The Youth of the Great Elector Part 10

"Gabriel Nietzel, one word more!" called out the count, as the painter stood with his hand already upon the door k.n.o.b. He turned and slowly came back. "Master Gabriel Nietzel," continued the count, with a mocking laugh, "be so good as to give me the Electress's letter."

The painter drew forth his leather pocketbook, took out the open letter of recommendation, and handed it to the count.

But the latter smilingly rejected it. "You may keep that, master; I have already read that. The other, the second missive from the Electress, you must give me."

Gabriel Nietzel shrank back, and gazed into the count's large, glittering eyes.

"The other writing," he murmured, "the second writing?"

"Why, yes, master, that secret writing, which you have naturally promised to shield with the last drop of your blood, and to hand inviolate into the hands of the Electoral Prince. My G.o.d! we know how often such oaths are made, and that hardly one has ever been kept. You have not been made court painter for nothing, with your salary of fifty dollars, free rent, and two suits of clothes. You must give something in return. Give me that second writing of the Electress, the one which you have sworn to hand only to the Electoral Prince; or rather, no, you shall not forswear yourself. Just tell me where you have stuck it, and I shall take it for myself."

"Your excellency, it sticks in my left breast pocket," whispered Gabriel Nietzel. The count laughed aloud, and with one movement drew forth from Master Gabriel's left breast pocket a small packet, wound round with silken strings. With cautious hand, extremely solicitous not to break the string, he untied it, and took out the paper found beneath. Within this, indeed, lay a small, well-sealed letter.

"'To my dear son, the Electoral Prince Frederick William,'" read the count, with loud voice. "You see, I was not mistaken. It is the Electress's handwriting, and it is directed to the Electoral Prince."

"And I have solemnly sworn to give it into no other hands than his,"

murmured the painter.

"You shall keep your oath, Master Gabriel. Now go into the antechamber. My chamberlain awaits you there, and perhaps your fair Rebecca is also there already!"

"But my letter, your excellency--shall I not have my letter again?"

"Certainly, master, you shall have it again. In a half hour I shall come out myself and give it to you. Oh, fear nothing. The Prince will not suspect that any strange hand has touched it. Indeed, it concerns me very nearly that the Electoral Prince should put confidence in you, and be convinced of your honesty and good faith. Go now, master, I shall bring the secret epistle back to you unscathed, and put it again into your left breast pocket."

When Master Gabriel Nietzel had crept out slowly and sorrowfully, the count hastened to his writing table, took up flint, tinder, and steel, and made the sparks fly until one fired the tinder and made it glow. Now he held a splinter of wood to the glowing tinder, and by its flame lighted the wax taper in the golden candlestick. Then he quickly fetched, from a secret drawer of his writing table, a small knife with a fine thin blade, heated this at the light, and carefully and adroitly slipped it under the great electoral seal, which he carefully detached from the letter. He laid it carefully upon a small marble slab, and opened the letter. It was a very long, confidential communication from the Electress to her beloved son. With closest attention the count read it twice, and then with great pains folded it up again.

"It is just as I thought," he said softly to himself: "the Electress wishes the longer absence of her son. She intimates to him that she will not be displeased if he marries there, and even promises that she will soften his father's wrath. She counsels him not to come here, and warns him against the evil spirit who has ensnared his father's heart, and surely aims at the life of her dear and n.o.ble son. Well, it must be confessed, the Electress is on the right trail. Her mother's instinct gives her insight into the future, and makes her a prophetess. I know it very well, Electress: we two have never loved one another, and have carried on a bitter warfare against each other for twenty years, in which, however, G.o.d be thanked, Schwarzenberg has always come off victorious. I hope, too, it will continue to be so, and this letter will furnish me with a good weapon. I shall take a copy of it. Who knows what use I may make of it one of these days, and out of this paper fashion a dagger which may turn against the writer and against the receiver, if it reaches the hands of the Electoral Prince. Yes, I shall take a copy, and then restore the original to its envelope and affix the seal. And Master Gabriel shall take it to you, my dear Prince. Oh, take heed, and be upon your guard, Frederick William, for your respected mother is right. I am your evil spirit, and I can only stand if you fall; therefore, fall you must! Oh, I have learned much to-day, and received many a good lesson. 'It is better,' so said the Elector to me--'it is better that I have no son than a disobedient son, who resists my will.' But he shall resist you, Elector George William--he will be disobedient to you, and I shall do my part toward making him so. Then how said Count Lesle: 'If the son becomes the father's enemy, then it must be contrived to render the father the son's enemy; thus will the equilibrium be preserved.' Oh, my dear Count Lesle, I know very well the history of Philip of Spain and his disobedient and rebellious son Don Carlos. Take care, take care, Electoral Prince Frederick William, that you share not the fate of Don Carlos, and that your father punish you not as King Philip did his son!"

BOOK II.

I.--THE DOUBLE RENDEZVOUS.

