent down over the corpse until her face was hidden, and could be recognized by no one.

She took a small pair of scissors with golden handles from her basket, and stooping over the dead man she plunged the points of the scissors deep into the wound upon his breast, then she pressed her fine cambric handkerchief upon it, and saturated it with the b.l.o.o.d.y fluid that exuded.

She sprang up hastily; her face expressed anxious excitement.

She hastened to the knot of ladies surrounding Clara Frankenstein, who was still occupied in holding the strip of linen which she had placed around the forehead of the wounded man.

"For heaven's sake!" cried Madame Balzer, "give me a strip of linen, a drop of eau de cologne! I have exhausted everything; a poor wounded man is dying!"

And hastily approaching Clara she seized her outstretched arm with both hands, as if imploring her for a piece of the linen which hung over it.

Clara uttered a cry and hastily drew back her hand. A drop of blood appeared just above her wrist and trickled slowly down her white arm.

"Oh, how clumsy of me!" cried Madame Balzer. "I have hurt you with my scissors; I beg a thousand pardons!"

And she quickly pressed the handkerchief she had applied to the wound upon the wrist of the young countess.

"Pray do not mind about it," said Clara kindly; "do not let us lose our time over this little scratch when there are so many serious wounds to think of."

And she slowly withdrew her arm, which Madame Balzer was still rubbing with her handkerchief as if to remove the blood.