Old Fritz and the New Era Part 7

Wilhelmine read: "By my love, by the heads of my two children, I swear that I will never forsake you--that I will be faithful to you unto death, and will never separate myself from you; that my friendship and love will endure beyond the grave; that I will ever be contented and happy so long as I may call myself your Wilhelmine Enke."

"I accept your oath, dearest," said the prince, pressing her to his heart. "This paper is one of my choicest jewels, and I will never separate myself from it. We have now sealed our love and fidelity with our blood, and I hope that you will never doubt me again. Remember this hour!"

"I will," she earnestly promised, "and I swear to you never to torment and torture you again with my jealousy. I shall always know, and shall hold fast to it, that you will return to me."

A violent knocking on the house door interrupted the stillness of the night. A voice in loud, commanding tones called to the night-watch.

"Here I am!" answered the porter. "Who calls me? And what is the matter?"

"Open the door," commanded the voice again.

"It is our house," whispered Wilhelmine, who had softly opened the window. "It is so dark, I can only see a black shadow before the door."

"Do you belong to the house?" asked the night-watch. "I dare let no one in who does not belong there."

"Lift up your lantern, and look at my livery. It is at the king's order!"

Wilhelmine withdrew from the window, and hastened to the prince, who had retired to the back part of the room.

"It is Kretzschmar, the king's footman and spy," she whispered. "Hide yourself, that he does not discover you. Go there to the children."

"No, Wilhelmine, I will remain here. I--"

Wilhelmine pressed her hand upon his mouth, and forced him into the side-room, bolting the door.

"Now," said she, "I will meet my fate with courage; whatever may come, it shall find me firm and composed. My children are safe, for their father is with them."

She took the light, and hastened into the anteroom, which was resounding with the loud ringing.

"Who is there?" she cried. "Who rings so late at night?"

"In the name of the king, open!"

Wilhelmine shoved back the bolt, opening the door.

"Come in," she said, "and tell me who you are."

"I think you recognize me," said Kretzschmar, with an impudent smile.

"You have often seen me at Potsdam in company with the king. I saw you this morning as the king did you the honor to speak with you, and I believe did not compliment you."

"Did his majesty send you here to say this to me?"

"No, not exactly that," answered he, smiling; "but, as you asked me, I was obliged to answer. I have come here with all speed as courier from Potsdam. I hope you will at least give me a good trinkgeld. I was commanded to deliver into your own hands this paper, for which I must have a receipt." He drew from his breast pocket a large sealed doc.u.ment, which he handed to Wilhelmine. "Here is the receipt all ready, with the pencil; you have only to sign your name, and the business is finished."

He stretched himself with an air of the greatest ease upon the cane chair, near the door.

Wilhelmine colored with anger at the free conduct of the royal footman, and hastened to sign the receipt to rid herself of the messenger, and to read the letter.

"What will you give me for trinkgeld, Mamselle Enke?" asked the footman, as she gave him the receipt.

"Your own rudeness and insult," answered Wilhelmine proudly, as she turned, without saluting him, to the sitting-room.

Kretzschmar laughed aloud. "She will play the great and proud lady,"

said he. "She will get over that when in prison. The letter is without doubt an order of arrest, for when the king flashes and thunders as he did this morning, he usually strikes. I hope it will agree with you." He slowly left the anteroom, and descended the stairs to mount his horse, which he had bound to a tree.

Wilhelmine hastened in the mean time to the prince. "Here is the letter addressed to me," said she, handing him the sealed envelope. "I beg you to open it; courage fails me, everything trembles and swims before my eyes. Read it aloud--I will receive my sentence from your lips."

The prince exclaimed, breaking the seal: "It is the handwriting of the secret cabinet secretary, Menken, and the message comes immediately from the king's cabinet. Now, Wilhelmine, do not tremble; lean your head upon me, and let us read."

"'In the name of his majesty, Wilhelmine Enke is commanded, under penalty of severe punishment, not to leave her room or her dwelling, until the king shall permit her, and send some one to take her and all that belongs to her to her place of destination. She shall receive this order with patience and humility, and consider her apartment as a prison, which she shall not leave under severe penalty, nor allow any one to enter it. Whoever may be with her at the time of receiving the order, who do not belong there, shall speedily absent themselves, and if the same ride or drive to Potsdam, they shall immediately take a message to his royal highness the Prince of Prussia, and announce to him that his majesty expects him at Sans-Souci at ten o'clock tomorrow morning.

The Minister von Herzberg will be in waiting to confer with the prince.

The above is communicated to Wilhelmine Enke for her strict observance, and she will act accordingly.'"

A long silence followed the reading of this letter. Both looked down, thoughtfully recalling the contents.

"A prisoner," murmured Wilhelmine, "a prisoner in my own house."

"And for me the peremptory command to leave immediately for Potsdam, in order to be at Sans-Souci early in the morning. What can the king mean?"

"He will announce to you my imprisonment, my exile," sighed Wilhelmine.

The crown prince shook his head. "No," said he, "I do not believe it. If the king would send you to prison, he would not make such preparation; he would not commence with the house arrest, as if you were an officer, who had been guilty of some slight insubordination, but he would act with decision, as is his wont. He would at once have sent you to Spandau or some other prison, and left it to me to have taken further steps.

