Part 3

_Heinrich_ at last could not resist inquiring into the conditions upon which he might be considered a tried servant of the order and be permitted to share these favors. For their agents in the world, these consisted of a novitiate of one year for the trial and practice of obedience, and another year of voluntary residence and study in the college. As he already knew more than was taught in the Germanicum and Propaganda, he, of course, did not think of going through a school course; but the thought entered his mind that at the cost of a novitiate, which he already perceived would not be too strict, he could obtain information which might be of the greatest use to him in his career. He did not doubt that no one knew the world and mankind better than the all-observant, inquiring Jesuits; and they did not neglect to represent the principal European states and courts as a department of their restless and manifold branches of labor. He was assured that he could graduate from no better school of diplomacy than the quiet Jesuit convent, and it seemed to him well worth the trouble of shutting himself up here for a year, to emerge such a brilliant personage as his admired Severinus. The priests gave him plainly to understand that his novitiate would be only a name, for they had too much knowledge of human nature to repel a young man of the world, like Ottmar, by the prospect of monastic austerities. This promised indulgence was by no means contrary to the rules of the order, since Ottmar was not to be trained for priesthood, but the world, and therefore must be considered as a guest rather than a pupil of the Germanicum. He possessed the entire confidence of the fathers, for first from courtesy to his hospitable hosts, and afterwards from prudence, he had been silent in regard to his differences of opinion, but showed a sincere appreciation of some of their institutions, which they naturally mistook for devotion to the order. The principal reason was that his father was known to have been a devout Catholic, a circumstance which so completely deceived the holy fathers, that _Heinrich_ had no occasion to do anything but keep silence and submit patiently to the rules of the order to enjoy all the advantages of this rare confidence. The temptation was too great, he had been too long accustomed to yield to every caprice, every fancy, to be punctilious about the concessions of his own convictions he would be compelled to make, and decided to enter the Casa al Gesu. The Jesuits were extremely delighted with their new conquest; for they hoped to make the unusually gifted young man an agent for Germany, particularly the Protestant court of H----, which had hitherto been closed against their influence. They willingly acceded to _Heinrich's_ desire to enter the college under another name; for it was of importance to them that his stay should remain unknown, that he might afterwards act in their cause with fewer impediments.

Thus the first step was taken on the path of deceit which his blind egotism considered the speediest road to the goal, and upon which a man always enters when he lacks the self-denial to make his opinions his rule of conduct. Many a favorite of fortune is a miserable egotist, and passes for a man of honor only because his fate has never chanced to bring him in conflict with his selfishness; had such been the case he would quickly have lost his cheaply-won fame. Thus it fared with _Heinrich_ at a time when his acts and conduct were not yet burdened with any responsibility or visible result. His proceeding had no objective importance because he had not as yet gained any influence as a public character, or formed any political relations. In his view he committed no treason against the party to which in his own mind, though not formally, he belonged, by depriving it for another year of the man who was nothing to it. The point in question did not concern an actual change of opinion,--for when he once entered the world he would be faithful to his long-chosen colors,--but the attainment of a purely personal advantage. It did not occur to his inexperienced mind that, as a member of the party, he would be responsible to his followers not only for his future but the past. He did not shrink from abusing the confidence of the holy fathers, because he thought himself morally justified in using for his own advantage men who merely wished to make him a source of profit to themselves. It was doubtless repugnant to him to feign a faith he did not possess, but he was filled with admiration for various different individuals of the order, always felt happy with them, and in truth was indifferent to what religion they belonged, for he had, as previously mentioned, the toleration of carelessness. To him all confession was a mere phenomenon of historical culture. The pious exercises were empty pantomimes, on whose performance nothing depended except the approval of the fathers, and they were all the easier because he had grown up among Catholic ceremonies. The political and social influence of the Jesuits he considered too feeble for him to fear that he should ever be placed in a situation where he would be compelled to oppose it. But he was to learn too late how terribly he had erred.

