THE DISGUISE REMOVED.
At mid-day the emperor reentered the palace gates. This time he came
through the principal entrance, feeling quite secure in his disguise.
He proceeded at once to the hall of reception, wondering whether his
young protegee would present herself as he had requested her to do.
The sentries allowed him to pass, supposing him to be one of those about
to seek an audience with the emperor. Unsuspected he reached the hall.
Yes, there was his little accuser. She stood trembling and blushing in
one corner of the room, holding in her hand a paper. As she recognized
her unknown protector, she hastened to meet him, and timidly gave him
her hand.
"Oh, sir," said she, "you have been true to your word. I was so afraid
you would forget me, that I was several times on the point of leaving
this grand place. I feel lonely and ashamed; for you see that no one is
here but myself. Nobody trusts the emperor. And I, who am here, will
surely be repulsed; he never will be as kind as you have been to a poor
friendless girl. My mother has no hope; and if she has sent me to the
palace, it was that I might see you again, and once more pour forth my
gratitude for your kindness. If you would add another to the generous
gift you have already bestowed, tell me your name, that my mother and I
may beg God's blessing upon it, and then let me go, for I feel that my
visit here will be vain!"
"My dear child," said Joseph, laughing, "if all the emperor's opponents
were as headstrong as you, the poor man would have but little hope of
ever gaining the good-will of his subjects. But I intend to prove to you
that you are unjust. Give me your petition. I myself will present it for
you. Wait awhile, until I send a messenger who will conduct you to the
emperor. Follow him and fear nothing, for I shall be there, too, and
there I will tell you my name. Au revoir."
The young girl looked anxiously after him as he disappeared and once
more betook herself to the window. Gradually the room filled with a sad,
humble, and trembling crowd, such as often throngs the anterooms of
princes and nobles--a crowd which, with tearful eyes and sorrowing
hearts, so often returns home without succor and without hope.
But the people who were assembled in this hall of reception seemed more
sanguine than is usual with petitioners for imperial favor. They chatted
together of their various expectations; they spoke of the emperor's
benevolence; and all seemed to hope that they would be heard with
patience, and favorably answered. A door opened, and an officer entered.
He looked sharply around the room, and then went directly to the window,
where the young girl, with a beating heart, was listening to the praises
of that emperor whom in her soul she believed to be a tyrant.
"The emperor will he here presently," said the officer, in answer to a
storm of inquiries from every side. "But I have been ordered first to
conduct this young lady, the daughter of a deceased officer, to his
majesty's presence."
She followed him, silent and anxious. They went through suites of
splendid rooms, whose costly decorations struck the child of poverty
with new dismay. At last they stopped in a richly gilded saloon, covered
with a carpet of Gobelin, and hung with the same rich tapestry.
"Remain here," said the officer, "while I announce you to his majesty."
He disappeared behind the velvet portiere, and the frightened girl
remained with a crowd of richly-dressed nobles, whose embroidered
court-dresses and diamond crosses, almost blinded her with their
splendor.
Once more the portiere was drawn aside, and the officer beckoned the
girl to advance. She did so with trembling limbs and throbbing heart.
The hangings fell, and she was in the dread presence of the emperor. He
stood near a window with his back toward her--a tall, graceful man, in a
white uniform.
The poor girl felt as if she would cease to breathe, for this was the
decisive moment of her young life. The emperor could either consign her
to misery, or raise her to comfort, and wipe away the tears of her dear,
suffering mother.
He turned and looked at her with a benevolent smile. "Come hither, my
child," said he. "You would speak with the emperor. I am he."
The girl uttered a stifled cry, and falling on her knees, she hid her
death-like face in her hands. For she had recognized her unknown
protector. Yes, this noble man, who had proffered help and promised
protection, this was the emperor, and to his face she had called him
miser and tyrant!
She never for one moment thought whether he would punish her insolence;
she had but one feeling, that of unspeakable anguish for having wounded
a noble and generous heart. This alone caused her shame and grief.
The emperor approached, and looked with tenderness at the kneeling
maiden, through whose fingers her tears were flowing in streams.
"I have read your petition, and have found that you spoke the truth.
From this day your father's pay falls to your mother; and at her death
it shall revert to you. I beg you both to forgive the tardiness of this
act of justice; for neither the empress nor I had ever heard that your
father had any family. Once more forgive us for all that you have
endured since his death. And now, my child, rise from your knees; for
human beings should kneel before God alone. Dry your tears, and hasten
to your mother. Tell her that the emperor is not as heartless as he has
been pictured to her by his enemies."
"No, no," cried she, "I cannot rise until my sovereign has forgiven my
presumption and my calumnies."
"They are forgiven; for what could you know of me, you poor child, but
what you had been told? But now you know me yourself; and for the future
if you hear me traduced, you will defend me, will you not?" [Footnote:
Historical.] He reached out his hand, which she kissed and bedewed with
her tears.
The emperor raised her tenderly. "Be comforted; for if you cry so
bitterly my courtiers will think that I have been unkind to you. You
told me just now that you wished to know the name of your protector that
you might pray for him. Well, my child, pray for me--my name is Joseph."