THE DOUBLE RENDEZVOUS.
The little maid of honor, Louise von Schwerin, was walking with quick
steps up and down her room; she had locked her door to secure herself
from interruption. She wished to read once more the mysterious note
found yesterday in the bunch of flowers, and once more to meditate
undisturbed upon its contents. Louise knew the note was from the
handsome gardener Fritz Wendel; from him came the beautiful flowers she
found daily upon the sill of her window, and he only could have
concealed the note amongst them. There were but a few lines, entreating
her to meet him that night at eight o'clock, in the grotto of the
conservatory, where she should learn an important and dangerous secret.
"What can the secret be?" asked Louise of herself, after reading the
note again and again. "Perhaps," she said, with a roguish smile,
"perhaps he thinks that his love for me is a secret. Dangerous it
certainly is for him and for me, but a secret it is not. I am certain
that he loves me, but it must be very sweet to be told so; to hear his
lips confess at last what until now I have only read in those eloquent
eyes. Alas! is it not fearful, intolerable, to wait so long for a
declaration of love? Two months so near each other, but not one moment
of sweet, unrestrained intercourse; always hemmed in by this cold,
ceremonious, stupid court life; surrounded by spies and eavesdroppers;
never alone, never free. Is it not terrible to have a sweetheart, and
never to have refused him a kiss, because he has never had the
opportunity to demand one? They say there is rapture in the first kiss
of your lover--in his first embrace. I must know this for myself, that
they may no longer laugh and say I am a silly child without experience.
I will have my experience! I will have my love affairs as well as the
other ladies of the court, only mine shall be more extraordinary, more
romantic. To be loved by a baron or a count is indeed commonplace; but
to be adored by a gardener, who is beautiful as the god Apollo, and
whose obscure birth is his only fault--this is original, this is
piquant. Ah, Madame von Brandt laughed at me yesterday, at my stupidity
and innocence; she was merry at my expense, because I had never been
kissed, never received a stolen embrace, which she declared to be the
most charming event in a woman's life. All the ladies laughed at me as
she said this, and called me an unbaked roll left out in the
cold--which never felt the fire. They shall laugh at me no longer,"
cried Louise, with spiteful tears in her eyes and stamping her little
foot. "No one shall mock at me again; and if they do, I will tell them
I too have a lover; that I have had a declaration of love, and have
received my lover's first kiss. I must be able to say this, and
therefore I will meet Fritz this evening in the grotto of the
conservatory." Even while saying this she was seized with a cold
trembling; one moment her heart stood still, and then almost suffocated
her with its rapid beating. A soft voice seemed to warn her against
this imprudence; she seemed to see the pale face of her mother, and to
hear her living counsels: "Do not go, Louise, Frit Wendel is no lover
for Louise von Schwerin." Her guardian angel spread once more his white
wings around her, longing to protect and save. But, alas! she heard
another voice, breathing flattering words and sweet promises. She saw a
beautiful youth with his soft, large, hazel eyes fixed imploringly upon
her. Louise felt the irresistible charm of the forbidden, the
disallowed, the dangerous. Louise closed her ear to the warning voice;
her good genius had no power over her. "I will go," she said, and a
rosy blush suffused her childish cheeks; "nothing shall prevent me!"
Louise was now quite resolved; but she was not at peace with herself,
and from time to time she hoped some unexpected occurrence, some
unconquerable obstacle, would prevent her from taking this imprudent
step. No difficulty arose; chance seemed to favor her meeting with her
obscure lover.
Sophia Dorothea was to visit her daughter-in-law at Schonhausen, not as
a queen, but without pomp and splendor. The two eldest maids of honor
only would accompany her. Neither Louise von Schwerin nor Laura von
Pannewitz were to be of the party. Sophia was glad that at least for a
few hours she would not see the lovely, sad face, and soft, melancholy
eyes of Laura, nor hear the low and plaintive tones of her accusing
voice. The king had gone to Potsdam, it was therefore unnecessary to
watch Laura. Indeed, of late the queen scarcely believed in this love,
of which she had been so confident; she had tried in vain to discover
any trace of an understanding between Laura and the king. Frederick
scarcely noticed Laura, and had spoken to her but once since that
stormy day; then he had laughingly asked her why she was so pale and
languishing, and if it was an unhappy love which made her look so
mournful. Since that day the queen no longer believed in the passion of
the king for Laura, and she reproached Madame von Brandt with having
misled her.
Madame von Brandt smiled mysteriously. "I did not say, your majesty,
that the king loved Laura; your suspicions fell upon him, and I did not
undeceive you."
"And why not?" said the queen angrily; "why did you not make known to
me the name of Laura's lover?"
"Because I had solemnly sworn not to disclose it," said Madame von
Brandt.
"Is it not the king? then all the better for my poor Laura."
"Still, I venture to implore your majesty to induce my dear young
friend to accept the hand of Count Voss; she will thus perhaps be cured
of her unhappy and hopeless passion."
Sophia was resolved to follow this advice; she therefore drove to
Schonhausen to see the young queen, and consult with her as to the most
efficacious means of accomplishing this result. Louise von Schwerin
thought the queen might still change her mind and command her to
accompany her; she hoped and feared this at the same time. She would
have wept bitterly at this result, but she knew it would be best for
her. Between anxiety and hope, doubts and fears, the time passed slowly.
"There rolls a carriage from the court," said Louise; she heard the
loud cries of the guard and the beating of the drums.
It was the queen leaving for Schonhausen. Louise was now free, now
unobserved; nothing could prevent her from going to the grotto. With
trembling steps and a quickly beating heart she slipped through the
dark alleys of the garden and entered the conservatory. All was still
and wrapped in a sweet twilight. The delightful odor of orange blossoms
filled the place; which, like the subtle vapor of opium, intoxicated
her senses. Breathless with fear and expectation she entered the
grotto; her eyes were blinded by the sudden darkness, and she sank to
the ground.
"Thank God," she murmured softly, "I am alone, he is not here! I shall
have time to recover, and then I can return; I am so frightened--I
ought not to have come. Perhaps the ladies of the court have arranged
this practical joke at my expense. Yes, that is it. It was folly to
believe he would dare to ask me to meet him; he is too timid--too
humble. Yes, it is a trap laid for me, and I have fallen into it."
She rose hastily to fly back to the palace; but it was too late; a
strong arm was gently thrown around her neck, and she was drawn back to
her seat. She tried to free herself, but could not; she heard the loud
beating of his heart, which found an echo in her own; she felt his lips
pressed to hers, but her childish modesty was aroused; she found she
had the wish and courage to free herself.
"Let me go!" she cried breathlessly; "let me go! do not hold me a
moment! I will go! I will go this instant! How dare you treat me in
this manner? How and why did you come?" and Louise, who was now free,
remained standing to hear his reply.
"How did I come here?" said the handsome gardener, in a submissive but
pleading tone. "Every night for four weeks I have worked upon this
subterranean alley; this dark path, which should lead me here unseen.
While others slept and dreamed I worked; and also dreamed with working
eyes. Mine were happy dreams. My work was done, and I could reach this
consecrated spot unseen. I saw in my vision an angel, whom I adore, and
to whom I have consecrated every hour, every moment of my life. Look,
Mademoiselle, at the opening behind that large orange tree, that is the
way to my paradise; through that opening I can reach a staircase,
leading to a small cellar; another pair of steps takes me to a
trap-door leading directly to my room. You can well imagine it required
time, and strength, and courage to prepare this way."
Louise approached the opening curiously. This strange path made for her
sake affected her more than all Fritz Wendel's words. Only a mighty
love could have moved a man in the darkness and alone to such a task.
Louise wished to conquer her confusion and to hide her embarrassment
with light mockery and jesting.
"Truly," she said, laughing, "this is a dark and mysterious passage,
but any one with a light would discover it. You know her majesty has
the saloon illuminated occasionally in the evening, and takes her tea
here."
"No one will find this opening," said the gardener. He pushed the
wooden tub, in which the orange-tree grew, with his foot; it gave way
to a slight touch, and turned round over the opening. "Look,
Mademoiselle, the tree covers my secret."
"Open it! open it! I pray you, I must see it!"
"I will do so if you promise me not to leave me immediately."
"I promise! I promise!"
Fritz Wendel pushed back the orange-tree, then lifting Louise gently in
his arms, he carried her to the grassplot, and seating her, he threw
himself on his knees before her, and bowed, as if in adoration.
"You are my queen, the sovereign of my soul! I lay myself at your feet,
as your slave. You alone can decide my fate. You can raise me to the
heaven of heavens, or cast me in the dust. Say only the little words 'I
love you!' this will give me strength and power to brave the whole
world. I will acquire fame and honor, and at no distant day before God
and the whole world I will demand your hand! If you say, 'Remain where
you are, at my feet is your proper place; I despise the poor gardener,
who dares to love the high-born lady!' then I will die; if I live I
shall go mad. My brain reels at the thought of such wretchedness. I can
die now, and bless you in dying; if I live in my madness I shall curse
you for your cruelty."
He ceased, and raised his handsome face pleadingly to hers. Louise was
speechless; she was intoxicated with the music of his voice and
impassioned words.
"You do not answer me! Oh! before you cast me off consider my agony.