Thus his novitiate began, and what he had once undertaken he carried into execution most persistently. He appeared to be a most obedient, zealous pupil, and succeeded in blinding the good fathers so completely that, to serve their own ends, they gave him instruction in everything that could win him esteem at courts,--the most accurate information about all personal and diplomatic relations, the royal families, reports made by the emissaries of the Jesuits in every country, a quantity of secrets whose judicious use must procure him a great influence, and, in short, impressed their whole sophistical moral teachings upon his mind. But with these things, so important to him, he learned something which was to destroy the anticipated result of their efforts,--to undervalue the order more and more. The more equivocal and selfish these motives seemed to him, the more he thought himself justified in deceiving them and casting aside the claims of gratitude. He perceived with terror what an influence the Jesuits exerted over everything; how relentlessly, with a thousand weapons, they subdued everything that he numbered among the greatest intellectual blessings in the world. The farther he penetrated into their mysteries the greater his repugnance became, and the more distinctly he saw the wide gulf which lay between him and Jesuitism.

When the first year of study was drawing to a close, he formed the resolution to seize upon the first good pretext to release himself from the distasteful bonds into which, with youthful carelessness, he had entered. He did not wish to burden himself with any further obligations, which he now knew he should never discharge. But he was too familiar with the power to which he had committed himself, not to be aware that an open breach with the Jesuits might make his career impossible, perhaps destroy his whole future. Therefore it seemed to him unavoidable to keep friends with them for the present, and under his father's authority he had already learned to submit to such "necessities."

Thus he must find a pretext which would apparently compel him to sacrifice the second year of study and leave the Casa al Gesu before its commencement. The moment was favorable to him. It happened that the government of H---- took certain decisive steps against the Jesuits' intended settlement in that principality, which aroused the greatest excitement among the whole order. _Heinrich_ took advantage of this opportunity. With remarkable address he induced the fathers to send him to H---- in order to ascertain the actual state of affairs, and in their interests begin as quickly as possible the career for which they considered him sufficiently mature. The expectations which the priests placed upon him justified this step; for he had increased and strengthened them by an act which usually requires the greatest readiness for self-sacrifice, he had at the expiration of his novitiate presented to the order a sum of ten thousand thalers. The holy fathers did not suspect that it was the payment by which he wished to relieve his conscience from every burden of gratitude, that with it he paid for his residence and instruction as he would have defrayed the expenses of his studies at a university, because, as a man of aristocratic disposition, he wished to be in debt for nothing. So they took for an act of devotion what was really an effort to obtain moral freedom, and their confidence in the man who had made such a sacrifice for them became as great as is possible for the cautious, circumspect Jesuits. So they allowed him to set out.

"Become a diplomat and act for us; practice the arts of the world to serve the cause of Heaven," they said, when they bade him farewell. And he thought, with a sarcastic smile, "I will become a diplomat not to serve Heaven, but myself." On returning to his home, his rank and striking character made it easy for him to begin a diplomatic career.

The government of H---- was Protestant and liberal. He therefore carefully concealed the fact of his stay in the Jesuit college, and, with his large means, succeeded in a few years in raising himself to a lofty position. He became councillor of the legation, a friend of the minister, a favorite at court, and now stood upon the height from which he could begin to discharge his debt to the order, and the admonition was not delayed. The point in question, of course, related to procuring admittance into the country for, and also extending the privileges of, the ubiquitous Jesuits.

Ottmar was to introduce these claims--and did not. The moment had arrived when he must break with the order openly and forever. Now, for the first time, he perceived the danger resulting from the step. Ought he to become the representative of a faith which he denied, and during his stay in Rome had found utterly irreconcilable with his opinions? Was it to become the shibboleth, which would betray the earlier associations he had so carefully concealed, perhaps forever crush his aspirations to obtain a portfolio in the government of H----? At this price the year of study in the college had been too dearly bought. Should he, on the other hand, forfeit the powerful assistance of the Jesuits, and make unrelenting enemies where he had formerly possessed trusting friends?

