"You have not made your toilet, Eugene. What costume have you

selected?"

"The very respectable one of a little abbe," was the reply.

"Respectable, if you will, but excessively unbecoming, and unworthy

of the Prince of Savoy. I perceive that you, at least, have no wish

to make conquests to-day."

"No--all my victories I hope to win by the help of my good sword."

"Do you go with me in my gondola, reverend sir?"

"I in your magnificent gondola, at the side of such a Phoebus-

Apollo! I might well despair of making conquests in such company;

and, for aught you know, I may be desirous of attracting the

attention of some fair lady who is not taken by appearances."

The elector looked up in surprise. He had never heard an expression

like this from Eugene's lips before; and now he saw clearly that his

demeanor had changed, that his eye was restless and bright, his

cheek flushed, his whole countenance beaming with some inward hope

or realized joy.

"Eugene," said he, touching his friend's shoulder, "Venice holds the

secret of your love; and you have tidings that have lightened your

heart. I read them in your eyes, which are far from being as

discreet as your lips."

"Perhaps so; but the secrets of love are sacred--sacred as those of

the confessional. Nevertheless, I may confide in you sooner than you

expect, for I may need your help as well as you mine."

The two young men went out arm in arm, followed by the suite of the

elector, and, behind them, by Conrad and Antonio.

"Who is that mask?" asked Max, as he passed by.

"My new commissionnaire, Antonio--he that is to tell us the name of

your belle."

They were by this time on the marble stairs that led to the water,

where side by side lay the superb gilded gondola of the Elector of

Bavaria and the inconspicuous one of the Prince of Savoy.

As the two princes were descending the stairs, a gayly-dressed

nobleman sprang from the gondola of the elector, and advanced

respectfully to meet them.

"Monsieur le Marquis de Villars," said Max, bowing, "I am happy to

see that you have accepted a seat with me."

"It is an honor for which I am deeply grateful, your highness,"

replied the marquis; "and one which I accept in the name of my

gracious sovereign, for whom alone such a compliment can be

intended."

"You are mistaken, marquis; I invited you that I might enjoy the

pleasure of your company to-day. Allow me, Prince of Savoy, to

introduce to you the Marquis de Villars, the French ambassador to

the court of Bavaria."

"There is no necessity for us to know each other," replied Eugene.

"The marquis is a Frenchman, and I have no love for that nation;

particularly for those who are favorites of Monsieur Louvois. Adieu,

your highness."

And without vouchsafing a word to the French ambassador, Eugene

entered his gondola.

"I must apologize for my friend," said the courteous Max Emmanuel to

the marquis. "He has been sorely injured both by the King of France

and his minister. Forget his bluntness, then, I beseech you, and

forgive his unpleasant remark."

"He is your highness's friend, and that at once earns his

forgiveness," replied De Villars. "But that the friend of the

Elector of Bavaria should be the enemy of my sovereign I deeply

regret; for he may prejudice your highness against the King of

France. He may transfer his aversion to--"

"Let us rather suppose that I may transfer my love of France to

him," said Max Emmanuel. "But let us eschew politics, and enjoy the

bliss of the hour. To-day la bella Venezia puts forth all her

charms. And as the swift gondolas skim over the green waters of the

lagoon, so flies my heart toward my bellissima Venetiana!"

At twelve o'clock. Laura left her dressing-room to join the Marquis

de Strozzi and his sister in the drawing-room below.

"Great heavens, how beautiful!" cried Lucretia, embracing her. "I

have not been wise in placing myself so near you, bewitching Laura.

Ottario, do look at her; did you ever see such a vision of beauty?"

"Pray do not force the marquis to praise me," said Laura; "you are

perfectly aware that I am indifferent to his approbation. But as

regards beauty in Venice, where beautiful women abound, the Countess

Canossa is acknowledged to be la belleza delle belle. And to think

that nobody will see you to-day in my closed gondola!"

"You adhere to your resolution to have your gondola curtained?"

asked the marquis.

"Yes," replied Laura, without bestowing a glance upon him.

"And I rejoice to know it," exclaimed he, passionately, "for I alone

will drink in all your beauty. For me alone have you worn this

becoming costume."

"You know perfectly well that my dress was chosen by your sister."

"Catharine Cornaro was by adoption a Venetian," returned Strozzi,

"and since you have willingly donned her dress, I must accept it as

an earnest of your consent to appear as the wife of a Venetian

noble."

To this taunt Laura made no reply. She gave her hand to the

countess, and they passed into the corridors together. The walls

were hung with chefs-d'oeuvres of Titian, Tintoretto, Paul Veronese,

and Gioberti, all gorgeously framed in Italian style; and between

each picture was a mirror that extended from floor to ceiling.

Through these magnificent halls went Laura, as regardless of their

splendor as of the passionate glances of the man who walked by her

side, so near and yet so far, so very far away from her heart.

The gondola that awaited them was an heir-loom of the Strozzis, and

was never used except on gala-days. It was well known to the

Venetians, every one of whom was accustomed to point to it with

pride, saying, "There goes the bucentoro of the Strozzis!"

As Laura was about to step into this glittering bucentoro, the

gondoliers around, delighted with her beauty, shouted, "Evviva la

Marchesa Strozzi!" To their great astonishment, the marchesa,

instead of bowing and smiling as is usual on such occasions, gave no

other evidence of having heard their greeting than that which by a

frown and a flash of her dark eyes might be construed into a signal

of displeasure, as she disappeared behind the silken hangings of the

bucentoro.

The centre of the gondola was supported by gilded pillars,

surmounted by a canopy of silk and gold. Behind this canopy was a

sort of pavilion, bordered by seats cushioned with gold brocade. In

the centre was a table, of costly material and make, on which stood

a golden vase of rare flowers. The pillars also were wreathed with

flowers, which appeared to be carried from column to column by

flying Cupids that were holding up the garlands in their chubby

little hands. In short, the temple was worthy of the divinities, one

of whom was light-hearted and coquettish, the other proud and

serious. Between them was the Marquis de Strozzi, in the rich habit

of a Greek corsair--a character which his handsome, sinister face

was well fitted to represent. His gloomy black eyes were fixed upon

Laura, while his hands toyed with a silken cord that hung from the

pillar against which he was leaning.

The eyes of the countess were fixed upon the cord, and presently she

raised them with a glance of inquiry to her brother. He nodded, and

his sister smiled. Then throwing herself back among the cushions,

she raised her little foot to a gilded stool that was before her,

and leaning her head against the pillar, looked out upon the waters

with an expression that might have become Danae awaiting her shower

of gold.

Laura, on the contrary, wore a look of resolve that seemed

inappropriate to the scene and the occasion. But her thoughts were

far away from the frivolities that interested Lucretia. She had

determined that, in presence of all Venice and of the foreigners

that had assembled there to celebrate the carnival, she would burst

asunder the compulsory ties that bound her to Strozzi. Before the

world she would give the lie to that simulated bridal, and fly to

him who was, by all the laws of God, her true and only spouse.

Thus thought Laura, while far away from the crowds that from gondola

to gondola were greeting one another, the bucentoro pursued its

solitary way over the water. She had managed to draw aside the

curtain and to look around for him who to her filled the world with

his presence. At last she saw him. He was there--there! and he saw

her, for his gondola changed its course, and came nearer. Like an

arrow it sped across the waters, taking heed of no impediments,

dashing into the midst of other gondolas, as reckless as a pirate of

the consternation it created among the bewildered gondoliers, who

were forced to give it passage, or be dashed aside like so much

spray; while Eugene's gaze was fixed upon the golden bark of the

Strozzi--the argosy that bore such precious freight. At last they

neared it, and Eugene could see the little white hand, holding a

bouquet of roses from between the crimson hangings of the pavilion.

His eyes brightened, and his whole being seemed transfigured.

Gallant and comely he looked--a knight worthy of any woman's love.

The Elector of Bavaria had seen all the movements of Eugene's

gondola. He had seen it suddenly change its course, and had watched

the prince pointing with uplifted hand to some object in the

distance, which, to judge by his bearing, one would have supposed

was a breach to mount. Max Emmanuel had smiled and said to himself:

"In yonder direction lies Eugene's love-secret. We had better

follow, for we may be useful in time of need. He seems to me to be

too bashful to manage an intrigue with skill."

So the elector gave orders to follow the gondola of the Prince of

Savoy; and now his gondoliers, too, were rowing for their lives,

while many a bright eye was turned admiringly upon his tall,

graceful form.

Laura was not the only person that was looking out from the

curtained bucentoro. The marquis, too, had seen the two approaching

gondolas; and now, as the foremost one came full in view, he passed

his arm outside, and, while Laura's head was turned away, made a

sign to Antonio, who responded with another.

The gondolas were now so close that their occupants were easily

recognized. Strozzi saw Eugene's passionate gaze, and guessed that

it had been returned, although the face of his wife had been

averted, so that he had not seen the act.

At this moment Laura turned, and gave a quick, searching glance

around the pavilion.

"You are looking for me?" asked Strozzi, with a singular smile. "I

am here, my wife, to protect you from all danger; and as I am weary

of standing, and as there is no seat for me beside you, I will take

the place that my heart covets most."

And, before Laura could prevent him, he had thrown himself at full

length, had clasped her feet, and raised them over his knee, so that

they had the appearance of having been placed in that familiar

position by her own will. He then pulled the silken cord which he

had held all this while in his hand, and the curtains of the

pavilion were rolled up, exposing its three occupants to the view of

the whole Venetian world. On one side lay Lucretia, in her Danae-

like position, and on the other, gazing with the rapture of an

accepted lover into the face of the marchioness, lay Strozzi. The

picture was unequivocally that of a pair of lovers, and those who

knew her not as his wife were convinced that in Laura they beheld

the mistress of the Marquis de Strozzi.

"Evviva!" shouted the enraptured multitude, dazzled by the beauty of

the tableau. No one heard Laura's despairing entreaty for release

from a posture so humiliating. Nor had any one heard the exclamation

of delight that burst from the lips of the elector, as in Lucretia

he recognized his houri.

"There she is!" exclaimed he to the French ambassador.

"Who?" asked the latter, in astonishment.

"The most beautiful woman that ever distracted a susceptible man,"

was the reply. "Do you not know her?"

"I regret to say that I do not, but I will make it my duty to

discover her abode, and communicate the discovery to your highness."

"Thank you," began the elector. But suddenly he stopped, and gazed

intently upon Prince Eugene, who was standing at the stern of his

gondola, only a few feet distant from the bucentoro of the Strozzis.

The elector directed his gondoliers to approach that of the prince,

and, springing from one boat to the other, he laid his hand on

Eugene's shoulder.

"Friend," said he, "I do not desire to force myself into your

confidence; but lest I become your unconscious rival, answer me one

question. Is that lady there, in the red-velvet dress, the object of

your unhappy attachment?"

"No, dear Max," replied Eugene, with his eyes fixed steadfastly upon

Laura.

"Truly?"

"Truly, I do not know her; but if you ask Antonio, he will tell

you."