The heart you despise contains a treasure of love and tenderness. No
other man can love you as I do. You are my light and life. You are
beautiful and fascinating; many will love you and seek your hand. Who
but the poor gardener will die for you if you say no? To me you are
more than the most lovely of women, you are a goddess! Oh, you know not
what you have already made of me! what you will still make of me! When
I saw you for the first time I was a poor, ignorant gardener, loving
nothing but my flowers; knowing no language. The great book of nature
was my only study. Since that glorious day in which I looked upon you
as a radiant, heavenly vision, I have realized my poverty; I have
blushed at my ignorance. My life has been one great effort to make
myself worthy of you. Now, Louise, command me. What shall I do? What
shall I become? If you do not despise and laugh at my love, if you love
me a little in return, if you have hope, courage, and patience to wait,
I will be worthy of you!"
"Alas!" said Louise, "this is the dream of a madman. The king and my
noble and proud family would never consent that I should become your
wife."
"As to the king," said Fritz, carelessly, "I would find means to obtain
his consent, and honor and distinction, at his hands."
"I understand," said Louise, "the secret you intended to tell me--tell
it now," she exclaimed, with a child's eager curiosity.
"Listen," said he, rising from his knees--"listen, but do not let us
betray ourselves by loud words or exclamations."
"I hear steps," said Louise. "Oh, if we should be discovered!"
"Fear nothing; look there, Louise!" Her eye followed the direction of
his hand.
Under the laurel-tree sat Laura von Pannewitz, and before her knelt
Prince Augustus William, radiant with happiness, and covering her hands
with kisses.
"Laura, my bride, my darling, when will the day come in which I can
call you mine to all eternity?"
"That day will come when I am dead," said Laura, with a sad smile.
"Yes, my prince, only when I am dead shall I be free to love you, and
to pray for you. My freed spirit shall hover around you as your
guardian angel, and protect you from all dangers. Oh, if I could die
now, and fulfil this noble mission!" Louise was so absorbed in this
scene that she did not notice Fritz Wendel as he drew near and again
threw his arm around her.
"Look at them," he murmured; "he is a royal prince, and she only a poor
maid of honor; he loves her, and she accepts his love, and fears no
shame."
Louise laid her hand impatiently upon his lips and whispered, "Hush!"
he covered her hand with kisses; they listened with subdued breathing
to the pure and ardent vows of the two lovers.
For one moment Laura, carried away by her own feelings and the earnest
words of her lover, allowed him to press his lips to her cheek, and
returned his vows of love and constancy. But at this moment Louise
heard the soft voice of Laura entreating her lover to leave her, and
not to make her blush for herself.
"Promise me," she cried, "never again to embrace me; our love must
remain pure, and only when we fear not God's holy eye, dare we pray to
Him for assistance. Let us retain the right to shed innocent tears over
our unhappy love, and lay it as a sacrifice at the foot of God's throne
in that day when the world shall separate and despise us."
"No one shall dare to do that, Laura; you are my future wife; I shall
be ever near to defend you with my life's blood! But I promise what you
ask; I will restrain my heart; only in dreams will I embrace you; I
swear this, my beloved. But the day will come when you will cancel this
vow--the day when I will claim you before God and man as my wife!"
Laura took his hand with a sweet, confiding smile: "I thank you,
darling, I thank you, but now we must part."
"Part! alas, we shall not meet again for weeks. I am commanded to
accompany the king on a pleasure trip; for me there is but one earthly
pleasure, to see you--to be at your side."
"Go," she said, smiling; "go without fear; we can never forget each
other; however widely separated, you are always before me; I am always
with you, although you see me not."
"Yes, Laura, there is not one moment of my life in which I do not see
and hear you!"
"Well, then, go cheerfully with the king. Our hearts understand each
other; our souls are inseparable."
The prince took her hand and pressed it to his heart, then silently
they left the saloon.
Louise had long since freed herself from her lover, and she now arose,
resolved to return to the palace. Fritz Wendel tried to detain her, but
the weak and foolish child had gathered courage from the modest words
and dignified example of Laura.
"If you touch me again, you have seen me for the last time! I will
never again return to this grotto!" Fritz Wendel was encouraged by her
words; he had not asked her to return, and she had half promised to do
so.
"I will not dare to touch you again," he said, humbly; "but will you
not promise me to come again?"
"Well, I suppose I shall have to come again to hear the end of poor
Laura's romance."
"This romance can be of great use to us," he said, seizing her hand and
pressing it to his lips; "if mademoiselle accepts my love and allows me
to hope I may one day become her husband, I will sell this secret to
the king, and thus obtain his consent."
"You would not be so cruel as to betray them to the king?"
"Yes, there is nothing I would not do to obtain your hand."
BOOK III.
CHAPTER I.
THE INTRIGUING COURTIERS.
"You are right," said Baron Pollnitz, "yes, you are right, dear
Fredersdorf; this is not the way to vanquish our Hercules or to
influence him. He has no heart, and is not capable of love, and I
verily believe he despises women."
"He does not despise them," said Fredersdorf, "he is wearied with them,
which is far worse. Women are always too ready to meet him; too many
hearts have been given him unasked; no woman will ever have power over
him."
"How, what then, my dear friend?" cried Pollnitz. "There are means to
tame every living creature; the elephant and the royal lion can be
tamed, they become under skilful hands gentle, patient, and obedient:
is there no way to tame this king of beasts and hold him in bondage?
Unless we can ensnare him, we will be less than nothing, subject to his
arbitrary temper, and condemned to obey his will. Acknowledge that this
is not an enviable position; it does not correspond with the proud and
ambitious hopes we have both been for some time encouraging."
"Is it possible that when the king's chamberlain and a cunning old
courtier like myself unite our forces the royal game can escape our
artful and well-arranged nets?"
"Dear Fredersdorf, this must not, this shall not be. It would be an
everlasting shame upon us both."
"What an unheard-of enormity, a king without a powerful and influential
favorite!"
"Frederick shall have two, and as these places are vacant, it is but
natural that we should strive to occupy them."
"Yes," said Fredersdorf, "we will seize upon them and maintain our
position. You called the king a young Hercules--well, this Hercules
must be tamed."
"Through love of Omphale."
"No, not exactly, but Omphale must lead him into a life of luxury, and
put him to sleep by voluptuous feasts. Call to mind how the Roman
Emperor Heliogabalus killed the proud and ambitious senators who wished
to curtail his absolute power."
"I am not so learned as you are, my dear friend, and I confess without
blushing that I know nothing of Heliogabalus."
"Listen, then: Heliogabalus was weary of being but the obedient
functionary of the senate; he wished to rule, and to have that power
which the senate claimed as its own. He kept his ambitious desires to
himself, however, and showed the senators a contented and submissive
face. One day he invited them to a splendid feast at his villa; he
placed before them the most costly meats and the choicest wines. They
were sitting around this luxurious table, somewhat excited by drink,
when the emperor arose and said with a peculiar smile: 'I must go now
to prepare for you an agreeable surprise and practical joke, which you
will confess has the merit of originality.' He left the room, and the
tipsy senators did not observe that the doors were locked and bolted
from without. They continued to drink and sing merrily; suddenly a
glass door in the ceiling was opened, and the voice of Heliogabalus was
heard, saying: 'You were never satisfied with your power and glory, you
were always aspiring after new laurels; this noble thirst shall now be
satisfied.' A torrent of laurel wreaths and branches now fell upon the
senators. At first they laughed, and snatched jestingly at the flying
laurels. The most exquisite flowers were now added, and there seemed to
be no end to the pelting storm. They cried out, 'Enough, enough,' in
vain; the wreaths and bouquets still poured upon them in unceasing
streams; the floor was literally a bed of roses. At last, terror took
possession of them; they wished to escape, and rushed to the doors, but
they were immovable. Through the sea of flowers, which already reached
their knees, they waded to the window, but they were in the second
story, and below they saw the Roman legions with their sharp weapons
pointed in the air. Flight was impossible; they pleaded wildly for
mercy, but the inexorable stream of flowers continued to flow. Higher
and higher rose the walls around them; they could no longer even plead
for pity; they were literally buried in laurels. At last nothing was to
be seen but a vast bed of roses, of which not even a fragrant leaf was
stirred by a passing breeze. Heliogabalus had not murdered his
senators; he had suffocated them with sweets, that was all. Well, what
do you think of my story?" said Fredersdorf.
"It is full of interest, and Heliogabalus must have been poetical; but
I do not see the connection between the emperor and ourselves."
"You do not?" said his friend impatiently; "well, let us follow his
example. We will intoxicate this mighty king with enervating pleasures,
we will tempt him with wine and women, we will stifle him with flowers."
"But he has no taste for them," said Pollnitz, sighing.
"He does not care for the beauty of women, but he has other dangerous
tastes; he has no heart, but he has a palate; he does not care for the
love of women, but he enjoys good living--that will make one link in
his fetters. Then he loves pomp and splendor; he has so long been
forced to live meanly that wealth will intoxicate him; he will wish to
lavish honors and rain gold upon his people. Frederick William has
stowed away millions; we will help the son to scatter them."
"This will be a new and thrillingly agreeable pastime, in the ordering
of which he could not have a better adviser than yourself, baron."
"While Frederick and yourself are building new palaces and planning new
amusements, I will rule, and help him to bear the burden of state
affairs."
"You will help him to scatter millions, and I will collect from the
good Prussians new millions for him to scatter. It is to be hoped that
some heavy drops from this golden shower will fall into my purse," said
Pollnitz. "My finances are in an unhealthy state, and my landlord
threatens to sell my furniture and my jewels, because for more than a
year I have not paid my rent. You see now, Fredersdorf, that I must
have that house in Jager Street. I count upon it so surely that I have
already borrowed a few thousand dollars from some confiding noble
souls, whom I have convinced that the house is mine."
