The Youth of the Great Elector Part 23

And already the count's hand was stretched forth to take his silver whistle. But Gabriel Nietzel dared to grasp this hand and hold it firmly between both his own.

"Pity, gracious sir, pity!" he pleaded. "Drive me from your presence, take from me the pension you most condescendingly insured to me; I feel that I am indeed undeserving of your favor and graciousness. Only, for pity's sake, for humanity's sake, restore to me my own--give me my wife and child!"

"What have I to do with your wife and child?" asked Count Schwarzenberg angrily. "Have you handed them over to me? Am I the chief of an asylum for deserted women and children?"

"My wife, Sir Count, give me back my wife!" cried Gabriel Nietzel, sinking down upon his knees.

"I know nothing about her, I have never seen her," said the count.

"You do know about her, your excellency! You took her and my dear, precious child under your protection when I went to The Hague. You had my wife and child carried to, Spandow, and gave them an abode within your palace there."

"Now I see plainly that you speak like a deranged man, Master Gabriel Nietzel," cried the count pa.s.sionately. "Collect your faculties, man, or I shall immediately have you arrested and sent to a madhouse. I repeat, collect your faculties, and utter not such palpably idle tales. Very likely that I should have taken your wife and child into my keeping.

Bethink yourself, Master Gabriel Nietzel, be rational, and remember that you are happily uninc.u.mbered and a free bachelor!"

"No, no, I am not free!" shrieked Gabriel Nietzel. "I have a wife, I have a child, and see them again I must! Deliver them up to me, Sir Count. I beseech you by all that is sacred--deliver them up to me! I must have my wife and boy again!"

"Well then, go and look for them," said Schwarzenberg composedly "Apply to the police, and furnish them with a description of both their persons.

Show your marriage license and your child's certificate of baptism, that every one may be convinced of the truth of your deposition. Then write a description of your wife, or, as you are a painter, draw a likeness of her, publish her name and family, call upon her relatives to render you their a.s.sistance, and in that way, if you really have a wife, you will in the end succeed in discovering her."

"Sir Count, you well know that I can not do so," groaned Gabriel Nietzel.

"You well know that I am a poor, ruined man, entirely in your power. I beseech you, have mercy upon me! Restore to me my wife and child, and I will do all that you require of me. Give me back my wife, and I swear to you that I will do here what I was to have done on the journey. I swear to you that I will make good what I missed, that I--"

"I do not believe your oaths, Gabriel Nietzel," interposed the count. "You are liberal with your oaths and promises, but come short in deeds, in performances. n.o.body will pay for a picture before he has seen it, or at least a sketch of the same. Therefore take yourself off, devise a plan, sketch your outline, and bring it to me. If it pleases me, and is practicable, if I see that you are zealous and well disposed, then will I gladly aid you in its execution and pay you in princely style. That is my last word, Master Court Painter Gabriel Nietzel, and now go, and do not show your face here again until you can show me that sketch. You have understood me, have you not, Master Gabriel Nietzel? I bespeak a picture, and you are to furnish me with a sketch of it; then, as you are in want, I shall gladly pay you for it in advance."

"Yes, I have understood your lordship," said Gabriel Nietzel, heaving a deep sigh. "I know a subject for the painting you have ordered, and will make a sketch of it. You shall not have to wait long for it."

"It is a fine subject," said Schwarzenberg quietly. "We might call it the murder of Julius Caesar."

"No, it is the execution of the Emperor Conrad III--the execution and murder of the last Hohen-Hohenstaufen," sobbed the painter, while tears fell in clear streams from his eyes.

"I believe another paroxysm of insanity has seized you," said the count contemptuously. "How can any one weep merely because he will represent a tragic scene? What is the last of the Hohenstaufens to you? You depict his death, and if the painting is a success I shall reward you handsomely for it, give you a splendid income, and then you can go to Italy, the home of all artists, to spend the remainder of your life there in pleasure and freedom."

"It shall be just as your excellency says," sighed Gabriel. "Only, your excellency, only be so gracious as to give me back my wife and child."

"I said so, your paroxysm of madness is coming on afresh!" cried Schwarzenberg, shrugging his shoulders. "Man, are you really beside yourself?--have you lost your senses? Do you demand your wife and child of me, of Count Adam von Schwarzenberg, the Stadtholder in the Mark? Go away with your follies. Be off, so that you can make your sketch, and when you come back, and it is good, you will perhaps find me inclined to answer all your silly questions for you!"

"Sir Count, oh, for G.o.d's sake, let me at least see my Rebecca once more!"

"Rebecca! your wife's name is Rebecca? Why, that really sounds as if she were a Jewess. And you say that she is your wife? Ah, repeat that again, then name the priest who celebrated your nuptials and united a Christian to a Jewess! By ----! I shall bring this evildoer to a strict account, and he shall be degraded from his office as a criminal and blot upon the Church, for he has sinned against G.o.d, the Church, and his Sovereign!

Gabriel Nietzel, name the priest who married you to a Jewess!"

"I can not name him," murmured Nietzel, almost inaudibly. "Sir Count, I will be obedient and diligent in your service. I am a wretched sinner, and must expiate my crime. I shall do penance, too, and will be nothing more than a tool in your hands. Only have mercy upon me. Let me at least see my wife and child, if I may not speak to them! I only wish to see them, in order to gain courage and strength for my difficult and dangerous undertaking."

The count reflected for a moment, his eyes fastened upon Gabriel Nietzel's countenance, whose imploring, anxious expression seemed to touch him.

