Old Fritz and the New Era Part 48

"Who summoned me?" repeated the figure. The prince's lips refused to respond, and shuddering he gazed upon the corpse-like face, so exact in feature to the old Roman emperor.

"You answer me not!" thundered the voice, "but I will tell you who you are--one lost in sin and an apostate!--the crown prince of Prussia, a future king, who will be called to govern a people, and knows not self-government! Turn from the path of vice while it is yet time; rise from the dust, that the ashes of retribution do not bury you in a living tomb, like the sinful Pompeians. No monument marks the place of the sinful; he sinks into the night of oblivion, or he is cursed by succeeding generations. Therefore turn from the errors of sin. Rise to virtue, that the blessed may approach you. I shudder in your presence.

Woe to you! woe! woe!"

The cloud-portrait vanished, and darkness reigned for a moment. The prince cried in anguish: "I will hear no more; this air oppresses me--open the door--I renounce communion with the spirits; I will go out!"

The light reappeared in the dark room and another form hovered over the prince--of grave, obscure face, with a great peruke, staring at him. He recognized the distinguished philosopher Leibnitz, whom he had desired to see, but who now filled him with unspeakable terror. Like the former spirit, he also, when unanswered, reproached the erring prince, conjuring him to return to virtue.

As the menacing ghost disappeared, the prince felt for the door, and shook it with the power which terror lends, crying, "Open, open!"

It opened not, and the third summoned, the great elector, Frederick William, appeared, with high, up-lifted arm, glittering eyes, advancing with angry mien, shaking his lion's mane against the erring son of his house, whom he menaced with curses and revenge, if he did not renounce the courtesan who had seduced him to vice and unchast.i.ty.

"I will become better," groaned the prince. "I will perform the wish of the spirits. Only have mercy on me--free me. Help! help! Open the door, Bischofswerder, I will do better. Open the door!"

This time it really opened, and a long train of dark, masked forms entered the dusky room surrounding the prince, wringing their hands, imploring him to turn from sin, and forsake the unholy woman.

They whimpered, they implored, sinking upon their knees, beating their clinched hands, and weeping: "Turn, beloved elect! Renounce Wilhelmine Enke; renounce vice! Repulse the seductress, and turn your countenance to Virtue which you have seen in all her beauty!"

"I will perform that which you demand," wept the prince, as the deathly terror and nervous excitement made him yielding.

"Swear!" cried the chorus of masks.

"I swear that Wilhelmine Enke shall no longer be my mistress. I swear by all that is holy that I will renounce her! I--"

Voice failed him; there was a ringing and buzzing in his ears; every thing swam before his eyes, and he sank fainting. The prince awoke after long unconsciousness, and found himself upon his bed in the new palace at Potsdam, Bischofswerder at his side, watching him with the tenderest sympathy. He bent over him and pressed his hand to his lips with a cry of delight. "Heaven be praised; my dear prince, you have awaked to commence a new life! You now belong to the virtuous and honorable, whom the Invisible Fathers bless!"

"Is it true, Bischofswerder," said the prince, languidly, "that I have sworn to renounce Wilhelmine Enke, and never to love her more?"

"You have sworn it by all that is holy, and all in heaven and on earth have heard your oath, and there is joy thereat."

The prince turned his head, that Bischofswerder might not see the tears streaming down his cheeks.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII. THE RETURN HOME.

The beautiful house which Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen possessed upon the finest street in Berlin, "Unter den Linden," had been newly arranged and splendidly ornamented since his marriage and elevation to a t.i.tle, and now awaited his arrival. For many weeks mechanics and artists had been busily employed; and the good housekeeper, old Trude, saw with bewildering astonishment the daily increasing splendor of gilded furniture, costly mirrors and chandeliers, soft carpets, tapestries, and gold-embroidered curtains, exquisite paintings and statuary, which the possessor had forwarded from Italy, and many other objects of art standing upon gilt and marble tables.

Every thing was completed. The bustle of the busy workmen had ceased, and Trude slowly wandered through the solitary rooms, examining every article. Her face bespoke dissatisfaction, and a smile of contempt was visible there.

"Miserable trash, for which they have sold my poor child!" murmured the old woman. "For these worthless, glittering toys have they ruined the happiness of the dear innocent heart, and on them the guilt will fall if her soul is lost! I remark how she is changed in her letters since her shameful, mercenary marriage. She writes of nothing but the arrangement of her house, and speaks as if the beauty and costliness of things were only to be thought of, and there is not even a confidential, heart-felt word for her old Trude. It would seem as if she had forgotten all former objects of interest. Oh, what trouble and sorrows the rich have! That good-for-nothing money hardens their hearts and makes them evil and selfish."

The loud ringing of a bell sounded through the solitary drawing-rooms.

"That is, undoubtedly, the general's wife," said Trude, shaking her head. "She rings as if she would announce the king, with her nose turned up so high, or as if she were the money-sacks of her son-in-law!"