With these few words Eugene turned away, and, in a low voice,

promised a rich reward to his gondoliers if they would but touch the

gondola of the Marquis Strozzi.

The elector beckoned to Antonio. "Who is that lady in the gilded

gondola close by?" said he.

"Which one, your highness?"

"The one in red velvet,"

"That is the Countess Lucretia Canossa, sister of the Marquis de

Strozzi."

"Is she married?"

"Yes, your highness, to a man who has squandered her fortune; so

that but for her brother she would be penniless."

The elector thanked Antonio, and leaped back into his own gondola.

The Marquis de Villars, meanwhile, who knew that gondoliers were the

news-givers of Venice, had ascertained quite as much of the position

of the countess as Max Emmanuel had done during his short absence.

"I can answer your highness's question now," whispered he. "I have

learned every thing concerning her that it is needful to know from

the gondoliers."

"And I, too, know all that I care to know." replied the elector; "so

here am I, like Rinaldo before the enchanted gardens of Armida: I

must and will enter!"

"Of course you will. What woman can withstand the fascinations of

the handsomest cavalier in Europe?" observed the marquis; adding to

himself: "And thank Heaven that I know the Armida of his longings,

for she must draw this Rinaldo, not only into her own toils, but

into those of France."

Eugene was standing on the edge of his gondola, his passionate gaze

fixed upon the group that had been disclosed by the rising of

Strozzi's silk curtain. What could it mean? Oh! it was horrible! To

see Laura lying back in a position so voluptuous, her feet clasped

in Strozzi's arms, his eyes so lovingly triumphant, was like a

poisoned dagger to the heart of her unhappy lover. Had she called

him thither to make him the sport of his successful rival? The very

thought was madness: and yet Laura feigned not to see him; her eyes

were steadily cast down.

Eugene was determined to know the worst; he would not retreat until

conviction had chased away this deadly suspense. Slowly his gondola

came near and more near, while in that of his rival its approach was

watched by two of its occupants, both of whom knew equally well for

what purpose it was coming.

Laura gathered up all her strength for one effort, and freed her

feet from Strozzi's clasp.

"You are a wretch!" exclaimed she with indignation. "If you pollute

me again with the touch of your hands, I will drown myself here, in

your very sight."

"Oh no; you will throw yourself overboard, that Prince Eugene may

plunge after you. Listen to me, Marchioness de Strozzi. I am

perfectly acquainted with the nature of the stratagem you proposed

to put into execution to-day. But I tell you that as sure as the

gondola of the prince touches mine, and you make the least movement

of your hand or foot, he dies."

"Vain threat!" exclaimed she, surveying him with contemptuous

disbelief.

"You think so? Let me prove to you the contrary. Do you see the mask

behind Prince Eugene? He is the man that will do the deed. Observe

his motions while I speak a word or two, ostensibly to my rowers--

really to him."

And the marquis called out, as though to his gondoliers, "Are you

ready?"

The words were no sooner spoken, than the mask bowed his head, and

drew from his cloak a poniard, which he raised and held suspended

over the back of Eugene's neck.

Laura uttered a cry and fell back among the cushions, while Strozzi,

hanging over her with the air of an enamoured lover, whispered: "The

gondola almost touches ours. Make but the smallest sign--lift but a

finger, and I swear that I will give the signal for his death!"

"O God! do not kill him!" was all that the wretched girl had

strength to say.

The gondolas met. Eugene stood erect on the stern of his boat, his

right arm extended toward her whom he loved. But alas! she came not.

She did not even turn her head; for Antonio was there, his poniard

uplifted, and Eugene's life depended upon her obedience.

"Traitress!" exclaimed the prince, as Strozzi's bucentoro shot

ahead, and the red-silk curtains, falling heavily down, shut out the

fearful tableau that had been prepared to torture and exasperate

him.

Laura had swooned, and her fall had been remarked by the gondoliers.

"Poor thing," said one of them, "she has a paroxysm of insanity."

"How insanity?" asked Conrad.

"Everybody in Venice has heard of the lunacy of the Marchioness de

Strozzi," was the reply. "It is for that reason that she never goes

out. The marquis perhaps thought she might be trusted to see the

regatta; but he was mistaken. You must have remarked how closely he

watched her for fear of some catastrophe."

"Insane, is she?" said Eugene, with quivering lip, to Antonio.

"Pazza per amore," replied he, with a shrug. Then, coming closer to

the prince, he added, "The marquis gives out that his wife is crazy,

and, as nobody ever sees her, nobody is any the wiser."

"And you? What think you, Antonio?"

"I do not believe it, for I know the signora well."

"You know her?" said Eugene, touching Antonio on the shoulder.

"Yes. She it is who recommended me to take service with your

highness, and to tell you that you might trust me."

"Oh, I do trust you, good Antonio. Did I not say that the scar on

your face was your best recommendation?"

"Yes, excellenza; and I will not forget it."

"Can you explain to me the mystery of the scene we have just

witnessed?"

"Yes, excellenza. The marchesa intended to leap into this gondola

and fly with you from Venice; but, as she attempted to rise, the

marquis showed her a dagger, and swore that if she moved hand or

foot he would spring into your highness's boat and kill you."

"And I cursed her!" thought Eugene, "and she heard my cruel words.

Oh Laura, my Laura! when will I lie at thy feet to implore

forgiveness? Home," cried he aloud, to the gondoliers. Then, in a

whisper, he added to Antonio, "I must speak with you as soon as we

are alone."

All this time Laura lay insensible in the bucentoro, her husband

gazing intently upon her pallid face. The Countess Lucretia was

wearied to death with the whole performance.

"Fratillo," said she, "I hope that you have done with me, and that

you intend to return with your sentimental beauty to the palace."

Without removing his eyes from Laura, Strozzi bent his head, while

the countess went on:

"My gondola, your handsome present, is just behind us, and I must

say that it is worthy of Aphrodite herself. Pity that no goddess

should grace such a lovely sea-shell. Have I your permission to

occupy it, and leave this stifling atmosphere of love?"

"Go, go," answered Strozzi, impatiently.

"Thanks!" was Lucretia's heartfelt reply; and, opening the curtains,

she beckoned to her gondoliers, and stepped gracefully from the

bucentoro to her own dainty bark.

"It is rather tiresome to be without company," thought she, as she

was rowed away; "but solitude is better than concealment behind

those hateful curtains of Ottario's. I wonder who is the handsome

cavalier that seemed to be struck with me a while ago? One of the

foreign princes, I imagine, for he had a star on his breast. Ah!--

There he is, staring at me with all the power of his splendid eyes."

And the beautiful Lucretia, pretending not to see the elector, sank

gracefully back among her white satin cushions.

"Row toward the piazetta," said she to her gondoliers, "but go in a

direction contrary to that taken by yonder large gondola filled with

cavaliers."

"That of the Elector of Bavaria? Yes, signora."

"Ah!" thought she, delighted, "he is the Elector of Bavaria, son-in-

law of the Emperor of Germany. It would be worth my while to entice

so handsome a prince from his loyalty to an emperor's daughter!"

Scarcely had the gondola of the countess altered its course, before

the elector ordered pursuit.

"Do you see that gondola there, fashioned like a sea-shell, and

cushioned in white satin, Montgelas?" said he to his chamberlain.

"Yes, your highness."

"Say to the gondoliers that we follow in its track. Whether we see

the regatta or not is of no consequence, so we keep in view of that

Venus in the conch-shell."

The Marquis de Villars had pretended to be in earnest conversation

with his neighbor, but he heard every word of this order.

"Yes, indeed," thought he. "The countess must be bought, if her

price be a million."

Lucretia vouchsafed not a glance that could be detected at her

pursuers; but she saw every thing, and exulted at her conquest. "Oh,

emperor's daughter, emperor's daughter!" said she, "your husband is

falling into my toils. They say you are handsome, but your elector's

eyes tell me that I am handsomer than you!"

And so she beguiled her solitude, while in the bucentoro Laura still

lay in her swoon, and Strozzi gazed enamoured upon her beauty.

"Beautiful as Aurora!" murmured he, "beautiful as a dew-gemmed rose;

beautiful as the evening star! I love you--I love you to madness,

and you must, you shall be mine!"

He bent over her and, now that she had no power to resist him, he

covered her face with passionate kisses. But his kisses restored her

to life, and with a shudder she raised her hands, and threw him off.

"Touch me again, and I will plunge this dagger in your false heart!"

cried she, drawing a poniard from her bosom.

"I would not care, so I could say that you were mine before I died!"

"Would that you were dead, that I might fly to him whose wife I am,

in the sight of Heaven!"

"Put up your dagger," said Strozzi, coldly, while a look of venom

chased away the love that had beamed in his eye. "I will not trouble

you again."

"You have betrayed me a second time, liar and impostor that you

are!" exclaimed Laura, replacing her dagger. "You have deceived my

lover into the belief that I am false to him, but, believe me, he

shall know the truth. God will protect him from you and your bravi,

and He will avenge my wrongs! Now, order these curtains to be

raised. It is better to be gazed at by the multitude, some of whom

have hearts and souls, than to sit in this pavilion within sight of

you! And bid your gondoliers take me home to my prison, where, God

be thanked! I can sometimes be alone with my own thoughts!"

Strozzi obeyed like a cowed hound. He lifted the curtains, and

ordered the men to row to the palace.

Laura's eyes sought the gondola of her lover, but she could not see

it. It had left the regatta, and had already landed at the stairs of

the Palazza Capello.

CHAPTER VI.

THE NEGOTIATOR.

Countess Lucretia Canossa had just risen, and lay reclining on a

faded ottoman, attired in a neglige, which was any thing but

elegant, or appropriate to a beauty. She had rung several times for

her breakfast, but her waiting-maid had not seemed to hear the

summons, for nobody came at the call.

The countess, however, was so absorbed in her day-dreams, that she

forgot her breakfast. For a time her thoughts dwelt upon the

singular scene that had taken place in the bucentoro. She knew

nothing of the complications relating thereunto; she had but

witnessed the approach of the gondola which she supposed to be that

of her sister-in-law's lover; had seen her brother's extraordinary

excitement, and had guessed that some disappointment connected with

the presence of the insignificant little personage in that gondola

had caused Laura to fall into a swoon. She felt sincerely sorry for

her unhappy sister-in-law, but the countess was not inclined to

sentiment; so she dismissed the mystery of Laura's troubles with a

sigh, and fell to thinking of the Elector of Bavaria.

He had followed her all day, and well had she perceived that he had

had eyes for no one but herself. And when she had affected to weary

of his pursuit, he had left his own gondola for that of Count

Cornaro, who had approached and asked permission to present his

distinguished guest. The permission having been accorded as a matter

of course, the elector had entered into an animated conversation

with her, which lasted until the close of the regatta.

She had met him again that evening, at a ball given by Admiral

Mocenigo to the foreign princes. Many a handsome, gay gallant was

there; but the handsomest and most admired of them all was Max

Emmanuel of Bavaria. His dress, too, was magnificent in the extreme.

