Though rather early in the morning, the well-known esplanade along
the beautiful Traunsee at Gmunden, surrounded by green-decked Saline
Mountains, was already thronged to overflowing with eager-looking
sightseers, watching excitedly the completion of the grandstands which
were now being erected for the great event of the day.
Special trains arrived hourly from Ischel, Aussee, Hallstadt, and other
mountain resorts of prominence, and the excitement seemed to increase
each moment more and more.
Humdrum life was thrown aside by young and old; everyone looked on
expectantly, reviewing the grandstands, the tourists, and everything
new around them.
Fair-browed girls robed in spotless white muslin, garlanded with
flowers and bright with rosy badges in honor of the occasion, were seen
here and there, while their eyes sparkled and their lips drank from the
cup of happiness, enjoying life and the blessing of being young.
The constantly increasing throng of summer visitors and tourists from
all parts of the globe, speaking different languages and wearing
outlandish clothes, made up a bewildering picture, while the July sun
beamed down upon them, and over lake and green-decked mountain-tops.
The much talked of floral regatta of 1910 was not to take place until
five, but by one o'clock the grandstands near the water, hardly
completed, began to fill rapidly with the elite of Viennese society.
These floral festivals, which had been so popular in previous years,
were to be surpassed in artistic splendor and brilliant originality by
today's display of picturesque effects, and symbolism of national life.
Members of the highest nobility had consented to take leading parts in
the regatta, which was under the protectorate of the Archduke Victor.
Many celebrities of the musical world, living there in their beautiful
cottages, were seen quietly taking their seats. The great bare mountain
"Traunstein" seemed to smile down on them from his aerial height in
friendly approval; they were no strangers to him, these music giants,
but rather belonged to his enthusiastic admirers.
Every spring they came to him, seeking relaxation for their
over-strained nerves, and every fall, when his bald head began to be
covered with a cap of snow, they went home full of elasticity and
creative power, often bringing along conceptions of masterpieces which
were later to fill the entire musical world with admiration. No wonder
then, that the bald-headed old fellow up there so high above his
neighbors looked down so proudly upon them.
Loud blasts of trumpets in the distance announced to the patiently
awaiting throng the approach of a long line of richly decorated boats.
Archduke Victor, leading the procession, sat in the stern of his boat,
which was gorgeously arrayed to represent a bower of field roses. He
opened the festival by throwing red carnations into the water as far
as his hand could reach. Next came the customary exchange of greetings
among the Austrian nobility, whose elaborately decorated boats were
stationed on both sides of the lake. At their approach, the orchestra
on the esplanade burst forth with the National anthem of Austria, and
the spectators applauded frantically.
Right and left, as far as the eye could see, the shimmering surface of
the lake, with its little, gently splashing wavelets, was covered with
brightly colored crafts, every one an unique marvel of its kind.
There came splashing along a huge Easter egg, made up of lilies of the
valley; here a pagoda of large sunflowers called forth the admiration
of the delighted sightseers.
From the opposite shore there came floating a half opened Nautilus, out
of which a green-clad naiad cast coquettishly her golden net, trying to
catch some inexperienced young fish in her golden meshes. Nearby sailed
a sleeping beauty (though rather wide awake) embowered enchantingly
in clusters of American Beauties, looking in all directions for her
enchanted Prince to appear and make ardent love to her.
Suddenly there came, as if by magic, a gondola from the other side
of the lake; it was gorgeously decorated, shining brightly in the
brilliant afternoon sun. This floating work of art was made of lotus
flowers, over which a canopy of glittering, diaphanous material was
hanging, presumably as a suitable background for a lady now the
cynosure of all eyes. She was of such entrancing beauty that all who
beheld her sat spellbound and actually forgot to applaud, according to
the customary greeting to newcomers, scarcely knowing which to admire
first; the magnificent craft, so artistically constructed, or the
dazzling apparition within.
Amazed and speechless, the distinguished gathering gazed at her. "Who
is she?" they whispered to each other. Her name was not on the list
of nobilities. Nobody knew anything about her, but she was gorgeously
dressed, her costume representing that of Cleopatra, made up of pale
green crepe de chine, covered with little amorettes of silver pearls,
which hung loosely in artistic folds about the luxurious outlines of
her bewitching form. Long flaxen hair, artistically arranged, set off
with diamond sparks, fell about her, and shone like molten gold in the
setting sun. It was supposed to be a real reproduction, according to
ancient pictures, of the flirtatious Queen of Egypt, seen in the art
galleries of Florence, Genoa and Rome. Her large black eyes held a
singular fascination in their sparkling depths, which if once looked
into, fastened themselves upon the imagination of man to be forgotten
no more.
At the sight of all these splendors amid such exclusive surroundings,
she looked with a frightened stare into space, as if she were a
newcomer, a stranger in this atmosphere of wealth and distinction. Her
features were rigid and white, and she seemed fascinated, dumb with
admiration at the sight of the splendid surroundings. For this reason,
she had failed to notice the sensation her beauty had aroused among the
masculine sightseers.
A slender man, with deep set eyes, and thin and bloodless lips tightly
pressed together, sat in an unpretentious little boat a short distance
away, murmuring grimly unintelligible words to himself. She caught
sight of him and sent him a friendly glance and a smile similar to the
greeting of well-known friends. He did not lose sight of her for a
moment, but almost devoured her with his eyes.
With feverish eagerness he followed her every movement, knitting his
brows threateningly when any boat of the Viennese "Jeunesse doree" came
with admiring curiosity too near to her's. In his jealous rage he felt
like driving all of them from the spot.
He began to reproach himself for having yielded to her cajoling
entreaty to be allowed to take part in the festivity.
"Miserable fops," he murmured contemptuously, as he contemplated the
admiring men with a scornful sneer. "I loathe the sight of all these
nobodies," he grumblingly soliloquized.
Many of them, in fact, had nothing to boast about. Many of these
so-called nobles in addition to a noble name, combined magnificent
poverty and an abhorrence for honest work; they acquired a heap
of debts and their inherited estates were often in the hands of
unscrupulous usurers, or mortgaged to the last cent, while the sneering
one had money in such abundance that he could have purchased patents of
nobility for an entire regiment, and still have a reserve revenue from
his unfathomable gold mine in South Africa. His finances would have
allowed him the luxury of such a woman--although it must be whispered
he had a wife in England, divorced some people asserted.