"You shall have it," said Fredersdorf; "the king will give it to you as
a reward for the plans you have drawn for the new palaces."
"Has he seen them?"
"Yes, and approves them. The papers are in his desk, and need but his
royal signature."
"Ah!" said Pollnitz, "if they were but signed! What a glorious life
would commence here! we would realize the Arabian Nights; and Europe
would gaze with dazzled eyes at the splendor and magnificence of our
court. How vexed the treasurer, Boden, will be when the king commands
him to disburse for our revels and vanities the millions which he
helped the late king to hoard together for far different purposes! This
Boden," said Pollnitz thoughtfully, "will be our most dangerous
opponent: you may believe this; I am somewhat versed in physiognomy. I
have studied his countenance; he is a bold, determined man, who, when
irritated, would even brave the king. All the other ministers agree
with our plans, and will not stand in our way. They are not dangerous;
I have made a compromise with them; they have resolved to think all we
do right. But Boden was inflexible; he would not understand my secret
signs or hints; flattery has no power over him, and he is alike
indifferent to promises and threats. All my dexterously aimed arrows
rebounded from the rough coat-of-mail with which his honesty has
clothed him."
"Do not concern yourself about Boden," cried Fredersdorf, "he is a lost
man; he falls without any aid from us. The king hates him, and is only
waiting for an opportunity to dismiss him. Have you not noticed how
contemptuously he treats him--never speaks to him or notices him, while
he loves to chat with his other ministers? Frederick did not dismiss
him from office at once, because the old king loved him. Boden was his
treasurer and confidential friend, from whom he had no secrets; the
king has therefore been patient; but his sun is set, of that you may be
convinced. The king, though he seems not to notice him, watches him
closely; one incautious movement and he will be instantly dismissed.
This may happen this very day."
"How?" said Pollnitz.
"The king has adopted the plan, which he had ordered Knobelsdorf to
sketch for him, for the new palace of the dowager-queen. It is to be a
colossal wonder--the capitol of the north! the building of which will
cost from four to five millions! These millions must come from Boden's
treasury; he must respect the royal order. If he does, he is an
unscrupulous officer, and the king can no longer put faith in him. If
he dares oppose the royal command, he is a traitor, and the king, who
demands silent and unconditional obedience from his officers, will
dismiss him. The king feels this himself, and when he gave me these
documents, he said, with a peculiar smile, 'This is a bitter pill for
Boden--we will see if he is able to swallow it.' You see, now, that our
good Boden stands between two pitfalls, from both of which he cannot
hope to escape alive."
"Ah, if this is true," said Pollnitz, gayly, "our success is assured.
The house in Jager Street will be mine, and you will be an influential
minister. We will govern the ruler of Prussia, and be mighty in the
land. Only think how all the courtiers will bow before us! The king
will do nothing without our advice. I will make more debts. I will be
as generous as Fouquet, and as lavish and luxurious as Lucullus; and if
at last all my resources fail, I will do as Heliogabalus did; if my
creditors become troublesome, the old Roman shall teach me how to
silence them by some refinement in hospitality."
"And I, the lowly born," said Fredersdorf, "who have so long been a
slave, will now have power and influence. The king loves me; I will be
a true and faithful servant to him. I will be inflexible to those who
have scorned me; those proud counts and barons, who have passed me by
unnoticed, shall now sue to me in vain. The king's heart is mine, and I
will be sustained by him. This tamed lion shall be drawn by prancing
steeds in gilded chariots; we will anoint him with honey and feed him
with nightingales' tongues; he shall bathe in Lachrymae Christi, and
all that the most fantastic dream and the wildest flights of fancy can
imagine shall be set before him. Those good epicurean Romans, who threw
young maidens into their ponds for their eels to feed upon, in order
that their meat might be tender and juicy, were sickly sentimentalists
in comparison with what I shall be--" he stopped, for the door opened,
and Boden, their hated enemy, stood before them. They looked upon him
indifferently, as a doomed adversary. Boden approached quietly, and
said to Fredersdorf:
"Have the kindness to announce me to his majesty."
"Has his majesty sent for you?" said Fredersdorf, carelessly.
"He has not sent for me, but please say to his majesty that I am come
to speak with him on important business."
Fredersdorf stepped into the adjoining room, and returned quickly,
saying with a triumphant and malicious smile: "The king says he will
send for you when he wishes to speak with you. These were his exact
words; accommodate yourself to them in future."
The minister's countenance was perfectly calm; his lip slightly
trembled; but he spoke in his usual grave, composed manner: "The king
may not desire to see me; but I, as an officer and minister of state,
have the most urgent reasons for desiring an audience. Go and tell him
this."
"These are proud, disrespectful words," said Pollnitz, smiling blandly.
"Which I will faithfully report to his majesty," said Fredersdorf.
"I fear your excellency will pay dearly for this speech," whispered
Pollnitz.
"Fear nothing for me," said Boden, with a quiet smile.
"His majesty awaits you," said Fredersdorf, still standing at the door.
Boden walked proudly by Fredersdorf, casting upon him a look of
contempt, who returned it with a mocking grin.
"The fox is caught," he whispered, as the door closed upon him.
"Do you think so?" said Pollnitz. "I am surprised and somewhat anxious
at the king's receiving him."
"Fear nothing, he is but received to be DISMISSED. The king's eye
flamed, and his brow, usually so clear, was heavily clouded; this
betokens storms; may they break upon Boden's devoted head! Come, let us
watch the tempest; there is nothing more instructive than a royal
hurricane."
"Let us profit by the occasion, then."
The two courtiers slipped noiselessly to the door and pushed the
curtains carefully to one side, so as to see and hear clearly.
CHAPTER II.
THE KING AND SECRETARY OF THE TREASURY.
The king received the secretary with a solemn and earnest bow. He stood
leaning upon his writing-table, his arms folded, and his glance fixed
upon Boden. Many a bold man had trembled at the eagle glance of
Frederick, but Boden looked up clear, and betrayed neither confusion
nor hesitation.
"You insisted positively upon seeing me," said Frederick, sternly; "let
me hear now what you have to say."
"I have much to say, and I must bespeak patience and indulgence; I fear
that my words will seem dry and tedious to your majesty."
"Speak; I will myself determine how far I can grant you patience and
indulgence."
"Your majesty is a fiery but noble and learned gentleman; besides this,
you are young, and youth has a daring will--can renew the old and
lumbering wheel and push the world forward in her progress. Your
majesty will, can, and must do this; God has given you not only the
power, but the intellect and strength. Your majesty will change many
things and inaugurate new measures. The old times must give way before
the new era. I saw that the first time I looked into my young king's
eye--in that bold eye in which is written a great and glorious future
for Prussia; I understood that we, who had served the sainted king,
might not appear worthy or young enough to carry out the purposes of
the royal successor of Frederick William. I waited, also, for my
dismissal; but it came not. Your majesty did not remove me from my
office, and I confess this gave me pleasure. I said to myself, The
king will not destroy, he will improve; and if he believes that his
father's old servants can help him in that, so will we serve him and
carry out his purposes with a holy zeal. I know the secret machinery of
state. The king concealed nothing from me. I will explain all this to
the young king; I will make him acquainted with this complicated and
widely spread power; I will have the honor to make known to him my
knowledge of the revenue and its uses. I rejoiced in the hope that I
may yet serve my fatherland.'"
"These are very friendly and perhaps well-meant propositions which you
are making me," said the king, with a light laugh. "Happily, however, I
do not need them. I know already what is necessary, and as I have found
amongst the papers of my father all the accounts of the states-general,
you can understand that I know exactly what I receive as revenue and
what I am to disburse. Besides all this, I will not fatigue myself in
minute details on this subject; I do not deem it of sufficient
importance. My time is much occupied, and I have more important and
better things to do than to weary myself over dull questions of
finance."
"No, majesty," cried Boden, "you have nothing more important or better
to do. The finances are the blood-vessels of the State, and the whole
body would sicken and die if these vessels should be choked or
irregular in their action."
"Then must we call the lancet to our aid," said the king. "I am the
physician of this revenue, you are the surgeon only when I need the
lancet; then will you strike the vein, and allow so much golden blood
to flow as I think good and necessary."
"No, this will I not do!" said Boden, resolutely; "your majesty can
dismiss me, but you cannot force me to act against my conscience."
"Boden!" cried the king in so loud and angry a tone that even the two
listening courtiers trembled and turned pale.
"This man is already a corpse," whispered Pollnitz. "I already smell,
even here, the refreshing fragrance of his body. We will bury him, and
be his smiling heirs."
"Look, look at the fearful glance of the king!" whispered Fredersdorf;
"his eyes crush the over-bold, even as the glance of Jove crushed the
Titans. Yes, you are right, Boden is a dead man. The king is so filled
with scorn, he has lost the power of speech."
"No, he opens his lips, let us listen."
"Boden," said the king, "you forget that you speak with the son, and
not with the father. You were the favorite of Frederick William, but
you are not mine; and I will not suffer this inconsiderate and
self-confident manner. Remember that, and go on."
"So long as I am in your service," said the minister, with a slight
bow, "it is my first and my holiest duty to express my opinions freely
to your majesty, to give you counsel according to the best of my
strength and my ability. It remains with your majesty to reject my
advice and to act differently, but still according to the constitution
of the State."
