The Confessions of Harry Lorrequer Part 27

"There is only one point, Jack, you have not enlightened me upon, how came you here? You are some hundred miles from Hesse, in your present chateau."

"Oh! by Jove, that was a great omission in my narrative; but come, this will explain it; see here"--so saying, he drew from a little drawer a large lithographic print of a magnificent castellated building, with towers and bastions, keep, moat, and even draw-bridge, and the walls bristled with cannon, and an eagled banner floated proudly above them.

"What in the name of the Sphynxes is this?"

"There," said Jack, "is the Schloss von Eberhausen; or, if you like it in English, Eberhausen Castle, as it was the year of the deluge; for the present mansion that we are now sipping our wine in bears no very close resemblance to it. But to make the mystery clear, this was the great prize in the Francfort lottery, the ticket of which my aunt's first note contained, and which we were fortunate enough to win. We have only been here a few weeks, and though the affair looks somewhat meagre, we have hopes that in a little time, and with some pains, much may be done to make it habitable. There is a capital cha.s.ses of some hundred acres; plenty of wood and innumerable rights, seignorial, memorial, &c., which, fortunately for my neighbours, I neither understand nor care for; and we are therefore the best friends in the world. Among others I am styled the graf or count--."

"Well, then, Monsieur Le Comte, do you intend favouring me with your company at coffee this evening; for already it is ten o'clock; and considering my former claim upon Mr. Lorrequer, you have let me enjoy very little of his society."

We now adjourned to the drawing-room, where we gossipped away till past midnight; and I retired to my room, meditating over Jack's adventures, and praying in my heart, that despite all his mischances, my own might end as happily.

CHAPTER LI.

MUNICH.

The rest and quietness of the preceding day had so far recovered me from the effects of my accident, that I resolved, as soon as breakfast was over, to take leave of my kind friends, and set out for Munich.

"We shall meet to-night, Harry," said Waller, as we parted--"we shall meet at the Casino--and don't forget that the Croix Blanche is your hotel; and Schnetz, the tailor, in the Grande Place, will provide you with every thing you need in the way of dress."

This latter piece of information was satisfactory, inasmuch as the greater part of my luggage, containing my uniform, &c., had been left in the French diligence; and as the ball was patronised by the court, I was greatly puzzled how to make my appearance.

Bad roads and worse horses made me feel the few leagues I had to go the most tiresome part of my journey. But, of course, in this feeling impatience had its share. A few hours more, and my fate should be decided; and yet I thought the time would never come. If the Callonbys should not arrive--if, again, my evil star be in the ascendant, and any new impediment to our meeting arise--but I cannot, will not, think this --Fortune must surely be tired of persecuting me by this time, and, even to sustain her old character for fickleness, must befriend me now. Ah! here we are in Munich--and this is the Croix Blanche--what a dingy old mansion! Beneath a ma.s.sive porch, supported by heavy stone pillars, stood the stout figure of Andreas Behr, the host. A white napkin, fastened in one b.u.t.ton-hole, and hanging gracefully down beside him--a soup-ladle held sceptre-wise in his right hand, and the grinding motion of his nether jaw, all showed that he had risen from his table d'hote to welcome the new arrival; and certainly, if noise and uproar might explain the phenomenon, the clatter of my equipage over the pavement might have risen the dead.

While my postillion was endeavouring, by mighty efforts, with a heavy stone, to turn the handle of the door, and thus liberate me from my cage, I perceived that the host came forward and said something to him--on replying, to which, he ceased his endeavours to open the door, and looked vacantly about him. Upon this I threw down the sash, and called out-- "I say, is not this the Croix Blanche?"

"Ya," said the man-mountain with the napkin.

"Well, then, open the door, pray--I'm going to stop here."

"Nein."

"No! What do you mean by that? Has not Lord Callonby engaged rooms here?"

"Ya."

"Well, then, I am a particular friend of his, and will stay here also."

"Nein."

"What the devil are you at, with your ya and nein?" said I. "Has your confounded tongue nothing better than a monosyllable to reply with."

Whether disliking the tone the controversy was a.s.suming, or remembering that his dinner waited, I know not, but at these words my fat friend turned leisurely round, and waddled back into the house; where, in a moment after, I had the pleasure of beholding him at the head of a long table, distributing viands with a very different degree of activity from what he displayed in dialogue.

