For Sceptre and Crown Volume I Part 26

"This is scarcely a time to answer questions," she said, with a half scornful, half melancholy smile, "which I have already forgotten."

"But I have not forgotten them, and I must give an answer."

She made a movement of refusal. Without heeding it, he asked:--

"Do you believe my word when I give it you as a n.o.bleman?"

She raised her eyes to his face, and said, "Yes."

"I thank you for your trust in me, Countess Clara," he said. "I give you my word of honour I am free--free as the air and light, from every chain."

An expression of joyful surprise pa.s.sed over her face.

"I do not understand you," she said in a low voice.

"Yes, Countess Clara, you understand me," he cried vehemently, "though I have not told the whole truth. I am free from a fetter which was unworthy; but I seek a chain to bind me for ever to my happiness--a chain that I can wear without a blush."

She was extremely agitated. She looked at him for a moment before she again cast down her eyes, and in that look he thought he read an answer to his hopes, for, with a happy smile, he came a step nearer to her.

"I do not understand all this," she stammered; "explain to me."

"I cannot explain," he interrupted, "to a strange lady, only to her who gives me the right to consecrate my life to her, and to have no secret from her."

"Good Heavens! Herr von Stielow," she cried, still more embarra.s.sed, "I ask you seriously to explain."

"Then you give me the right to explain to you?"

"I did not say so," she cried, and rose.

She walked towards the door by which her mother had left the room. He hastened to her, and seized her hand.

"Give me an answer, Clara," he cried.

She stood still, with drooping head.

"Clara," he cried again, in a low, earnest tone, "you wear a rose on your breast. In olden days, ladies gave to the knight whose love and service they accepted for ever, a gift, to be a sacred talisman in battle, and to be with them in death. We, too, are on the eve of b.l.o.o.d.y days. Clara, will you give me that rose?"

"The rose is a symbol of purity and truth," she said gravely.

"It is the symbol, then, of her who dwells in my heart, and who will dwell there for ever," he cried, and added, in an imploring tone, "Clara, I am worthy of the rose!"

She fixed her eyes on his, and gazed at him for several moments. Then she raised her hand slowly, unfastened the rose from her dress, and held it towards him, blushing and trembling, as she cast down her eyes.

He walked pa.s.sionately towards her, seized the rose, and covered the hand that held it with kisses.

"Clara," he said, firmly and gravely, "this flower will fade, but the happiness you have given me will bloom in my heart as long as it continues to beat. Heaven, I thank thee!" he cried, "I have found my star!"

He drew her gently towards him.

Without speaking a word, she leant her beautiful head on his breast, and wept gently.

Countess Frankenstein entered. At the rustle of her dress, her daughter hastened to her, and threw herself into her arms. Herr von Stielow approached the old lady.

"Countess," he said, "I can only repeat to you what I said to your daughter in my great happiness. I have found my star. May it not light the heaven of my life for ever?"

The countess showed surprise, mixed with a certain amount of satisfaction.

"I leave the answer to my daughter," said she; "and will abide by her decision."

"And what do you say, Countess Clara?" he asked.

She held out her hand.

"Then may G.o.d bless you!" said the countess, as she gently put her daughter from her, and held out her hand in her turn to the young man, who kissed it respectfully.

"Now," cried the countess, "we must go. We shall see you to-morrow, Herr von Stielow. To-day you will only afford us your protection to Countess Wilezek's."

"Oh, mamma," cried Countess Clara, "can we not stay at home to-day?"

"No, my child," said her mother, "people would make remarks, and you know I like everything to be done in the correct manner. It is the foundation of all true and lasting happiness."

"Well, then," cried Herr von Stielow, "adieu until to-morrow; my newly-risen star will light up the night until the dawn!"

His betrothed gave him a smile. There was a half troubled, half roguish question in her look.

He raised the rose he held in his hand, pressed it to his lips, and hid it beneath his uniform upon his breast.

The countess rang. A servant brought the ladies' mantles. Herr von Stielow accompanied them in their carriage to the palace of Countess Wilezek, in Wallnerstra.s.se. After he had taken leave of them, he walked dreamily through the evening streets of the capital.

Clear merry voices rang through the open windows of the Cafe Daun. The numerous officers of every branch of the service congregated there rejoiced at the prospect of war, and many cheerful voices rang out into the night, destined soon to be mute for ever.

Von Stielow hesitated for a moment before the entrance of the Cafe Daun, but the noisy mirth of his comrades did not suit his present mood.

He walked on. He thought over all that had occurred, and rejoiced at the quarrel which had brought him freedom.

He pursued his way along the Graben, by the rothe Thurmstra.s.se, and, sunk in sweet dreams, he followed the banks of the Danube. He was near the Aspern bridge. A man in a dark cloak came up to him.

"G.o.d bless me! Herr von Stielow," he cried, accosting the young officer, "you were going along as if you had become a philosopher, and were seeking the stone of wisdom."

"Good evening, dear Knaak," replied the lieutenant, holding out his hand to the well-known and favourite comic actor of the Karl Theatre, "what brings you here? Is the theatre over already?"

"I do not act to-night," replied Knaak, "and I am just going to the Hotel de l'Europe, where all our people are to be. Come too, and laugh with us a little."

Herr von Stielow thought for a moment. He felt a repugnance to going home; he was too excited for serious conversation; how could he better pa.s.s the evening hours than with these cheerful people, who, in their merry thoughtlessness and happy natures, form an eternal world of youth in the midst of serious life.

He placed his arm within the actor's, and said:--

"Well, dear Knaak, I will come with you, to see if these warlike times affect the humour of the Karl Theatre."