The Lost Manuscript Part 67

"How did the Prince contrive to gain this?"

"He showed an upright character and decided will, and one felt confidence in him."

The Sovereign gave a searching look at the Professor, and perceived from his calm manner that this was not empty civility.

"The attachment of the students showed itself on the departure of the young Prince by a festive serenade," interposed Ilse.

"I know," replied the Sovereign. "I a.s.sumed that Weidegg by his endeavors contrived to have this done."

"It was of their own free will, and showed their warm feeling," added the Professor.

The Sovereign remained silent.

"He won the hearts of the ladies also," continued Ilse, "and we lamented his Highness's absence from our tea-parties."

The Sovereign still continued silent; at last he began, in a bitter tone:

"What you tell me surprises me. Considering you as the Prince's instructor, I may speak more openly to you than to my household. The Prince has a weak character, and I have no confidence in his future."

"He gave us the impression of having, under all this shy reserve, the qualities for the formation of a firm and n.o.ble character," replied the Professor, respectfully.

Ilse thought that this was the moment to introduce something advantageous to the Prince.

"May I venture to tell your Highness, which my husband entirely approves of, that the Prince wishes far more knowledge concerning agricultural industry? As I am myself from the country, your Highness will forgive me if I should say that this is the best school for our dear young Prince."

"On the estate of your father?" asked the Sovereign shortly.

"Anywhere," replied Ilse, innocently.

"I have never heard him express any such wish," concluded the Sovereign, rising. "In any case I am grateful to you for the interest you take in his future."

He took leave with an air of reserve, and returned to his daily business.

The day was a difficult one for all who had to do with him. He rode out with his aide-de-camp into a rough, woody country, where his soldiers after a night-march were practising field service. Generally he cared little about the details of man[oe]uvres, but on this occasion he hara.s.sed his aides-de-camp and soldiers by sudden changes of disposition. When the soldiers at last returned home exhausted, he went to inspect a distant stud and a plantation, and wandered about four hours on rough hill roads. No one could do anything to suit him--blame and bitter remarks alone fell from his lips. In the evening there was a Court concert; the aide-de-camp, tired to death, stood in the hall, counting the minutes till his retirement. Then the Sovereign on withdrawing, called him to his study; there he seated himself in an arm-chair near the fire-place and gazed at the fire, occasionally put on a log, and held the silver handle of the fire-tongs in his hand, striking it at intervals on the iron bars of the grate. Meanwhile the aide-de-camp stood some steps behind him, one hour, two hours, till he was ready to faint. It was not till the middle of the night that the Sovereign rose and said, "You must be tired; I will not detain you longer." He spoke this mildly, but his eyes glittered with an unpleasant gleam, and the aide-de-camp acknowledged later to his intimate friends that he should not forget that look as long as he lived.

"The Sovereign has visited the pavilion for the third time!" said the Chamberlain, to the Hereditary Prince, who was sitting in his room with his throat tied up. The Prince looked down on the book which was lying before him.

"Do the guests seem to like their residence here?"

"I cannot say that of the Professor's wife: I fear she is placed in a difficult position here. The marked distinction which his Highness shows her, and certain old recollections which attach to the pavilion----"

The Prince rose, and looked so indignantly at the Chamberlain that he became mute.

"The Sovereign was very ungracious to-day," he continued, in a depressed tone. "When I reported to him concerning your Highness's health, I met with a reception which was not encouraging."

The Hereditary Prince approached the window.

"The air is mild, Weidegg; I shall endeavor to go out to-morrow."

The Chamberlain was very uncertain how this decision of the Hereditary Prince would be received: he departed in silence.

When the Prince was alone, he tore the shawl from his shoulders and threw it on one side.

"Fool that I was! I wished to preserve her from gossip, and have exposed her to worse. I myself sit here in seclusion, and my father visits her in my stead. It was a cowardly device. If I cannot avert what is impending for this poor creature, I will play my part in the game that is beginning."

When the Prince on the following morning went to his father, the latter began, with calm coldness:

"I hear from strangers that you have the desire to obtain some knowledge of agriculture. The wish is sensible. I shall consider how you can find an opportunity to obtain this knowledge somewhere in the country. It will also be advantageous to your health, and will agree with your inclination for a quite poetic life."

"I shall do what my honored father bids me," replied the Hereditary Prince, and left the room.

The Sovereign looked after him, and murmured:

"Not a word to be got out of him but cowardly submission; always the same submissive compliance. Not an eyelash moved when I ordered him to do what was unwelcome. Is it possible that this pliant boy is a master of dissimulation, and is deceiving me and all of us?"

