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"You have written the conquests of the republic upon your body, my friend," said Eugene, kindly. "But your mutilations are so many orders of valor; they are the ineffaceable laurels which victory places on a brave man's brow."
A slight flush overspread the sallow face of the ex-soldier, and his eyes sought the floor.
Eugene contemplated him for several moments with the sympathy--even the respect--which a military man feels for extraordinary bravery, as attested by such wounds as these.
"With what manner of weapon were you cut in the face?" said he. "Not with a sabre, for the scar is curved."
"It was not a sabre-cut, excellenza," replied the man, in a low, tremulous voice. "I was in the breech, fighting hand to hand with a Turk, whom I had just overthrown. While I was stooping over his prostrate body, he drew forth a yataghan and gashed my face as you see."
"I knew it was a dagger-thrust," replied Eugene. "Well, this scar shall be your best recommendation to me, for I, too, am a soldier."
"Excellenza, I thank you, but I have other and weighty recommendations from my employers. Moreover, here is my license as commissionnaire from the Signiory."
So saying, he would have handed the prince a doc.u.ment with a large seal appended to it, but Eugene waved it away.
"I prefer the license to serve that is written on your body, my friend. You have been a brave soldier, you will therefore be a faithful servant. You say that you are well acquainted with Venice?"
"Ay, indeed, signor; I know every palace and every den, every n.o.bleman and every bravo, in Venice."
"You are, then, the very man I need. Make your terms with my secretary. But be loyal to me, and remember that the scar you had received in your country's service was the only recommendation I required when I took you into mine."
"Excellenza!" exclaimed the man, kneeling, and raising the prince's doublet to his lips, "I will bear it in mind, and serve you faithfully."
"I believe you, my brave! Rise and tell me your name."
"Antonio, signor."
"Antonio.--Well, Antonio, you accompany me to the regatta to-day."
"My lord," said Conrad, entering the room, "your gondola is below, and his highness the Elector of Bavaria is here."
A deep flush of joy overspread Eugene's countenance as he, advanced to welcome his friend. Max Emmanuel had chosen the gorgeous costume of a Russian boyar. His dress was of dark-blue velvet, bordered with sables, and b.u.t.toned up to the throat with immense brilliants. On his head he wore a Russian cap, with a heron's plume fastened in front by a rosette of opals and diamonds.
Eugene surveyed him with undisguised admiration. "You are as gloriously handsome as a Grecian demi-G.o.d," cried he, enthusiastically. "I pity the lovely women of Venice to-day, when they come within sight of the hero of Buda."
"I absolve them all from tribute except one," returned Max.
"What! In love already!"
"My dear young friend, I saw yesterday on a balcony a black-haired beauty far beyond pari or houri of my imagination!--majestic as Juno, voluptuous as Venus, with eyes that maddened, and smile that ravished me. Unless I find this houri, I am a lost, broken-hearted man!"
"Then you have not yet begun your siege?"
"Impossible to begin it. The Duke of Modena was with me, and you know what an enterprising roue he is. To have pointed her out to him would have been to retreat with loss. So I was obliged to say nothing: but I will see her again if, to do so, I have to reduce Venice to a heap of ashes!"
"Peace, thou insatiable conqueror, or amorous ambition will intoxicate you. You are certainly just the very cavalier to storm and take the citadel of a woman's heart; but you are the Elector of Bavaria, a reigning prince, and son-in-law of the Emperor of Austria."
"My dear Eugene, no ugly moral reflections, as you love me! I am here to enjoy the glow of the warm blood that dances through my veins to sip the ambrosia that pleasure holds to my lips--in short, I am, body and soul, a son of the short-lived carnival that begins to-day. Don't preach; but pray if you like, for my success, and help me in my need."
"Help you? I should like to know how I am to do that!" said Eugene, laughing. "But stay--I have a man in my service who professes to know everybody in Venice. So, if you should see your houri to-day, point her out, and doubtless Antonio will tell us her name. Ah!
Twelve o'clock at last!--dome, come, let us go."
"You have not made your toilet, Eugene. What costume have you selected?"
"The very respectable one of a little abbe," was the reply.
"Respectable, if you will, but excessively unbecoming, and unworthy of the Prince of Savoy. I perceive that you, at least, have no wish to make conquests to-day."
"No--all my victories I hope to win by the help of my good sword."
"Do you go with me in my gondola, reverend sir?"
"I in your magnificent gondola, at the side of such a Phoebus- Apollo! I might well despair of making conquests in such company; and, for aught you know, I may be desirous of attracting the attention of some fair lady who is not taken by appearances."
The elector looked up in surprise. He had never heard an expression like this from Eugene's lips before; and now he saw clearly that his demeanor had changed, that his eye was restless and bright, his cheek flushed, his whole countenance beaming with some inward hope or realized joy.
"Eugene," said he, touching his friend's shoulder, "Venice holds the secret of your love; and you have tidings that have lightened your heart. I read them in your eyes, which are far from being as discreet as your lips."
"Perhaps so; but the secrets of love are sacred--sacred as those of the confessional. Nevertheless, I may confide in you sooner than you expect, for I may need your help as well as you mine."
The two young men went out arm in arm, followed by the suite of the elector, and, behind them, by Conrad and Antonio.
"Who is that mask?" asked Max, as he pa.s.sed by.
"My new commissionnaire, Antonio--he that is to tell us the name of your belle."
They were by this time on the marble stairs that led to the water, where side by side lay the superb gilded gondola of the Elector of Bavaria and the inconspicuous one of the Prince of Savoy.
As the two princes were descending the stairs, a gayly-dressed n.o.bleman sprang from the gondola of the elector, and advanced respectfully to meet them.
"Monsieur le Marquis de Villars," said Max, bowing, "I am happy to see that you have accepted a seat with me."
"It is an honor for which I am deeply grateful, your highness,"
replied the marquis; "and one which I accept in the name of my gracious sovereign, for whom alone such a compliment can be intended."
"You are mistaken, marquis; I invited you that I might enjoy the pleasure of your company to-day. Allow me, Prince of Savoy, to introduce to you the Marquis de Villars, the French amba.s.sador to the court of Bavaria."
"There is no necessity for us to know each other," replied Eugene.
"The marquis is a Frenchman, and I have no love for that nation; particularly for those who are favorites of Monsieur Louvois. Adieu, your highness."
And without vouchsafing a word to the French amba.s.sador, Eugene entered his gondola.
"I must apologize for my friend," said the courteous Max Emmanuel to the marquis. "He has been sorely injured both by the King of France and his minister. Forget his bluntness, then, I beseech you, and forgive his unpleasant remark."
"He is your highness's friend, and that at once earns his forgiveness," replied De Villars. "But that the friend of the Elector of Bavaria should be the enemy of my sovereign I deeply regret; for he may prejudice your highness against the King of France. He may transfer his aversion to--"
"Let us rather suppose that I may transfer my love of France to him," said Max Emmanuel. "But let us eschew politics, and enjoy the bliss of the hour. To-day la bella Venezia puts forth all her charms. And as the swift gondolas skim over the green waters of the lagoon, so flies my heart toward my bellissima Venetiana!"