Berlin and Sans-Souci Part 34

"I give you my word of honor; more than that, I promise you to defend you, if any one shall accuse you to the king."

Jaschinsky did not reply; he stepped to his desk and took out two rolls of ducats. "Baron," said he, "here is half of the money I borrowed from Trenck; before I hand it to you I have one request to make."

"Well, speak."

"How did you learn that I borrowed this money?"

"I saw your note which you gave to Trenck."

"Ah! he showed it to you," cried Jaschinsky, with such an expression of hate, scorn, and revenge, that even Pollnitz was moved by it.

He took the gold and let it slide slowly into his pocket. "I owe you a hundred ducats; I cannot promise you to return them; but I can promise you that Trenck will never produce your draft, and I will show you how to revenge yourself upon the handsome officer."

"If you a.s.sist me in that, I will present you with my best horse."

"You shall be revenged," said Pollnitz, solemnly. "You can send the horse to my stable; Frederick von Trenck will soon cease to be dangerous to any one; he is a lost man!--And now to the king," said Pollnitz, as he left the colonel's quarters. "Yes, to the king; I must thank him for the confidence he showed me last night."

The king was making his preparations for war with the most profound secrecy; he worked only at night, and gave up his entire time seemingly to pleasures and amus.e.m.e.nts. He was daily occupied with concerts, b.a.l.l.s, operas, and ballets; he had just returned from seeing the rehearsal of a new opera, in which Barbarina danced; he was gay and gracious.

He received his master of ceremonies jestingly, and asked him if he came to announce that he had become a Jew. "You have tried every other religion at least twice; I know that you have had of late much to do with the 'chosen people;' I suppose you are now full of religious zeal, and wish to turn Israelite. It would, perhaps, be a wise operation. The Jews have plenty of gold, and they would surely aid with all their strength their new and distinguished brother.

Speak, then, make known your purpose."

"I come to thank your majesty for the supper you graciously accorded me last night."

"A supper! what do you mean?"

"Your majesty, through your private secretary, invited me to table, with all your splendid silver-ware. Truly the meal was indigestible and lies like a stone upon my stomach; but, I say with the good soldiers, after the lash, 'I thank your majesty for gracious punishment.'"

"You are an intolerable fool; but mark me, no word of what you have seen. I wished to prove to you that I had no money, and to be freed from your everlasting complaints and pet.i.tions. I have therefore allowed you to see that my silver has gone to the mint. It is to be hoped that you will now compose yourself, and seek no more gold from me. Do not ask gold of kings, but of Jews! Kings are poor, the poorest people of the state, for they have no personal property."

[Footnote: The king's own words.]

"Oh, that the whole world could hear the exalted and high-hearted words of my king!" cried Pollnitz, with well-acted enthusiasm.

"Thrice blessed is that nation which has such a ruler!"

The king looked at him searchingly. "You flatter me; you want something, of course."

"No, sire, I swear I come with the purest intentions."

"Intentions? You have, then, intentions?"

"Yes, sire, but now that I stand here face to face with you, I feel that my courage fails, and I cannot speak what I intended."

"Now truly," said the king, laughing, "the circ.u.mstances must indeed be dangerous which deprive Baron Pollnitz of the power of speech."

"Words, your majesty, are important things. Once a few words saved me from death; it may be that a few words, spoken this day to your majesty, may bring me into disfavor, and that would be worse than death."

"What were the words which saved you from death?"

"These, sire: 'Va-t-en, n.o.ble guerrier!'"

"This took place in France?"

"In Paris, sire. I was dining in a small hotel in the village of Etampes, near Paris. A very elegant cavalier sat next me and from time to time, as if accidentally, addressed me in a refined and winning way; he informed himself as to my intentions and circ.u.mstances. I was an inexperienced youth, and the cavalier was adroit in questioning. This was at the time of the Mississippi speculation of the great financier Law. I had gained that day, in the Rue Quinquempois, the sum of four hundred thousand francs. I had this money with me, and after dinner I proposed to go to Versailles.

I was not without apprehension, the streets were unsafe, and Cartouche with his whole band of robbers had for some time taken possession of the environs of Paris, and made them the theatre of his daring deeds."

"So you received your new friend trustingly?" said the king, laughing heartily.

"Yes, sire, and we had just agreed as to the hour of our departure, when a little maiden appeared under the window of our dining-room and sang in a loud, clear voice, 'Va-t-en, n.o.ble guerrier!' The strange cavalier rose and stepped to the window to give her a few sous, then went out--and I saw him no more."

"And you conclude from this that the words of the song saved your life? you think that the man with whom you were eating was a poisoner?"

"I thought nothing, sire, and forgot the adventure. A year after, I was standing in the street as Cartouche was being led to execution.

All Paris was abroad to see the famous brigand. I had a good place, the procession pa.s.sed immediately by me, and look you, I recognized in the poor sinner now being led to execution, the elegant gentleman of the cabaret at Etampes! He knew me also and stood still for a moment. 'Sir,' said he, 'I dined with you a year ago. The words of an old song gave me notice to leave the cabaret immediately. They announced to me that the pursuers were on my heels; your star was in the ascendant, stranger; had I accompanied you to Versailles, you would have lost your gold and your life.' Your majesty will now understand that these words, 'Va-t-en, n.o.ble guerrier,' saved my life."

"I confess it, and I am now most curious to hear the words which you fear will bring my displeasure upon you."

"Sire, I have been for more than forty years a faithful servant of your exalted house. Will you not admit this?"

"Faithful?" repeated Frederick; "you were faithful to us when it was to your advantage: you deserted us when you thought it to your interest to do so. I reproached you with this in former times, but now that I know the world better, I forgive you. Go on, then, with your pathetic appeal."

"Your majesty has often commanded me to make known to you every thing which the good people say of your royal family, and when any one dared to whisper a slander against you or yours, to inform you of it at once."

"Does any one dare to do that?" said the king, with an expression of anguish upon his n.o.ble face.

"Yes, sire."

The king breathed a heavy sigh, and walked hastily up and down; then placing himself before the window, and turning his back on Pollnitz, he said, "Go on."

"Sire, it is lightly whispered that the young Lieutenant Trenck has dared to love a lady who is so far above him in her bright radiance and royal birth, that he should not dare to lift his eyes to her face except in holy reverence."

"I have been told that he was the lover of Mademoiselle von Marwitz," said the king.

"The world and the good Berliners believe that, but the initiated know that this pretended love is only a veil thrown by the bold youth over a highly traitorous pa.s.sion."

Pollnitz was silent; he waited for the king to speak, and watched him with a malicious smile. Frederick still stood with his face to the window, and saw nothing of this.

"Shall I go on?" said Pollnitz at last.

"I command you to do so," said the king.

Pollnitz drew nearer. "Sire," said he, half aloud, "allow me to say what no one knows but myself. Baron Trenck visits Mademoiselle von Marwitz every day, but a third person is ever present at these interviews."

"And this third person is--"

"The Princess Amelia!"

The king turned hastily, and the glance which he fixed upon Pollnitz was so flashing, so threatening, that even the bold and insolent master of ceremonies trembled. "Are you convinced of the truth of what you have stated?" said he harshly.

"Sire," said he, "if you wish to convince yourself, it is only necessary to go this evening between five and six o'clock, unannounced, into the rooms of the Princess Amelia. You will then see that I have spoken truth."