"I have in my house at Spandow," he said, after a long pause, "a beautiful painting by Albrecht Durer. It was, unfortunately, a little injured in the transportation, and you shall restore it for me. To-morrow morning repair to Spandow, and ask for me. I shall be there, and will myself put the painting in your charge. Perhaps you will see there another painting besides, which will please you, and which, perhaps, is not unknown to you."

Gabriel Nietzel took the count's proffered hand, and with joyful impatience pressed it to his lips. "Sir Count, I will be your servant, your slave, your creature. I will d.a.m.n my soul for you and suffer the torture of perpetual flames if you will only give back to me my wife and child!"

"Master Court Painter," said Schwarzenberg, parodying his words, "I shall make you a rich and distinguished man. I shall send you to Italy, and you will enjoy the heavenly fires of the Italian sky, if you will only bring me the sketch ordered, and prove to me that you are in earnest as to its execution."

Gabriel Nietzel laughed aloud in the joy of his heart.

"Your highness shall not have long to wait. I will very soon have the sketch at your excellency's disposal."

"We shall see," said the count, with a slight nod of his head. "And now that we have understood one another, and you have somewhat recovered your reason, now for the last time I tell you, you are dismissed!"

Gabriel Nietzel bowed low, and strode through the apartment toward the door of entrance, reverentially going backward that he might not turn his back upon the high-born, all-powerful count. He had almost reached the door, when it was opened and a valet appeared, who announced in a loud voice:

"His honor Count John Adolphus von Schwarzenberg!"

"My son!" exclaimed the count. "He has returned? Where is he? Where?"

"His honor has just gone to his apartments to divest himself of his traveling clothes, but with your highness's permission he will be here in a few minutes."

"Tell the count, that I expect him with impatience," cried the father. The valet hurried out, and Gabriel Nietzel was in the act of following him, when Schwarzenberg called him back.

"Do not go out that way now," he said; "my son is coming, and it is not worth while for him to see you. Go through yonder door. It leads to a corridor, and there you will find a small staircase by which you can descend to the court. Go!"

II.--COUNT JOHN ADOLPHUS VON SCHWARZENBERG.

"I think I have distressed and tormented him enough," said the count to himself; "he will devise some means of gratifying my wishes, and in his despair will risk everything in order to obtain his wife and child. It is well that men have hearts, for they supply the most convenient handles for seizing hold of them and managing them. And for that reason men without susceptible hearts always become rulers, conquerors. Therefore have I become great and powerful, and will ascend yet higher, grow yet more mighty, for I, thank G.o.d! I have no heart! I have never been a victim to the silly vagaries of an enamored heart, never made a fool of myself for any woman; never have I felt my heart moved by any other desire than that of attaining a pre-eminent position and becoming a great man. Such I have become, but I would mount yet higher, and in this--in this that enamored fool Gabriel Nietzel shall a.s.sist me."

The count grew suddenly silent, and looked toward the door. In the antechamber he had heard the sound of a voice familiar and grateful to his ears, a voice which awakened in his breast a rare and unwonted feeling of joy and happiness. "My son," he murmured, "yes, it is my son. I really believe that I have a heart at last, for I feel it beat higher just now, and feel that it is a happiness to have a son!"

He hastily crossed the room, and had almost reached the door, when it suddenly opened and revealed the presence of a tall and slender young man, dressed in the elegant Spanish garb, such as was worn at the court of the German Emperor Ferdinand III.

"Father, dear father!" he cried, with a voice full of tenderness, and with outstretched arms he sped toward his father to press him to his heart.

Count Adam von Schwarzenberg smilingly submitted, and an infinite feeling of satisfaction penetrated his whole being under the warm pressure of his only son's embrace. But only one short instant did he yield to this sensation, for he was ashamed of his weakness, and gently extricated himself from his son's arms.

"Here you are again, you gadabout and rover!" he said; but he could not subdue the brighter glistening of his eyes, as they fastened themselves upon his son's handsome, spirited, and youthful face.

"Yes, here I am again, _cher et aimable pere_," exclaimed the young man, laughing; "but you do me great injustice by calling me a gadabout and rover, for, indeed, I have only traveled on most serious and proper business, and it strikes me that I am vastly to be feared and honored in my capacity of imperial treasurer and member of the Aulic council."

"What?" cried Count Adam joyfully, "the Emperor has conferred upon you such a high favor and honored you with such lofty t.i.tles?"

The young count nodded a.s.sent. "In me he has honored my father's son,"

said he, "and distinguished me out of veneration and respect for you."

"You are far too modest, my son," cried the count, smiling. "What the Emperor Ferdinand has done for you he did not for your father's son, but in deference to your own merits."

"Please, oh please, let us talk no more on the subject," said the young man. "You will not succeed in altering my opinion, especially as I had it from the exalted mouth of his Imperial Majesty himself, that he gladly distinguished the son of so n.o.ble, gifted, and faithful a servant as Count Adam Schwarzenberg had ever been to the imperial house, and in consideration thereof bestowed upon him the dignity of imperial treasurer, and nominated him independently of individual merit a member of the Aulic council. I beg you to observe, my n.o.ble and highly deserving count, that your son has fallen heir to his honors without individual merit, whence it naturally follows that I am a worthless treasurer, and wholly devoid of merit as a member of the Aulic council."

"Well," laughed his father, "then I must console you with this, Adolphus, that you are besides that my coadjutor in my office of Grand Master of the Knights of St. John, and that I entertain the fixed determination of soon seeing you share with me the Stadtholdership of the Mark."