Frederick the Great and His Court Part 18

"There is one," said the count, pointing to Count Voss, who appeared to have forgotten the whole world, and was occupied writing verses in his portfolio.

Madame von Brandt laughed aloud. "He marry the beautiful Laura!"

"Yes," said the count, earnestly, "he seeks a Laura."

"Yes, but you forget that he considers me his Laura."

"You can, therefore, easily induce him to make this sacrifice for you; he will be magnified in his own eyes, if, in resigning you, he gives himself to the lady you have selected."

"You are terrible," said Madame von Brandt. "I shudder before you, for I believe you have no human emotions in your heart of iron."

"There are higher and n.o.bler considerations, to which such feelings must yield. But see, the count has finished his poem. To work now, my beautiful ally; today you must perfect your masterpiece; and now, farewell," said the count, kissing her hand, as he left her side.

Madame von Brandt approached the young count, who seemed to be again lost in thought. She placed her hand lightly on his shoulder, and whispered, half tenderly, half reproachfully, "Dreamer, where are your thoughts?"

"With you," said the count, who trembled and grew pale at her touch.

"Yes, with you, n.o.blest and dearest of women; and as that tiresome gossip prevented me from speaking to you, I pa.s.sed the time he was here in writing."

"But you did not remember," said she, tenderly, "that you were compromising me before Count Manteuffel, who will not hesitate to declare in what intimate relations.h.i.+p we stand to one another. Only think of writing without apology, while a lady and a strange gentleman were at your side!"

"The world will only exclaim 'What an original!'" said Count Voss, with a foolish, but well-pleased smile.

"But it will also say that this original shows little consideration for Madame von Brandt; that he must, therefore, be very intimate with her.

The reputation of a woman is so easily injured; it is like the wing of the b.u.t.terfly, so soon as the finger touches it or points at it, it loses its l.u.s.tre; and we poor women have nothing but our good name and unspotted virtue. It is the only s.h.i.+eld--the only weapon--that we possess against the cruelty of man, and you seek to tear that from us, and, then dishonored and humiliated, you tread us under foot!"

"You are weeping!" cried the count, looking at his beloved, in whose eyes the tears really stood--"you are weeping! I am truly a great criminal to cause you to shed tears."

"No, you are a n.o.ble but most thoughtless man," said Madame von Brandt, smiling through her tears. "You betray to the world what only G.o.d and we ourselves should know."

"Heavens! what have I betrayed?" cried the poor frightened count.

"You have betrayed our love," whispered Madame von Brandt, as she glanced tenderly at the count.

"What! our love?" he cried, beside himself with delight; "you admit that it is not I alone who love?"

"I admit it, but at the same time declare that we must part."

"Never! no, never! No power on earth shall part us," said he, seizing her hand, and covering it with kisses.

"But there is a power which has the right to separate us--the power of my husband. He already suspects my feelings for you, and he will be inexorable if he discovers that his suspicions are correct."

"Then I will call him out, and he will fall by my hand, and I shall bear you in triumph as my wife to my castle."

"But if you should fall?"

"Ah! I had not thought of that," murmured the count, turning pale.

"That would be certainly a most unhappy accident. We will not tempt fate with this trial, but seek another way out of our difficulty. Ah, I know one already. You must elope with me."

She said, with a sad smile, "The arm of the king extends far and wide, and my husband would follow us with his vengeance to the end of the world."

"But what shall we do?" cried the count, despairingly; "we love each other; separated, we must be consumed with grief and sorrow. Ah! ah!

shall I really suffer the fate of Petrarch, and pa.s.s my life in an eternal dirge? Is there no way to prevent this?"

Madame von Brandt placed her hand with a slight but tender pressure on his. "There is one way," she whispered, "a way to rea.s.sure, not only my husband, but the whole world, which will cast a veil over our love, and protect us from the wickedness and calumny of man."

"Show me this way," he exclaimed, "and if it should cost half of my fortune I would walk in it, if I could hope to gain your love."

She bent her head nearer to him, and, with a most fascinating and tender glance, whispered, "You must marry, count."

He withdrew a step, and uttered a cry of horror. "I must marry! You desire it--you who profess to love me?"

"Because I love you, dearest, and because your marriage will break the bands of etiquette which divide us. You must marry a lady of my acquaintance, perhaps one of my friends, and then no one, not even my husband, will consider our friends.h.i.+p remarkable."

"Oh! I see it; there is no other way," sighed the count. "If I were only married now!"

"Oh! you ungrateful, faithless man," cried Madame von Brandt, indignantly. "You long already for your marriage with the beautiful young woman, in whose love I shall be forgotten."

"Oh! you are well aware that I only wish to be married because you desire it."

"Prove this by answering that you will not refuse to marry the lady I shall point out to you."

"I swear it."

"You swear that you will marry no other than the one I name? You swear that you will overcome all obstacles, and be withheld by no prayers or reproaches?"

"I swear it."

"On the word of a count?"

"On the word of a count. Show me the lady, and I will marry her against the will of the whole world."

"But if the lady should not love you?"

"Why should I care? Do I love her? Do I not marry her for your sake alone?"

"Ah! my friend," cried Madame von Brandt, "I see that we understand one another. Come, and I will show you your bride."

She placed her arm in his, and drew him away. Her eye gleamed with a wild, menacing light, and she said sneeringly to herself, "I have selected a rich husband for my beautiful Laura, and have bartered my soul for diamonds and cashmeres, and the grat.i.tude of an empress."

CHAPTER II.

THE QUEEN'S MAID OF HONOR.

After her interview with Count Manteuffel, the queen Sophia Dorothea left the garden, and retired to her chamber. She dismissed her maids of honor for a few hours, requesting them to admit no one to her presence.