_Elvira_. What has become of poor Sancho? He has not appeared in
town?
_Nuno_. Sancho has doubtless contrived to find shelter.
LOPE DE VEGA: _The Best Alcalde is the King_.
Count d’Ahlefeld, dragging behind him an ample robe of black satin lined
with ermine, his head and shoulders concealed by a large judicial wig,
his breast covered with stars and decorations, among which were the
collars of the Royal Orders of the Elephant and the Dannebrog, clad, in
a word, in the complete costume of the lord chancellor of Denmark and
Norway, paced with an anxious air up and down the apartment of Countess
d’Ahlefeld, who was alone with him at the moment.
“Come, it is nine o’clock; the court is about to open; it must not be
kept waiting, for sentence must be pronounced to-night, so that it may
be carried out by to-morrow morning at latest. The mayor assures me that
the hangman will be here before dawn. Elphega, did you order the boat to
take me to Munkholm?”
“My lord, it has been waiting for you at least half an hour,” replied
the countess, rising from her seat.
“And is my litter at the door?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Good! So you say, Elphega,” added the count, clapping his hand to his
head, “that there is a love-affair between Ordener Guldenlew and
Schumacker’s daughter?”
“A very serious one, I assure you,” replied the countess, with a smile
of anger and contempt.
“Who would ever have imagined it? And yet I tell you that I suspected
it.”
“And so did I,” said the countess. “This is a trick played upon us by
that confounded Levin.”
“Old scamp of a Mecklenburger!” muttered the chancellor; “never fear,
I’ll recommend you to Arensdorf. If I could only succeed in disgracing
him! Ah! see here, Elphega, I have an inspiration.”
“What is it?”
“You know that the persons whom we are to try at Munkholm Castle are six
in number,--Schumacker, whom I hope I shall have no further cause to
fear, to-morrow, at this hour; the colossal mountaineer, our false Hans
of Iceland, who has sworn to sustain his character to the end, in the
hope that Musdœmon, from whom he has already received large sums of
money, will help him to escape,--that Musdœmon really has the most
devilish ideas! The other four prisoners are the three rebel chiefs, and
a certain unknown character, who stumbled, no one knows how, into the
midst of the assembly at Apsyl-Corh, and whom Musdœmon’s precautions
have thrown into our hands. Musdœmon thinks that the fellow is a spy of
Levin de Knud. And indeed, when brought here a prisoner, his first words
were to ask for the general; and when he learned of the Mecklenburger’s
absence, he seemed dumfounded. Moreover, he has refused to answer any of
Musdœmon’s questions.”
“My dear lord,” interrupted the countess, “why have you not questioned
him yourself?”
“Really, Elphega, how could I, in the midst of all the business which
has overwhelmed me since my arrival? I trusted the affair to Musdœmon,
whom it interests as much as it does me. Besides, my dear, the fellow is
not of the slightest consequence in himself; he is merely some poor
vagabond. We can only turn him to account by representing him to be an
agent of Levin de Knud, and as he was captured in the rebel ranks, it
would go to prove a guilty connivance between Schumacker and the
Mecklenburger, which will suffice to bring about, if not the
arraignment, at least the disgrace, of that confounded Levin.”
The countess meditated for a moment. “You are right; my lord. But how
about this fatal passion of Baron Thorwick for Ethel Schumacker?”
The chancellor again rubbed his head. Then, shrugging his shoulders, he
said: “See here, Elphega; neither you nor I are young novices, and we
ought to understand men. When Schumacker has been condemned for high
treason for the second time; when he has undergone an infamous death on
the gallows; when his daughter, reduced to the lowest ranks of society,
is forever publicly disgraced by her father’s shame,--do you suppose,
Elphega, that Ordener Guldenlew will then recall for a single instant
this childish flirtation which you call passion, judging it by the
extravagant talk of a crazy girl, or that he will hesitate a single day
between the dishonored daughter of a wretched criminal and the
illustrious daughter of a great chancellor? We must judge others by
ourselves; where do you find that the human heart is so constituted?”
“I trust that you may be right. But I think you will not disapprove of
my request to the mayor that Schumacker’s daughter might be present at
her father’s trial, and might be placed in the same gallery with me. I
am curious to study the creature.”
“All that can throw light upon the affair is valuable,” said the
chancellor, calmly. “But tell me, does anybody know where Ordener is at
present?”
“No one knows; he is the worthy pupil of that old Levin, a knight-errant
like him. I believe that he is visiting Wardhus just now.”
“Well, well, our Ulrica will settle him. But come, I forget that the
court is waiting for me.”
The countess detained the chancellor. “One word more, my lord. I asked
you yesterday, but your mind was full of other things, and I could not
get an answer,--where is my Frederic?”
“Frederic!” said the count, with a melancholy expression, and hiding his
face with his hand.
“Yes, answer me; my Frederic? His regiment has returned to Throndhjem
without him. Swear to me that Frederic was not in that horrible affair
at Black Pillar Pass. Why do you change color at his name? I am in
mortal terror.”
The chancellor’s features resumed their wonted composure. “Make
yourself easy, Elphega. I swear that he was not at Black Pillar Pass.
Besides, the list of officers killed or wounded in that skirmish has
been published.”
“Yes,” said the countess, growing calmer, “you reassure me. Only two
officers were killed,--Captain Lory and that young Baron Randmer, who
played so many mad pranks with my poor Frederic at the Copenhagen balls.
Oh, I have read and re-read the list, I assure you. But tell me, my
lord, did my boy remain at Wahlstrom?”
“He did,” replied the count.
“Well, my friend,” said the mother, with a smile which she tried to
render affectionate, “I have but one favor to ask of you,--that is, to
recall Frederic as soon as may be from that frightful region.”
The chancellor broke from her suppliant arms, saying, “Madam, the court
waits. Farewell. What you ask does not depend on my will.” And he
quitted the room abruptly.
The countess was left in a sad and pensive mood. “It does not depend
upon his will!” said she; “and he has but to utter a word to restore my
son to my arms! I always thought that man was genuinely bad.”