The outward advantages of the two courses to be chosen seemed tolerably equal; his convictions of right must turn the scale, and did so. In vain were the more and more vehement warnings that followed. He wished to make the unfettered tendency of his intellect the guide of his life, and deserted the teachings and struggles of the order; for there still remained in him a remnant of that feeling of duty which commands men to oppose what they consider false and pernicious.

But vengeance was not delayed.

_Heinrich_ soon felt that his position in the government and at court was no longer the same. While hitherto, from the prince down to his humblest subject, the greatest respect, even admiration, had been paid him, he now suddenly found himself eyed distrustfully, and even avoided, without being able to discover a reason. Formerly no important measure had been taken upon which the minister had not privately requested his counsel, now the latter enveloped himself in a cloak of cold reserve. Thus days and weeks elapsed, leaving him in a most distasteful position.

But one person at the court remained the same towards him: his patroness, the niece of the widowed prince, Princess Ottilie, an ethereal vision, who combined the haughty grace of a born aristocrat with the charms of a feeling soul. In her he possessed a true friend, whom he honored as a higher being; nay, he was often inclined to believe he loved her, although not even the faintest wish to possess her had ever arisen in his mind. All real merit was attracted to the princess, and she won every one by her poetic mind and clear intellect, as well as the charms of her maidenly character, although she had already passed her first youth. She had distinguished Ottmar beyond all others at the court, but for some time she had been unable to receive him. It was reported that Ottilie was ill, and in his very uncomfortable situation he was totally bereft of counsel and consolation.

IV.

A GUARDIAN ANGEL.

At last a court ball was given, and _Henri_,--for it was _Henri_ who went to balls,--who was always the star that dazzled all eyes, found himself as much neglected as ever. Only the members of the court who were suspected of ultramontanism approached him with mysterious cordiality; and whenever a number of observers were present, some persons whom he knew to belong to the ranks of his worst enemies cast strange glances at him which could scarcely fail to be noticed. Infuriated by this irritating and to him incomprehensible conduct, he turned to the young girls to pass away a few moments in their society; but the first whom he approached, a distant relative, drew back with mingled sorrow and alarm. He laughingly seized the little finger of her outstretched hand and drew her into a window corner. "Why do you avoid me, little Elsie? What have I done to harm you?" he asked.

"Oh, go away, you are a Jesuit!" whispered the girl, half timidly, half sullenly.

"Ah!" A flush slowly mounted into _Henri's_ face, but without the slightest change of countenance he pushed a gold bracelet which had slipped down to the young girl's wrist so far up the rounded limb that for the first time in her life she shrank from the sight of her bare arm.

"Do you know that a Jesuit is something so very bad?"

"No," was the embarrassed reply. "I only know it is--must be--something you ought not to be; or else you would not do it so secretly." The young girl paused.

"Well, and who told you this?" asked _Henri_, in the greatest suspense, gazing so steadily and firmly into the large childlike eyes, that she continued in the greatest bewilderment.

"Why, Herr von Neuenburg told my mother so, and she was very unhappy about it, and they both said you could not be trusted any more. Now you know, let me go. Oh, dear, I ought not to have said anything about it!"

With these words she ran away, and his smiles fled with her. It was no longer the careless, jesting _Henri_, but _Heinrich_ who stood haughtily erect in the alcove surveying the assembly with cold, contemptuous glances.

"These people wish to be diplomats, and discuss such important matters before children! Fortunately, I know you well enough to perceive that this rumor proceeds from you Jesuits. Oh, to be chained to such a life! to be forced to sacrifice all one's power for an honor the miserable breath of a liar's lips can blow away like dust! Is this life worth the trouble?"

"Not this life," murmured the fiend who was to help him "obtain." "You must enter a wider field, and mount higher and higher to a sphere where these petty intrigues can have no power over you; then only will you find rest."