"The first duty of a servant is to give his counsel only when it is
demanded; as I did not desire yours, you might have spared yourself
this trouble."
"Your majesty did not ask my counsel, that is true," said the minister;
"you only remembered me when you had commands to give as to the
emptying of the royal treasury. Your majesty thought you had no use for
your finance minister, as you had all the papers relating to the states
general. Every one of your majesty's ministers is acquainted with these
matters, and yet they would not feel able to decide the question of the
disbursing of the kingly revenue, to say under what circumstances, and
conformably to the powers of the States, this revenue should be
disposed of. This, my king, requires a special knowledge, and I, as
minister of finance, dare boast that I understand this matter."
The king's brow became more and more clouded. "That may be," said he,
impatiently, "but I am not willing to be restrained in my operations by
narrow-minded laws; I will not live meanly like my father, and think
only of gathering millions together."
"Nor did King Frederick William live for that," said the minister
boldly; "he lived economically, but where there was want, he knew how
to give with a truly royal hand; this is proved by the provinces, by
the cities and villages which he built out of dust and ashes; this is
proved by the half million of happy men who now inhabit them in peace
and comfort. More than three millions of dollars did the king give to
Lithuania, which was a howling wilderness, filled with famine and
pestilence, until relieved by the generosity of their monarch; and
while doing this he watched with close attention the accounts of his
cook and spent but little money on the royal table. No! The king did
not only gather millions together; he knew how to disburse them
worthily."
"This man must be crazy," whispered Pollnitz; "he dares to praise the
dead king at the expense and in the teeth of the living; that is indeed
bold folly, and must lead to his destruction. The king has turned away
from him; see, he goes to the window and looks without; he will give
himself time to master his scorn and conquer the desire which he feels
to crush this daring worm to the earth. I tell you," said Pollnitz, "I
would give Boden a hundred glasses of champagne from my cellar in the
Jager Street if I could see the king punish him with his own hands."
The king turned again to the minister, who looked at him like a man who
dared all and was resigned to all; he thought, with Pollnitz and
Fredersdorf, that the king would crush him in his wrath. But
Frederick's face was calm, and a strangely mild glance beamed in his
eye.
"Well, if you praise my father for disbursing millions, so will you
also be content with me, for it is my purpose zealously to imitate him.
I will begin by putting my court upon a truly royal footing; I will
live as it becomes the King of Prussia. The necessary preparations are
already commenced, and a detailed plan lies now upon the table; I will
sign it to-day."
"May I read it, your majesty?" said Boden.
The king nodded, Boden took the paper and glanced hastily over it,
while the king folded his arms behind him and walked backwards and
forwards.
"I find the king wondrously wearisome and patient," murmured
Fredersdorf; "it is not his manner generally to withhold so long his
crushing glances."
"And with what derisive laughter that man there reads my plan!" said
Pollnitz, gnashing his teeth; "truly one might think he was making
sport of it."
"Have you read it?" said the king, standing still before Boden, and
looking at him sharply.
"Yes, your majesty, I have read it."
"Well, and what think you of it?"
"That only Pollnitz, who it is well known has no gold, and is only
acquainted with debt, could have drawn out such a plan, for the
realization of which, not only Prussian gold, but a fountain of gold
from the Arabian Nights would be necessary."
"I swear I will break this fellow's neck!" said Pollnitz.
A faint smile might be seen on the lips of Frederick. "You do not
approve of this plan?" said he.
"Your majesty, we have no strong box from which this sum can be
abstracted, and if you are resolved to take from the State treasury the
sum necessary for this purpose, so will this also be exhausted during
the first year."
"Well, let us leave this plan for the present, and tell me how you
stand as to the means necessary to build the palace of the
queen-mother. Have you received my instructions?"
"I have received them."
"And you have disbursed the sum necessary?"
"No, sire, I cannot."
"How! cannot, when I your king and lord command it?"
Boden bowed respectfully. "Your majesty, there is a greater lord--that
is, my conscience; my conscience forbids me to take this sum from the
strong box designated. You require four millions of dollars, and you
desire that this sum shall be taken from the money set apart for the
maintenance of the army and the assistance of famished and suffering
villages and towns. I acknowledge that the court of his sainted majesty
was somewhat niggardly, and that you, sire, may justly find some
changes necessary. If, however, it is determined to use for this
purpose the funds set apart for other important objects, then must your
majesty impose new and heavy taxes upon your subjects, or you must
diminish the army."
"Diminish my army!" said the king; "never, never shall that be done!"
"Then, sire, if the building of a palace is absolutely necessary, take
the sum for this purpose from your royal treasury; it contains now
seven millions of dollars, and as there is no war in prospect, you may
well use four millions of the seven in building a castle."
"No, this will not do!" said Frederick. "This money is set apart for
other objects; you shall take these four millions from the designated
sources."
"I have had already the honor to show your majesty the consequence of
such a course. You declare you will not diminish the army: it only
remains then to impose a new tax."
"Do that, then," said the king, indifferently; "write a command for a
new tax; that is your affair."
The minister looked at the king in painful surprise, and a profound
sorrow was painted in his face.
"If this must be so, your majesty," said he, with a deeply moved voice,
"then is the hour of my dismissal at hand, and I know what I have to
do; I am no longer young enough to bear the burden of a portfolio; I
belong to the old and cautious time, and my ideas do not suit the young
era. I ask your majesty, in all humility and submission, to give me my
dismissal. Here is the paper which contains the plan of the palace; you
will readily find another who will obey your commands. I am not
sufficiently GROWN for this post of finance minister. I beg also for my
dismissal."
"AT LAST," said the king, with glistening eyes.
"At last!" repeated Pollnitz; "truly it was a long time before this
cowardly man could be brought to the point."
"Did I not tell you that the king was resolved to get rid of Boden?"
said Fredersdorf; "but let us listen! no, why should we listen? Boden
has handed in his resignation, and the king has accepted it. I confess
my back aches from this crouching position; I will go and drink a glass
of champagne to the health of the new minister of finance."
"You must not go. The king asked for you as Boden was announced, and
commanded that we should wait here in the ante-room until called, as he
had something of importance to communicate. Without doubt he will
present me to-day with the deed of the house in Jager Street. Look! in
the last window niche I see a pair of very inviting chairs; let us make
ourselves comfortable."
The king had said "At last!" as Boden offered his resignation; after a
short silence he added: "It seems to me that you hesitated a long time
before resigning."
"It is true," said Boden sadly; "I certainly had occasion to take this
step earlier, but I still hoped I might be useful to my king."
"And this hope has not deceived you," said Frederick, drawing near to
Boden, and laying his hand on his shoulder; "I cannot accept your
resignation."
Boden looked up amazed. The king's face was beautiful to behold--a
touching and gentle expression spoke in every noble feature; his
light-blue eye beamed with gladness and goodness.
"How! Your majesty will not accept my resignation?"
"No, it would be great folly in me," said Frederick, in a tone which
brought tears to the eyes of the minister; "it would be great folly to
deprive myself of so noble and faithful a servant. No, Boden, I am not
so great a spendthrift as to cast away such a treasure. Now in order
that you may understand your king, I will make you a confession: you
had been slandered to me, and my distrust awakened. It was said of you
that you filled the State treasury while the people hungered; it was
said of you that you were resolved to hold on to your office, and
therefore carried out the commands of the king, even though unjust to
the people. I wished to prove you, Boden, to see if you had been
SLANDERED or justly charged; I handled you, therefore, contemptuously;
I gave you commissions which were oppressive; I drew upon the treasury
so as to exhaust it fully; I wished to know if you were only a
submissive servant or an honest man; I had long to wait, and your
patience and forbearance were great. To-day I put you to the extremest
proof, and by God! if you had carried out my unjust and unwise
instructions, I would not only have deprived you of your office, but I
would have held you to a strict account. You would have been a
dishonest servant, who, in order to flatter the king, was willing to
sin against the people. The welfare of my people is holy to me, and
they shall not be oppressed by new taxes. Praised be God! I can say I
understand my duties; may every ruler do the same. May they keep their
eyes steadily fixed upon their great calling; may they feel that this
exaltation, this rank of which they are so proud, so jealous, is the
gift of the people, whose happiness is intrusted to them; that millions
of men have not been created to be the slaves of one man, to make him
more terrible and more powerful. The people do not place themselves
under the yoke of a fellow-man to be the martyrs of his humor and the
playthings of his pleasure. No, they choose from amongst them the one
they consider the most just, in order that he may govern them; THE
BEST, to be their father; the most humane, that he may sympathize and
assist them; the bravest, to defend them from their enemies; the
wisest, that they may not be dragged without cause into destructive
wars--the man, in short, who seems to them the best suited to govern
himself and them; to use the sovereign power, to sustain justice and
the laws, and not to play the tyrant. These are my views of what a king
should be, and I will fulfil my calling, so help me God! You, Boden,
must stand by and give me honest help."
In the eyes of the minister might be seen joyful tears and a noble
ambition; he bowed low and kissed the extended hand of the king.
"How gracious has God been to my fatherland in giving it such a prince!"
"You will not, then, insist upon your resignation?" said the king. "You
are content to serve me, provided I do not diminish my army, and do not
impose new taxes upon the people?"
"I will be proud and happy to serve my king," said Boden, deeply moved.