It was so covered with diamonds that it was like a dazzling sea of

light. But more splendid than his jewels were the flashing eyes

which, during that whole festival, had been fixed in admiration upon

the beautiful Lucretia; and what was still more delightful was the

fact that everybody had observed it, and that many a dame, who had

eclipsed the Countess of Canossa, and slighted her because of her

poverty, had envied her the conquest of the Bavarian prince's heart.

It had all ended as it should have done. Max Emmanuel had asked

permission to call upon her, and he was to make his visit at one

o'clock that day.

Lucretia had advanced so far in her triumphal course, when she cast

a glance of dismay at her mean, faded furniture.

"Oh, how forlorn it looks!" said she. "And to think that this is the

only room wherein I can receive a visit! for not another apartment

in the palace contains a chair whereon a man might take a seat. I

ought not to have yielded to my vanity, and consented to receive him

at home, for, when he sees my poverty, he will no longer think my

heart worthy of being won. He will believe that it can be bought,

and I shall sink in his estimation to the level of an ordinary

courtesan. I must be proud and reserved to-day with him; and, as I

have naught else to display, I must show off my wardrobe. But where

can Marietta be? Perhaps Count Canossa has gambled her away, and she

has gone off like the rest of the appointments of this dreary

palace."

Lucretia rang again; still there was no answer.

"The poor girl must have gone out to get me some breakfast. I had

forgotten that the cook left us because he had not been paid for a

year; and, as there is nobody else here, I must e'en have patience

until Marietta returns."

Lucretia sighed, and fell back upon her ottoman. For some time past

she had been aware that there was considerable bustle in the palace,

attended by hammering, and the sound of furniture either placed or

displaced. She had paid very little attention to it, for the rooms

were entirely empty, and she could only conjecture that her needy

spouse might have rented them out for the carnival. But the noise

came nearer and nearer, until she perceived that it had reached the

adjoining chamber, whence she could hear the sound of voices, and

distinguish much that was said.

She rang again, and this time the door was opened by some invisible

hand, when Marietta, bearing in her hand a large silver waiter,

advanced to a rickety table which stood near the ottoman, and placed

upon it a most delicate breakfast, served in dishes of costly,

chased silver. Not only the service was superb, but Marietta herself

was attired in a costume which shamed the shabbiness of her high-

born mistress.

Begging the countess's pardon for her unpunctuality, the maid

proceeded to pour out the chocolate, which she handed in a cup of

Sevras porcelain.

Lucretia rubbed her eyes. "Where, in the name of Aladdin, did you

get that dress?--And where this service?"

"The dress was brought to me this morning, my lady, and the mantua-

maker told me that it had been ordered by yourself; the jeweller who

brought the services of silver told me the same thing."

"I!" cried the countess. "I order such costly things?"

"Why, yes, my lady, for the upholsterers have almost arranged the

beautiful furniture you bought yesterday."

The countess smiled. "This is a prank of some carnival-mad jester,

child," said she. "There is not a word of truth in it. I wish there

were!"

"It is as true as that there are at least fifty workmen in the

palace at this very moment," was Marietta's reply.

Lucretia made no answer. She sprang from her ottoman, and, crossing

the room, threw open the door leading into the next saloon.

Marietta had spoken the sober truth. There they were all--fifty--

some hanging satin curtains before the bare windows, others placing

lofty mirrors in the recesses; one detachment uncovering the gilded

furniture, another arranging it, while the last folds of a rich

Turkey carpet were being smoothed in the corners of the room, where

dainty tables held vases of costly workmanship, filled with rare

flowers.

At first the countess had been struck dumb and motionless.

Recovering herself, however, after a moment or two, she went hastily

up to the person who seemed to direct the proceedings, and accosted

him:

"Will you oblige me by saying who ordered all this furniture?"

"Her ladyship, the Countess de Canossa," was the man's reply.

"Are you acquainted with the countess?" asked Lucretia.

"No, madame; I have not that honor."

"Then, how do you know that you are acting by her orders?"

"I received them yesterday through her steward."

"Her steward? And have you seen him since?"

"Yes, madame. He came again this morning very early, to see whether

we were punctual. It was all to be completed by one o'clock, and, as

it is not quite ten, you perceive that we will certainly have done

in time. But I must ask you to see the countess and request

permission for the workmen to be admitted to her boudoir. Will you

be so good as to convey the message?"

Lucretia cast a glance of shame at her faded gown. "He does not know

me," thought she, "and how should he in such a guise?" Then she

added, aloud, "I will apprise the countess."

Marietta was now in the dressing-room, whither she requested the

presence of her mistress immediately.

"What is it?" asked the bewildered Lucretia.

"The dressmaker is there, signora, to see if your dresses are to

your taste," replied Marietta.

"Let me see them," cried she, impatiently.

Marietta drew from a box a dress of pink satin, which, from its

make, was evidently intended for an under-skirt. "There is another,

just like it, of blue satin," exclaimed the enraptured lady's maid,

"and here is a box containing two peignoirs of guipure, with morning

caps to match. How beautiful your ladyship will look in these

negliges!"

"We will see at once whether I do," answered Lucretia, clapping her

hands with joy. "Here Marietta--quick! Help me off with this hateful

gown, and hand me the pink-satin petticoat."

In a few moments the mistress and maid were equally happy, while the

former was being decked in her magnificent neglige. The satin

petticoat was loose; and over it was thrown the guipure peignoir

which reached to the throat, and was continued at the waist by a

pink sash. The full sleeves were open, leaving half-covered, half-

exposed, Lucretia's arms, firm and white as Carrara marble.

"Now this love of a lace cap," cried Marietta, placing it with great

coquetry around the black braids of Lucretia's glossy hair; while

the latter, quite reconciled to the wonders that were being enacted

around her, was profoundly engaged in admiring herself in a looking-

glass.

"And now," said Marietta, "you are ready, and certainly you are as

lovely as a fairy."

"Fairy, say you? Yes; that seems to be the appropriate name for one

who is the recipient of such extraordinary riches as these. But now,

Marietta, whence do they come? Are they from my brother?"

"Signora, I know no more than I have told you. Yesterday a gentleman

(I think he must have been a Frenchman) came hither, announced

himself as an architect, and told me that your ladyship had sent him

to examine the palace, with a view to refurnishing it with great

magnificence."

"Did you take him over the rooms?"

"Of course I did, my lady. He took various notes as he went along,

and remained longer in your boudoir than in any room in the palace.

He sat down and made a drawing of it, asking me, now and then, a

question as to your ladyship's tastes and habits."

"Gracious Heaven!" exclaimed the countess, while a painful blush

overspread her face, "has he been here to see my need and hear of my

privations? Can he have been the secret giver of all this

magnificence?"

As the possibility that the Elector of Bavaria was her unknown

benefactor, presented itself to Lucretia's mind, her humiliation

grew extreme; for if these gifts were from him, they proved that he

held the daughter of the noble house of Strozzi to be a creature

that was to be bought with gold, without the poor pretence of one

word of love.

"When came he, and what sort of looking man was he?" asked she,

frowning.

"He came just after the regatta had begun, signora."

"Then, God be praised, it was not HE!" said Lucretia to herself,

"for at that hour, he was with me, in Count Cornaro's gondola."

A faint knock was heard at the door, and the decorateur begged

permission to enter. His coming awakened the countess from her

reverie, and she hastily bade him come in, "for," said she, "it must

be almost one o'clock."

"The clock on the mantel of the drawing-room has just struck eleven,

your ladyship," replied the man, who, now that she was richly

dressed, recognized the lady of the house.

"So," thought Lucretia, "I have a clock!" and she bounded off to the

drawing-room to see it. Marietta followed with the chocolate, which,

in the excitement of the moment, had been forgotten.

"True," said the countess. "bring me my breakfast, and let me take

it here in this beautiful apartment. Who is that at the door?" added

she, as Marietta went forward to open it.

"Your ladyship's butler," replied she. "He comes to know whether the

dejeuner a la fourchette is to be served in the boudoir or in the

banqueting-hall."

"Let it be in the banqueting-hall, for I may have several guests."

"The steward ordered it for one o'clock, my lady. He said that you

expected some guests of distinction."

"My steward?" repeated Lucretia, smiling. "So it seems that I have

an entire household. Let us go over our altered domains, Marietta."

And the two went from room to room, the femme de chambre as

delighted as her mistress, until they descended as far as the

kitchen. Here every thing gave evidence that the dejeuner was to be

a rare one. Two cooks, in white, presided over the arrangements, and

two scullions were busy carrying out the orders of the chief. They

were so absorbed in their business, that they did not perceive the

countess who stood in the door.

Presently from the storeroom opposite there emerged a man with

baskets of bottles, which he deposited on the table, saying:

"Here is Burgundy for the Bayonne ham. The champagne, sherry, and

constantia, are for the table."

The countess had now seen and heard enough. Not only was her palace

fitted up, but her kitchen was in order, and her wine-cellar filled.

So she returned to the drawing-room, where she was met with the

tidings that her boudoir was ready for occupation, and nothing now

remained to be done, unless her ladyship had any alterations to

suggest, or deficiencies to point out.

Her ladyship professed herself satisfied, and then came a moment of

embarrassment. "As regards the payment--"

"Oh, signora, the steward is to meet me at twelve o'clock, to

arrange that matter." And with these words he took his leave.

"I ought to have followed him," thought Lucretia, "to solve this

agreeable riddle, by making acquaintance with my steward. But pshaw!

I shall soon know all about it. Nobody has made me these presents

without intending to get a word of thanks for the benefaction."

She had scarcely seated herself in a new and beautiful ottoman,

which had replaced her faded, rickety old couch, before a servant

appeared and announced,

"Her ladyship's steward!"

"My ladyship's steward!" echoed Lucretia. "Do let us make his

acquaintance."

He came in--a small, slender man, apparently young, with a pair of

twinkling black eyes, and a countenance expressive of great energy.

With the air of a finished gentleman he bowed, advanced, and bowed

again.

"Signor," said Hie countess, "you have been announced by a title

which I have no right to bestow upon any person living--that of my

steward. Pray tell me who you are."

"Gracious countess," answered he, smiling, "I have the honor to

present myself. I am the Marquis de Villars, ambassador of his

majesty the King of France to the court of Bavaria."

"And may I ask why, in addition to your other representative titles,

you have assumed that of steward to the Countess of Canossa?"

"Because, signora, seeing that your habitation was not worthy of

you, I have ventured to perform the duties of a faithful steward, by

fitting it up in a manner which I hope is agreeable to the divinity

at whose shrine the elector is now a worshipper?"

"Did the elector suggest--" began Lucretia, reddening.

"Oh no, signora; he knows nothing of the little surprise I have

prepared for you. It does not concern him at all."

"Then I am to suppose that Count Canossa, having gambled away my

very home, this palace has become your property, and I am here on

sufferance. How long may I remain?"

"How long may you remain in your own home! Signora, all that you see

has been done for you, in your own name, and I hope you will do me

the honor to accept it."

"From whom?"

"You shall learn as soon as we understand each other, signora."

