Berlin and Sans-Souci Part 25

The two monks stepped into the cloister, and a deep and unbroken silence reigned around, interrupted only by the sweet songs of the birds and the light movements of their wings. The building was in the n.o.ble style of the middle ages, and stood out in grand and harmonious proportions against the deep blue of the horizon.

It was, without doubt, to observe the beauty and grandeur of this structure, that two travellers who had toiled slowly up the path leading from the village of Camens, now paused and looked with wondering glances at the cloister.

"There must be a splendid view from the tower," said the oldest and smaller of the travellers to his tall and slender companion, who was gazing with rapture at the enchanting landscape.

"It must indeed be a glorious prospect," he replied with a respectful bow.

"It affords a splendid opportunity to look far and wide over the land, and to see if the Austrian troops are really on the march,"

said the other, with a stern and somewhat hasty tone. "Let us enter and ascend the tower."

The youth bowed silently, and followed, at some little distance, the hasty steps of his companion. They reached the platform, and stood for a moment to recover breath.

"We have reached the summit--if we were only safely down again."

"We can certainly descend; the question is, under what circ.u.mstances?"

"You mean, whether free or as prisoners? Well, I see no danger; we are completely disguised, and no one knows me here. The Abbot Amandus is dead, and the new abbot is unknown to me. Let us make haste; ring the bell."

The youth was in the act of obeying, when suddenly a voice cried out: "Don't sound the bell--I will come myself and open the door."

A man had been standing at the upper story, by an open window, and heard the conversation of the two travellers. He drew in his head hastily and disappeared.

"It seems I am not so unknown as I supposed," said the smaller of the two gentlemen, with a quiet smile.

"Who knows whether these monks are reliable and true?" whispered the other.

"You certainly would not doubt these exalted servants of G.o.d? I, for my part, shall believe in their sincerity till they convince me of the contrary. Ah! the door is opened."

The small door was indeed open, and a monk came out, and hastily drew near to the two travellers.

"I am the Abbot Tobias Stusche; I am also a man wholly devoted to the King of Prussia, though he does not know me."

The abbot laid such a peculiar expression upon these last words, that the strangers were forced to remark them.

"Do you not know the King of Prussia?" said the elder, fixing his eagle eye upon the kindly and friendly face of the abbot.

"I know the king when he does not wish to be incognito," said the abbot, with a smile.

"If the king were here, would you counsel him to remain incognito?"

"I would counsel that; some among my monks are Austrian in sympathy, and I hear the Austrians are at hand."

"My object is to look out from your tower after the Austrians. Let us enter; show us the way."

The abbot said nothing, but entered the cloister hastily, and cast a searching glance in every direction.

"They are all yet in the refectory, and the windows open upon the gardens. But no--there is Brother Anastasius."

It was truly Brother Anastasius, who stood at the window, and regarded them with astonished and sympathetic glances. The abbot nodded to him and laid his forefinger lightly upon his lips; he then hastily crossed the threshold of the little door.

The stranger laid his hand upon the shoulder of the abbot, and said sternly, "Did you not give a sign to this monk?"

"Yes, the sign of silence," answered the abbot; and turning back, he looked calmly upon the strangers.

"Let us go onward." And with a firm step they entered the cloister.

CHAPTER XI.

THE KING AND THE ABBOT.

Silently they pa.s.sed through the lofty halls and corridors, which resounded with the steps of the strangers, and reached the rooms appropriated to the abbot. As they entered and the door closed behind them, shutting them off from the seeing and listening world, the face of the abbot a.s.sumed an expression of the most profound reverence and emotion. He crossed his hands over his breast, and bowing profoundly, he said: "Will your majesty allow me from the depths of my soul to welcome you? In the rooms of the Abbot Tobias Stusche, King Frederick need not preserve his incognito. Blessed be your entrance into my house, and may your departure also be blessed!"

The king smiled. "This blessed conclusion, I suppose, depends entirely upon your excellency. I really cannot say what danger threatens us. It certainly was not my intention to wander here; to stretch out my reconnoissance to such a distance. But what would you, sir abbot? I am not only a king and soldier, but I am a man, with eye and heart open to the beauties of nature, and I worship G.o.d in His works of creation. Your cloister enticed me with its beauty.

In place of mounting my horse and riding back from Frankenstein, I was lured hither to admire your building and enjoy the splendid prospect from your tower. Allow me to rest awhile; give me a gla.s.s of wine, and then we will mount the tower."

There was so much of calm, bold courage, so much of proud self- consciousness in the bearing of the king, that the poor, anxious abbot could not find courage to express his apprehensions. He turned and looked imploringly at the companion of the king, who was no other than the young officer of the life-guard, Frederick von Trenck. The youth seemed to share fully the careless indifference of his royal master; his face was smiling, and he did not seem to understand the meaning looks of the abbot.

"Will your majesty allow me, and me alone, to have the honor of serving you?" said his excellency. "I am jealous of the great happiness which Providence has accorded me, and I will not divide it with another, not even with my monks."

