HUSBAND AND WIFE.
Wilhelmine was now interrupted in her animated conversation with her
reflection by the abrupt entrance of her "self-styled husband," the
Chamberlain Rietz.
She saw him in the mirror, and she saw, too, how the friend with
whom she had been conversing, colored with displeasure and frowned.
Without rising, or even turning her head, she allowed the chamberlain
to approach until he stood in front of her, and then she cried, in an
imperious voice: "Where were my servants? Why do you come unannounced
to my presence?"
Rietz, the king's chamberlain and factotum, laughed loudly. "For fear
of being turned away, ma belle, and because I considered it more
appropriate to come unannounced to my wife's presence. Once for all,
my dearest, spare me this nonsense, and do not embitter our lives
unnecessarily! Let your courtiers, your dukes, princes, counts, and
professors, wait in the antechamber, and come announced, if you will,
but you must receive me as you receive the king, that is, unannounced.
On the other hand, I promise you, never to make use of this privilege
when you are entertaining company, or are engaged in some agreeable
little _tête-à-tête_. Are you satisfied? Is this agreed upon?"
"It shall be as you say," said Wilhelmine, pointing to a stool that
stood near the sofa. "Seat yourself and let me know why you honor me
with your presence."
But Rietz, instead of seating himself on the stool, proceeded with the
greatest composure to roll forward a splendid arm-chair, on the back of
which a royal coronet was emblazoned.
"I suppose I am entitled to use this chair when the king is not
present," said he, seating himself; "moreover, I like to sit
comfortably. Now, I am installed, and the conference between the
two crowned heads can begin. Do you know, or have you the slightest
conception of, what the subject of this conference will be?"
"No," replied Wilhelmine, placing her little foot with its
gold-embroidered satin slipper on the stool, and regarding it
complacently, "no, not the slightest, but I beg you to tell me quickly,
as I am expecting company."
"Ah, expecting company! Then I will begin our conference, Carissima, by
telling you to order your servant to inform your visitors that you have
been suddenly taken ill and beg to be excused."
"Before giving this command I must first request you to give me your
reasons."
"My reasons? Well, I will give you one reason instead of many. It might
not be agreeable to your guests to have the glass from the window-panes
and the stones which have shattered them flying about their heads in
your parlor."
"My friend," said Wilhelmine, still regarding the tips of her feet,
"if you feel an irresistible inclination to jest, you will find an
appreciative audience among the lackeys in my antechamber."
"Thank you, I prefer to converse seriously with my wife in the parlor.
But if you desire it I will ring for one of these impudent rascals,
and order him, in your name, to admit no visitors. Moreover, it would
be well to have the inner shutters of all the windows of your palace
closed. The latter must, of course, be sacrificed, but the shutters
will, at least, prevent the stones from entering your apartments and
doing any further damage. Are your windows provided with shutters?"
"I see you are determined to continue this farce," said Wilhelmine,
shrugging her shoulders. "Without doubt you have wagered with some one
that you could alarm me, and the closing of the shutters is to be the
evidence that you have won the wager. Such is the case, is it not?"
"No, Carissima, such is not the case, and I beg you to play the rôle
of the undaunted heroine no longer; it becomes you very well, but you
cannot excite my admiration and--"
"Nor have I any such intention," said she, leaning back on the sofa,
and stretching herself like a tigress that appears to be quite
exhausted, but is, nevertheless, ever ready to spring upon the enemy.
"Enough of this, my friend!" cried the chamberlain, impatiently.
"Listen! If you consider it a bagatelle to have your palace demolished,
and yourself accused of being a poisoner, it is, of course, all the
same to me, and I have nothing more to say, except that I was a fool
to consider it my duty to warn you, because we had formed an alliance,
offensive and defensive, and because I could not look on calmly while
your enemies were plotting your destruction."
The tigress had bounded from her lair, her eyes glowing with great
excitement.
"You are in earnest, Rietz? This is not one of your jokes? My enemies
are plotting my destruction! They are about to attack me! Speak, be
quick! What was it you said about poisoning? Do they accuse me of being
a poisoner?"
