Another spring appeared, and for the second time the garden became
green; then the same flowers raised their heads towards the sun. Cosel
opened the window; the day was warm; the air quiet and mild.
While sitting in her little garden she could see the soldiers and
officers passing through the courtyard, from which she was separated by
a low wall. The proud lady did not like her fallen grandeur to be
looked at, but, being weary, she was glad sometimes to see a human
face, forgetting that she was queen. And sometimes a soldier stood
looking at her with commiseration, and the younger officers lost their
heads when they looked for long into her burning black eyes.
One of those who walked very often in the neighbourhood of the garden
as a pretext for approaching the beautiful woman was young Wehlen,
nephew of the commandant. The old man kept him for two reasons; to have
a partner for his game of draughts, and to look after his military
career.
Henry von Wehlen did not like the service, but his mother, wishing him
to be made heir by the commandant, who was an old and rich bachelor,
persuaded her son to obey him. This twenty-year old Wehlen found life
terribly dull on the basalt rock of Stolpen, but could not escape from
it.
What bliss, then, for the young man dreaming in solitude was the
arrival of such a beautiful if unhappy prisoner! At the first sight of
Anna, Henry lost his head. He could not understand how they could keep
such an ideal of an earthly goddess between walls, and let her die
little by little. With the ardour of first, pure, exalted, but
concealed love, young Wehlen was attracted towards the beautiful woman.
The old commandant did not notice these sentiments in his nephew. He
was the most prosaic of men, and did not care for feminine beauty.
Formerly he had a smile for them all, but now for none of them.
It was Henry who had carefully suggested to him to permit the Countess
to enjoy the garden. Very often acting as lieutenant to his uncle, he
was practically master of the castle, and Cosel knew well that she
could count on him, although she seldom deigned to look at him. She
preferred to wait for Zaklika.
How great was her surprise and pleasure one day, on going into the
garden, to perceive Henry Wehlen and Zaklika in the courtyard, talking
quite amicably. The latter she recognized by his voice, for the uniform
altered his appearance very much. She could hear the loud conversation;
Zaklika was telling him that he succeeded Captain Zitaner, who was in a
great hurry to visit his family.
"Captain von Wehlen," said Captain von Zaklika, "it is not very
cheerful staying here among ruins. Had I known it was such a horrid
place--"
"It is a bad place," answered Henry von Wehlen, "for those who want
merry-making; but those who are fond of beautiful nature can live here
very happily."
Cosel listened, but she turned away in order not to betray the interest
she was taking in the conversation.
"Captain von Wehlen," said Zaklika, "if it could be done, you should
introduce me to the Countess."
"With great pleasure," said Wehlen, who was glad to have a pretext for
approaching the Countess.
They both went towards the wall of the garden. Captain von Wehlen
saluted the Countess.
"Permit me to introduce to you Captain von Zaklika, newly arrived."
Cosel turned, apparently with indifference, and bowed slightly to the
new-comer, who stood pale, full of emotion, looking at that beautiful
face, still alight with the same charm which first shone for him under
the linden trees in Laubegast.
After a moment of silence the Countess said,--
"Are you here on a visit?"
"No, madam, I am on service, which I daresay will last quite a long
time, for I doubt whether anybody would care to exchange with me."
"It is surely the worst prison any one could find," exclaimed the
Countess. "In a dark room the world is unseen, and so forgotten; but
here the whole vast horizon lies before one's eyes, separated only by a
big wall."
The officers stood speechless.
"What have you done that they send you here?" added the Countess.
"It is the caprice of destiny."
Then they saluted and went off.
Wehlen took Zaklika's arm, and conducted him into the third courtyard
of the castle, where he occupied a couple of rooms, and where he also
wanted to lodge his new comrade.
"Captain von Zaklika," said he, "I am sure this is the first time you
have seen the Countess Cosel. What do you say about her beauty? Is she
not worthy of the throne?"
He said this with such enthusiasm that he betrayed his secret, which he
did not perhaps intend to hide before Zaklika.