"Then let us come to an understanding at once, for the Countess

Canossa does not receive princely gifts from strangers."

"Of course not, nor would a stranger take so unpardonable a liberty

with a lady of her rank and birth. But before going further, let me

assure you, signora, that you are under obligations to nobody for

the little surprise I have prepared for you. Not in the least to me,

for I am but the representative of him who begs your acceptance of

it."

"You speak in riddles," said Lucretia, with a shrug. "But, at all

events, I understand that this furniture, silver, and these rich

dresses, are mine?"

"Assuredly yours, signora."

"Then let me inform you that in a week, at farthest, they will go,

as they came, in the space of a few hours. Count Canossa will have

lost them at the gaming-table, and the palazzo will be in the same

condition as it was yesterday."

"Count Canossa is powerless to touch the least portion of your

property, signora."

"Powerless? How! Are you a sorcerer, and have you changed him into

stone? Or have you spirited him away?"

"I have spirited him away, signora. I have persuaded him by the

eloquence of gold to forsake Venice, forever. As long as he remains

in Paris, he is to receive it yearly pension from the King of

France."

"Gone to Paris! Pensioned by the King of France!" exclaimed

Lucretia.

"Gone, signora; and, in leaving, he desired me to say to you that he

hoped you would forgive all the unhappiness he had caused you since

your marriage."

"Gone! Gone! Am I then free?" cried Lucretia, starting from her

ottoman, and grasping the hand of the marquis.

"Yes, signora. You are free to bestow your heart on whomsoever you

will. Count Canossa will never molest you more."

"Oh how I thank you! How I thank you!" replied she, her beautiful

eyes filling with tears of joy. "But tell me," added she, after a

short pause--"tell me, if you please, the meaning of all this

providential interference with my domestic affairs?"

"I am ready, signora," said the marquis, waiting for the countess to

resume her seat, and then placing himself at her side. "Perhaps in

your leisure hours you may have interested yourself in European

politics."

"Not I," said Lucretia, emphatically.

"Then allow me to enlighten you on the subject," replied the

marquis.

"To what end?" inquired she, impatiently.

"I will not detain you long, signora. Give me but a few moments of

your attention. Doubtless you have heard that the Emperor of

Austria, for several years past, has been at war with the Porte?"

Lucretia nodded, and the marquis went on. "Perhaps it will interest

you to know that the Elector of Bavaria is an ally of the emperor,

and has distinguished himself greatly, particularly at the siege of

Buda."

"Oh, I can believe it," cried she, with animation. "He looks like a

hero. Tell me, pray, something about his exploits."

"Later, signora, with pleasure; but for the present we must discuss

politics. Now the Emperor of Austria is fast getting the better of

the Sultan; and if the latter should succumb in this war, the former

would not only be left with too much power for the good of Europe

generally, but would become a dangerous rival to the King of France.

Now it is important for my sovereign that the victories of Austria

cease, and that Austria's power wax no greater. Have I expressed

myself clearly? Do you understand?"

"I begin to understand," was the reply.

"Now, there are various ways of crippling the resources of Austria;

for example, her allies might be estranged. Have patience, signora;

in a few moments my politics will grow personal and interesting. One

of the emperor's most powerful allies is the Elector of Bavaria."

"Of course," cried Lucretia, delighted with the turn that politics

were taking. "Of course he is, being the emperor's son-in-law. Tell

me about the elector's wife. Is she handsome? Does he love her?"

"Signora, as regards your latter question, the elector himself will

have great pleasure in answering it. As regards the former, the

Archduchess Antonia is handsome, but sickly, and her ill-health has

lost her the affection of her husband."

"Ah!" cried Lucretia, relieved, "he does not love her."

"He loves her no longer," said the marquis. "But he was greatly

taken by the charms of the Countess Kaunitz; and as the elector's

alliance with Austria was a matter of more importance than his

conjugal relations with the archduchess, the husband of the fair

countess was appointed ambassador to Bavaria, and his wife

ambassadress. It was through the influence of this charming

ambassadress that Max Emmanuel joined the forces of Austria."

"So he has a mistress, then? One whom he loves?"

"Whom he loved until he saw the Countess Canossa."

"Do you think I could supplant her?" exclaimed Lucretia, her large

eyes darting fire at the thought.

"I do not doubt it," was the flattering reply. "If you choose, you

can trample under foot this arrogant Austrian, who flatters herself

that Max Emmanuel is all her own."

"I would like to try," cried Lucretia, with the air of an amazon

about to go into battle.

"Then let me offer my services," said the marquis, bowing. "The

elector is peculiar, and has pretensions to be loved for his own

sake; therefore he would never quite trust the disinterested

affections of a woman whom he had power to raise from poverty to

affluence."

"Ah!" cried Lucretia, with a significant bend of the head. "NOW I

begin to apprehend your meaning as well as your munificence."

"Signora," said De Villars, with equal significance, "the King of

France seeks a friend who will alienate the elector from Austria,

and win him for France. Will you accept the trust?"

"But you said that he loved another woman."

"So much the greater will be your glory in the conquest, for the

countess is beautiful and fascinating."

"Is she in Venice?"

"Wherever the elector goes, thither she is sure to follow."

"She must leave Venice; she must be forced to leave!" cried the

vindictive Italian, ready to hate the woman whom Max Emmanuel loved.

"You must do better. Induce the elector to forsake her, and leave

her in Venice like another Didone abbandonata, while you carry him

in triumph back to Munich."

"I will, indeed I will!" exclaimed Lucretia, exultingly.

"Ah, signora," said the marquis, coaxingly, "what a magnanimous and

disinterested nature you display! You accede to my request without

naming conditions. Allow me to admire your nobleness, and believe me

when I say that my royal master shall hear of it."

"Well, tell him that, if it lies in my power, Max Emmanuel shall

learn to dislike Austria and love France."

"Signora, you are the instrument of a great purpose. I give you a

whole year wherein to work; and if, at the end of that time, you

have prevailed upon the elector to sign a treaty of alliance with

France, you, as one of France's noblest allies, shall receive from

my royal master one million of francs. Meanwhile you shall have ten

thousand francs a month for pin-money."

"Alas!" said Lucretia, "I am forced to accept; for my husband has so

effectually impoverished me that I live on the bounty of my brother.

And he is so arrogant that I am almost as glad to be independent of

him as to be delivered from my detestable husband. I shall endeavor

to let my acts speak my gratitude for the deliverance."

"Allow me, signora, to present you with your pocket-money for this

present month, and give me a receipt in the shape of your fair hand

to kiss."

So saying, he laid a purse of gold at Lucretia's feet, and covered

her hand with kisses.

"I shall want to consult you frequently, dear marquis," observed

Lucretia.

"I shall always be at your service."

"And now, I take it as a matter of course, that what has passed

between us this morning is to remain a profound secret."

"As a matter of course, signora, it goes no further," returned De

Villars, [Footnote: "Memoirs of the Marquis de Villurs," vol. i., p.

104.] "and to insure perfect secrecy, you must pretend not to know

me when we meet abroad. Not even the elector--or, perhaps I should

say, above all men, the elector is not to know of my visit. I must,

therefore, take my leave. for--hark! your clock strikes one, and

lovers are sure to be punctual."

"I shall expect you every morning at eleven; and so we can take

counsel together, and I can report daily progress to you."

"Aurevoir, then, signora. Allow me one word more. If, before the

close of the carnival, you leave Venice in company with the elector,

I shall take the liberty of refunding to you the entire cost of the

refurnishing of your palace to-day, as compensation for its

temporary loss. And now, fairest of the allies of France, adieu!"

The French ambassador had hardly time to make his escape, before the

doors of the drawing-room were flung open, and the lackey announced,

"His highness the Elector of Bavaria!"

CHAPTER VII.

THE LOVERS REUNITED.

Two weeks had elapsed since that unhappy meeting between Eugene and

Laura--two weeks of expectation and hope frustrated. In vain had

Eugene attempted to reach her with a message; in vain had he

remained for hours before her windows; in vain had Antonio tried to

penetrate into her presence. Day after day came the same sorrowful

news: the marchioness was very ill, and no one was allowed to pass

the threshold of the palace. Her husband watched day and night at

her bedside, and, excepting Mademoiselle Victorine, no living

creature was allowed to enter her room.

When, for the fourteenth time, Antonio returned unsuccessful from

his mission, Eugene became so agitated and grew so pale that the

bravo was touched to the heart, and, taking the prince's hand,

covered it with kisses.

"Do not be so cast down, excellenza," said he, imploringly; "have

courage, and hope for the best."

"Oh, Antonio!" murmured the prince, "she is dead!"

"No, excellenza, no! I swear to you that she lives, nor do I believe

one word of this rumored illness."

"Why should you not believe it, my friend?"

"Because I know the marquis well; and this is merely a pretext for

keeping his wife imprisoned."

"Thank you, Antonio, thank you," replied Eugene, "for this ray of

hope. Then I depend upon you to deliver my message sooner or later.

Remember my words: 'The Prince of Savoy knows why the marchioness

did not speak to him. He lives, loves, and hopes.' And if you will

but return to me with one word from her lips, I will feel grateful

to you for life, Antonio."

"I will serve you with my life, excellenza," said Antonio, bowing

and leaving the room.

He had not been long away, before the door was opened, and Conrad

announced the Elector of Bavaria.

"I have come to entice the hermit of the Capello out of his cell,"

cried Max Emmanuel. "My dear Eugene, was ever a man so obstinate a

recluse? Every time I come I am told that you are at the arsenal,

the dock-yards, the armory, a picture-gallery, or some other retreat

of arts and sciences."

"Well, dear Max, I am a student, and find much to learn in Venice."

"To whom do you say that?" cried Max, laughing. "As if I, too, were

not a student, only that my tastes lie not in the same direction as

yours, and as if I were not making tremendous progress in my

studies!"

"No wonder: you are far advanced in every branch of learning, while

I am but a neophyte."

"No such thing; you are much more deeply learned than I; but you are

the victim of an unfortunate passion which you are striving to

smother under a weight of study, while I--I, my dear fellow, am

distancing you every hour of the day, for my studies are all

concentrated upon the 'art of love.'"

"God speed you, then, and deliver you from the malady that is

wasting away my life!"

"You are an incomprehensible being, Eugene. I cannot comprehend your

dogged fidelity to such an abstraction as a woman whom you never

see. You have not trusted me with your secret, and yet I might have

done you some service had you been more frank with me."

"You mock me," replied Eugene, gloomily.

"No, Eugene, I do not mock you. I know your secret, despite your

taciturnity. I know that you love the Marchioness Strozzi, and that

the jealousy of her husband is such that you have not been able to

speak a word with her since your arrival in Venice."

"Who could have told you?"

"My houri--she whose love has made of Venice a Mussulman's paradise

to me. Oh, Eugene! I am the happiest man alive! I am beloved and

loved for myself. My beautiful mistress is noble and rich; she

refuses all my gifts, and yet she is about to give me unequivocal

proof of her love: she is about to leave her lovely Italian home,

and fly with me to Munich."