"I must tell you, Boden, this will be no light service, and my
ministers will be hereafter less important personages than they have
supposed themselves to be; I shall closely observe them all, and shall
require much work of them, but I myself will be diligent. It seems to
me an idle prince is a poor creature, that the world has little use
for. I am resolved to serve my country with all my powers; but I will
stand alone, independent, self-sustaining. My ministers will only be my
instruments to carry out my purposes; they will have much to do, and
have no influence. I will have no favorite, and never consult any other
will than my own; but I shall require of them to express their opinions
frankly and without fear in answer to my questions, and that they shall
not fail to call my attention to any errors I may commit, either
through haste or want of judgment."
"All this I will do," said Boden, deeply moved. "So truly as God will
give me strength, I will serve my king and my fatherland faithfully to
the end."
"We are agreed, then," said Frederick; "you will remain my minister. If
you had not demanded your dismissal, I should have given it to you. I
should have seen that you were justly accused, and were determined to
remain minister at any price. Thank God, you have proved to me that you
are an honest man! But," said the king, "you are not only an honest
man, but a bold, unterrified, truthful man; a true friend, grateful for
benefits received, you do not cease to love your king and benefactor,
even after his death. You have had the courage to defend the dead king,
and to reproach his successor. The king cannot thank you for this; but
as a son, I thank you--I say, 'Come to my heart, true and faithful
servant.' We kings are too poor to reward our servants in any other way
than by confiding love." The king opened his arms and pressed Boden to
his heart, who wept aloud. "And now," cried the king, "we understand
each other, and know what we have to expect, and that is always a great
gain in this world, full of disappointment, hypocrisy, and cunning. I
will now give you a proof that I do not close my ear to the reasonable
counsels of my minister, and that I am ready to offer up my personal
wishes; I will not build this palace for my mother; you have convinced
me that I have not the income to do so. I cannot take four millions
from the State treasury. This money will soon be needed for a more
important object. But some changes are absolutely necessary in the
royal palace; it must be made more worthy of a king. Take, therefore,
these plans and designs; strike from them what you consider
superfluous. Let me know what additions you think it best to adopt, and
from what source we can draw the necessary funds."[15]
[15] "History of Berlin," Thiebault.
CHAPTER III.
THE UNDECEIVED COURTIER.
At the time that the king was placing the extravagant plans, which
Baron von Pollnitz had drawn up, into the hands of his minister of
finance, the baron was waiting in the ante-room, in a state of smiling
security, entertaining his friend Fredersdorf with an account of his
own future splendor and magnificence, speaking especially of the
entertainments which he intended giving in his new house in Jager
Street. When at length the door of the royal cabinet was opened, and
the minister of finance entered the ante-room, Pollnitz and Fredersdorf
stood up, not however to greet the minister, but to pass him with a
cold, contemptuous smile on their way to the door of the cabinet. The
smile died suddenly on Pollnitz's lips, and he stood as if transfixed
before the minister.
"What are those papers which you hold?" he asked, extending his hand as
if he would tear the papers from Baron von Boden.
The minister pushed him back, as he carelessly shrugged his shoulders.
"These are papers which his majesty handed me, that I might examine
their contents, and see if they contained any thing but folly."
"Sir," said Pollnitz, beside himself with rage, "these papers--" but he
became suddenly silent, for the door of the cabinet was opened again,
and the king entered the room.
He glanced scornfully at Pollnitz, who was scarcely able to conceal his
anger, and approached Baron von Boden. "One thing more, minister," said
the king, "I had forgotten that I had prepared a little surprise for
you; I am aware that you are not rich, although you are the minister of
finance, and I understand that you live in a limited way, scarcely
worthy of your rank. We must alter this, and happily I know a house
which even Baron von Pollnitz declares is worthy a nobleman. I present
this house to you, with its entire contents. From this moment it is
yours, and Baron von Pollnitz must go with you, and show it to you; he
can point out to you all the advantages and conveniences which he has
so often praised to me."
Pollnitz stood pale, trembling, and confused. "I do not know of what
house your majesty speaks," he stammered, "of what house I can have
said that it was worthy of the minister of finance."
"Not of the minister of finance, but of a nobleman, and Boden is a
nobleman, not only in name but in reality; and is entirely worthy to
possess the house which I have presented to him. You are well
acquainted with it, Pollnitz; it is the house which my father had built
for Eckert, the beautiful house in Jager Street."
"The house in Jager Street!" cried Pollnitz, forgetting the restraint
which the presence of the king usually imposed. "No, no, your majesty
is pleased to jest. You do not mean the house in Jager Street, that
house which--"
"That house," interrupted the king, in a stern voice, "that house which
pleased you so well, that you, as foolish children sometimes do,
confused reality with your dreams, and imagined that this house already
belonged to you, merely because you desired that it should do so. I
would have smiled at this childish folly, if it had remained an
amusement for your unemployed fancy; but you have deceived others as
well as yourself, and that is an unpardonable fault, and one which you
must repair immediately, if you do not wish to be dismissed from my
service."
"I do not understand your majesty; I do not know how I have forfeited
the favor of my king."
The king glanced angrily at the pale, trembling courtier. "You
understand perfectly, Baron von Pollnitz, of which fault, amongst the
many that you daily and hourly commit, I speak. You know that it has
pleased you to declare the house, which I have just presented to Boden,
to be yours, and that you have found credulous people who have lent you
money on that representation."
"Will your majesty grant me a favor?" said Minister von Boden, glancing
kindly at Pollnitz, who stood near him crushed and trembling.
The king consented by bowing silently, and the minister proceeded:
"Your majesty has just made me most rich and happy, and I consider it
my duty, as it is my pleasure, to share both riches and happiness with
my fellow-creatures. Baron von Pollnitz, by the commands of the late
king, executed the plans for the house which your majesty has so kindly
presented to me; he also selected the decorations and furniture, and
this may have led him to believe that the house, which had been built
and furnished according to his taste, might become his own. I am much
indebted to Pollnitz, for a man so plain and simple as I am would never
have been able to make this house so tasteful and elegant. Permit me,
therefore, your majesty, to liquidate this debt by considering the
small mortgage which Baron von Pollnitz has put upon this house, as my
affair."
"What reply do you make to this proposition?" said the king, turning to
Pollnitz.
"That if your majesty allows me I will accept it with pleasure, and I
merely wish to ask the minister whether he will only take up those
mortgages which I have already put upon the house, or the others which
I intended putting?"
"Ah!" cried the king, laughing, "you are incorrigible. If poor Boden is
to satisfy not only your old creditors but your new ones, the present I
have made him would probably reduce him to beggary in a few months. No,
no, this one mortgage is sufficient, and as it amounts to only a few
thousand dollars, it shall be paid from my purse; and that my gift to
you, Boden, may have no drawback, Pollnitz may consider himself thus
repaid for his trouble about the plans and arrangements of your house.
But woe to you, Pollnitz, if I should again hear of such folly and
deceit; and if you do not give up such disgraceful conduct, and act in
a manner becoming your rank and office, this is the last time that I
will show any mercy for your folly. If there is a repetition of it, I
will be inexorable, only a stern judge and king."
"Your majesty plunges me into an abyss of despair," said Pollnitz,
swinging his hands. "You demand that I shall create no new debts; and
how is it possible to avoid that, when I have not even the money to pay
the old ones? If your majesty desires that I should lead a new life,
you should have the kindness to pay my old debts."
The king paced the room silently for a short time, and then stood
before Pollnitz, and said:
"You are so shameless and absurd that I must either drive you away or
content myself with laughing at you. I will, however, remember that my
father and grandfather laughed at you, and for the present I will also
laugh, as I laugh at the silly pranks of merry Mr. Raths, my monkey.
But even Mr. Raths was punished yesterday because he was too daring
with his monkey tricks. Mark this, Baron von Pollnitz, I will pay your
debts this time; but if it should occur to you to make new ones, I will
forget that you were the jester of my father and grandfather, and only
remember that so reckless an individual cannot remain in my service.
Now accompany the minister to the Jager Street, and show him his house.
Your audience is at an end, gentlemen."
After these gentlemen had left the room, the king stood for a long time
as if lost in thought. He did not appear to be aware that he was not
alone, that Fredersdorf was standing in the window, to which he had
withdrawn on the appearance of the king, and had been a trembling,
despairing witness to this scene, which had disturbed his plans and
hopes. Suddenly the king walked rapidly through the room, and stood
before Fredersdorf--his eyes, usually so clear and bright, veiled as
with a cloud, and an expression of deep melancholy upon his noble face.
"Fredersdorf," he said, with a voice so mild and gentle that his hearer
trembled, and a deadly pallor overspread his countenance--"Fredersdorf,
is it really true that you all think of me only as your king, never as
your fellow-man? that you have no love for your sovereign, only envy
and hatred, only malice and cunning? And you, also, Fredersdorf, you
whom I have loved, not as a master loves his servant, but as a dear
friend, with whom I have often forgotten that I was a prince, and only
remembered that I was with a friend, who had a feeling heart for my
cares and sorrows, and entertained a little love not for the prince but
for the man. Are you all determined to make me cold-hearted and
distrustful? are you laboring to turn my heart to stone--to cut off my
soul from faith and love? A day will come when you will call me cold
and relentless, and no one will say that it was those I loved and
trusted who made me thus."
