Frederick the Great and His Court Part 6

Fritz Wendel at length dared to raise his eyes, and glance timidly at the smiling face of the young girl who stood near him.

"They are also intended for a princess," he said, in a low voice--"for my princess."

"Oh! then you have a special princess for whom you gather flowers?"

"Yes, I have my princess, whom I serve, and for whom I would willingly sacrifice my life," cried the impetuous young man, with all the energy of his pa.s.sionate and untamed nature.

Mademoiselle von Schwerin played carelessly with the branch of the lilac which she held in her hand. She plucked off the small blossoms, and throwing them in the air, blew them about, as she danced here and there on tiptoe.

"I would like to know how it is that I find a magnificent bouquet in my room every morning, and who it is that dares to gather more beautiful flowers for me than any to be found in the vases of the princess royal?"

"It must be some one who adores you," said the young gardener, with his eyes on the ground, and blus.h.i.+ng deeply at his own temerity.

"Then it is a n.o.bleman, perhaps one of the court gentlemen," she said, casting a teasing glance on her embarra.s.sed lover. "Who else would dare to adore me, or to send me flowers?"

"Yes, you are right, who would dare?" murmured Fritz Wendel; "perhaps some poor, deluded mortal, led by a wild insanity to forget his humble condition, and consider himself your equal. There have been maniacs who imagined themselves great among earth's greatest men, and equal even to the very G.o.d in heaven."

"How pale you are!" cried Louise, looking at the young man with undissembled tenderness. "Why do you weep, Fritz?"

She took his hand, and gazed into his eyes with a most singular expression, half curious, half questioning.

Fritz Wendel trembled with delight at her touch, but withdrew his hand almost with violence.

"I weep because I am a miserable gardener," he murmured; "I weep because I am not great and n.o.ble, like the gentlemen at court."

"Yesterday Baron von Kaiserling gave an account of an Austrian general, who was the son of a peasant, and had been a cowherd. Now he is a general, and is married to the daughter of a count."

The countenance of Fritz Wendel beamed with energy and courage.

"Oh! why is there not a war?" he cried, enthusiastically. "I could not fail to become a general, for I should fight like a lion."

"You would like to become a general, in order to marry the daughter of a count?"

"Not the daughter of a count, but--"

"Fritz Wendel! Fritz Wendel!" called a voice in the distance.

"It is the head gardener," said poor Fritz, sadly. "Farewell, farewell; be kind and gracious, and come again to-morrow to the garden."

He took his basket of flowers, and hurried down the avenue.

Mademoiselle von Schwerin followed him, with an angry glance. "Once more no declaration of love," she murmured, stamping on the ground with the spitefulness of a child. "He shall make me a declaration. Madame von Morien says there is nothing more heavenly than to hear for the first time that you are beloved. She also says it is wisest not to choose your lovers among your equals, but either above or beneath you, for then you may be sure that you will not be betrayed. She told me yesterday that she was never so wors.h.i.+pped as by a young huntsman who served her father when she was just my age, and that no other man had ever adored her as he had done. Now Fritz Wendel loves me also, and he shall make me a declaration, for I must know what this charming sensation is. He shall do it to-morrow. I will be so kind and gentle that he will tell me of his love. But now I must return to the palace.

I dare not be found here," and the young girl flew away lightly as a gazelle.

CHAPTER VIII.

VON MANTEUFFEL, THE DIPLOMAT.

The garden was again solitary. Nothing was heard but the chattering of birds, as they flitted from limb to limb, and the whispering of the wind among the trees; all else was tranquil and still. But this did not last long. The noise of advancing footsteps gave evidence of the approach of some one, whose figure was soon visible at the entrance of the grand avenue.

This person was again a lady, who, if not so beautiful as Mademoiselle von Schwerin, was still pretty enough to be called one of the fair s.e.x.

She was dressed in a charming and tasteful morning robe, which was eminently adapted to display to advantage the beautiful contour of her tall and stately figure.

