When Zaklika, alarmed by the pistol shot, entered Cosel's room, he
found her lying on the floor senseless. Beside her was a pistol, still
smoking. He guessed everything. The servants rushed to help the lady,
who seemed to be dead.
Many people heard the shot, but Augustus never said a word about it to
any one. Hence they came to the conclusion that they must not speak
about it.
It took the Countess quite a long time before she assumed her former
order of living. Now she was persuaded that she could not expect
anything.
They did not, however, forbid visitors to see her, and later on she was
allowed to go into the garden.
Zaklika remained in town, but did not arouse any suspicion as he kept
quiet. Cosel used to ask him to do different errands for her, but she
never spoke about flight.
Only the next year she was irritated by the news of the gorgeous
festivities given in Dresden in honour of Frederick William of Prussia,
who visited Augustus with his son Frederick, since called the Great.
Cosel listened to the description of the festivities, and was irritated
at the thought that formerly such splendour was displayed for her. It
again aroused in her the desire of escape, and of revenge upon the
tyrant for her suffering and humiliation.
Several times she was ready to say to Zaklika, "Now is your turn." He
expected it, and waited. He was ready to die for her sake, but did not
wish to awaken the danger himself.
One day when the Jewish pedlar brought to Cosel, together with some
goods, a newspaper describing the last entertainments given for the
King of Prussia, and among the others the same carousal that was for
the first time organized for her, she became indignant.
Zaklika came in at that moment. She was walking to and fro
thoughtfully.
"Are you still ready to risk your life for me?" she asked.
"Yes!" answered Zaklika simply.
"Have you any means of freeing me?"
"I will find some."
"I pity you; you were the most faithful to me," said she; "but I must
escape from here, I must."
Zaklika stood thoughtful.
"Do you need much time?"
"I cannot calculate," answered Zaklika. "I must act so as to be sure of
success."
Cosel nodded, and Zaklika went out into the park, he needed solitude to
think over the matter. For a long time he had several plans, but every
one of them had some drawback.
All the former attempts were unsuccessful because the flights were
discovered too soon; therefore it was necessary to make a plan which
would not be discovered before Cosel should be beyond the Saxon
boundaries.
Unhappily Zaklika had nobody who could help him. He could count on the
faithfulness of his Slav brothers, Wends and Servs, but they were timid
and not artful at all. He came to the conclusion that it would be best
to fly during day-time.
At the gate there was no strict control over who came in and who went
out; they let in pedlars to the Countess and to the commandant; the men
did not attract special attention. Therefore he came to the conclusion
that during some rainy day Cosel could pass the gates covered with his
mantle. He would follow her, and conduct her beyond the park, where he
would have saddled horses, on which they could cross the plains towards
the woods and mountains.
Zaklika was thinking for several days, but was unable to find anything
better, and he at last decided to tell her about the plan.
She thought it very good.
"The first rainy day," said she. "It is no use to wait; we must try our
luck. I have decided to defend myself. I hope you will do the same."
"I hope it will not be necessary," said Zaklika.
For several days there was fine weather. Zaklika was coming in and
going out continually. Thinking that he should not return again to
Stolpen, he sold his house, and converted everything he could into
ready money.
At last the sky was covered with clouds, and it seemed to promise rain
for several days. Zaklika, covered with his long mantle, was
continually coming in and going out of the castle, not answering the
questions made to him by the sentries, as if telling them that he did
not like to talk much. The trials were very successful. One Friday it
rained hard from the early morning. When dusk began to fall everything
was ready. Cosel gave the servant leave to go to the town.
Covered with a long, military mantle, with a cap pushed over her eyes,
Cosel went first to the St. Donat's gate, and no one paid any attention
to her; at the second gate the soldiers looked at her, but let her
pass.
A few minutes later Zaklika, dressed in the same manner, passed the
first gate quickly, in which he did not meet anybody. At the second
gate the soldier muttered,--
"How many of you are there?"
Zaklika uncovered his face.
"Devil knows you," said the soldier. "I know only that there came in
one, and two go out."
"What are you talking about?"
"I am not blind."