"Mercy! mercy! my king," prayed Fredersdorf, sinking to the feet of the
king. "Kill me! destroy me with your anger! only do not show me such
kindness and love. Oh! your majesty does not know how I love you, how
my heart is bound up in yours; but I have a wild and ambitious heart,
and in the thirst of my ambition I was not satisfied to remain the
servant of my king. I wished to become powerful and influential. I
longed to mount high above those who now look down upon and despise me
because I am a servant. This, my king, is my whole crime, the
remorseful confession of my guilt."
"You did not wish to betray your king, you only desired to be the lord
of your lord. You wished to reign through me. Poor Fredersdorf, do you
think it such happiness to be a king? Do you not know that this royal
crown, which seems so bright to you, is only a crown of thorns, which
is concealed with a little tinsel and a few spangles? Poor Fredersdorf,
you are ambitious; I will gratify you in this as far as possible, but
you must conquer the desire to control my will, and influence my
resolutions. A king is only answerable to God," proceeded the king,
"and only from God can he receive control or commands. I am the servant
of God, but the master of men. I will gratify your ambition,
Fredersdorf, I will give you a title. You shall no longer be a mere
servant, but a private secretary; and that you may be a master as well
as a servant, I present you the estate Czernihon, near Rheinsberg.
There you will be lord of your peasants and workmen, and learn if it is
not a thankless office to rule. Are you satisfied, my poor Fredersdorf?"
Fredersdorf could not answer; he pressed his lips to the hand of the
king, and wept aloud.
CHAPTER IV.
THE BRIDAL PAIR.
Joy and exultation reigned in the house of the rich manufacturer
Orguelin. The proud daughter had consented to become the wife of Count
Rhedern; she had at last accepted him, and the happy father, delighted
at the prospect of soon becoming father-in-law to a count, busied
himself with the preparations for the approaching wedding festivities,
which were destined to excite the admiration and astonishment of the
entire city by their magnificence and prodigal splendor. At this
festival the future Countess Rhedern was to appear for the last time in
the circle of her old friends, and then to take leave of them forever;
for as a matter of course the Countess Rhedern would have to form new
friendships and seek other society than that to which she had been
accustomed as Mademoiselle Orguelin. But M. Orguelin desired to exhibit
to his associates, the manufacturers and merchants, this splendid
nobleman who had now become his son; he wished to excite the envy and
admiration of his friends by the princely magnificence of his house.
But all this was far from being agreeable to Count Rhedern, who had
other plans. His creditors and his poverty compelled him to marry this
rich merchant's daughter, but he had no desire or intention of entering
into any association or connection with the friends and relations of
his wife; and even if it should be necessary to recognize his rich
father-in-law, it did not follow that he would appear at his fetes to
add lustre to the entertainment and be shown off as a highly ornamented
acquisition. He trembled when he thought of the ridicule of the court
cavaliers, to whom it would be an inexhaustible subject of jest, that
he, the marshal of the queen, and a cavalier of old nobility, had
played this role at a fete of the bourgeoisie, and had conversed,
eaten, and danced with manufacturers and tradespeople. That could not
and should not be. To preserve the prestige of his house, a nobleman
might marry the daughter of a merchant, if she possessed a million, but
he could not stoop so low as to consider himself a member of her
family, and to recognize this or that relative. Count Rhedern thought
of some plan by which he could frustrate this scheme of his
father-in-law in regard to the wedding festivities, which would bring
him into such undesirable and disagreeable association with persons
beneath his rank, as he desired to avoid as far as possible all eclat
in this misalliance. With a smiling countenance he entered one morning
into the magnificent parlor of his affianced, who with her father's
assistance was engaged in making out a list of the wedding guests. The
count seated himself near his future bride, and listened with inward
horror to the terrible and barbarous names which were placed on the
list, the possessors of which could never appear at a knightly
tournament or court festival, and were consequently excluded from all
the joys and honors of the world.
"Well," said the father exultingly, "what do you think of our fete? It
will be perfectly magnificent, will it not? The richest merchants of
Berlin will be present; and if one were to estimate us by our wealth,
it would be found that more millions would be assembled there than
Germany has inhabitants. You will readily understand, my dear son, that
in order to do honor to such guests, great preparations are necessary,
for it is not easy to excite the astonishment and admiration of these
proud merchants. It is quite easy to surprise one of your barons or
counts; you are delighted when entertained with champagne or fine
Holstein oysters, but a rich merchant turns scornfully from turtle-soup
and Indian birds'-nests. Nevertheless, my proud guests shall be
surprised; they shall have a fine dinner, the like of which they have
never seen. For this purpose I have ordered two of the best cooks from
Paris, who will arrive in a few days. They have written that they will
need at least two weeks to make the necessary preparations for the
wedding-dinner. For their services I will pay them a salary which is
perhaps equal to the half-yearly pay of a marshal or chamberlain.
Moreover, we will have fireworks, illuminations, splendid music; yes, I
have even thought of having a stage erected, and of engaging a French
company to amuse our guests with a few comedies."
"I am only afraid that but few of our guests will understand a word of
these French plays," exclaimed his daughter, laughing.
"That is quite possible; nevertheless French is now the rage, and it
will attract attention if we have a French play. And you, my dear son,
what do you say to all this? You look almost vexed."
"I sigh because you wish to defer the wedding for so long a time."
"Ah, that is a compliment for you, my daughter. Lovers are always
impatient."
"But I did not sigh only because I would so long be deprived of the
happiness of leading my dear Caroline to the altar, but because I
should thereby lose the pleasure of presenting her to the court as my
wife on the occasion of the large and most magnificent court ball with
which the season will be opened."
"A court ball is to take place?" asked Caroline Orguelin, with
vivacity. "The king has, I believe, not yet returned from his journey."
"But will do so in a few days, and as the court mourning is now at an
end, the king will give a brilliant masquerade ball, which will
probably be the only one given this winter."
"A masquerade ball!" exclaimed his bride; "and I have never seen one!"
"And this is to be a most magnificent one. Moreover, the queen-mother
has already promised me an invitation for my wife, and requested me to
present her to the entire court on this occasion."
"And is it impossible to have the wedding any sooner?" asked Caroline,
impatiently.
"Quite impossible," said M. Orguelin.
"And why impossible?" said the count. "Could we not have the wedding at
an early day, and the festival later? Could we not, as is now customary
in high circles, be married quietly, and have the festival at a later
day? These noisy weddings are a little out of fashion at the present
day, and it would be said at court that the wealthy and highly
cultivated M. Orguelin showed his disregard for the customs of our
young and modern court by adhering to those of the old regime."
"God forbid that I should do that!" exclaimed M. Orguelin, in a
terrified voice.
"Father, I detest noisy merry-makings, and insist on a quiet marriage.
It shall not be said at court that Mademoiselle Orguelin, with all her
acquaintances, had rejoiced over the inestimable happiness of becoming
the wife of a count. I will be married quietly; afterwards the count
may give a fete in honor of our marriage, which you, my father, can
return."
As usual, M. Orguelin submitted to his daughter's will, and it was
determined that a quiet wedding should take place in a few days, to be
followed on a later day by a magnificent fete in the house of the
father-in-law.
"At which I shall certainly not be present," thought Count Rhedern,
while he expressed his entire satisfaction with this arrangement.
Mademoiselle Orguelin's proudest wishes were about to be accomplished.
She was to be introduced at court, and the queen-mother had graciously
declared her intention of presenting her to the king at the approaching
masquerade. There was now wanting but one thing, and that was a
suitable costume for this important occasion, and Count Rhedern assured
her, with a sigh, that it would be very difficult to prepare it, as it
would be almost impossible to find a tailor who would undertake to
make, in so short a time, the gold-brocaded train which was necessary.
"Pelissier, the new French tailor, has even refused to make a little
cloak for me," said Count Rhedern, "and his female assistants,--who are
the most fashionable dress-makers, have been deaf to all entreaties for
the last week. They take no more orders for the masquerade, and it was
only yesterday that I met Countess Hake, who had been with the pretty
Blanche while I was with her father, descending the steps, wringing her
hands and bathed in tears, because the proud dressmakers had replied to
her prayers and entreaties with a cruel 'Impossible!'"
"I know, however, that M. Pricker, the court dressmaker of the two
queens, would not make me this reply," said Caroline Orguelin, proudly,
"but that he would make whatever is necessary even if he should be
forced to take several additional assistants."
"Then let us drive to M. Pricker's," said her affianced, smiling; "but
we must go at once, for we have no time to lose, and you can well
imagine that I would be inconsolable if, after our marriage, I could
not present you to the court as my wife on the first suitable occasion."
"Yes, we have no time to lose," repeated Caroline, ringing a bell and
ordering her carriage. When, after a few minutes, Caroline Orguelin and
the count were alone in the carriage, she turned to him with a mocking
smile, and remarked: "The wedding is, then, to take place the day after
to-morrow."
"Yes, my dearest Caroline, and on that day I will be the happiest of
men."
"Your creditors," said she, shrugging her shoulders, "were then
becoming so pressing that you suddenly experienced an ardent longing
for my dowry."
"My creditors?" asked the count; "I do not understand you, dearest
Caroline."
"You understand me very well," said she, with cutting coldness; "it is,
moreover, time that we understand each other, once for all. Know,
therefore, my dear sir, that I have not allowed myself to be deceived
either by your tender protestations or by the role of an impatient
lover, which you have acted so well. I am neither young nor pretty
enough to awaken a passion in the breast of so noble and excellent a
cavalier as Count Rhedern. You are poor, but rich in debts, and you
needed therefore a rich wife; and as I happened to have more money than
any of the beautiful and noble ladies of the court, you determined to
marry me, deeming my rich dowry a sufficient compensation for the
disgrace inflicted on your noble house. In a word, you chose me because
you were tired of being dunned by your creditors, and of living in a
state of secret misery; and I--I bought Count Rhedern with my millions,
in order that I might appear at court."