The Princess Ludovicka Hollandine walked restlessly to and fro in her apartment. Sometimes she stopped at the window and listened intently; then, finding all without still dark and silent, she stepped back and continued her restless walk, at times listening again at door or window.

While pa.s.sing the great Venetian mirror on the wall, on both sides of which were placed two silver candlesticks with immense burning wax tapers, she caught sight of her image as brightly and distinctly as if it had been a portrait, and she drew nearer, like a connoisseur bent on examining a picture. She saw before her within the carved gilt framework a beautiful maiden's form, in sky-blue satin robe that fell in wide, heavy folds around her full and blooming figure. The low-necked bodice left wholly uncovered her dazzling white shoulders, and beneath the transparent gauze of her sleeves shone the fair white arms as from out a silver cloud. Her head rested proudly and gracefully upon the slender alabaster neck, and was crowned by a profusion of black hair, caught up behind in great loops, and fastened with bows of blue satin ribbon. On the broad and lofty brow it was ma.s.sed in the form of a diadem, with numberless pretty little ringlets. Her cheeks were pale, but of that clear, transparent paleness which has nothing in common with sickness and suffering, but is only peculiar to vehement, pa.s.sionate natures, with whom the cheeks are colorless, because all the blood concentrates in the heart. Her large dark eyes had at the same time a languid, melting expression and the fire and glow of pa.s.sion; the finely cut, slightly curved nose, the firm, somewhat projecting chin, indicated energy and decision; and around the full, rosy lips hovered a singular expression of good nature and frivolity.

She contemplated herself for a long time, then a well-pleased smile pa.s.sed over her fascinating countenance. "I am beautiful," she said, "yes, I am beautiful, and I believe those are right who suppose that I resemble my great-grand-mother, the beautiful Mary Stuart. O Mary! you beautiful, bewitching Queen--oh teach me the arts which won for you the hearts of all men; inspire me with the glow of pa.s.sion, let it flash forth from me in bright flames, and grant that these flames may kindle and fire the one I love, whom I will possess, and on whom all my hopes and desires are fixed!

But hush! did I not hear steps?"

She again hurried to the window and listened, holding her breath. A shrill, thrice-repeated whistle was heard, sounding strangely awful in the stillness of the night.

"It is he," murmured the Princess, "it is the concerted signal."

She took from a table standing near a package consisting of cords and knots, and unrolled it. It was a rope ladder, twisted artfully and durably of fine cords, and held together at the top by a strong iron ring. This ring the Princess now slipped over the iron hook which was fixed in the middle of the cross work of the window, and lowered the rope ladder, while at the same time, as if in answer, she repeated the whistle in the same manner. Then she bounded back from the window, flew through the room to both doors, a.s.sured herself that the bolts were secured, and with hasty hands dropped the curtains over them.

"No one can hear us, no one can see us, no one can get in here," she murmured; "he may come."

A slight rustling was heard below the window, then a dark ma.s.s appeared in the open s.p.a.ce, and a closely m.u.f.fled manly form jumped from the windowsill down into the apartment. Wholly enveloped in the folds of an ample black cloak, whose hood was thrown over the head and drawn far over the face, it was impossible to recognize the visitor's features.

The person thus disguised curiously and inquisitively turned his head to both sides of the room, strode rapidly across it, lifted the curtains from both doors, examined the fastenings of the bolts, went to the divan, peered under it, and, after completing this silent inspection of the chamber, returned to the window, loosened the cord from the hook, drew in the rope-ladder, and closed the window.

Princess Ludovicka Hollandine, standing in the middle of the apartment, had watched this singular demeanour on the part of the mysterious intruder with growing astonishment. She had first held out her arms to greet the expected, the longed-for, to press him to her beating heart, but, finding that he came not to embrace her, she had slowly dropped her arms again.

She had looked toward him with a tender glance, a fascinating smile, but when he hastened not to her, her glance had grown dark and her smile had vanished; and now, when he did approach her, she a.s.sumed an air of distant, proud reserve. He seemed not to see it, and, bending his knee before her, his head being still concealed, he pressed the hem of her garment reverentially to his lips.

"Most beautiful, most condescending of all princesses," he whispered softly, "I sue for pardon, for forgiveness."

The Princess shrank back, and a glowing flush overspread her cheeks. "My G.o.d!" she murmured, "that is not the voice--"

"Not the voice of the one whom your highness desires to see," said the kneeling figure, concluding her sentence for her. "Yes, most amiable Princess, your tender, sensitive heart is not deceived. I am not the Electoral Prince of Brandenburg. I am--"

"Count d'Entragues, the French amba.s.sador," cried the Princess, as the disguised man now threw back the hood of his mantle, and lifted up to her his youthfully handsome, smiling face.

"Scream not, most gracious lady," said he, hastily, "and do not scold me, either; but be merciful and forgive me. I lie here at your feet and entreat for pardon, and will not rise until you have granted it."

The Princess still kept her astonished and inquiring glance fixed upon him, but the sight of this handsome young man, disarmed her wrath.