No--the more I think it over, the more evident it is to me that the king is not really angry; he will only torment us a little, as it pleases his teasing spirit. The chief thing now is to obey, and give him no further occasion for anger. You must be very careful not to leave your apartment, or to allow any one to enter it. I shall start without delay for Potsdam. There are spies posted as well for you as myself; our steps are watched, and an exact account of them given. I must away quickly."

"Must you leave me a prisoner? Oh, how hard and cruel life is!"

"Yes, it is, indeed, Wilhelmine. But I must also humbly submit and obey.

Is not life hard for me, and yet I am crown prince, the heir to the throne! I shall be reprimanded and scolded like a footman. I must obey as a slave, and am not permitted to act according to my will. I am only a mere peg in the great machine which he directs, and the--"

"Hush! for mercy's sake be quiet! What if some one should hear you? You know not if the spies may not be at the door."

"True," said the prince, bitterly. "I do not know! The nurse even, who suckles our child, may be a paid spy. The owner of this house may be in the king's service, and creep to the door to listen. Therefore it is necessary, above all things, that we act according to the king's commands. Farewell, Wilhelmine, I must set off at once. Kretzschmar is no doubt at the corner of the street to see whether I, as an obedient servant of his master, leave here. If I do it, he will take the news to Sans-Souci, and perhaps the king will be contented. Farewell, I go at once to the palace, to start from there for Potsdam."

"Farewell, my beloved one! May G.o.d in heaven and the king upon earth be merciful to us! I will force myself to composure and humility. What I suffer is for you! This shall be my consolation. If we never meet again, Frederick William, I know you will not forget how much I have loved you!"

CHAPTER VI. THE PARADE.

Since early morning a gay, warlike life had reigned at Potsdam and the neighborhood of Sans-Souci. From every side splendid regiments approached, with proud and stately bearing, in glittering uniforms, to take in perfect order the places a.s.signed to them. With flying banners, drums beating, and shrill blasts of trumpets, they came marching on to the great parade--the last, for the king was about to leave for the field. Thousands of spectators poured forth, notwithstanding the early hour, from Potsdam; and from Berlin even they came in crowds, to take a last look of the soldiers--of their king, who was still the hero at sixty-nine--the "Alto Fritz," whom they adored--though they felt the rigor of his government. It was a magnificent spectacle, indeed--this immense square, filled with regiments, their helmets, swords, and gold embroideries glittering in the May sun. Officers, mounted on richly caparisoned steeds, drew up in the centre, or galloped along the front of the lines, censuring with a thundering invective any deviation or irregularity. In the rear of the troops stood the equipages of the distinguished spectators on the one side, while on the other the people in compact ma.s.ses swayed to and fro, gayly pa.s.sing judgment upon the different regiments and their generals. The people--that means all those who were not rich enough to have a carriage, or sufficiently distinguished to claim a place upon the tribune reserved for n.o.ble ladies and gentlemen--here they stood, the educated and uneducated, shoemaker and tailor, savant and artist--a motley mixture! Two gentlemen of the high citizen cla.s.s apparently were among the crowd. They were dressed in the favorite style, which, since the "Sorrows of Werther" had appeared, was the fashion--tight-fitting boots, reaching to the knee, with yellow tops; white breeches, over which fell the long-bodied green vest; a gray frock with long pointed tails and large metal b.u.t.tons, well-powdered cue, tied with little ribbons, surmounted with a low, wide-brimmed hat. Only one of the gentlemen wore the gray frock, according to the faultless Werther costume, a young man of scarcely thirty years, of fine figure, and proud bearing; a face expressive and sympathetic, reminding one of the glorious portraits of men which antiquity has bequeathed to us. It seemed like the head of a G.o.d descended to earth, n.o.ble in every feature, full of grace and beauty; the slightly Roman nose well marked yet delicate; the broad, thoughtful brow; the cheeks flushed with the hue of youth and power; the well-defined chin and red lips, expressive of goodness, benevolence, roguery, and haughtiness; large, expressive eyes, flashing with the fire which the G.o.ds had enkindled. His companion was perhaps eight years younger, less well-proportioned, still of graceful appearance, in his youthful freshness, with frank, cheerful mien, clever, good-natured, sparkling eyes, and red, pouting lips, which never liked to cease chatting.

"See, Wolff! I beg," said the young man, "see that old waddling duck, Mollendorf. I know the old fellow, he is from Gotha; he imagines himself of the greatest importance, and thinks Prussia begets fame and honor from his grace. He trumpets forth his own glories at a dinner, and abuses his king. He makes Frederick the Great an insignificant little being, that he may look over him."

"Unimportant men always do that," answered the other. "They would make great men small, and think by placing themselves on high pedestals they become great. The clown striding through the crowd on his stilts may even look over an emperor. But fortunately there comes a time when the dear clown must come down from his stilts, and then it is clear to others, if not to himself, what little, earth-born snips the men of yesterday are."

"Only look, Wolff, there is just such a moment coming to that stiltsman Mollendorf. How the great man stoops, and how small he looks on his gray horse, for a greater springs past! Look at him well, Wolff--we shall dine with him, and he does not like to be stared at in the face."