"I do not wonder at your enthusiasm," said the latter; "but from your
enthusiasm one would imagine you were in love."
"We are both soldiers," answered Wehlen, "and honest folks; why should
I deny it? I have lost my head looking at her. I am not ashamed either.
There is not another woman like her in the world."
"But," said Zaklika, "you should remember that a woman who was the
King's wife would not look upon another man. Then so many misfortunes
have withered her heart; finally, she is a prisoner for ever!"
"For ever!" interrupted Wehlen. "What lasts for ever? She is so
beautiful!"
Zaklika smiled.
"You are so young," he said.
"You are right; I am young; but who could resist the charm of her
looks? You have seen my uncle, his grey hair, wrinkled face, quenched
eyes. Well, he looks at her from afar and sighs, till a game of
draughts makes him forget her. The soldiers look at her as at a
picture; then how can a youth of twenty resist her beauty?"
The same day they went to look over the castle, and already Zaklika
tried to form some plans of escape. He found there was only one way to
get out of the castle, and this was a subterranean corridor from the
tower to the chapel, from which there was a narrow passage to the
outside. Seeing this, he already had a plan. The Countess, dressed in
man's clothing, would go down and slip into the exterior courtyard,
where no sentries were posted. From there one could reach the door in
the passage during the night. It would not be a difficult matter to get
a couple of horses in the town, and the frontier was not far away.
A few days later he found an opportunity of entering Cosel's room
without arousing any suspicion. The Countess extended her hand to him.
"You have made me wait too long," said she.
"I could not do otherwise," answered Zaklika. "The one who uses the
last means must be careful. The question was not one of my life, but of
not failing to deliver you."
"Yes, you are right," said Cosel. "I must preserve you for a last
resource, for you are most faithful. Young Wehlen may be used first."
"What for?" asked Zaklika.
"To deliver me from here. He is madly in love with me. He knows the
castle well. Do not mix in anything; let him do it. Help him as you can
without taking part openly; prefer not to see anything. I will try to
escape with him."
"But he is a crazy boy," said Zaklika. "Only crazy people succeed in
accomplishing crazy enterprises," said Cosel.
"But suppose he does not succeed?" asked Zaklika gloomily.
"No matter; they cannot do anything worse to me. I should only regret
having exposed the young man. You will remain in reserve."
"But I don't think he will have courage to do it," said Zaklika.
"Leave that to me. I will manage the whole thing."
A noise on the stairs stopped further conversation. Zaklika changed the
subject and then went out.
He was hurt at Cosel's rejection of his help, but always submitted to
her, determined to obey her will.
Wehlen took him into his confidence and told him he was ready to give
up his own life for the Countess.
"I am sure you would not betray me," said he.
"No," answered Zaklika; "you may be assured on that point; but do not
betray yourself."
Soon Zaklika noticed that Wehlen began to visit the Countess quite
often, to talk with her while she was in the garden. Zaklika was
obliged to play draughts with the uncle and to chat with him. Henry was
constantly rushing about, and by his redoubled energy and some
preparations that he easily noticed, Zaklika guessed that the flight
was soon to be attempted. Not being in the secret, he did not want to
interfere, but once he whispered to the youth,--
"For Heaven's sake, have a care, captain. I do not know your thoughts
and plans, but I am afraid that the others may notice, as I have, some
unusual preparations."
Wehlen was a little bit frightened; he took hold of Zaklika's arm, led
him to a remote corner, and asked,--
"What have you noticed, then?"
"Well, I have noticed that you are preparing some _salto mortale_."
"I do not understand what you mean," said Wehlen. "The whole thing is
that I am madly in love."
"You must try not to show that love to others, and not let them see
what I see."
The same day Zaklika went to the tower and found Cosel walking about
feverishly, wearing a different dress than usual.
"Zaklika," she said, "do not interfere with anything--be blind. Play
with the old commandant. In case of alarm, keep him as long as
possible."
"If you succeed in escaping, what shall I do then?" asked Zaklika.