Trude was right; her shrill voice was heard ordering the steward, who had but just arrived. "It is abominable, it is unheard of!" she cried, as with a heavy push she burst open the door; "this man presumes to contradict me, and--ah, there you are, Trude!"

"Here I am," she answered; "were you looking for me?"

"Yes, and I would ask you if my orders are not the same as if given by Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen or his wife, or have you instructed the new steward otherwise, which, it is laughable to say, you have engaged?"

"No, I have not instructed him thus. Dear Marie has not ordered it in her letter."

"Dear Marie," repeated Frau von Werrig. "How can you permit yourself to speak so intimately of the rich Baroness von Ebenstreit?"

"Very true, it is not right," sighed Trude; "I beg pardon."

"I came here to see if every thing was in readiness, and ordered the steward to ornament the doors and corridors with garlands of flowers; he has had the boldness to tell me he dares not do it!"

"He is right, Frau von Leuthen. Baroness Ebenstreit von Leuthen (have I got the t.i.tle right?) wrote and expressly forbade any festivity to greet her arrival. Here is the letter--I carry it around with me; I will read it to you: 'I expressly forbid any manifestation whatever to be made at our return, whether of garlands or flowers, as they are only hypocrisy and falsehood. I wish no one there to receive me--remember, Trude, no one! Inform my family that, as soon as I have recovered from the fatigue of the journey, I will make them the visit of duty with the baron.'"

"What cold, heartless words are these! One could hardly believe that a daughter was writing of her parents."

"On her wedding-day she perhaps forgot that she had any," said Trude, shrugging her shoulders, "and she should not be at once reminded of that trying occasion on her return. I expect her every moment, as the courier has already arrived an hour ago, and it would be better--"

"You cannot be so impudent as to tell me to leave? Indeed, I will not be prevented from waiting to receive my only child that I have not seen for three years. One can well believe that a mother would be impatient to embrace her dear daughter! I have no other happiness but my beloved child, and I long, unspeakably, to press her to my heart and tell her my sorrow."

"Sorrow! is it possible that Frau von Werrig has any griefs? I supposed there was nothing in the world troubled her."

"And yet I am very much tormented. I can well tell you, Trude, as you are familiar with our circ.u.mstances," sighed the countess. "You know the general is tolerably well; the journeys to Wiesbaden and Teplitz have cured him of the gout unfortunately, so that he can go about."

"Are you sorry for that, Frau von Werrig?"

"Certainly I am, Trude, as he has returned to his former habits, frequenting the society of drinking-houses and gamblers. Imagine the general played yesterday, lost all his ready money, and that was not enough, but signed away the year's pension from Herr von Ebenstreit, during which time we have nothing but the miserable army annuity to live upon."

"Then your income will be less to live upon than formerly, for dear Marie earned something with her flowers and lessons which she gave to you, although she was never thanked for it. She was then my dear good Marie, so industrious and patient, and worked untiringly for her parents! Then she forgot them not, and toiled early and late, and, oh, it breaks my heart to think of it, and I must cry in your presence!"

She raised the corner of her dark-blue ap.r.o.n and dried her eyes, holding it there as she continued to weep.

"What an ugly ap.r.o.n!" cried the countess, "and how meanly you are dressed altogether! Is that the way you intend to go looking as the housekeeper of a rich and genteel family? Go, Trude, quickly, and put something better on, that you may receive your master and mistress in a suitable dress."

"I shall remain as I am, for I am very properly dressed. It may not be suitable for a housekeeper, but it becomes old Trude, and it is my Sunday frock, which I always wore when I was maid-of-all-work to you.

You may not remember it, but dear Marie (I should say Baroness von Ebenstreit) will, perhaps, and it may recall her little room in the garret, and then--"

"And then she will at last think, Trude, how we took care of her, and how thankful she ought to be to her parents that they married her to a rich man. If Marie sees it at last--"

"You forget with whom you speak, Frau von Werrig," Trude interrupted her, scornfully, "and that it does not become you to speak of Marie to old Trude, but you should remember her t.i.tle."

"Well, then, when Baroness von Ebenstreit enters this costly house, she must understand that her mother was mindful of her best interests, and that she owes all this to her; and you, Trude, must remind her of it, and tell her about my dreadful trial with her father, and that it is my daughter's duty to release me from it, and beg her husband not to deduct the gambling-debt from the pension, but pay it this once. For it would be a dreadful injustice to make me suffer for the general's rage for play, and show but little grat.i.tude for the riches which I brought her.

You will tell my daughter all this, Trude, and--"

"I will not tell her any thing at all, Frau von Werrig," interrupted.

Trude, warmly. "May my good genius keep me from that, and burdening my conscience with such falsehoods.--Hark! A carriage is coming, and a post-horn sounded. They have arrived!"

Old Trude hurried out just as they drove up to the door. The steward and two servants in livery rushed down the steps to a.s.sist them to alight, and Trude also to greet her favorite, who was now so pale, grave, and chilling in her appearance.