"Well, truly, these confessions are very curious, highly original,"
said Count Rhedern, with a forced smile.
"They are, however, necessary. We need no longer trouble ourselves with
this useless acting and hypocrisy. It is also but just that I should
inform you why I so ardently desire to become a lady of quality, that
is, why I wish to be able to appear at court, for I hope you do not
consider me silly enough to buy a count for the mere sake of being
called countess?"
"I should consider this wish by no means a silly one," murmured the
count.
"No," continued his bride. "I desired to become a countess that I might
obtain access to court and enjoy a happiness of which thousands would
be envious, although like the moth I could only flutter round the
brilliant and dazzling light until it burned me to death. I told you I
was no longer young. I, however, still have a young heart, a fresher
heart perhaps than all your proud and beautiful ladies of the court,
for mine was as hard and clear as crystal, until--"
"Well, conclude," said the count, as she hesitated; "continue these
little confessions, which are certainly rarely made before, but
generally after marriage. You spoke of your heart having been as hard
and clear as crystal, until--"
"Until I had seen the king," continued his bride, blushing, "until I
had gazed in those wondrous eyes, until I had seen the smile, so proud,
and yet so mild and gentle, with which he greeted his people from the
balcony."
"It was then at the coronation that you formed the genial resolution of
loving the king."
"Yes, it was on the coronation day that I for the first time
comprehended how grand, how noble and sublime a true man could be. And
my soul bowed in humility and obedience before the commanding glance of
this Titan, and my heart bowed in adoration at the feet of this man,
whose smile was so wondrous, and whose eyes spoke such great things.
Oh! had I been near him as you were, I would have fallen at his feet
and have said to him: 'I accept you as my master and my divinity; you
are my ideal, and I will adore you as such with a pure and noble
worship.' But I was far off, and could only pray to him in thought. I
determined that I would be near him at some day; and I, who had wished
to remain single, determined at this moment to marry--but to marry only
a cavalier of the court. I inquired of my companion the names of the
cavaliers who stood behind the king, and the most of them were married,
but you were not, and I was told that you possessed a great many debts
and very small means of paying them. On this day I told my father: 'I
wish to marry Count Rhedern, I desire that you should purchase him for
me, as you recently purchased the handsome set of Nuremburg jewelry.'"
"Really, a very flattering and ingenious view of the matter," said the
count, with a forced laugh.
Caroline continued: "My father intrusted this affair to a broker who
had frequently done business for him before, and who proved to be an
apt trader on this occasion, for you see he purchased the goods we
desired, and the business transaction has been concluded. Count, you
will now understand why I made the condition that I should be admitted
at court, and recognized as your countess, before I determined to
become your wife."
"I understand perfectly well," said the count, peevishly; "you made use
of me as a bridge over which you might pass from your father's shop to
the royal palace, as I will make use of you to pay my debts, and to
enable me to live a life worthy of a count. Ah, now that we understand
one another so well, we will be perfectly at ease, and live a free and
unconstrained life without annoying each other."
"Still, my dear count, you will sometimes experience a slight annoyance
at my hands," said the millionnairess, gently placing her hand on the
count's shoulder. "It was not only on account of your creditors that
you desired so early a marriage, but mainly because the count
considered it beneath his dignity to take part in the festivities of
manufacturers and merchants. But I must inform you, dear sir, that I
shall never forget that my father is a merchant, and that all my
friends are the daughters of manufacturers and merchants. I will be a
grateful daughter and a true friend, and I will compel you to show the
same respect to my father and friends that I will show to yours."
"Compel!" exclaimed the count, "you will compel me?"
"I said compel, and you will soon perceive that it is in my power to do
so. Listen: my father promised you that my dowry should be a million,
out of which, however, your debts, and the expense of my trousseau, are
to be defrayed. Your debts, including the mortgage on your estates,
amount to two hundred thousand, and my trousseau, diamonds, and the
furnishing of my house will cost about the same sum. There will remain,
therefore, but six hundred thousand, of which you will enjoy the
benefit, according to our marriage contract. But you will readily
understand that the interest of this small capital will not support the
daughter of a rich merchant respectably, and that if I should desire to
entertain the king in my house, I would perhaps expend in one evening
the half of my income."
The count regarded his bride with admiration, almost with reverence.
"You then think that we could not live on the interest of six hundred
thousand dollars?" asked he.
"I do not only think so, but I am sure of it, for I needed as much when
a girl. Ah, my dear count, a great deal of money is necessary to
gratify one's humors and caprices. My father is well aware of this
fact, and has, therefore, given me as pin money a second million; this
will, however, remain in his business, and I shall only receive the
interest in monthly payments. I must, however, remark that this
interest is not a part of my dowry, but is my personal property, with
which I can do as I see fit. I can, if I wish, give fetes with this
money, pay your debts, purchase horses and equipages for you, or I can
give it to my father, who can make very good use of it in his business.
And now pay attention: whenever you choose to neglect the proper and
dutiful attention due to your wife, her father, or her friends, I will
relinquish my pin money to my father, and you must look to some other
source for the necessary funds."
"But I shall always be an attentive and grateful husband, and a dutiful
son to your father," exclaimed the count, charmed with the prospect of
a second million.
"Then you will do well," said his bride, gravely, "for your monthly
income will thereby be increased by four thousand dollars. You see I am
a true merchant's daughter, and understand accounts. I have bought you,
and know your worth, but I also desire to be properly esteemed and
respected by you. You must never think you have honored me by making me
a countess, but must always remember that my father is a millionnaire,
whose only daughter and heiress pays you for your amiability, your
title, and her admission to court. And now enough of these tedious
affairs. The carriage has stopped, and we have arrived at our
destination; let us put on our masks again, and be the fond lovers who
marry for pure love and tenderness."
"And in truth you deserve to be loved," exclaimed the count, pressing
her hand to his lips. "You are the most discreet and charming of women,
and I have no doubt that I will love you ardently some day."
"Poor count," said she, laughing, "on that day you will deserve
commiseration, for I shall certainly never fall in love with you. A
heart like mine loves but once, and dies of that love."
"I hope that this death will at least be a very slow one," said the
count, jumping out of the carriage, and assisting his bride elect to
descend.
CHAPTER V.
THE FRENCH AND GERMAN TAILORS, OR THE MONTAGUES AND CAPULETS OF BERLIN.
M. Pricker stood at his window; his face was sad, and he looked with a
troubled gaze at the house on the other side of the street. This was
the house of the new French tailor, Pelissier. Many splendid equipages
were drawn up before the door, and crowds of gayly dressed men and
women were passing in and out. Alas for earthly grandeur! alas for
popular applause! Pricker stood at his window, no one rang his bell,
not a carriage was to be seen at his door, since the arrival of the
French tailor. Pricker was a lost man, wounded in his ambition, his
most sacred feelings trampled upon, and his just claim to the gratitude
of his generation disallowed. What advantage was it to him to be the
acknowledged tailor of two queens? Since, in the ardor of his
patriotism, he had refused to employ French hands, not one of all those
ladies who had formerly confided to him the secrets of their toilets
remembered his discretion, or his ability to hide their defects, or
supply their wants. The fickle and ungrateful world had forsaken him.
Even the Hohenzollerns had forgotten the great deeds and still greater
services of the Prickers, and no longer knew how to reward true merit.
Since Pelissier took the opposite house, Pricker's heart was broken;
night and day he was consumed with anguish; but he made no complaint,
he suffered in Spartan silence, and like a hero covered his bleeding
wounds. One soft eye, one kindred heart discovered his silent sorrow;
she, too, sorrowed as those without hope; she had not even the courage
to offer consolation. In this hour of extremity poor Pricker sometimes
thought of selling his house, but the next moment he would blush at his
weakness and cowardice in thus abandoning the field to his foe.
In spiteful arrogance the French tailor had settled himself in the
opposite house. It was a struggle for life or death offered by
Pelissier, and it should not be said that a Pricker ignominiously
declined the contest. Pricker must remain, he must defy his adversary,
and yield only in death to this dandy Frenchman; he would therefore
remain in those ancestral halls, which had so long sheltered the tailor
of the two queens. He remained, but the death-worm was gnawing at his
heart. Pricker still gazed across the street, and with an added pang he
saw another carriage rolling in that direction; but no, this time the
carriage turned to his side of the street. In the first joy of his
heart he sprang forward to open the door and aid the ladies in
descending; he checked himself in time, however, remembering that this
would compromise the dignity of his house.
In a few moments Madame Pricker announced the rich Mademoiselle
Orguelin and her future husband. Pricker advanced to meet them with
calm composure, but there was tumultuous joy in his heart.
"You will be surprised, my dear Pricker, that we did not send for you,
but we should have lost time by that, and our affairs demand the
greatest haste."
Pricker bowed proudly. "My house is accustomed to receive noble
persons; my grandfather had once the happiness to welcome a prince. In
what can I serve you?"
"I need two complete court toilets," said Mademoiselle Orguelin--"the
robes for a first presentation, and then for a great court ball."
"Then you wish a robe with a brocade train; I would choose blue velvet,
it is most becoming to blondes, and throws a heavenly light upon their
complexions."