"Certainly they do, and I am glad that this magical word has recalled
my sleeping beauty to life. Yes, your enemies accuse you of being a
poisoner. It is truly fortunate that I have spies in every quarter, who
bring me early intelligence of these little matters."
"And whom have I poisoned?"
"Countess Ingenheim, of course. Whom should you have poisoned but your
rival?"
"My rival!" repeated Wilhelmine, with a contemptuous shrug of her
shoulders. "Countess Ingenheim was ill. Is she worse?"
"Countess Ingenheim is dying!"
"Dying!" echoed Wilhelmine, and a ray of joy gleamed in the eyes
of the tigress, but she quickly repressed it. "This is, of course,
an exaggeration of the physicians, who will afterward attribute to
themselves the merit of having effected her recovery from so hopeless
a condition. I have heard of instances of this kind before. Four days
ago the countess was comparatively well; I met her in the king's little
box at the theatre, on which occasion her affability and condescension
were truly surprising."
"Yes, and it is alleged by your enemies that you committed the crime on
that very occasion. The countess complained of heat and thirst, did she
not?"
"Yes, she did, and when she sank back in her chair, almost insensible,
the king begged me to assist her."
"To which you replied that a composing powder was what she required,
and that you, fortunately, always carried a box of these powders in
your pocket. Hereupon you opened the door, and ordered one of the
lackeys who stood in the entry to bring you a glass of water and some
sugar. When he brought it, you took a small box from your pocket, and
emptied a little paper of white powder into the water; when this foamed
up, you handed the glass to the countess, who immediately drank its
contents. Am I accurate?"
"You are, and I admire this accuracy all the more, because no one was
present in the box but us three."
"You forget the lackey who brought the water, and saw you pour the
powder into the glass. This morning the countess was suddenly attacked
with a violent hemorrhage; whereupon the lackey immediately told her
brother, Minister von Voss, the whole story. Her high connections and
the entire court have been aroused, and if the countess should die
to-day, as her physicians say she will, a storm will arise out of this
glass of water, with the aid of which your enemies hope to hurl you
from your eminence and consign you to prison."
"Foolish people!" said Wilhelmine, contemptuously. "The king will not
only discredit their revelations, but will also hold them to a strict
account for their slander. Let this be my care."
"My dearest, before proceeding to punish these slanderers, I would
advise you to consider your own safety a little. I tell you this matter
is graver than you suppose, my proud, undaunted lady. The whole pack is
let loose, and Bischofswerder and Wöllner are lashing the conspirators
on, and heaping fuel on the flames. They immediately convoked a meeting
of the holy brotherhood, and issued a secret order. This order I have
seen. You must know that I was received into this holy band some two
weeks since, as serving brother of the outer temple halls. What do you
think of the title, 'serving brother of the outer temple halls?'"
And the chamberlain burst into so loud and mocking a peal of laughter,
that his colossal stature fairly trembled.
"Suppress your merriment for a moment, if you please, and tell me how
this secret order of the Rosicrucians reads."
The chamberlain's countenance quickly assumed an air of gravity. "The
order is as follows: 'All the brothers serving in the outer temple
halls will repair, at ten o'clock this evening, to your palace, for
the purpose of engaging in the charming recreation of battering your
windows with the stones that lie piled up in great plenty in this
vicinity, in places where the pavement is being renewed; while so
occupied, they are to cry--'Murderess! poisoner! Curses upon her! Down
with this murderess!' A charming chorus, my angel of innocence!"
"Yes, a chorus over which the angels in heaven will rejoice, even if
they should not be such angels of innocence as I am in this affair. I
thank you for this communication; it is really of great importance."
"I must, however, beg you, my dear madame, to take this fact into
consideration. By making this communication, I not only imperil my
salvation, but am probably already wholly lost, and have certainly
forfeited all prospects of ever entering the sanctuary of the temple,
and becoming an Invisible Brother. Each brother is required, on his
admission, to register a fearful oath, to the effect that he will
never, although his own life or that of his parents or children should
be at stake, betray the secrets of the holy fathers; and I, frail
mortal, have betrayed the confidence of my superiors! Alas, alas! I am
a lost soul! The Invisible Fathers will expel me from the brotherhood
if they should ever hear of this."