"Then come where I will tell you."
She did not wish to say a word more.
Zaklika left the room with a sad presentiment. Wehlen, whom he met in
the courtyard, was feverish, looking every moment at the setting sun.
The old commandant called Zaklika to have a glass of beer and play the
usual game of draughts. The sergeant who locked the doors and brought
the key usually found them absorbed in the game, which lasted late into
the night.
The evening was beautiful. Zaklika played absentmindedly, listening to
the smallest noise in the castle, and the commandant, winning each
time, laughed at him.
"What is the matter with you to-day?" he asked.
"I have a headache."
Having played a few games, they began to chat. Wehlen filled his pipe.
The night was growing dark; they lighted candles. Henry was absent, and
this was unusual.
"I am sure he went to town," said the commandant. "He is weary here,
and I prefer him to go out rather than sigh at that proud lady, who
imagines she is a queen and does not deign to look at anybody."
Zaklika did not answer.
Everything was quiet in the castle, and the time at which the old
corporal used to bring the keys was near; there was a knock at the
door.
The old soldier, looking like a highway robber--a mercenary who had
seen military service in every country, entered. He was pale, and his
face was strangely twisted. The expression of it struck Zaklika; he was
horrified.
The commandant did not like him. His name was Wurm.
"I have to make a serious report," said Wurm.
"What is going on?" cried the commandant, rushing from his chair.
"At this moment your nephew is running away with the Countess Cosel!"
The commandant rushed to the door like a madman.
"It is no use to hasten," laughed Wurm savagely. "I knew it would come
to that, and I watched them; I am sure of a good reward."
"It is an impudent lie!" cried the commandant.
"I have done my duty," said Wurm coolly. "At this moment the soldiers
are keeping them in the passage behind the chapel, and Captain Henry,
who is so fond of giving me slaps on the face, will be shot."
The corporal smiled with hellish delight. The commandant trembled, and
knew not what to do. The fear of his beloved nephew made him almost
crazy.
"Captain von Zaklika," cried he, "help me! save him!"
"It cannot be done," said the corporal. "Tomorrow the King and the
whole Court will know about it. Too many people have seen it. I have
fixed everything right. I have avenged myself, and if you like to be
avenged on me, I am ready for anything."
At that moment there was a noise in the direction of the tower. The
soldiers were conducting the prisoners. The Countess was pale, and
Henry was staggering, for he had wounded himself with a pistol, and he
would surely have killed himself had they not bound his hands.
Cosel was behaving like a mad woman; Henry stood quietly. The old
commandant came to him wringing his hands. Zaklika was behind them; he
pitied the poor boy who had fallen into the snare. Nobody looked at
Wurm, who smiled triumphantly and cynically.
The uncle was obliged to put his nephew into prison and send a report
to Dresden. He was unable to write it himself; the old soldier cried
like a child. He called the secretary, and, sobbing and cursing, he
accused his nephew, begging for mercy and giving as a reason his youth,
and putting his own services in the balance. He did not spare his own
blindness; but finally he accused the corporal, who, instead of
preventing the misfortune, dishonestly waited for it in order to profit
by it.
The sentries were doubled, and they passed the night in uneasiness.
The commandant put the corporal under arrest also. The report was sent
by courier to Dresden. The rising sun shone on Stolpen Castle, which
seemed gloomier than ever. Cosel was in convulsions. About noon General
von Bodt and several officials came from Dresden. At first old Wehlen
handed his sword without a word, but the General returned it to him; by
the King's order only Captain Henry Wehlen and Corporal Wurm were to be
court-martialled.
Before the sun set the sentence of death had been carried out. The old
commandant's tears and prayers were in vain. Cosel heard the firing,
and she shivered; she guessed that the man who loved her was at that
moment paying for his love. Zaklika stood pale, like a corpse.
The same day Commandant von Wehlen left the service, after having
written a bitter letter to the King. Corporal Wurm had been put in
chains and sent to the Koenigstein fortress.