With one vigorous jerk, I dashed open the door, upsetting, at the same time, the poor postillion, who had recommenced his operations on the lock, and, foaming with pa.s.sion, strode into the "salle a manger." Nothing is such an immediate damper to any sudden explosion of temper, as the placid and unconcerned faces of a number of people, who, ignorant of yourself and your peculiar miseries at the moment, seem only to regard you as a madman. This I felt strongly, as, flushed in face and tingling in my fingers, I entered the room.

"Take my luggage," said I to a gaping waiter, "and place a chair there, do you hear?"

There seemed, I suppose, something in my looks that did not admit of much parley, for the man made room for me at once at the table, and left the room, as if to discharge the other part of my injunction, without saying a word. As I arranged my napkin before me, I was collecting my energies and my German, as well as I was able, for the attack of the host, which, I antic.i.p.ated from his recent conduct, must now ensue; but, greatly to my surprise, he sent me my soup without a word, and the dinner went on without any interruption. When the desert had made its appearance, I beckoned the waiter towards me, and asked what the landlord meant by his singular reception of me. The man shrugged his shoulders, and raised his eyebrows, without speaking, as if to imply, "it's his way."

"Well, then, no matter," said I. "Have you sent my luggage up stairs?"

"No, sir, there is no room--the house is full."

"The house full! Confound it--this is too provoking. I have most urgent reasons for wishing to stay here. Cannot you make some arrangement--see about it, waiter." I here slipped a Napoleon into the fellow's hand, and hinted that as much more awaited the finale of the negociation.

In about a minute after, I perceived him behind the host's chair, pleading my cause with considerable energy; but to my complete chagrin, I heard the other answer all his eloquence by a loud "Nein," that he grunted out in such a manner as closed the conference.

"I cannot succeed, sir," said the man, as he pa.s.sed behind me, "but don't leave the house till I speak with you again."

What confounded mystery is there in all this, thought I. Is there any thing so suspicious in my look or appearance, that the old bear in the fur cap will not even admit me. What can it all mean. One thing I'm resolved upon--nothing less than force shall remove me.

So saying I lit my cigar, and in order to give the waiter an opportunity of conferring with me un.o.bserved by his master, walked out into the porch and sat down.

In a few minutes he joined me, and after a stealthy look on each side, said-- "The Herr Andreas is a hard man to deal with, and when he says a thing, never goes back of it. Now he has been expecting the new English Charge d'Affaires here these last ten days, and has kept the hotel half empty in consequence; and as mi Lor Callonby has engaged the other half, why we have nothing to do; so that when he asked the postillion if you were mi Lor, and found that you were not, he determined not to admit you."

"But why not have the civility to explain that?"

"He seldom speaks, and when he does only a word or two at a time. He is quite tired with what he has gone through to-day, and will retire very early to bed; and for this reason I have requested you to remain, for as he never ventures up stairs, I will then manage to give you one of the amba.s.sador's rooms, which, even if he come, he'll never miss. So that if you keep quiet, and do not attract any particular attention towards you, all will go well."

This advice seemed so reasonable, that I determined to follow it--any inconvenience being preferable, provided I could be under the same roof with my beloved Jane; and from the waiter's account, there seemed no doubt whatever of their arrival that evening. In order, therefore, to follow his injunctions to the letter, I strolled out toward the Place in search of the tailor, and also to deliver a letter from Waller to the chamberlain, to provide me with a card for the ball. Monsieur Schnetz, who was the very pinnacle of politeness, was nevertheless, in fact, nearly as untractable as my host of the "Cross." All his "sujets" were engaged in preparing a suit for the English Charge d'Affaires, whose trunks had been sent in a wrong direction, and who had despatched a courier from Frankfort, to order a uniform. This second thwarting, and from the same source, so nettled me, that I greatly fear, all my respect for the foreign office and those who live thereby, would not have saved them from something most unlike a blessing, had not Monsieur Schnetz saved diplomacy from such desecration by saying, that if I could content myself with a plain suit, such as civilians wore, he would do his endeavour to accommodate me.

"Any thing, Monsieur Schnetz--dress me like the Pope's Nuncio, or the Mayor of London, if you like, but only enable me to go."

Although my reply did not seem to convey a very exalted idea of my taste in costume to the worthy artiste, it at least evinced my anxiety for the ball; and running his measure over me, he a.s.sured me that the dress he would provide was both well looking and becoming; adding, "At nine o'clock, sir, you'll have it--exactly the same size as his Excellency the Charge d'Affaires."

"Confound the Charge d'Affaires!" I added, and left the house.

CHAPTER LII.

INN AT MUNICH.