"Give yourself no disquiet, I will never betray you," said Wilhelmine,
laughing. "I am only surprised that you should ever have been admitted
into the brotherhood, and that such an order should have been issued in
your presence."
"My fairest, they are not aware that the Mr. Müller of Oranienburg, who
was received into the holy order by the general assembly some two weeks
since, is no other than the veritable Chamberlain Rietz. You must know
that it is impossible to recognize each other in these assemblies, as
they are held in a mystical gloom, and that the brothers are known to
each other when they meet in the world by certain words, signs, and
pressures of the hand, only. My dear, twenty of these Rosicrucians
might meet at a party, without dreaming that they were so closely
connected. The names of all the brothers are known only to the circle
directors, and I was of course not such a fool as to write my real name
on the slip of paper which I deposited in the urn after having paid the
admission-fee of four Fredericks d'or, and received in return the holy
symbol of initiation in the solemn twilight of the outer temple halls.
The exalted fathers, Bischofswerder and Wöllner, would be astonished,
and any thing but delighted, to learn that I was present at the meeting
of to-day, and was one of the favored individuals who heard the order
given concerning the demolition of your palace."
"By all that I hold dear, these traitors shall pay dearly for this
malice!" exclaimed Wilhelmine, frowning angrily. "This conflict must
be brought to a conclusion. I am weary of this necessity of being
constantly on the alert to guard against the stratagems and attacks
of my enemies. I will have peace, and either _they_ or _I_ must be
conquered."
"If I might be permitted to give the goddess Minerva my advice, I would
say: 'Make peace with _these_ enemies, and secure the support and
assistance of the dear Rosicrucians against your other enemies, the
aristocrats and court conspirators.' Believe me, I give you this advice
in all honesty and sincerity, and why should I not? Are we not allies,
and have we not sworn to assist each other at all times and everywhere?
In _this_ respect my charming wife has been a most excellent companion;
she has kept her promises faithfully. Thanks to her assistance, I
have attained all I desired, and there are few men who can say this
of themselves. I desired influence, power, and money, and I have them
all. By the king's favor I have achieved influence and power, and have
amassed wealth by the folly of the persons sent me by you, my dearest,
with their petitions for patents of nobility and decorations. In the
three years of our reign I have created at least two hundred noblemen,
and of this number twenty counts in the first year alone."
"Yes, indeed, these counts are well known," said Wilhelmine, laughing;
"the gentlemen of the old nobility call them by no other name than 'the
batch of 1786.'"[53]
"Moreover, the number of crosses of St. John, and orders of the Eagle,
conferred by me upon deserving individuals, is legion, and goodly sums
of money have they brought into my coffers!" said Rietz, laughing.
"I desired a well-provided table, at which I could entertain a few
gentlemen of rank and convivial spirits; and now gentlemen of this
stamp are only too anxious to obtain invitations to my dinners, and
to enjoy the delicious pasties for which my French cook is so justly
celebrated. I lead a life of enjoyment, and, as I am in a great measure
indebted to your recommendation and patronage for this enjoyment, it is
but natural that I should be grateful, and should endeavor to serve you
to the best of my ability."
"I thank you, _cher ami_," said Wilhelmine, in kindly tones. "You,
too, have always been a good and efficient friend, and it was partly
through _your_ influence that my debts were paid, my income doubled,
and myself made the mistress of this beautiful palace. I still desire a
great many things, however. Yon are aware that I am so unfortunate as
to be ambitious, and--"
"And, in your ear, the name Madame Rietz is not exactly the music of
the spheres."
"Not exactly, my dear friend, although I must admit that the name is
rather musical. But I--"
The door of the antechamber was hastily opened, and a lackey appeared
on the threshold, holding in his hand a silver waiter on which a folded
note lay.
"This note has just been left here for Chamberlain Rietz," said the
lackey.
Rietz took the note and opened it. "Madame," said he, after the door
had closed behind the servant, "madame, my worst fears are realized.