"Are you about to leave Venice so soon?"

"The archduchess is dangerously ill, and yesterday a courier was

sent to summon me home. And, would you believe it? my Lucretia

consents to accompany me, on condition that I force no gifts upon

her acceptance, but allow her to furnish her house in Munich at her

own expense. Did you ever hear of such disinterestedness? Now I am

about to give you a proof of my confidence, and tell you the name of

my mistress. It is the Countess Canossa. Well!--You are not

overjoyed? You do not understand!--"

"How should I be overjoyed or understand, when I do not know the

lady, Max?"

"Great goodness, is it possible that this unconscionable snail has

lived so closely in his shell that he does not know how fortunate

for him it is, that the Countess Canossa loves me! Hear me, Eugene.

My Lucretia is the sister of the Marquis de Strozzi."

"My enemy!" murmured Eugene, his brow suddenly darkening.

"Yes; but not his sister's friend; for although he makes a

confidante of her, she hates him. Except Victorine, the countess is

the only person permitted to have access to her sister-in-law's

apartments."

Eugene's eyes now brightened with expectation, and he looked

gratefully up into the elector's handsome, flushed face.

"Yes, Eugene, yes," continued Max, "and through her angelic

goodness, you shall visit your Laura. To-day, Lucretia appears as

Mary Stuart, at a masked entertainment given by Admiral Mocenigo.

Before she goes, she is to show off her dress to the poor prisoner

of the Palazzo Strozzi. Her long train is to be borne by a page, who

of course will have to follow whithersoever Mary Stuart goes. This

page is to be yourself, my boy!"

Eugene threw himself into the elector's arms. He was too happy for

speech.

At noon, on the same day, the gondola of the Countess Canossa

stopped before the Palazzo Strozzi. The countess, dressed in a

magnificent costume, went slowly up the marble stairs, her long

train of white satin borne by a page in purple velvet. His face,

like that of his mistress, was hidden by a mask; and the broad red

scarf which was tied around his slender waist, confined a small

dagger whose hilt was set in precious stones. His eyes were so large

and bright that the mask could not entirely conceal their beauty;

and it was perhaps because of their splendor that the porter

hesitated to admit him within the palace.

The countess, who had gone a few steps before, turned carelessly

round, and asked why her page did not follow.

"Your ladyship," replied Beppo, the porter, "the marquis has

forbidden the admission of strangers."

"And you call that poor, little fellow of mine a stranger? You might

as well ask me to cut off my train, as expect me to wear it without

my page!--Come, Filippo, come!"

Filippo passed on, while the old porter grumbled.

"Never mind, Beppo," said the countess, looking back kindly, "I will

tell my brother of your over-watchfulness, and inform him what a

love of a Cerberus he has for a porter." And on she went, having

reached the top of the staircase, before Filippo and the train had

gone half way.

Mademoiselle Victorine was awaiting their arrival, and made a

profound courtesy to Lucretia.

"Signora, the marchioness awaits you in her boudoir."

"And the marquis knows that I am here?"

"Yes, signora. He was anxious to accompany you in your visit to my

lady; but she would not consent; and you know that he dares not go

without it. He never has crossed the threshold of her dressing-

room."

"I know it well. Now go and announce my visit to her. But first, go

to the marquis and tell him that, as soon as I shall have returned

from the apartments of my sister-in-law, I wish to see him in his

cabinet, on important business."

This was spoken in an elevated tone, so that all the spies, whom

Lucretia knew to be eavesdropping around, might hear her words and

repeat them.

"I go, signora," replied Victorine, in the same tone; but she added

in a whisper to the page, "For God's sake, be discreet!"

The lady's maid, in obedience to Lucretia's orders, went directly to

the cabinet of Strozzi, while the countess proceeded in an opposite

direction. At the end of the grand corridor was a lofty door, which,

being shut, the countess remained stationary; while Filippo, who

seemed not to have remarked it, went on with his train, until he

stood immediately behind his mistress.

She chided him for his familiarity. "Back, Filippo," said she,

impatiently. "When I stop, how do you presume to go on? You are too

unmannerly for a page!"

Filippo murmured a few unintelligible words, and retreated, while

the countess knocked several times at the door.

"It is I, Laura, the Countess de Canossa."

If anybody had been near, the beatings of poor Filippo's heart might

have been heard during the pause that ensued before the door was

opened. At length its heavy panels were seen to move, and a sweet,

soft, voice was heard:

"Come in, dear Lucretia."

The countess disappeared within; but scarcely had she entered the

room before she grasped Laura's arm, and hurried her into the room

beyond.

"Not here, not here," whispered she. "Go into your private

apartment, Laura. In this one you would be unsafe. There will be

listeners at the door."

Laura made no reply; she flew back and disappeared behind the

portiere that led into her boudoir. The countess looked back at her

page, who leaned trembling against a marble column close by.

"Shut the door, Filippo," said she, "and await me here. I will see

the marchioness in her boudoir, and Mademoiselle Victorine will be

back presently, to entertain you."

The door was shut, and Filippo, letting Mary Stuart's train drop

without further ceremony, sprang forward and touched the arm of his

royal mistress.

"Where is she?"

"In her boudoir." The page would have gone thither at once; but

Lucretia stopped him. "Mark my words well. Speak low; and when

Victorine summons you away, obey at once, for delay may cost you

your life. And now, impatient youth, begone!"

They were together. Laura would have sprung forward to meet him, but

emotion paralyzed her limbs, and chained her to the floor. He

clasped her in his loving arms, kissed her again and again, and each

felt the wild throbbing of the other's heart. Forgotten were the

long years of their parting, forgotten all doubt, all anguish. It

seemed but yesterday that they had plighted their troth in that

moonlit pavilion; and nothing lay between, save one long night which

now had passed away, leaving the dawn of a day that was radiant with

sunshine.

"I have thee once more, my own! Close--close to my heart, and would

to God thou couldst grow there, blending our dual being into one!"

"Not once more, my Eugene, for thou hast never lost me. I have kept

unstained the faith I pledged, and never have I belonged to any man

but thee!"

"But alas, my treasure, I may not possess thee! Let me at least

drink my fill of thy beauty, my Laura!"

She drew him gently to her divan, and there, just as he had done in

the pavilion, he knelt at her feet, and gazed, enraptured, in her

face. With her little white hands she stroked his black locks, and

lifted them from his pale, high brow.

"My hero," murmured she, tenderly. "Thou hast decked that brow with

laurels since I loved thee, Eugene; and the world has heard of thee

and of thy deeds of valor. I knew it would be so; I knew that the

God of the brave would shield thy dear head in the day of battle,

and lift thee to mountain-heights of glory and renown."

"And yet I would so gladly have yielded up my life, Laura! What was

life without thee? One long night of anguish, to which death would

have been glorious day! Oh, Laura! that day--that fearful day--on

which I was bereft of thee!"

She laid her hand upon his lips. "Do not think of it, beloved, or

thou wilt mar the ecstasy of the present. I, too, have suffered--

more, it must have been more, than thou! And yet in all my anguish I

was happy; for I was faithful, though sorely tried, and never, never

despaired of thy coming."

"And yet thou art the wife of another."

"Say not so. When the priest laid my hand in his, I laid it in

thine. To thee were my promises of fidelity, to thee I plighted my

troth. That another--a liar and deceiver, should have inserted his

odious name for thine, laid his dishonored hand in mine, has never

bound ME! I was, I am, I will ever be thine, so help me, God! who

heard the oath I swore, and knew that, swearing, I believed thee

there!"

"And I could doubt her, my love, my wife! Forgive me, Laura, that in

my madness I should have accused thee."

"All is forgotten, for I have thee here!"

It was well for these impassioned lovers that a friend watched for

them without. Lucretia had mounted guard for half an hour, when

Victorine returned to say that the marquis would be glad to see his

sister; her visit had lasted long enough.

"Take my place, then, Victorine; holt the door, and admit nobody."

"Oh, signora, if the marquis finds us out, he will assassinate me!"

said Victorine, trembling.

"He will not find us out; and you can very well endure some little

uneasiness, when for a few nervous twitches you are to receive two

thousand sequins. Think that, by to-night, you will be on your way

to Paris."

"Would to God I were there, away from this frightful robbers' nest!"

Lucretia laughed. "You flatter the city of Venice. But I am not

surprised that you are not in love with the Palazzo Strozzi, for

when its master is contradicted, he is a raging tiger, whose thirst

nothing save human blood will quench."

"O God! O Lord! I am almost dead with fright!"

"Have patience, mademoiselle. Look at yonder clock on the mantel.

Precisely at the expiration of one hour, come with your message to

my brother's cabinet. That will be the signal for your release. Are

your effects out of the palace?"

"Yes, signora; they are all at the hotel of the Marquis de Villars."

"And the gondola of the elector will be here to speak the prince's

adieux. Now remain just where you are; and, instead of opening your

ears to what is passing in yonder boudoir, make use of your leisure

to say your prayers, which you may possibly have forgotten this

morning."

The countess lifted up her long train, and, passing it over her arm,

went on her way to meet the amiable Strozzi.

"Really, Ottario," said she, entering the cabinet, "your palace is

singularly like a prison. As I came through the corridor, I felt as

if I were passing over the Ponte de' Sospiri. The atmosphere of the

place is heavy with your jealous sighs."

"True; there is little happiness under the marble dome of my palace.

But let us speak of other things. What can I do to serve you?"

"You seem to intimate that I can never desire to speak with you,

except to ask a favor."

"I find that, generally speaking, the case."

"For once you are mistaken. I want nothing from you whatever."

"You seem to have grown rich by some legerdemain or other, Lucretia.

I hear that you have refitted your palace with great magnificence.

Has Canossa come into a fortune? or has he been winning at the card-

table?"

"Neither; but it was precisely of my newly acquired wealth that I

came to speak with you. I am about to quit Venice, perhaps forever;

and before leaving I wished to have an explanation with you."

"Gracious Heaven! who will take your place by Laura?"

"Very flattering that my departure occasions no emotion in my

brother's fond heart, save regret for the loss of his spy! But never

mind, I overlook the slight, and proceed with my confession."

So Lucretia went over all the humiliations and hardships she had

undergone within the past six months; and, after dwelling

pathetically upon her own sufferings, she related the manner of her

meeting with the Elector of Bavaria, and its consequences. They

loved each other to adoration; he lavished every gift upon her that

his wealth could purchase, and now she was about to give him

substantial proof of her attachment, by going off with him to

Munich. No mention was made, in the recital, of her episode with the

French minister.

The countess had barely arrived at the end of her confidences, when

a knock was heard, and Mademoiselle Victorine walked in with a

message from the marchioness.

"What message?" cried Strozzi, rising at once to receive it.

"Pardon me, excellenza, it is only a message for the signora," said

Victorine, courtesying. "My lady wishes to know if the countess has

the French book that she promised to bring to-day?"

"Dear me! I had forgotten it," cried the countess. "But stay,

Victorine, it is in the gondola below. Let little Filippo go after

it."

"Who is Filippo?" asked the marquis, frowning.