"Stand up, Count d'Entragues," she said--"stand up and account to me for this daring crime."

"Your highness is right," returned he, "it is a daring crime, and only the extremest necessity could have driven me to this. I shall immediately therefore have the honor of explaining all this to the lovely, bewitching Princess Ludovicka Hollandine."

With youthful agility he arose from his knees, took off his cloak, which he carelessly threw into a corner of the apartment, and presented himself to the Princess in a gold-embroidered velvet suit, richly trimmed with lace and ribbons. Ludovicka fixed her large eyes upon the proud and dazzling apparition of the young count, and the angry flashing of her eyes softened.

"Sir Count," she said, imperiously, "without evasion and without circ.u.mlocution explain to me directly the meaning of this!"

"You permit me to do so, then, fairest Princess? You thereby empower me to remain a half hour in your charming presence?"

And while the count thus questioned, he took the hand of the Princess and covered it with kisses. Then, with graceful gallantry and solemn seriousness, as if they had been in the midst of a grand courtly a.s.semblage, he conducted her to the divan. There she seated herself, and he bowed before her with all the formality and obsequiousness of a courtier as he took his place beside her.

"Now your highness desires to know above all things how I can have dared to intrude here at so unusual an hour, and without the shadow of permission," he said with his mellifluous, insinuating voice. "Most gracious Princess, I confess that you are well justified in this curiosity, and I hasten to gratify it. Your grace expected a visitor indeed, but not the tiresome, unbidden Count d'Entragues--not the amba.s.sador and servant of King Louis XIII or Cardinal Richelieu, but you expected an eloquent, handsome young Prince, who loves the Princess Ludovicka Hollandine with pa.s.sionate enthusiasm, and to whom after long and vain entreaties she has at last granted a rendezvous."

"My G.o.d!" said the Princess, with an expression of horror, "how know you that, count?"

"My most gracious Princess, I have a magician in my service, who acquaints me with everything that happens here at court and, above all things, in the palace of the Queen of Bohemia, and first of all in the apartments of the Princess Ludovicka Hollandine."

"And the name of this magician is?"

"Ducato, sweetest Princess, Ducato. Ah! if you knew what dear, precious secrets this magician has imparted to me, how loquaciously he blabs out to me everything that the fairest Princess in the world thinks and does by day and by night! I know, for example, how the lovely Princess stays with her mother with ever so much seriousness, goes with her to church, visits respectfully the Stadtholder of Holland, and fondles and pets the little Princess Louise; how she carries on her studies, plays the lute, paints and sings. But, G.o.d be thanked! life consists not entirely of days, but happily has its nights likewise."

"What do you mean by that, Sir Count d'Entragues?"

"I mean," replied the Count, while he smilingly bent over closer to the Princess--"I mean that here at The Hague there is a wonderful, charming combination of young gentlemen and n.o.ble young ladies, who have laid themselves out expressly to embellish these nights, and to indemnify themselves for their somber, gloomy days by joyous, merry nights. It is a secret order, into which it is a distinguished honor to be received, and which is shrouded in deepest secrecy. Never would a lady own that she belongs to it, and yet they say that the fairest, most exalted, most virtuous ladies press to be received into this order. It is not known of any of the ladies of the court that they belong to it, but it is suspected of each. No one can say that he has seen this or that one among the n.o.ble and virtuous ladies there, for at all the reunions of the members of the order the ladies wear small half-masks, and it is the first and most sacred law of the order that no man dares to lay so much as a finger upon this mask--this precious secret of the ladies. Moreover, they appear only in Grecian robes, so that it is difficult to recognize the beautiful forms of the ladies again in their elaborate court dresses and with their stiff Fontanges. The name of this secret society is Media Nocte, and it is especially an honor to belong to it, for n.o.body is admitted who has not stood his probation--that is to say, shown that he has acquired considerable proficiency in some art, and excels in it. He, therefore, who can not sing or play on the lute, paint or improvise, speak eloquently, or by some gift contribute to the enjoyment of the company, can never arrive at the distinction of becoming a member of this order. When, therefore, it is whispered of a gentleman that he belongs to the order, he is supposed to be not merely an accomplished gentleman, but an entertaining companion, a favorite of the Muses. If this secret is whispered of a lady, then we look upon her with admiration, rapture, joy for we know that we have before us one of those choice, enchanting, and rare beings, who are exalted above all prejudice; who believe not, with zealots and ascetics, that we live only to die, but who joyfully acknowledge that we live to live, and, therefore, that the n.o.blest, worthiest task proposed is to render this life as pleasant as possible."

"Why do you tell me all this, dear count?" asked the Princess impatiently.

"It is true," replied he, smiling; "why should I tell you what you know already? I tell it to your highness in order to prove to you that I, thanks to my little magician Ducato, know the secret of the Media Nocte; I tell it to you in order now to whisper a secret in your ear: the Princess Ludovicka Hollandine belongs to the society, she is a member of the order of the Media Nocte."