Countess Ingenheim is dead!"
"Dead!" repeated Wilhelmine, shuddering. "Poor woman, she has paid
dearly for her short-lived triumph, and those who assert that the poor
person was poisoned, are probably right; the shame attendant upon her
position, her pangs of conscience and her remorse--these were the drops
of poison which she daily imbibed, and of which she has now died.
Truly, to be the beloved of a king requires a firm heart and very
strong nerves. Poor woman, I pity her!"
"Truly, you are worthy of the greatest admiration," said Rietz. "You
lament the sad fate of your rival, while you yourself are in the
greatest danger on her account. You must now decide whether you will
receive your company or not."
"Oh, my friend," sighed Wilhelmine, "how can you suppose me capable of
indulging in the delights of social intercourse at a time when I have
suffered so sad a loss? No, the king's grief is my grief also, and
instead of being merry and laughing with others, I will weep with the
royal widower."
"You are an incomparable woman," cried Rietz, with a loud peal of
laughter; "as wise, as beautiful, as much the demon as the angel! No
wonder you are fearless! Your power rests on an adamantine foundation."
Wilhelmine made no response, but rang the bell, and told the servant
who answered her call, to inform the porter that no soirée would take
place that evening, and that he was to tell all visitors that mourning
for the sudden death of Countess Ingenheim would compel her to forego
the pleasure of seeing them for that evening and the following week.
"I beg you to leave me now, my friend," said Wilhelmine, beginning to
divest herself of the sparkling jewels that encircled her neck and
arms. "I must hasten to lay aside these worldly garments, in order that
the king may find me attired in sable robes when he arrives."
"How! Do you believe the king will visit you at a time when his wife of
the left hand has but just breathed her last?"
"I feel assured that he will. His majesty knows how deep an interest I
take in all that concerns him. He knows where to look for sympathy; he
knows that I laugh with him when he is glad, and weep with him when he
is sad. To whom should he flee in his hour of grief but to me?"
"You are right," said Rietz, smiling, "to whom should he flee, in
his hour of grief, but to his first sultana? I am going, and I truly
promise you that if his majesty, in the depth of his grief, should
chance to be forgetful of this haven of rest, I will suggest it to our
dear, chastened king."
"Do so, my friend, and hasten to his majesty's side, or my enemies will
forestall you, and perhaps console the king in a different manner."
"I am going, sultana. But these shutters--shall I order them to be
closed?"
"And why, pray? I am not afraid of a few stones, and if they should
be showered upon us too plentifully, we can retire to one of the back
rooms and observe the bombardment in perfect security. When did you say
it was to begin?"
"As soon as it has grown dark; the deeds of these pious fathers shun
the light of day. The calendar says moonlight until ten o'clock; it is
therefore probable that the sovereign people, as the rabble of Paris
now calls itself, will not honor you with a call until that hour.
It would be well to notify the police of the flattering attentions
awaiting you, and to solicit a guard for the protection of your palace."
"I will take good care not to do so," rejoined Wilhelmine, smiling.
"Let the sovereign people amuse themselves by breaking my windows if
they choose. The louder they howl and call me poisoner the better, for
the king will hear them and he will pity me."
"Wilhelmine," cried Rietz with enthusiasm, "it is a pity you are
already my wife; if you were not I should certainly address you. I
could love you to distraction!"
"Do not, my friend, I pray you," said Wilhelmine; "you would cut but
a sorry figure in the rôle of a disconsolate lover. But now go; it is
already eight o'clock, and I hear a great many carriages coming and
going."
The chamberlain pressed her beautiful hand to his lips, and then took
his departure. She regarded him with a contemptuous smile as he left
the room, and when the door had closed behind him, a clear and ringing
peal of laughter escaped her lips. "To think that this Caliban has
the honor of being called my husband," said she, "and that I am still
the wife of a valet! And why? Merely because I am not of noble birth,
like--like these sensitive puppets, whose shame is garnished over with
noble titles and robes of ermine, and who nevertheless succumb and
die under the burden of their self-acquired dignities. I can bear the
precious burden! I--will not die! No, not I!"