"My page, to be sure. Have you never seen him? Of course I could not

carry Mary Stuart's long train up the staircase without a page to

help me."

"And he is here, in the palace?"

"Of course he is: where else should the child be but here with me?

And, as I was not anxious to have him eavesdropping about your

cabinet while we were conversing, I gave him in charge to

Victorine."

"I shall discharge Beppo," growled the marquis. "How dared he--"

"Let me intercede for poor Beppo," laughed Lucretia. "He would have

kept out Filippo, but I insisted that your prohibition could not

extend to boys, and I insisted upon having him to carry my train.

Since his presence here annoys you, he shall be made to leave, and

await me in my gondola."

"But the book, signora," said Victorine, with quivering lip.

"True--the book for Laura. Will you permit Victorine to go with

Filippo, and get it? But bless me! Without her protection, Beppo

would not allow him to pass. You consent for her to accompany him?"

"Yes," said Strozzi, roughly. "But if ever you come again, leave

your page at home."

"The watchword, signor?" asked Victorine.

"Venetia," returned Strozzi.

"What!" exclaimed Lucretia, "does Victorine, too, need a password to

leave the palace? My dear brother, I admire your genius! You are

qualified to make a first-rate jailer."

Mademoiselle Victorine had not tarried to hear the ironical

compliment of the countess. She flew along the corridor to the

apartments of the marchioness, and, first knocking at the door, she

drew back the portiere.

"Your highness," said she, "the hour has expired." Then dropping the

portiere, that the lovers might part without witnesses, she waited

without.

Laura's arms were around his neck. Eugene drew her passionately to

his heart. "Must I then go without thee?" murmured he.

"Yes, my Eugene; this time thou goest alone. But be patient and

hopeful, and thy spouse will find means to escape from her jailer."

"I cannot go," cried Eugene, despairingly. "Nor can I leave my

enemy's house like a frightened cur, while the woman I love remains

to bear his anger. He must--he shall renounce my wife!"

"That is, you would see me murdered before your eyes!" exclaimed

Laura, well knowing what argument would move him most to discretion.

"Eugene, he has sworn to assassinate me, if I ever speak to you--

and, believe me, he will keep his oath."

"And I must leave my treasure in his bloodthirsty hands?" cried the

prince, pressing her still more closely in his arms.

"The tiger will do me no harm, Eugene, if thou wilt go before he

sees thee."

"Your highness," said Victorine, imploringly through the portiere,

"for God's sake, tarry no longer!"

Laura, freeing herself from his embrace, led him to the door.

"Farewell, my beloved," said she. "God is merciful, and will reunite

us."

"One more look into those dear eyes, one more kiss from those sweet

lips."

"Oh, your highness!" whispered Victorine, a second time.

Laura raised the portiere, and led him forward. She saw Victorine

reach him his mask, and then, darting back into her boudoir, she

fell upon her knees, and prayed for an hour.

Meanwhile the Countess Lucretia was still discussing her affairs;

but she seemed to have become absent-minded, sometimes stopping

suddenly in her sp'eech to listen, occasionally directing anxious

glances toward the windows.

The marquis was too keen for these symptoms to escape his

penetration.

"Are you watching or waiting for any thing?" asked he.

"Yes," replied she, "I await something, and--oh! there it is!"

As she spoke these last words, a voice from the water called out

three times: "Addio! addio! addio!"

"Do you know what that 'addio' signifies?" asked Lucretia.

"How can I understand the signals that pass between you and your

loves?"

"I will tell you what it means," said she, looking full into her

brother's face. "I--but no! your eyes glare too fiercely just now;

you are ready for a spring, and I dare not wait to be devoured.

Addio, Ottario, addio. Take this note, and swear that you will not

open it before ten minutes."

"What childishness!" exclaimed Strozzi, rudely.

"You will not? Then you shall not see its contents, which,

nevertheless, concern your Laura."

"Laura!--Then I swear that I will not open it before ten minutes."

"It is on the table. Be careful how you break your oath. You would

not be safe were you to unfold that paper before ten minutes."

So saying, she kissed her hand, and tripped merrily away to her

gondola.

At the expiration of the time required, Strozzi took up the paper,

and broke its seal. It contained the following:

"MY DEAR BROTHER: You sold me to Count Canossa, and you have

degraded me to the trade of a spy. You have forced me, more than

once, to play the dragon by your poor, unhappy wife; but I have

repaid her for my unkindness, and have avenged myself also. My

little Filippo is Prince Eugene, and he is to remain alone with your

wife, exactly as long as I converse with you in your cabinet. The

three 'addios' which you will have heard ere this from the Canale,

signify that the prince has reached his gondola, and is safe. Also

that Mademoiselle Victorine, my accomplice, has fled. You gave her

ten ducats for each betrayal of her mistress; we offered two

thousand sequins, and of course she betrayed you. Addio!"

To describe the fury of the marquis would be impossible. But his

paroxysm of rage over, he at once began to revolve in his mind the

means of revenge.

"There must be an end to this martyrdom," said he. "It must end!" He

looked at the clock. "'Tis time Antonio were here, and he shall do

it."

He struck three times on his little bell, and the door in the wall

glided back, giving entrance to Antonio.

CHAPTER VIII.

ANTONIO'S EXPIATION.

The next morning Antonio asked admittance to the cabinet of his new

employer.

"Your highness," said he, "I have seen the marchioness."

"What greeting does she send, good Antonio?"

"My lord, she awaits Filippo at eight o'clock this evening."

"She awaits me!" echoed Eugene. "And you are to conduct me to her?"

"Yes, my lord. I am acquainted with the secret passages of the

palace. I will show you the way, and, as God in heaven hears me, I

will bring you safely back."

"How solemnly you speak, Antonio!"

"Ah, excellenza, it is easier to enter that palace than to leave it!

But you shall leave it in safety, as I hope to be saved from

perdition!"

"At what hour did you say?"

"At eight this evening. And now, my lord, allow me to leave you for

a time. The marquis requires me to remain at the palace, and I must

be punctual, or he will suspect me. You will be obliged to engage

another commissionnaire; but, believe me, I shall better serve you

in the palace than here."

Antonio was allowed to depart; but instead of going toward the

Strozzi palace, he betook himself to that of the Elector of Bavaria,

where the household were in that state of confusion which precedes a

departure. The elector had chosen to leave Venice by night.

"I have an important message from my lord, Prince Eugene of Savoy to

his highness of Bavaria," said Antonio, making his way through the

busy throng of servants. "Is he in his cabinet?"

"Yes, The chamberlain is in the anteroom. He will announce you."

"His highness will receive the messenger of Prince Eugene," was the

reply; and Antonio, having been admitted, had a conversation of some

length with the elector, which left the latter in a state of great

agitation.

"I wish it were in my power to render assistance; but I dare not. He

made me promise that I would not interfere in any way; and I must

keep my word. I would but act in the dark, and might ruin him.--And

now to Lucretia, to devise other means of rescue, if these should

fail--" After leaving the elector, Antonio directed his steps toward

the prison near the palace of the doge. The porter that stood near

the grated door looked searchingly at the mask that presumed to

tarry before those dismal gates whereof he was the guardian.

"Would you earn a thousand sequins?" said Antonio, in a whisper.

"How?" asked the porter, opening his eyes like two full moons.

"Do you know in which cell Catherina Giamberta is confined?"

"Yes, I know."

"Take this flower to her. It is her birthday, and she loves flowers.

Tell her it comes from Antonio, and ask her to send him the ribbon

she wears around her neck. If you return with it, I will give you

one thousand sequins."

He handed the porter a large rose, whose stem was carefully wrapped

in paper. Christiano scarcely saw what it was, so dazzled were his

eyes by the approaching glitter of a thousand sequins. But he thrust

it in his bosom, drew the bolts of his prison, and disappeared

within its gloomy depths.

Antonio leaned his head against the clammy prison-wall and waited.

In half an hour the turnkey returned.

"Have you your thousand sequins with you?" asked he.

"Here they are," said Antonio, drawing from his cloak a purse,

through whose dingy silk meshes the gold was visible.

The turnkey put his hand through the grate, and Antonio saw a faded,

yellow paper, tied with a silken cord. He took the packet, and in

return gave Christiano the purse. As he did so, he said: "Make good

use of it; I have passed through five years of misery to earn it.

Make good use of it, and if you will have a mass said for the repose

of my soul, 'tis all I ask in addition to the service you have just

rendered me."

He turned away, and, hurriedly taking the direction of St. Mark's,

entered a side-door, and stood within its sacred walls. The church

was empty and dimly lighted. Antonio knelt down behind one of the

pillars, and opened the paper.

It contained a lock of golden hair--the hair of a child. The bravo

pressed it to his lips, and, murmuring a few fond words, laid it

lovingly upon his heart, and began to pray. When his prayer was

ended, he approached a confessional wherein sat an old Benedictine

monk, and, kneeling down, began his confession.

The recital was a long, and apparently a terrible one; for more than

once the monk shuddered, and his venerable face was mournfully

upraised as if in prayer for the penitent. When Antonio ceased, he

remained silent, still praying.

"Reverend father," murmured the bravo, "may I not receive absolution

for my sins!"

"Yes, my son, you shall receive such absolution as it rests with me

to give. If, as I hope, you are truly repentant, God will do the

rest. You have sinned grievously, but you are ready to expiate." And

the priest performed the ceremony of absolution.

"Reverend father, give me your blessing--your blessing in articulo

mortis."

"Come hither and receive it."

Antonio emerged from the confessional, and knelt on the marble

pavement, while the rays from a stained window above fell upon his

head like a soft, golden halo. The priest, too, stepped out, and,

laying his hand upon that bowed head, made the sign of the cross,

and blessed him in articulo mortis. Then going slowly up the aisle,

and kneeling within the sanctuary, he passed the night in praying

for a soul that was about to depart this world.

CHAPTER IX.

THE DUNGEON.

The clock on the Campanillo of St. Mark's struck eight. The day of

longing expectation had at last worn away, and Eugene was once more

to be admitted to the presence of his beloved.

Before leaving his cabinet he had sent for Antonio, and, reaching

him a purse of gold, had said: "Here, my brave--here are two hundred

ducats. Take this purse, and, when you make use of its contents,

remember that I gave it as a token of my gratitude for your fidelity

and friendship."

"No, your highness," replied Antonio, in a tearful voice--"no, your

highness, I need no gold. If you would give me a souvenir, let me

have the glove that has covered the right hand of a hero whose sword

has never been unsheathed save in the cause of right."

"Singular man," exclaimed Eugene, "take them both, and believe that

I thank you for your attachment. And now, let us away!"

"Yes, my lord; but I implore you, not this rich cloak of velvet.

Take this black wrapping of cloth; it is more appropriate for an

adventure such as ours."