Nor had she come into the garden merely to breathe the fresh morning air, and enjoy the delightful fragrance of flowers; these were scarcely observed, as she hurriedly swept past them. She stood still for a moment at the end of the long avenue, and looked cautiously around in all directions. Seeing that no one was near, that she was alone and un.o.bserved, she turned aside into the bushes, and, following a narrow, overgrown path, at last arrived at the garden wall, where she remained standing before a small door for a moment, listening with suppressed breathing. Hearing nothing, she clapped her hands three times, and listened again. And now a repet.i.tion of her signal could be heard from the other side, and she cried in clear and silvery tones, "Good-morning, good-morning!" A deep, manly voice returned her greeting from the other side of the wall.

"It is he!" murmured the lady, and quickly drawing a key from her pocket, she opened the door.

The man who had been standing outside sprang forward through the open gate, and, bowing low to the lady, pressed her proffered hand to his lips.

"Good-morning, Count Manteuffel," said she, smiling. "Really you are as punctual as if coming to a rendezvous with your lady love."

"Tempi pa.s.sali!" sighed the count. "I am married,"

"So am I," said the lady, laughing; "that is, however, no reason why--"

"You should not still have ardent and devoted admirers." said the count, interrupting her. "But you are still young and beautiful, while I have grown old. Tell me, kind lady, by what, art you have preserved the charming freshness of youth, and those bright and sparkling eyes by which I was so completely enslaved when I still had a heart?"

The lady gave him a penetrating, mocking look. "Count Manteuffel," said she, "you are so friendly, and your adoration is of so profound a nature, that you undoubtedly have some very particular favor to solicit at my hands. But come, let us enter that little pavilion; there we will find comfortable seats, and be secure from all interruption."

They pa.s.sed silently along the wall to the pavilion, to which the same key gave access which had before opened the garden door.

"Here we are safe," said the lady, throwing back the lace veil which had concealed her face. "Come, count, let us be seated; and now tell me why you desired this meeting, and why it is that your valet was not sent as usual to deliver your letters and to receive mine?"

"I had an irresistible longing to see you, to behold once more your lovely countenance," said the count, with a deep sigh.

"But just now you said you had no heart," said the lady, laughing.

"You are the enchantress who recalls it to life. Really you do credit to your name, and, thanks to Madame Brandt, my heart is again in flames."

"Count, it is very evident that you are now playing a part to which you are not accustomed," exclaimed Madame Brandt, laughing. "When you attempt to act the lover you become insipid, while your are known and acknowledged to be one of the shrewdest and most ingenious of diplomatists. But no diplomatic subterfuges with me, I pray. Let us waste no time on the sh.e.l.l, but to the kernel at once! What do you require of me? In my last letter I gave you an accurate account of the state of affairs at court, and also of the state of my finances, which is precisely that of the prince royal's; that is, his purse is as empty as mine."

"And both of you have an empress who is only too happy to have the privilege of supplying this deficiency," said Count Manteuffel, drawing forth a well-filled purse, through the silken meshes of which gold glittered, and presenting it to the lady. "I am only sorry to say there are several empresses who have the inestimable privilege of a.s.sisting the prince royal and Madame Brandt."

"What do you mean, count? We no longer understand each other, and I beg of you not to speak in riddles, which I am not prepared to solve."

"I mean to say that the prince royal, in his moneyed embarra.s.sments, no longer addresses himself to the Empress of Austria, although she, as his nearest relative, as the aunt of the princess royal, has undoubtedly the first claim to his confidence."

"But perhaps the purse of the Empress of Austria is insufficient to meet his demands," said Madame von Brandt.

"He should first have tested the purse of the empress, as he frequently did in former times--in times when not only the prince royal, but also his sister of Bairout, experienced the generosity of their imperial aunt. But the prince royal readily forgets the benefits which he has received."

"That he does," sighed Madame von Brandt. "We poor women are the greatest sufferers. He has loved us all, and forgotten us all."

"All?" asked Count Manteuffel.