The queen looked sadly after the chamberlain; when he had disappeared,
she turned to the general.
“I now hope,” said she, “that you have fulfilled your orders, and that I
will be permitted to have my apartments to myself.”
“I beg your majesty’s pardon,” said the general, bowing respectfully,
“but as yet I have fulfilled but the smallest portion of my master’s
commands.”
“How? is there still some one here whom you wish to arrest?” said the
queen.
“No, noble lady, but some one I wish to warn!”
“You are, without doubt, speaking of me, general?” said the priest,
quietly.
“Yes, sir, of you. I wish to warn you not to occupy your pious thoughts
with that very worldly thing called politics, and to request you to
instruct the members of your Church in religion, in Christian love and
kindness, and not to lure them to murder and treachery.”
The priest shrugged his shoulders; a contemptuous smile played about his
small, thin lips.
“The words ‘religion and Christian love’ sound strangely in the mouth of
a Prussian warrior. I decline receiving any advice from you. I have
no fear of you or of your superiors! I am subject only to God and the
Pope!”
“That may be in your own country, but not in the King of Prussia’s,”
answered General Fink, quietly. “There every one is subject to the law;
no title, no clerical gown protects the criminal. Two days ago, a spy
was discovered in the Prussian camp, who was a priest; he was hung like
any other spy, although at the last moment, hoping to save his life, he
exclaimed that he was a friend of Father Guarini, the court confessor.
His majesty the King of Prussia commissioned me to impart to you the
death of your friend.”
“From my heart I thank you for so doing,” said the priest. “I shall have
masses read for my friend, of whom you have made a martyr.”
The queen gazed at him with sparkling eyes. “Oh, my father,” said she,
“I thank you for your noble example; it shall enable me, in spite of
threats and insults, not to deny the holy cause and the friends who
have suffered for it. And now, general, I hope your commissions are
fulfilled, and that you will take your leave.”
“I hope your majesty will believe that I would not venture to remain,
were I not compelled by the commands of my king. I have to request
your majesty to listen while I read aloud some letters, some historical
documents, which may possibly interest your highness.”
“You can read,” said the queen. “As my ears do not belong to the King of
Prussia, it lies with me to listen or not, as I please.” She sank gently
upon the divan, signing to the priest to remain beside her.
“I flatter myself that I will have your majesty’s attention,” said the
general, withdrawing to the nearest window and opening a package of
letters. “The first relates to an extremely amusing occurrence, which my
master, knowing that France was your ally, imagined would interest you.
Your highness is aware that Prince Soubise is a brave soldier. This is
Madame Pompadour’s opinion; it must, therefore, be true. About a week
ago this brave prince determined to rest for a while from his heroic
deeds, and gave the same privilege to a large portion of his army. The
general, accompanied by his staff and eight thousand soldiers, then
entered that lovely little spot, called Gotha, to visit the talented and
princely duke and duchess. He and his staff were received by them with
great honor; magnificent preparations were forthwith made for a splendid
dinner to welcome the prince who, happily, was not only fond of laurels,
but also of good eating. Dinner was served, the French generals had
finished their toilets, Prince Soubise had given the duchess his arm to
lead her to her seat, when a loud cry of terror was heard from without,
‘The Prussians are at the gates!’ Prince Soubise dropped the arm of the
duchess; through the Paris rouge, so artistically put on, the paleness,
which now covered his face, could rot be seen. The doors leading to the
dining-saloon were thrown open, making visible the sparkling glass, the
smoking dishes, the rare service of gold and silver--, the generals of
the prince now hastened forward and confirmed the wild rumor. Yes;
and rumor, for once, was true. General Seidlitz was there with fifteen
hundred brave cavalrymen. The French are noted for their politeness, and
it did not fail them upon this occasion. Without a word, Prince Soubise
and his eight thousand men made room for General Seidlitz and his
fifteen hundred, and hastened from the ducal palace. Before the rich
dishes had time to cool, General Seidlitz and his staff were seated
at the table, enjoying the magnificent dinner prepared for the French
generals. Many prisoners, many spoils were taken afterward. Not that
Prince Soubise had not taken all his soldiers with him, but there was
another small army by which the French troops are always accompanied.
These, the lackeys, valets, cooks, hair-dressers, ballet-dancers,
actresses, priests, etc., etc., were not able to run as fast as the
French soldiers. The spoils consisted in the equipages of the prince and
his staff, in which were boxes and chests containing precious things,
their large chests full of delightful perfumes and hair-oils, trunks
full of wigs, dressing-gowns, and parasols. There were several learned
parrots who had a leaning to politics, and who exclaimed continually:
‘Vive les Franqais! A bas les Prussiens!’ But the kind-hearted General
Seidlitz did not wish to deprive the French army of the necessities
of life; he therefore sent them their valets, cooks, hair-dressers,
actresses, priests, etc. The perfumes and hair-oils he gave to his own
soldiers.”