The little gondola lay moored at the stairs, without gondolier or

light. Nobody was there except Eugene and Antonio, who rowed without

help. They made for a channel leading to a wing of the Palace

Strozzi, whose dark, frowning walls, unrelieved by one single

opening, were laved by the foul and turbid waters of the narrow

estuary. Antonio's practised eye discovered the low opening that

gave access to the palace; and, after fastening his gondola to a

ring in the wall, he knocked three times at the door. It was opened,

and they entered a small vestibule, dimly lighted, where they were

confronted by a man who asked for the password.

Antonio whispered something in his ear, and they were permitted to

ascend a steep, narrow staircase leading to a passage so contracted

that Eugene's shoulders touched on either side, as he struggled

along toward a second staircase. When they had reached the last

step, Antonio said: "We have no farther to go. Pass in, signor, and,

whatever ensues, remember that you must patiently await my return."

A door opened, Eugene passed through, and it closed behind him. He

was in a room of singular shape and construction. It was a rotunda,

whose blank walls were without opening whatsoever; neither door nor

window was to be seen therein. Suspended from the lofty ceiling was

an iron chain, to which was attached a small lamp, whose light fell

directly over a table that stood in the centre of the room. On the

table lay a piece of bread and a glass of water; near it was placed

a wooden chair, and this was all the furniture contained within the

dismal apartment.

"A dungeon," said Eugene to himself. "One of those dungeons of which

I have heard, but in whose existence I never believed until now."

He was perfectly collected; but he comprehended his position, and

knew that he had been betrayed. He had been lured into this secret

prison, there to die without a sign! But he must make one desperate

effort to escape. Death he could confront--even the death that

stared him in the face; but to know that Laura would be doomed to a

life of utter wretchedness, was a thought that almost unsettled his

reason.

He surveyed the place, and then felt every stone, every crevice,

that came within his reach. As he raised his mournful eyes to look

above him, the wall just below the ceiling began to move, a small

window was opened, and within its iron frame appeared a pale,

sinister face--the face of the Marquis de Strozzi.

Eugene tore the mask from his face, and his large eyes flashed with

scorn.

"Assassin!" cried he, "cowardly assassin!"

The marquis laughed; he could afford to laugh. "Yes." said he, "I am

any thing you may please to term me; but you, Prince of Savoy, are

no longer among the living. Your days are numbered: farewell!"

The window closed, and the wall moved slowly back until no trace of

the opening was to be seen. A dungeon! A grave! Eugene of Savoy

would die of hunger! no human ear would hear his dying plaint;

within a few steps of one that loved him he would disappear from

earth; and, until the great day whereon hell would yield up its

secrets of horror to the Eternal Judge, his fate would remain a

mystery! Alas! alas! And was this to be the end of his aspirations

for glory?

But hark! What sound is that? The invisible door, for which he had

been groping in vain, was once more opened, and Antonio glided

noiselessly into the room.

He raised his hand in token of warning. "Not a word, my lord,"

whispered he. "I come to save you."

"To save me, traitor! You, the despicable tool of Strozzi?"

"Oh, my lord! Have mercy, have mercy! Every moment is precious:

listen to me, listen to me!"

Antonio sank on his knees, the mask dropped from his face, and his

pale, suffering countenance wore any aspect but that of treachery.

"In the name of the Marchioness Laura Bonaletta, hear me," said he,

imploringly.

"Laura Bonaletta!" echoed Eugene, in a voice of piercing anguish.

"What can such as you know of Laura Bonaletta?"

Antonio gave him a folded paper containing these few lines: "If thou

lovest me, do as Antonio bids thee. If thou wouldst not have me die

of grief, accept thy life from Antonio's hands, and oh, love!

believe me, we shall meet again. Thy Laura."

Eugene pressed the paper to his lips, and when he looked at Antonio

again, his eye had lost its sternness, and about his lips there

fluttered a sad smile.

"What does this mean, Antonio?" said he.

"Excellenza, it means that I was a hardened sinner until you rescued

my soul from perdition. Would that I had time to lay before you the

sins of my whole life, that you might know from what depths of crime

you delivered me! But time is precious. I can only say that I am no

brave soldier that was scarred in battle. This wound upon my face

was from the hand of my father, and, for the crime of his murder, my

right hand was hewed by the arm of the executioner. Nay--do not

start, my dear, dear lord! 'Tis you that brought me to repentance;

'tis you that inspired me to seek reconciliation with Heaven. I came

to you a bravo--the emissary of the Marquis Strozzi; but when you

touched my mutilated arm with your honored hand--when you trusted me

because you believed me to be brave--I swore in my heart that you at

least I would not betray. 'Tis true, I led you hither where Strozzi

would have left you to die of hunger. Ah. my lord! you are not the

first that has looked upon these cruel walls. Giuseppi, the

gondolier whom the countess loved--he, too, poor youth. came hither-

-and six days after I was sent for his corpse, and consigned it to

the sullen waters of the lagoon, that covers the secrets of

Strozzi's atrocious murders."

"But why, then, did you not warn me?"

"Because Strozzi would have murdered me, and employed another man to

betray you into his hands. Or, if you had believed me, you might

have remained in Venice, and you must, fly this very night--this

very hour. Until you are safe, Strozzi must believe that you are his

prisoner."

"Am I, then, forever doomed to turn my back upon this man?"

"My lord, my lord, no vain scruples! The Marchioness Bonaletta will

die if you do not live to rescue her from his tyranny."

Eugene grasped his arm. "Ah, yes, indeed! Then come, Antonio--let us

fly."

"My dear lord, one man only can leave this room. The porter is ready

with his dagger if both should attempt to pass."

"You would remain here in my place! You would sacrifice your life to

liberate me, Antonio!"

"The parricide would fain be at rest," replied Antonio, gently. "The

sinner would gladly suffer death, that, expiating his crimes, he may

hope to be forgiven by his Maker."

"Never will I purchase life at such a price," was the reply of the

prince.

"My life is accursed," said Antonio; "my death will be triumphant.

My lord, if you knew how I longed for death, you would not refuse me

the blessing I covet. My Catherina ere this awaits me in the other

world; I long to rejoin her--I long to obtain the pardon of my

murdered father."

Eugene's face was buried in his hands, and he was weeping. "I

cannot, I cannot," gasped he.

"You would drive your Laura to despair, then? You would go to your

grave without renown?"

"No; I would live. Come: we can overpower the porter--if nothing

less will save us, we can kill him."

"Before he dies he will call for help, and help will be near. But

one of us can escape; and, by my eternal salvation, I swear that I

will not be that one! Away with you! Away! In a moment it will he

too late! Do you not hear me? Whether you go or stay, I never will

leave this place again!"

Eugene staggered against the wall, and sighed heavily. Antonio knelt

at his feet. At last he murmured almost inaudibly, "I will go."

Antonio sprang from his knees, threw his cloak around the prince,

and, with eager, trembling hands, adjusted his mask.

"Thank God!" said he, "we are of the same size and build. There is

not the least danger of recognition. The porter will suspect

nothing. The pass word is, 'One of two.' The gondola is moored in

the place where we left it, and your friends are at the landing,

awaiting you now. The marchioness knows that you are to leave Venice

to-night, God in heaven bless you. And now away!"

"Antonio," replied Eugene, greatly affected, "with my latest breath

I will bless and thank you."

Then folding the bravo in his arms, he would have spoken his thanks

again, but Antonio hurried him away, closed the door, and then fell

upon his knees to pray.

The password was spoken, the door was opened, and Eugene was saved!

He sprang into the gondola, and it flew across those sullen waters

like an arrow. As he reached the landing, a well-known voice called

out, "Eugene!"

"Max Emmanuel, I am here!" was the reply, and the friends were

locked in each other's arms.

At length the elector spoke:--"I have confronted death," said he,

"but never in my life have I passed an hour of such anguish as this.

Come, Eugene, yonder lies the ship that is to bear us away from this

sin-laden city. Step into my gondola, we have not a moment to lose."

They rowed to the ship's side; they mounted the ladder, and before

the dawn of day Venice with her palaces and their secret prisons had

disappeared, and the friends were far on their way to Trieste.

BOOK V

CHAPTER I

A TWOFOLD VICTORY

The winter of 1688 had gone by; the snows were melting from the

bosom of reviving earth; and the trees that bordered the avenues of

the Prater were bursting into life. At the court of Austria nobody

welcomed spring; for its approach betokened the cessation of gayety,

and the resumption of hostilities. The year 1687 had been rendered

illustrious in the annals of Austrian history, by Charles of

Lorraine, who, on the 12th of August, had gained a signal victory

over the Turks. The rebellion in Hungary, if not suppressed, was

smothered; for the weary and exhausted Magyars had been totally

crushed by the iron heel of General Caraffa, and they had submitted

to Austria. The conditions of the surrender were hard: they demanded

the relinquishment of some of the dearest rights of the liberty-

loving Hungarians. First, they were to renounce all right of

resistance against the King of Hungary; second, they were no longer

to elect their own sovereigns; the crown of Hungary was made

hereditary in the house of the Emperors of Austria. The Archduke

Joseph, then ten years of age, was crowned king; and the Hungarians

were compelled to take the oath of allegiance to this irresponsible

sovereign.

This being a decisive victory, the campaign ended early, and the

season of festivity had therefore been a prolonged one. Not only the

aristocracy of Vienna had celebrated the heroism of the victors by

balls, concerts, and assemblies, but the emperor himself sometimes

prevailed upon his retiring and devout empress to participate in the

national gayety, by giving entertainments to her subjects at the

imperial palace.

It was the festival of the Empress Eleanora, and the day was to be

celebrated by the production of a new opera, entitled "Il Porno

d'Oro." The rehearsals had been superintended by the emperor in

person; he had suggested and directed the scenery and decorations,

and, to the great scandal of his confessor, Father Bischof, Leopold

had more than once curtailed his devotions, to attend these

rehearsals.

On the day of the performance the emperor retired early to his

dressing-room, and, to honor the festival of his consort, arrayed

himself with imperial magnificence. His doublet was of cloth of

gold, edged with fringe of the same; his cloak of purple velvet,

richly embroidered, was fastened on the shoulder by an agraffe of

superb diamonds. The breeches, reaching to the knee, were of velvet,

like the cloak; and the hose, like the doublet, were of cloth of

gold. The shoes of purple velvet were fastened with buckles of

diamonds to correspond with the agraffe of the cloak. His ruff was

of gold lace, his hat was decorated with a long white plume, and on

his breast he wore the splendid order of the Golden Fleece.

When Leopold entered his music-room, Kircherus, who was there,

awaiting him, could not repress an exclamation of wonder at the

dazzling apparition.

"You are amazed at my magnificence," said the emperor, laughing.

"Your majesty, say rather that I am struck with admiration than with

amazement. You are as glorious as the god of day; and if the Muses

were to trip by, they would surely mistake you for their Phoebus,

and, quitting Parnassus, make themselves at home in Vienna."

"And be driven away with contumely; for, being heathen maidens,

Father Bischof would speedily exorcise and exile them back to

Greece. And now tell me what you think of the new opera. Do you

expect it to be successful?"

"Indeed I do, your majesty. It is, to my mind, heavenly."

