For Sceptre and Crown Volume I Part 27

"My dear sir," replied Knaak, "all the Krupp cannons added to all the needle guns in the world, could not disturb us,--that is to say," he added, gravely, "if we were all together. I, for my own part, am often sad enough when alone: for I am a North German by birth, and all my early recollections lie north; but now I am in heart an Austrian, and the war which is before us makes me very wretched."

"It must be so with many of us," replied von Stielow; "my home, too, lies in the north. It is a melancholy war,--although, as a soldier, I cannot but rejoice that this sword, which has so long been dragged over the pavement, is at last to be used in earnest."

A slight sigh did not quite harmonize with this warlike zeal; perhaps he thought of the newly risen star of his life, and feared it soon might set in b.l.o.o.d.y clouds.

They had reached the large Hotel de l'Europe, which, with the Crown Prince Hotel, occupies the whole length of the Aspernga.s.se. They went into the s.p.a.cious restaurant through the large doorway, and having pa.s.sed through it, they came to a closed door, through which they heard cheerful voices and merry laughter.

Knaak opened the door, and with von Stielow entered a somewhat small square room, adorned with hunting pieces and pastoral scenes, where a motley company were a.s.sembled around a table on which stood a cold supper, already showing in some of the princ.i.p.al dishes large gaps, proving the a.s.saults that had been made upon it. On the table stood a large bowl filled with fragrant punch; and silver wine coolers filled with ice showed the white heads of champagne bottles peeping from them.

In the midst of the company sat the whimsical queen of the Karl Theatre, the spoilt and sometimes naughty favourite of the public, Josephine Gallmeyer.

Beside her sat her especial friend old Grois, the last remaining actor of the times of Nestroy--a strongly made man with coa.r.s.e features, with which he was however capable of rendering every shade of expression, and a voice full of comic modulation.

On the other side of the table sat alone and thoughtful the young actor Matras, with his handsome intelligent face, which can represent on the stage of to-day the true old Viennese fun; and near him, in earnest conversation, sat Mademoiselle Schwoder, a dark-eyed young singer, and Doctor Herzel, editor and critic, a man of middle height with a quick intelligent face.

The entrance of Knaak and von Stielow was hailed with joy by the Gallmeyer; she seized a champagne cork lying near her, threw it at them, and cried:

"Thank G.o.d for two sensible men. Come here, Knaak, sit by me; and you, Herr von Stielow, opposite, that I may look at your uniform,--I like it. I could not have borne these weary folks much longer. Matras sits there and says nothing, and the Schwoder and the Doctor are like a pair of folded gloves, and then there is old Grois,"--she shook the old actor roughly by the shoulder,--"he has given a moral lecture. You can think how amusing that was."

She seized a bottle of champagne and poured out a large gla.s.s of the pearling fluid for Knaak who sat beside her.

"There, drink it," she cried merrily, "and may it make you witty."

"My life!" she exclaimed, as she looked at von Stielow, who, following her directions, had seated himself opposite; "My life! Herr von Stielow, how handsome you are to-day; whatever has happened to you; you look really splendid!"

"Take care, Herr von Stielow," said Knaak, "if Pepi falls in love with you it is all up with you, 'tis a case of

"And seek I e'er A knight t' ensnare Resistance nought avails him."

She tapped Knaak upon the mouth as she cried:

"All very well, but when people look as romantic as Stielow there, they are of no use to me. I wager he has not a bit of room in his heart.

Besides," she added, with the greatest gravity, "I don't fall in love so easily. I must see the baptismal registry first."

"What for?" asked von Stielow.

"She must know if he is of age and free to spend his money," said Matras.

"Matras is always thinking of money, poor fellow! he has so little,"

she cried, "but no, that's not it. You see I made up my mind, my lover and I should never have more than fifty years between us, and so the older I get the younger must be my lover, to make me quite sure that he has no more years than fall to his share. I have made up my mind, and I shall always stick to it."

They all laughed.

"Then you will soon come to swaddling clothes," remarked old Grois drily.

"Papa Grois," cried she, "don't make such bad jokes; I have enough of them, from 'swaddling clothes' to 'experienced persons.'"

"And where is the Grobecker?" asked Knaak.

"She has quarrelled with her duke," said Doctor Herzel.

"What again, already?"

"She maintains he is making love to little Pepi, and she will not have it."

"What a pa.s.sion it is!" cried the Gallmeyer. "Soon there will only be d.u.c.h.esses and princesses acting in the Karl Theatre. Well, for my part I shall stick to Pepi Gallmeyer."

And she sang,

"My mother is a washerwoman, And but a ballad girl am I, And when a sweetheart comes to woo, Away I to the washtub fly."

"Yes, it is true," said Grois; "you would be spoilt as a d.u.c.h.ess. Do you know what she did the other day? The Duke della Rotunda gave us a great supper at his hotel. It was all quite princely, and footmen in white stockings handed the most excellent dishes. Pepi did nothing but gape; at last she said, 'My lord duke, where is the Schwemme? I can't stand this, 'tis too fine for me.'"

"What is the Schwemme?" asked von Stielow.

"It is what they call the second cla.s.s restaurants in Vienna; they have them in every hotel here to accommodate traveller's servants."

"And they are a thousand times more amusing than that tiresome old duke, with his silver candlesticks and stork-legged lacqueys," laughed the Gallmeyer.

The door was opened hastily, and a beautiful young woman holding a newspaper in her hand entered. It was Madame Friedrich-Materna, an opera-singer, then engaged at the Karl Theatre.

"Have you heard it yet?" she cried, "war is declared, or as good as declared; it is here in the 'Evening Post;' our amba.s.sador is recalled from Berlin, and the army is ordered to march into Bohemia."

"Then it is all up with us," cried the Gallmeyer, "all up with merry Vienna; and," she added, glancing compa.s.sionately at von Stielow, "alas! how many handsome young fellows will get shot."

Old Grois raised his head.

"We must have something patriotic in the theatre, something of the good old kind; monkey tricks won't do, when a b.l.o.o.d.y tragedy is being played outside."

"I must go to the editor's office," said Doctor Herzel, with some importance. He rose and seized his hat.

A waiter entered.

"Is Baron von Stielow here?" he asked.

"What is it?" cried the young officer.

"Your servant with an orderly; they have been looking every where for you."

"Duty," cried von Stielow, and rose--

"Farewell, my hosts. Your health, Fraulein Pepi."

He emptied a gla.s.s of punch and left the room. A cavalry soldier in a cuira.s.sier uniform handed him a sealed official paper.