“I trust you have finished,” said the queen, playing listlessly with her
fan.
“Ah, your majesty has then honored me by listening?” said General Fink,
smiling.
The queen preserved a dignified silence.
The general continued reading: “After long deliberation, Prince Soubise
concluded he had carried his politeness too far in vacating the ducal
palace to the Prussians; he determined, therefore, to go after his
perfumes, hair-oils, dressing-gowns, wigs, etc., etc., and drive the
Prussians from Gotha. Prince von Hildburghausen joined him with his
troops. Thus the French advanced to Gotha, secure and confident of
success. But to their terror they found before the city not two Prussian
regiments, as they had expected, but what seemed to them the entire
Prussian army arranged in line of battle, and in such large numbers
that for miles around the bills were covered, with them. This was so
unexpected to the French generals that they determined to retreat for
a while, until they had recovered from their surprise. They withdrew,
leaving the field to the Prussians. Had they not withdrawn so hastily,
they would soon have seen that the Prussian army consisted only of
fifteen hundred, which, thanks to General Seidlitz’s strategy, presented
a very imposing view. Thus Seidlitz gained the day without firing a
shot--not by the troops who were present, but by those who were supposed
to be present.”
“I have had enough of this,” said the queen, rising. “I am weary of
listening to your witty stories. The King of Prussia may triumph for a
while--he may jest over his lost battles--but the hour of his misfortune
is at hand. God, who is just--who thrusts the arrogant and haughty to
the ground--will also punish him, and give victory to the just cause.
The battle of Collin was for Frederick the Second the first proof of
God’s anger, and now with increasing strength His mighty arm will be
raised against him.”
“I am aware that these are your majesty’s sentiments,” said the general,
smiling; “and my master is as well informed. I think they were stated
in almost the same words in letters which your majesty wrote to the
Austrian general, Nadasky.”
The queen fell back upon her seat trembling, and a deep red suffused her
countenance. Even Father Guarini showed by the quivering of his lip and
his sudden paleness, that the conversation was now taking an agitating
turn.
“What do you know of my letters to Nadasky?” said the queen,
breathlessly. “Who says I have written to him?”
“Your own hand, gracious queen,” answered the general. “While the king,
my noble sovereign, was in Bernstadt, he was told that General Nadasky
was at Ostriz, and sent General von Werner after him. Nadasky fled, but
his baggage was captured, and amongst his letters this one from your
majesty was discovered.”
And he held up the letter in question before the queen, to convince her
of its authenticity.
Maria Josephine endeavored to tear it from him, but the general was too
quick for her.
“By command of my master, this letter is to be returned to you, but upon
one condition.”
“Well, what is it?” said the queen, faintly.
“I am to read to your majesty a few sentences from it, selected by the
King of Prussia himself.”
“And all my letters shall then be returned to me?”
“All, your majesty.”
“You can read,” said the queen, seating herself.
General Fink approached the window by which he had been standing before,
and looked out for a few moments. Some one, perhaps, had passed with
whom he was acquainted, for he bowed several times and raised his hand
as if he were beckoning. After this intermission, at which the queen
and her confessor had looked in amazement, he opened the letter and
commenced to read.
It was a demand from Queen Maria Josephine to the Austrian general to
do all in his power to ruin their common enemy. “If we are energetic,”
continued the general, reading in a loud voice, “it will soon be done.
At the battle of Collin, God laid his mark upon Frederick; Prussia will
have no more victories; her arrogant ruler has sung his last Te Deum.”
At this moment the bells of the nearest church commenced their solemn
chimes, and from the fort behind the castle the thunder of cannon was
heard. The queen rose from her seat and rushed to the window.
“What is the meaning of this?” said she, breathlessly. “Why these bells?
Why this cannon? What--”
The renewed thunder of cannon drowned her words. She threw open the
window, and now all the church bells were joined in one harmonious
chant. From beneath the queen’s windows there arose a slow, solemn hymn,
and as if borne aloft by invisible spirits, the words “Te Deum laudamus”
were heard by the queen. Her eyes sparkled. “For whom is this Te Deum?”
said she, breathlessly.
“It is for my master,” said General Fink, solemnly--“for the King of
Prussia, who at Rossbach, with twenty thousand men, has gained a victory
over sixty thousand French soldiers.”
A cry of rage, and Maria Josephine fell fainting to the floor.