If Ilse in spite of the distinction with which the Prince treated her, had a foreboding of the dark shadow which hung over the pavilion, far different was the tone of mind of her husband; he lived in the midst of the interesting investigations to which the museum gave rise, and the poetry of his earnest mind worked busily, and cast a brilliant l.u.s.tre over his sojourn in the capital. He was a hunter who trod with light step over his hunting ground, breathing the pure mountain air, whilst around him the rays of the sun gilded the mossy ground and heather. The time had now come when that of which he had dreamt for years was within reach of his hand. It is true the new track of the ma.n.u.script remained indistinct. The fate of that chest which had been mentioned in the old letter could not be ascertained. In the Prince's library, and in a collection of books in the city, there were found neither ma.n.u.scripts nor other books which could be ranked among the possessions of the monastery of Rossau. He had renewed his acquaintance with the head-forester, but the latter could think of no place where old hunting implements were kept. He went through old catalogues of the Marshal's office, and nowhere could the chest be discovered. But it was more strange still that the name of a royal castle Solitude was quite unknown in the capital. The castle, like one in an old legend, had vanished. But, strange as this circ.u.mstance was, yet the account of the student had won for this old letter of the official an importance which gave the searcher hopes of a good result. For only a few years ago some one, who knew little of the value of such a narrative, had seen the Rossau chest. It was no longer a deceptive image from a distant past; on any day a lucky accident might lead him to it. But when the Professor gazed on the slate roof of the royal castle, and ascended the grand steps, he had always a joyful presentiment that he was now near his treasure. With the help of the Castellan he had already examined the whole ground-floor of the castle; he had climbed up under the beams of the old roof like a marten, and had opened the old garrets, the keys of which had not turned for a generation. He had found nothing. But there were other houses belonging to the Sovereign in the town and neighborhood, and he was quite decided to examine one after the other secretly.

In this time of restless agitation, when his fancy was always opening new prospects, intercourse with agreeable persons was very refreshing.

He himself, in this state of excitement, proved a good companion, and observed with cheerful interest the proceedings of those about him. The Sovereign showed him great distinction, and the young n.o.blemen were very attentive; he took his place among them with dignity and without pretension.

The Chamberlain informed the Professor how much the Princess had been pleased with him, and Felix rejoiced when one forenoon she and her lady-in-waiting visited the museum, and begged for his guidance. When the Princess was going away, thanking him, she begged he would mention to her some books from which she could herself learn a little about that portion of the life of antiquity, the ruins connected with which he had shown her; she told him also of an ancient vase which she possessed, and asked him to come and see it.

The learned man was now standing with the Princess before the vase. He explained to her the subject of the pictures, and told her something about the old Greek pottery. The Princess led him into another room, and showed him some valuable sketches. "I wish you to see all I possess of objects of art." While he was examining these, she began, suddenly: "You have now learnt to know us a little, and how do you like us?"

"I have met with great kindness," replied the Professor, "which is agreeable to one's self-esteem; it gives me pleasure to observe a life so different from that of my circle and people, who are differently bred."

"In what do you find us differently bred?" asked the Princess, pressingly.

"The habit of acting your part fittingly at every moment, and maintaining your position among others, give persons an easy confidence, which always has a pleasant effect."

"That would be an advantage which we share with every tolerable actor,"

replied the Princess.

"At all events, it is an advantage always to play the same role."

"You think, therefore, it is no longer art if we become adepts in it, and act our part well," rejoined the Princess, smiling; "but in that also there is danger; we are from childhood so much accustomed to behave suitably, that it endangers our sincerity; we observe the effects of our words, and we soon think more of the good effect than of the purport of what is said. I myself, while talking with you, remark with pleasure how much I please you, yet I am nothing more than a poor princess. But if our aptness in presentation pleases you, in like manner we are attracted by a character that is calm and confident without attending to outward appearances; and perhaps a deficiency in the forms of society and the plain speaking of a powerful mind are interesting to us, if they do not wound our feelings, for on this point, we are sensitive. Whoever would wish to leave a pleasant impression, would do well to treat our pretensions with consideration.

I do not wish you to treat me so," she said, interrupting herself, "but I am solicitous on your account. Yesterday I heard you flatly contradicting my father. I beg of you to have regard for our weakness, for I hope that you are still to remain long with us."

The Professor bowed. "If I opposed his views more warmly than was necessary, it is because I lie under a temptation which is dangerous to men of my calling. Disputation is the weakness of men of learning."

"Good, we will reckon up our qualities one against the other. But you are in the happy position of always attacking things boldly; we, on the contrary, must be cautiously on the defensive. The great importance of external appearances is instilled into us from youth, and cannot be dispensed with. With you there is probably seldom any strife about precedence, and I fear it is quite immaterial to you what place you take in our degrees of rank; but these things are great events to us, not only to our Court, but still more to ourselves. Many of us are for days unhappy, because we have not taken our proper place, at dinner.

Many visits are discontinued on that account, old alliances are broken off, and there is frequent quarrelling behind the scenes. When we occasionally meet with clever people of your stamp, we ourselves laugh over these weaknesses, but few are free from them. I have already fought for my place at dinner, and made a great fuss about it," she added, with good-humored frankness.

"No one can entirely free himself from the ideas of his circle,"

replied the Professor, courteously. "A century ago there was the same tormenting eagerness about rank and social precedence among the citizens. With us it has become different since our life has been pervaded with a strong intellectual element. In the future, even at Court, people will laugh at these things as antiquated frippery."

The Princess raised her little finger threateningly. "Mr. Werner, that was spoken again as the learned man: it was not polite. For, though we move entirely in the track of fashion and of Court manners, we do not remain behind those from whom we are socially separated."