As I had never been in Munich before, I strolled about the town till dusk. At that time the taste of the present king had not enriched the capital with the innumerable objects of art which render it now second to none in Europe. There were, indeed, then but few attractions--narrow streets, tall, unarchitectural-looking houses, and gloomy, unimpressive churches. Tired of this, I turned towards my inn, wondering in my mind if Antoine had succeeded in procuring me the room, or whether yet I should be obliged to seek my lodging elsewhere. Scarcely had I entered the porch, when I found him waiting my arrival, candle in hand. He conducted me at once up the wide oaken stair, then along the gallery, into a large wainscotted room, with a most capacious bed. A cheerful wood fire burned and crackled away in the grate--the cloth was already spread for supper--(remember it was in Germany)--the newspapers of the day were placed before me--and, in a word, every attention showed that I had found the true avenue to Antoine's good graces, who now stood bowing before me, in apparent ecstasy at his own cleverness.

"All very well done, Antoine, and now for supper--order it yourself for me--I never can find my way in a German 'carte de diner;' and be sure to have a fiacre here at nine--nine precisely."

Antoine withdrew, leaving me to my own reflections, which now, if not gloomy, were still of the most anxious kind.

Scarcely was the supper placed upon the table, when a tremendous tramping of horses along the street, and loud cracking of whips, announced a new arrival.

"Here they are," said I, as, springing up, I upset the soup, and nearly threw the roti into Antoine's face, as he was putting it before me.

Down stairs I rushed, through the hall, pushing aside waiters and overturning chambermaids in my course. The carriage was already at the door. Now for a surprise, thought I, as I worked through the crowd in the porch, and reached the door just as the steps were clattered down, and a gentleman began to descend, whom twenty expectant voices, now informed of his ident.i.ty, welcomed as the new Charge d'Affaires.

"May all the--"

What I wished for his excellency it would not be polite to repeat, nor most discreet even to remember; but, certes, I mounted the stairs with as little good will towards the envoy extraordinary as was consistent with due loyalty.

When once more in my room, I congratulated myself that now at least no more "false starts" could occur--"the eternal Charge d'Affaires, of whom I have been hearing since my arrival, cannot come twice--he is here now, and I hope I'm done with him."

The supper--some greasiness apart--was good--the wine excellent. My spirits were gradually rising, and I paced my room in that mingled state of hope and fear, that amid all its anxieties, has such moments of ecstasy. A new noise without--some rabble in the street; hark, it comes nearer--I hear the sound of wheels; yes, there go the horses--nearer and nearer. Ah, it is dying away again--stay--yes, yes--here it is--here they are. The noise and tumult without now increased every instant--the heavy trot of six or eight horses shook the very street, and I heard the round, dull, rumbling sound of a heavy carriage, as it drew up at last at the door of the inn. Why it was I know not, but this time I could not stir--my heart beat almost loud enough for me to hear--my temples throbbed, and then a cold and clammy perspiration came over me, and I sank into a chair. Fearing that I was about to faint, sick as I was, I felt angry with myself, and tried to rally, but could not, and only at length was roused by hearing that the steps were let down, and shortly after the tread of feet coming along the gallery towards my room.

They are coming--she is coming, thought I. Now then for my doom!

There was some noise of voices outside. I listened, for I still felt unable to rise. The talking grew louder--doors were opened and shut --then came a lull--then more slamming of doors, and more talking--then all was still again--and at last I heard the steps of people as if retiring, and in a few minutes after the carriage door was jammed to, and again the heavy tramp of the horses rattled over the pave. At this instant Antoine entered.

"Well, Antoine," said I, in a voice trembling with weakness and agitation, "not them yet?"

"It was his Grace the Grand Mareschal," said Antoine, scarcely heeding my question, in the importance of the ill.u.s.trious visitor who had arrived.

"Ah, the Grand Mareschal," said I, carelessly; "does he live here?"

"Sappermint nein, Mein Herr; but he has just been to pay his respects to his Excellency the new Charge d'Affaires."

In the name of all patience, I ask, who could endure this? From the hour of my arrival I am haunted by this one image--the Charge d'Affaires. For him I have been almost condemned to go houseless, and naked; and now the very most sacred feelings of my heart are subject to his influence. I walked up and down in an agony. Another such disappointment, and my brain will turn, thought I, and they may write my epitaph--"Died of love and a Charge d'Affaires."

"It is time to dress," said the waiter.

"I could strangle him with my own hands," muttered I, worked up into a real heat by the excitement of my pa.s.sion.

"The Charge--"

"Say that name again, villain, and I'll blow your brains out," cried I, seizing Antoine by the throat, and pinning him against the wall; "only dare to mutter it, and you'll ever breathe another syllable."