Frederick laughed heartily. "Confess, your excellency, that you dare not trust your monks. You do not know that they are as good Prussians as I have happily found you to be? Go, then, if it is agreeable to you, and with your own pious hands bring me a gla.s.s of wine, I need not say good wine--you cloistered men understand that."

Frederick leaned back comfortably in his arm-chair and conversed cheerfully, even merrily, with his young adjutant and the worthy abbot, who hastened here and there, and drew from closets and hiding-places wine, fruit, and other rich viands. The cloistered stillness, the unbroken quiet which surrounded him, were pleasing to the king; his features were illuminated with that soft and at the same time imposing smile which played but seldom upon his lips, but which, like the sun, when it appeared, filled all hearts with light and gladness. Several hours pa.s.sed--hours which the king did not seem to observe, but the heart of the poor abbot was trembling with apprehension.

"And now," said the king, "I am rested, refreshed, and strengthened.

Will your excellency conduct me to the tower? then I will return to Frankenstein."

"There is happily a way to the tower for my use alone," said the abbot, "where we are certain to be met by no one. I demand pardon, sire, the way is dark and winding, and we must mount many small steps."

"Well, abbot, it resembles the way to eternal life; from the power of darkness to light; from the path of sin and folly to that of knowledge and true wisdom. I will seek after this knowledge from your tower, worthy abbot. Have you my field-gla.s.s, Trenck?"

The adjutant bowed, silently; they pa.s.sed through the corridor and mounted the steps, reaching at last the platform at the top of the tower.

A wondrous prospect burst upon their view; the horizon seemed bounded by majestic mountains of porphyry--this third element or place of deposit of the enchanting primeval earth, out of which mighty but formless ma.s.s our living, breathing, and beautiful world sprang into creation, and the stars sang together for joy. In the midst of these mountains stood the "Giant," with his snow-crowned point, like the great finger of G.o.d, reaching up into the heavens, and contrasting strangely with the lofty but round green summits of the range, now gilded by the morning sun, and sparkling in changing rays of light.

The king looked upon this picture with rapture; an expression of prayer and praise was written upon his face. But with the proud reserve which ever belongs to those who, by exalted rank or genius, are isolated from other men, with the shrinking of a great soul, the king would allow no one to witness his emotion. He wished to be alone, alone with Nature and Nature's G.o.d; he dismissed the abbot and his adjutant, and commanded them to wait in the rooms below for him. And now, convinced that no one saw or heard him, the king gave himself up wholly to the exalted and pious feelings which agitated his soul. With glistening eyes he gazed upon the enchanting landscape, which glowed and shimmered in the dazzling sunshine.

"G.o.d, G.o.d!" said he, in low tones; "who can doubt that He is, and that He is from everlasting to everlasting? Who, that looks upon the beauty, the harmony, and order of creation, can doubt of His wisdom, and that His goodness is over all His works? [Footnote: The king's own words. "OEuvres posthumes," page 162.] O my G.o.d, I worship you in your works of creation and providence, and I bow my head in adoration at the footstool of your divine Majesty. Why cannot men be content with this great, mysterious, exalted, and ever-enduring church, with which G.o.d has surrounded them? Why can they not worship in Nature's great cathedral? Why do they confine themselves to churches of brick and mortar, the work of men's hands, and listen to their hypocritical priests, rather than listen to and worship G.o.d in His beautiful world? They cry out against me and call me an infidel, but my heart is full of love and faith in my Creator, and I worship Him, not in priestly words, but in the depths of my soul."

And now Frederick cast a smiling greeting to the lovely phenomena which lay at his feet. His thoughts had been with G.o.d, and his glance upward; but now his eyes wandered over the perfumed and blooming valley which lay in the depths between the mountains; he numbered the little cities and villages, with their red roofs and graceful church-spires; he admired the straw-thatched huts upon whose highest points the stork had built her nest, and stood by it in observant and majestic composure.

"This is all mine; I won it with my spear and bow. It is mine, and I will never yield it up. I will prove to Maria Theresa that what was good to take was not good to restore. No, no! Silesia is mine; my honor, my pride, and my fame demand it. I will never give it up. I will defend it with rivers of blood, yes, with my own heart's blood!"

He took his gla.s.s and looked again over the luxurious valley; he started and fixed his gla.s.s steadily upon one point. In the midst of the smiling meadows through which the highway wound like a graceful stream, he saw a curious, glittering, moving ma.s.s. At the first glance it looked like a crowd of creeping ants; it soon, however, a.s.sumed larger proportions, and, at last, approaching ever nearer, the forms of men could be distinctly seen, and now he recognized a column of marching soldiers.

"Austrians," said the king, with calm composure. He turned his gla.s.s in the other direction, where a road led into the valley; this path was also filled with soldiers, who, by rapid marches, were approaching the cloister. "Without doubt they know that I am here,"