Zaklika paid no attention and moved on. The soldier stopped him.
"But they all know me here," said Zaklika.
"Go to the commandant and explain to him, otherwise I shall not let you
out."
They began to quarrel. The corporal came. Zaklika complained to him,
and they let him out, and he disappeared in the bushes beyond the park;
but the soldier grumbled.
"Why are you angry with him?" asked the corporal.
"When I am at the gate, I must count how many people I let in, and how
many out. There entered one clad in a long mantle, and two of them went
out. The first looked as if he never was a soldier. Suppose it was the
Countess?" added he, laughing.
"You talk nonsense!" said the corporal, with uneasiness. He stopped,
thought for a while, and went to the St. John's tower. Here he learned
that all the servants had been permitted to go to town.
He rushed up the first flight--the room was dark and empty; on the
floor above--nobody either. The corporal hastened to the commandant,
who rushed out and began to search with the soldiers in the castle.
Time was passing by; dusk was already quite thick. There was no doubt
that Cosel had escaped! They struck the alarm, and the commandant,
dividing his soldiers into several groups, rushed out to chase the
fugitive lady.
In the meantime Cosel ran to the horses, which were ready at a certain
spot; in her great haste she lost her way. Zaklika reached them, and,
not finding the Countess, rushed to seek her, but not daring to call,
for the alarm was already given.
He lost much time, but he found her standing under a tree. He seized
her by the hand, and conducted her to the horses. Cosel jumped on her
horse, and Zaklika was ready too, when the soldiers arrived and
surrounded them. Zaklika cried to Cosel to run, he barring the road to
the soldiers.
A few shots sounded, and the faithful man, struck by a bullet in the
forehead, fell to the ground moaning. At that moment a soldier seized
the reins of the Countess's horse. She killed the aggressor on the
spot; but there rushed forward another and a third, and she was obliged
to surrender.
The commandant arrived when the two cold corpses were already on the
bloody ground--the third was dying.
"Countess," said he, "look how many lives your fancies of escape cost!"
She answered nothing, but, jumping from her horse, came to the dead
Zaklika. She put her pale lips on his forehead, covered with blood. The
dead man's hand was lying on his breast, as though it would defend the
King's promise of marriage to Cosel that had been entrusted to him. She
took it with her.
She was led back to the castle, where she spent long days sitting and
reading the Bible. Zaklika was buried at her expense.
"Nobody would care about my funeral," she said to herself. "Now I am
alone in the world. My children do not know me."
* * * * *
In 1733 Augustus died, and the commandant of Stolpen came personally to
announce to her the news.
For a long time she stood speechless; then she wrung her hands, and,
throwing herself on the floor, began to cry.
Imprisonment, cruelty, wrongs, oblivion, could not take from her
womanly heart the love which she had for him. From that moment he was
again for her the dear Augustus.
Five days later there came an official from Dresden, sent by the
Kurfuerst, who was then Augustus III., King of Poland. He asked to be
announced to the Countess.
"I am sent to your Excellency," said he, "by our most gracious lord, to
announce to you that you are free, and that you may live where you
please."
Cosel rubbed her forehead.
"I? Free?" said she. "What do I need freedom for now? The people have
become strangers to me, and I am a stranger to them. Where can I go? I
have nothing; they have robbed me of everything. You want to make me
ridiculous; you wish that those who bowed down to me should now point
the finger of scorn at me?"
The official was silent.
"No!" she added. "I do not want freedom; leave me here. I am accustomed
to these walls, where I have shed all my tears; I could not live in
another place."
So they let her stay in Stolpen, where she outlived Augustus III., and
the Seven Years' War.
She died in 1765, being eighty-five years of age. To the end of her
life she preserved traces of her great beauty, by which she became so
famous.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: Maurice Saxe, the famous French general.]
[Footnote 2: This was the name familiarly given to the King, and the
popular song, "_Mein Lieber Augustin_," referred to him.]
THE END.
GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, LTD., ST. JOHN'S HOUSE, CLERKENWELL, E.C.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Countess Cosel, by Joseph J. Kraszewski