The poor fellow grew green with terror, and fell upon his knees before me.

"Get my dressing things ready," said I, in a more subdued tone. "I did not mean to terrify you--but beware of what I told you."

While Antoine occupied himself with the preparations for my toilette, I sat broodingly over the wood embers, thinking of my fate.

A knock came to the door. It was the tailor's servant with my clothes. He laid down the parcel and retired, while Antoine proceeded to open it, and exhibit before me a blue uniform with embroidered collar and cuffs --the whole, without being gaudy, being sufficiently handsome, and quite as showy as I could wish.

The poor waiter expressed his unqualified approval of the costume, and talked away about the approaching ball as something pre-eminently magnificent.

"You had better look after the fiacre, Antoine," said I; "it is past nine."

He walked towards the door, opened it, and then, turning round, said, in a kind of low, confidential whisper, pointing, with the thumb of his left hand, towards the wall of the room as he spoke-- "He won't go--very strange that."

"Who do you mean?" said I, quite unconscious of the allusion.

"The Charge d'Aff--"

I made one spring at him, but he slammed the door to, and before I could reach the lobby, I heard him rolling from top to bottom of the oak staircase, making noise enough in his fall to account for the fracture of every bone in his body.

CHAPTER LIII.

THE BALL.

As I was informed that the King would himself be present at the ball, I knew that German etiquette required that the company should arrive before his Majesty; and although now every minute I expected the arrival of the Callonbys, I dared not defer my departure any longer.

"They are certain to be at the ball," said Waller, and that sentence never left my mind.

So saying, I jumped into the fiacre, and in a few minutes found myself in the long line of carriages that led to the "Hof saal." Any one who has been in Munich will testify for me, that the ball room is one of the most beautiful in Europe, and to me who for some time had not been living much in the world, its splendour was positively dazzling. The glare of the chandeliers--the clang of the music--the magnificence of the dresses--the beauty of the Bavarian women too, all surprized and amazed me. There were several hundred people present, but the king not having yet arrived, dancing had not commenced. Feeling as I then did, it was rather a relief to me than otherwise, that I knew no one. There was quite amus.e.m.e.nt enough in walking through the saloons, observing the strange costumes, and remarking the various groups as they congregated around the trays of ices and the champagne glacee. The buzz of talking and the sounds of laughter and merriment prevailed over even the orchestra; and, as the gay crowds paraded the rooms, all seemed pleasure and excitement. Suddenly a tremendous noise was heard without--then came a loud roll of the drums, which lasted for several seconds, and the clank of musketry--then a cheer;--it is the king.

The king! resounded on all sides; and in another moment the large folding-doors at the end of the saal were thrown open, and the music struck up the national anthem of Bavaria.

His majesty entered, accompanied by the queen, his brother, two or three archd.u.c.h.esses, and a long suite of officers.

I could not help remarking upon the singular good taste with which the a.s.sembly--all anxious and eager to catch a glimpse of his majesty --behaved on this occasion. There was no pressing forward to the "estrade" where he stood,--no vulgar curiosity evinced by any one, but the group continued, as before, to gather and scatter. The only difference being, that the velvet chair and cushion, which had attracted some observers before, were, now that they were tenanted by royalty, pa.s.sed with a deep and respectful salutation. How proper this, thought I, and what an inducement for a monarch to come among his people, who remember to receive him with such true politeness. While these thoughts were pa.s.sing through my mind, as I was leaning against a pillar that supported the gallery of the orchestra, a gentleman whose dress, covered with gold and embroidery, bespoke him as belonging to the court, eyed me aside with his lorgnette and then pa.s.sed rapidly on. A quadrille was now forming near me, and I was watching, with some interest, the proceeding, when the same figure that I remarked before, approached me, bowing deeply at every step, and shaking a very halo of powder from his hair at each reverence.

"May I take the liberty of introducing myself to you?" said he.--"Le Comte Benningsen." Here he bowed again, and I returned the obeisance still deeper. "Regretted much that I was not fortunate enough to make your acquaintance this evening, when I called upon you."

"Never heard of that," said I to myself.

"Your excellency arrived this evening?"

"Yes," said I, "only a few hours since."

"How fond these Germans are of t.i.tles," thought I. Remembering that in Vienna every one is "his grace," I thought it might be Bavarian politeness to call every one his excellency.

"You have not been presented, I believe?"

"No," said I; "but I hope to take an early opportunity of paying 'mes homages' to his majesty."

"I have just received his orders to present you now," replied he, with another bow.