"And to mine also. 'Tis the very music with which to lull the dying

soul to rest. I have spared nothing to bring it out handsomely, and

it has certainly been a golden apple to my purse, for it has already

cost me thirty thousand ducats. But I tell you this in confidence,

Kircherus: were my generals to hear of it, they would cry out that

money is to be had for every thing except the army."

"I wish there were no army to swallow up your majesty's resources,

and that we might be allowed to enjoy our music in peace," growled

Kircherus.

"Hush, Kircherus; you are an artiste, and know nothing of the

exigencies of political existence. I would I were such a heavenly

idiot as you; but God has decreed otherwise. It is my duty to

declare war or peace, as becomes the ruler of a great people; and so

disinclined am I to strife, and so inclined to peaceful arts, that I

sometimes think I have been purposely thwarted by God, and cast upon

an epoch of perplexity and dissension, that my character might be

invigorated by its exigencies. Even now I go reluctantly from art,

to hold a council of war. I fear it is about to be anything but

amicable; so, do your best to console me on my return, and see that

all goes well as regards the opera."

The officers of the war department had been for more than half an

hour awaiting the appearance of the emperor. One only was absent,

the Duke of Lorraine, who had excused himself on a plea of

indisposition.

"He is craftier than I had supposed," said the Margrave of Baden to

his nephew. "He avoids the unpleasant responsibilities of debate,

and shields himself behind the orders of the emperor."

"Because he awaits a reappointment to the chief command," replied

Louis. "For him is the glory of our victories; for us the danger.

But I have a missile to throw into the camp of the enemy; it is from

Max Emmanuel, who votes with us."

"Ah, indeed!" said the margrave, with a satisfied air. "Then I think

we may hope to thwart this insolent pretender, who considers me

incapable of directing the war department of Austria."

"He has offered me a public affront," returned Louis, indignantly.

"I had a right to command the Slavonian cavalry; and he bestowed it

upon Dunewald, who is nothing but his creature. I have therefore

followed the example of Max Emmanuel, and shall resign my commission

to-day."

"I would give millions if, after your defection, he were defeated by

the Turks. But he has the most unconscionable luck. And then, that

silly Prince of Savoy, who blows such blasts in his praise. Louis,

you ought not to be so intimate with Prince Eugene--he is one of our

enemies."

"Oh no," replied Louis, smiling. "Eugene is the enemy of no man. Say

nothing against HIM, uncle, if you love me. He is a youth of noble

spirit, incapable of envy; recognizing every soldier's merit except

his own. Our cousin of Savoy is destined to become a great man."

"He is already a great man," replied the margrave, with a sneer.

"Not twenty-five years of age, and a knight of the Golden Fleece--a

protege of the emperor, the favorite of Charles of Lorraine!"

At this moment the doors were opened, and Leopold, followed by a

small, slender officer, entered the council-chamber.

"The Prince of Savoy!" muttered the margrave, impatiently.

"Eugene!" said Louis to himself, as, bowing his head with the rest,

he wondered what could be the meaning of his cousin's presence.

"My lords," said the emperor, taking his seat, "I have invited

Prince Eugene of Savoy to assist at this council--not only as a

listener, but as one of us; and I shall call upon him to give his

opinion as such, upon the matters that come under discussion to-

day."

"Pardon me, your majesty, if, as president of this council, I remind

you that the Prince of Savoy is too young and inexperienced for such

a discussion, and that no man in active service, under the rank of a

field-marshal, ever participates in the debates of the war

department."

"Your highness is quite right, and I thank you for the reminder. We

have no desire to infringe the etiquette of the council-chamber; and

as we have invited the prince therein, we must repair our oversight

by qualifying him to sit.--Prince of Savoy, we hereby create you

field-marshal, and trust that, as such, you may win so many laurels

that the world will pardon your youth in favor of your genius."

Eugene crimsoned to his temples, and kissed the hand which Leopold

extended. "My liege," said he, in a voice choked with emotion, "your

majesty heaps coals of fire on my head. May God give me grace to

earn these unparalleled honors!"

"You have already earned them," replied Leopold, "and Austria is

proud to have won such a hero to her cause.--And now, my lords, to

business. President of the council, what is the condition of our

army at present?"

"Your majesty, the army is not, as yet, armed and provisioned; but

it will he in a condition to oppose the enemy as soon as the marshes

of Hungary are sufficiently dry to allow of an advance."

"That means simply that nothing has been done," replied the emperor,

in tones of dissatisfaction, "and that the winter has been spent in

total inaction. It means also that this year as well as last our

soldiers are to feel the want of the necessaries of life; and that

for lack of money, munition, and stores, our most advantageous

marches will have to be relinquished."

"I see that the Duke of Lorraine has already accused and calumniated

me," said the margrave, sullenly.

"The Duke of Lorraine has at times complained of the want of

munition, stores, and forage; but he neither calumniates nor accuses

any one. He has remarked that, instead of being sustained by the war

department, he has been hampered and harassed by its opposition to

his plans. Even his officers have manifested a spirit of such

insubordination, that they have seriously interfered with his

successes."

"That means that he has complained of me," interposed Louis of

Baden.

"Yes, margrave, it does; and we are both surprised that a hero of

your recognized ability and renown should fail in a soldier's first

duty--obedience to orders."

"Your majesty," exclaimed Louis, "I am no subordinate officer to

receive or obey orders from another! I am an independent prince of

the German empire, in every respect the equal of the Duke of

Lorraine."

"Except as an officer in the Austrian army," replied Leopold, "in

which character the Duke of Lorraine is your chief. You have not

sufficiently considered this matter of your rank as an officer in my

service; let me hope that, for the future, you will acknowledge and

respect the authority of your commander-in-chief. I myself have

found him ever ready to acknowledge and respect mine."

"The will of the emperor, to us, is law," said the Margrave Herman.

"But your imperial majesty has hitherto exacted of your officers

that they should receive your mandates through the medium of the

minister of war. The Duke of Lorraine, who claims such strict

obedience from others, has set at defiance the mandates issued from

this council-chamber. As president of the same, I complain of the

insubordination of your majesty's commander-in-chief. He has not

carried out the orders received from the war department."

"He would have been more than mortal had he done so; for the war

department has required of him feats that were physically

impossible. We can trace out upon this green cloth before me any

number of strategic movements, which, supposing the enemy to be of

one mind with ourselves, would annihilate him beyond a doubt. But as

he is apt to do the very reverse of what we would prescribe, the man

upon whom rests the responsibility of confronting him, must use his

reason, and modify orders according to circumstances. What is to be,

you cannot include in your paper plans of attack; but the Duke of

Lorraine has met every emergency as it presented itself on the

field, and every true Austrian should be his friend."

"Your majesty," cried the margrave, greatly irritated, "the

president of this council must nevertheless persist in his

conviction that the highest court of military jurisdiction is here,

and that the commander-in-chief of the army is its subordinate."

"You mistake the extent of its power," replied the emperor, with

composure. "It is merely expected of the general-in-chief that he

act in concert with the war department."

"Which the Duke of Lorraine has never done!" cried the margrave,

impetuously.

"Perhaps the blame lay in the injudicious exactions of the minister

of war," replied Leopold, carelessly; "and if, despite of all the

obstacles that were placed in his way, he has subdued Hungary, you

have no part in his glory, my lord; for in every case your judgment

has been contrary to his."

"It follows, then, that I have not filled my office to the

satisfaction of your majesty," said the margrave, choking with

anger.

"I regret to say that I have less confidence in your judgment than

in your ability, my lord; the former is unhappily often obscured by

prejudice," replied Leopold, calmly.

"Your majesty," cried the margrave, "in this case I shall feel

compelled--"

"I do not wish you to say or do any thing on compulsion, my lord; I

prefer to assign you a position in which your talents, being

unfettered by your antipathies, will shine with undimmed lustre. You

have complained of late that the duties of the war department have

become irksome to you; if so, I can give you an appointment less

onerous to you, but equally important to the state. I am just now in

need of an intelligent representative before the imperial Diet. This

charge I commit to you, premising that you must start for your post

immediately, that you may infuse some life into the stagnant

councils of the ambassadors of the princes of Germany."

"Your majesty wishes to banish me from court?" asked the margrave,

pale with anger.

"Certainly not, your highness," replied the emperor, gently. "I send

you on an honorable embassy, and one whereat I need a capable and

fearless advocate. The question to be decided before the imperial

Diet is one of life or death to Austria, nay--to Germany. France is

evidently preparing for war with the German empire. Her fortresses

on the eastern frontier are all garrisoned; her troops are

approaching; and under some pretext or other, they will cross our

boundary lines. This being the case, the princes of the empire must

cease their everlasting petty dissensions, and band themselves

together for the defence of Germany. Be it your task to strengthen

the bond of unity between them, and to convince them that in close

alliance with Austria safety is to be found for all. I know of no

man who can serve my interests at Regensburg as well as you, my

lord; while, happily, I can find a substitute for your presidential

chair at home, in Count von Starhemberg. And now, farewell; and let

me hear from you as soon as possible."

The emperor extended his hand to the margrave, who, scarcely able to

control his dissatisfaction, barely raised it to his lips, and

hurried away.

"My lords," said the emperor, "let us proceed to business. The

spring is nigh, and a new campaign is about to be planned. Count von

Starhemberg, as president of this assembly, will be so good as to

impart his views."

Count von Starhemberg bowed:--"Your majesty, it appears to me that

our policy is to avoid a general engagement. The end of this

campaign is the reduction of Belgrade, and great precaution must be

used if we are to succeed. I would divide the army, so as to begin

operations at three points simultaneously, and weaken the enemy, by

scattering his forces. By detaching, we can easily defeat them, and

capture their arsenals. This accomplished, we proceed to Belgrade,

and, with the conquest of this Turkish stronghold, we end not only

the campaign, but the war."

As Von Starhemberg concluded this harangue, the emperor addressed

himself to Prince Louis of Baden.

"Your majesty," replied he, "I have no opinion to offer, for my

views coincide altogether with those of Count von Starhemberg."

"And you, Count von Kinsky?"

"Your majesty, I sustain the president."

The same replies were forthcoming from Counts Liechtenstein and

Puchta, and the emperor, having heard each one, relapsed into

silence. After a pause, he spoke. "There reigns a remarkable

unanimity of opinion here, among the councils of the war

department," said he, with some emphasis. "Five members having but

one mind as to the prosecution of the war! Not one variation from

the plan of the president--not one suggestion--not even from so

experienced and able a general as Louis of Baden! This is singular

and surprising. We have yet to hear the youngest member of the

council. Field-Marshal Prince of Savoy, speak without restraint, and

fear not to express your own views."

"Pardon me, your majesty," said Eugene, blushing, "if I venture to

dissent from the opinions expressed by those who are my seniors in

years, and my superiors in experience. But it is the duty of a man,

when called upon to speak, to speak honestly; and I should be untrue

to my most earnest convictions, were I to give in my adherence to

the plan proposed."

Amazement was depicted upon the faces of the assembled councillors;

not only amazement, but disapprobation of Eugene's boldness. The

emperor, however, looked kindly at the prince, and bade him proceed.