"Then we will take sky blue," said the millionnaire, "with a train of
silver. For the ball dress, my father has given me a dress woven in
velvet and gold."
"Your toilets will be superb, and the appearance of the Countess
Rhedern will do honor to the house of Pricker."
"You must promise to be ready in eight days."
"In four, if necessary," said Pricker, taking the long measure from his
wife and approaching the lady.
"I leave the trimmings entirely to your taste, but of course my dress
must be of the newest French cut."
Pricker had laid the measure around the slender waist of Mademoiselle
Orguelin; he now removed it violently. "You desire your dresses made
after the latest French style?" he said, harshly.
"Of course; that is surely understood; no decent tailor would work in
any other style. I should indeed be ridiculous to appear at court in a
stiff old German costume. You must make me the tight-fitting French
waist, the long points in front, the narrow sleeves reaching to the
elbow and trimmed with rich lace."
Pricker folded his measure with heroic determination and laid it upon
the table.
"Your dress cannot be made in the house of Pricker, mademoiselle."
"What, you refuse to work for me?"
"I will not adopt the French fashions! that would be an insult to my
ancestors. I will remain true to the good old German customs."
"Reflect," said Count Rhedern, "how much this obstinacy will cost you.
You will lose all the patronage of the court; all the world adopts the
new French fashions."
"That is true," said the sorrowful Pricker; he approached and pointed
through the window to the house opposite. "Once all those carriages
stood before my door; once I dressed all those noble people; a wink
would be sufficient to recall them. Would I be untrue to the customs of
my fathers, would I employ French workmen, all those carriages would be
arrayed before my door. I hold the destiny of that contemptible
Frenchman in my hands; a word from me, and he would be ruined; but I
will not speak that word. Let him live to the disgrace and shame of the
Germans who abandoned the time-honored customs of their fatherland."
The count offered his arm to his bride, and said, mockingly:
"I thank you for your address. I see that a German tailor may be a
consummate fool! Come, my dear Caroline, we will go to M. Pelissier."
Pricker remained alone; grand and proud he stood in the middle of the
saloon, and looked up, like a conquering hero, at the grim portraits of
his ancestors.
"Be satisfied with me," he murmured; "I have made a new sacrifice to
your names. My house is German, and German it shall remain."
At this moment there arose on the air the clear, full voice of his
daughter, who was practising with Quantz a favorite Italian air of the
king. "Nel tue giorni felice ricordati da me," sang the beautiful Anna,
while Father Pricker ran, like a madman, up and down the room, and
stopped his ears, that he might not hear the hateful sound. He cursed
himself for allowing the monster Quantz to come to the house.
"Alas! alas! I have closed my heart to the new era and its horrors, hut
I shall lose my children; they will not wish to wander in my ways."
At this moment Anna entered the room, with sparkling eyes and rosy
cheeks.
"Father," she said, hastily, "the supreme desire of my heart will now
be fulfilled. Quantz has at last promised that I shall sing at the next
court concert. In eight days the king returns, and a concert will be
arranged, at which I, your happy daughter, will sing an Italian song."
"Italian!"
"She will sing Italian," murmured Quantz, who was listening at the
door. "She will give all the world an opportunity to laugh and ridicule
her; and I shall be held responsible; I would rather die!"
Anna was greatly excited, and did not notice her teacher; and, as her
mother entered the room, she embraced her warmly.
"Mother, mother, Quantz has pronounced me worthy to sing at the court.
I shall cover myself with glory, and the daughter of the tailor will
fill all Germany with her fame!"
"Unhappy child, do you not know that your father is present?"
"Oh, my father shall be proud of me!" cried Anna.
Mother Pricker was frightened at the looks of her husband. Anna
scarcely noticed her parents; she said:
"Father, it is high time to think of my dress; it must be new and
elegant."
"You shall have it," said her father, solemnly; "it is an honor to sing
before the king. I will make you a magnificent dress out of your
mother's bridal robe."
Anna laughed contemptuously. "No, no, father; the time is past when we
dared to wear the clothes of our great-grandmothers. The day is gone by
for family relics. How the ladies of the court would laugh at my
mother's old flowered robe! Besides, the dress is too narrow for a
modern hoop robe, the only style now tolerated."
"A hoop robe!" cried the father, in tones of horror; "she wishes to
wear a hoop robe!"
"Yes, and why not?" said Anna. "Does not the beautiful Blanche wear
one? and have not all the court ladies adopted them? No fashionable
lady would dare now appear without a hoop robe."
"Who is Blanche?" cried M. Pricker, rising from his chair and looking
threateningly at Anna, "who is Blanche?"
"Do you not know, father? Oh, you are only pretending not to know!
Dearest Blanche, whom I love like a sister, and to whom I can only pay
stolen visits, for her father is furious that you have not returned his
visit, and has forbidden any of his family to enter our house."
"He did right; and I also forbid you to cross his threshold. I thought,
Anna, you had too much pride to enter the house of your father's enemy,
or speak to his daughter."
Anna shrugged her shoulders silently, and now quick steps were heard
approaching.
"Oh, quel pleusir d'etre amoreuse," sang a fresh, manly voice.
"French!" cried Father Pricker, wild with rage. "William singing
French!"
The door was hastily opened, and William, heir to the house of Pricker,
stood upon the sill. He was arrayed in a most charming costume. A
tight-fitting coat, short-waisted and long-tailed, wide sleeves, and
large mother-of-pearl buttons; the cuffs and high-standing collar were
richly embroidered in silver; his vest was "coleur de chair," and
instead of a long plait, William had covered his hair with a powdered
wig. A small three-cornered hat, worn jauntily to one side, was
embroidered with silver, and ornamented with a black feather; in his
hand he held a slight, graceful cane. William appeared before his
father a complete model of a new-fashioned French dandy; rage and
horror choked the old man's utterance.
"Well, father, do I please you? is not this attire worthy of a
nobleman? only I cannot wear the white feather, which they say belongs
exclusively to the nobility."
"Where did you get these clothes, William?" said his father,
approaching him slowly; "who gave you the money to pay for them? It is
a fool's costume! Who made it for you?"
"Well, you gave me the money, dear father," said William, laughing;
"that is, you will give it to me. This handsome suit has not yet been
paid for. The name of Pricker has a silvery sound; Pelissier knows
that, and credited me willingly; though at first he refused to work for
me, and I thank Blanche that I have a costume from the celebrated shop
of Pelissier."
Old Pricker uttered a cry of rage, and seizing, with feverish violence,
the long tails of his son's coat, he dragged him to and fro.
"So Pelissier made this! he has dared to array my son, the son and heir
of the house of Pricker, in this ridiculous manner! And you, William,
you were shameless enough to receive this suit from your father's
enemy. Alas! alas! are you not afraid that your ancestors will rise
from their graves to punish you?"
"Dear father," said William, "it is only a costume, and has nothing to
do with character or principle."
"Never will I allow my son to be lost to me in this manner," cried
Pricker; "and if in the blindness of his folly he has lost himself, I
will bring him back with violence, if necessary, to the right path.
Off, then, with this absurd coat! off with this fool's cap! off with
all this livery!"
Pricker now began to pull and tear madly at his son's clothes; he
knocked his hat off, and trampled it under his feet; he seized with
both hands the lace collar, and laughed when the shreds remained in his
hands. William was at first dumb with terror, but the loud laugh of his
sister, who found this scene amusing, restored his presence of mind;
with mad violence he pushed his father from him.
"Father," he cried, "I am no longer a boy! I will not bear this
treatment; I will dress as I like, and as the fashions demand."
"Well spoken, my brother," said Anna, laughingly, springing to his
side; "we are children of the new era, and will dress as it demands.
Why did our parents give us modern educations if they wished us to
conform to old-fashioned prejudice?"
"'Honour thy father and thy mother, that thy days may be long in the
land which the Lord thy God giveth thee,'" said Pricker, solemnly.
"Another Bible verse," said Anna, mockingly. "The book is no longer
fashionable; and it is not half so amusing as Voltaire."
"Enough, enough," said Pricker; "now listen to my last determination. I
command you to live and dress as your father and mother have dressed
before you! Woe to you if you despise my commands! woe to you if you
defy my authority! I will disown you--and my curse shall be your
inheritance; remember this. If you ever enter that house again, or
speak to any of its inhabitants--if I ever see you in this French
livery again, or if you, Anna, ever appear before me in a hoop robe and
toupe, from that moment you cease to be my children."
Father and mother left the room; the brother and sister remained alone.
"Well," said Anna, "do you intend to obey these commands? Will you wear
the queue and the narrow, coarse frock coat?"
"Nonsense," said William, "that Blanche may ridicule me, and all the
world may laugh at me. You do not know, Anna, how much Blanche and
myself love each other; we have vowed eternal love and faith, and she
is to be my wife!"
"You will then become an honorable tailor, as your fathers were."
William laughed. "I follow a trade! I who have received the education
of a nobleman! no, no, Anna, you are not in earnest; you cannot believe
that."
"Take care, William, you will be disinherited; father is in earnest."
"Oh, he will have to submit, as old Pelissier must do; he will also be
furious when he first learns that I am the husband of Blanche; he has
threatened her with his curse if she marries me. But in spite of all
this we intend to marry; they must at last be reconciled. Oh, Blanche
is beautiful as an angel!"
"Nevertheless she is a tailor's daughter," said Anna.
"Yes, like my beautiful and amiable sister Anna."
"But I shall become a celebrated singer, and the wife of a nobleman."