BEHIND THE CURTAIN.
The crowd and heat of the dancing-saloon were intolerable. All
wished to see the quadrille in which the two princesses, the
loveliest women of the court, and the most gallant cavaliers were to
appear. The music also was a special object of interest, as it was
composed by the king. The first quadrille closed in the midst of
tumultuous applause, restrained by no courtly etiquette. The
partners for the second quadrille advanced to the gay and inspiring
sound of pipes and drums.
The Princess Amelia had withdrawn from the crowd into a window
recess. She was breathless and exhausted from the dance and the
excitement of the last few days. She required a few moments of rest,
of refreshment, and meditation. She drew the heavy silk curtains
carefully together, and seated herself upon the little tabouret
which stood in the recess. This quiet retreat, this isolation from
the thoughtless crowd, brought peace to her soul. It was happiness
to close her weary eyes, and indulge in sweet dreams to the sound of
this glorious music; to feel herself shut off from the laughing,
heartless crowd.
She leaned her lovely head upon the cushion, not to sleep but to
dream. She thought of her sister, who would soon place a crown upon
her head; who had sold herself for this crown to a man whom she had
never seen, and of whom she knew nothing, but that he was heir to a
throne. Amelia shuddered at the thought that Ulrica had sacrificed
her religion to this man, whom she knew not, and had promised at
God's altar to love and be faithful to him. In the purity and
innocence of her girlish heart she considered this a crime, a
sacrilege against love, truth, and faith. "I will never follow
Ulrica's example," she whispered to herself. "I will never sell
myself. I will obey the dictates of my heart and give myself to the
man I love." As she said this, a crimson glow overspread her cheeks,
and she opened her eyes wide, as if she hoped to see the man she
loved before her, and wished him to read in her steady glance the
sweet confirmation of the words she had so lightly whispered.
"No, no! I will never marry without love. I love, and as there can
be but one true love in a true life, I shall never marry--then--"
She ceased and bowed her head upon her bosom, her trembling lips
refused to speak the hope and dream of her heart, to give words to
the wild, passionate thoughts which burned like lava in her breast,
and, like the wild rush of many waters, drowned her reason. She
thought that in the eloquence of her great love she might touch the
heart of the king, and in the magnanimity of his soul he might allow
her to be happy, to place a simple myrtle-wreath upon her brow. She
repeated the friendly and admiring words which the king had spoken
to her lover. She saw again those wondrous eyes resting with
interest and admiration upon the splendid form of the young baron. A
happy, playful smile was on her lip. "The king himself finds him
handsome and attractive; he cannot then wonder that his sister
shares his opinion. He will think it natural that I love him--that--
"
A wild storm of applause in the saloon interrupted the current of
her thoughts. She drew the curtains slightly apart, and gazed into
the room. The second quadrille was ended, and the dancers were now
sinking upon the tabourets, almost breathless from fatigue.
The princess could not only see, but she could hear. Two ladies
stood just in front of the curtains behind which she was concealed,
engaged in earnest conversation; they spoke of Frederick von Trenck;
they were enraptured with his athletic form and glowing eyes.
"He has the face of a Ganymede and the figure of a Hercules," said
one. "I think him as beautiful as the Apollo Belvedere," said the
other; "and then his expression is so pure and innocent. I envy the
woman who will be his first love."
"You think, then, that he has never loved?"
"I am sure of it. The passion and fire of his heart are yet
concealed under the veil of youth. He is unmoved by a woman's tender
smiles and her speaking and promising glances. He does not
understand their meaning."
"Have you tried these powerful weapons?"
"I have, and I confess wholly in vain; but I have not given up the
contest, and I shall renew the attack until--"
The ladies now moved slowly away, and the princess heard no more,
but she knew their voices; they were Madame von Brandt and Louise
von Kleist, whom the king often called the "loveliest of the
lovely." Louise von Kleist, the irresistible coquette, who was
always surrounded by worshippers and adorers, confessed to her
friend that all her tender glances had been unavailing; that she had
in vain attempted to melt the ice-rind of his heart.
"But she will renew her efforts," cried Amelia, and her heart
trembled with its first throb of jealousy. "Oh, I know Louise von
Kleist! She will pursue him with her tenderness, her glances of
love, and bold encouragement, until he admires, falls at her feet a
willing victim. But no, no, I cannot suffer that. She shall not rob
me of my only happiness--the golden dream of my young life. He
belongs to me, he is mine by the mighty power of passion, he is
bound to me by a thousand holy oaths. I am his first love. I am that
happy woman whom he adores, and who is envied by the beauteous
Louise von Schwerin. He is mine and he shall be mine, in spite of
the whole world. I love him, and I give myself to him."
And now she once more looked through the curtains and shrank back in
sweet surprise. Right before her stood Trenck--the Apollo of Louise
von Kleist, the Hercules and the Ganymede of Madame von Brandt, the
beloved of the Princess Amelia--Trenck stood with folded arms
immovable, and gazed piercingly in the crowd of maskers. Perhaps he
sought for Amelia; perhaps he was sorrowful because she had
withdrawn herself.
Suddenly he heard a soft, low voice whispering: "Do not move, do not
turn--remain standing as you are; but if you hear and understand me,
bow your head."
Frederick von Trenck bowed his head. But the princess could not see
the rapturous expression which illuminated his face; she could not
know that his breath almost failed him; she could not hear the
stormy, tumultuous beating of his heart.
"Do you know who speaks? if you recognize me, incline your head."
The music sounded loud and clear, and the dancing feet, the gay
jest, and merry laughter of five hundred persona gave confidence and
security to the lovers, Frederick was not content with this silent
sign. He turned toward the recess and said in low tones: "I know the
voice of my angel, and I would fall upon my knees and worship her,
but it would bring danger and separation."
"Still! say no more," whispered the voice; and Trenck knew by its
trembling tones, that the maiden was inspired by the same ardent
passion which glowed in every fibre of his being. That still small
voice sounded in his ears like the notes of an organ: "Say no more,
but listen. To-morrow the Princess Ulrica departs for Sweden, and
the king goes to Potsdam; you will accompany him. Have you a swift
horse that knows the way from Potsdam to Berlin, and can find it by
night?"
"I have a swift horse, and for me and my horse there is no night."
"Four nights from this you will find the window which you know open,
and the door which leads to the small stair, only closed. Come at
the hour of eleven, and you will receive a compensation for the
scarf you have lost this evening. Hush--no word; look not around,
move onward indifferently; turn not your head. Farewell! in four
days--at eleven--go!"
"I had to prepare a coat of mail for him, in order that he might be
invulnerable," whispered Amelia tremblingly; exhausted and
remorseful, she sank back upon the tabouret. "The beautiful Kleist
shall not ravish my beloved from me. He loves me--me alone; and he
shall no longer complain of my cruelty. I dare not be cruel! I dare
not make him unhappy, for she might comfort him. He shall love
nothing but me, only me! If Louise von Kleist pursues him with her
arts, I will murder her--that is all!"