These reflections, which were not by any means the first of the kind, were disturbed by the rustle of a dress, and when he looked up Princess Ottilie was standing before him. She gazed at him for a long time in silence, while he bowed low, murmuring a few words of apology for his absence of mind.

"Not so, Herr von Ottmar," she interrupted; "we already know that even when surrounded by the bustle of a crowd, you sometimes hold intercourse with your own thoughts; in any case, a much greater source of entertainment than society could offer you."

"Ah, your Highness, if society consisted of the elements united in my gracious princess, it would be the highest enjoyment to devote to it every power; but when people are compelled, like me, to wander perpetually, held aloof and misunderstood, through this labyrinth of pretensions, disappointments, and prejudices, they are sometimes glad to take refuge in the unsubstantial world of thought."

"But why do you not release yourself from surroundings so distasteful?" asked the princess. "Why do you not find strength to withdraw, if not to the world of spirits, at least to that of the intellect?"

"Your Highness," replied Ottmar, after a slight pause, "if I could take with me to that realm what has hitherto chained me to the court, how gladly would I resign this whirl of society! But so long as the object of my holiest longing is still clasped in the arms of the world, so long I will at least maintain a place near her, and fill it as well as I am able."

With these words he cast upon the princess one of the glances whose power he had so often tried. She involuntarily turned her head to see if any one could hear her.

"Herr von Ottmar," said she, and her voice became lower, her expression more sympathetic, "may I speak to you frankly?"

"Oh, my most gracious, benevolent friend!" murmured _Heinrich_, in a tone whose submissive devotion produced an irresistible influence upon the impressionable soul of the princess.

"Do not imagine that I have not perceived your design of winning me by flattery; I have read that, as well as your whole character. I am gracious enough to forgive you for placing the same estimate upon me as upon every other woman whom you may have misled by similar speeches. I forgive you, because I believe you to be greater than such arts would make you appear; you possess no false nature, and if you deceive it is only in cases which have no connection with your secret life, and no reality for you. Where you have to answer for yourself, your own established convictions, you will be true. I have this confidence in you, and therefore can calmly look on and see you make sport of the men and circumstances which, from your lofty stand-point, must appear so small; nay, I can even see you test your superiority over myself; and while I know all you say is false, am unable, I frankly confess, to resist the charm which your masterly acting exerts over me, and feel attracted towards you as the ignorant man is drawn to the artist whose skill he admires. Do not deny the truth of my assertion. Be noble; or, better still, show yourself to me as you really are, and confess I am right."

"Princess," cried Ottmar, "you are right. I grant that you have understood me; but I must oppose you in one thing, that I have been hypocritical to you. Ten minutes ago you might perhaps have termed me a flatterer, but now everything I said has become simple truth, and I should have far more to say to you if time and opportunity favored me." "I fear this is the last opportunity I shall have of speaking to you undisturbed, and therefore I speak now. I know you will not remain here under existing circumstances, and was not willing to have you go without taking with you on your weary way a word of conciliation, perhaps of warning; for you do not deserve the sentence passed upon you, and it grieves me deeply to see a noble, great-hearted man so misunderstood through his own fault."

"Has it already gone so far?" asked Ottmar, in surprise.

"Unfortunately, yes, my friend. You are considered a very dangerous man. Your enemies have decried you as a secret agent of the Jesuits, and at last placed before the prince proofs that you spent a year as a student in the Jesuit college at Rome. Your whole secret is betrayed." "And do they not suppose," replied Ottmar, "that the Jesuits would know how to guard such a secret better, unless it suited their interests to reveal it?"

"You must consider that you are at a _Protestant_ court. You have hitherto passed for a free-thinker, now you are discovered to be a pupil of the Jesuits. Thus one or the other must be false; people find themselves mistaken in you, and are so blindly enraged that they will believe your enemies rather than you. They consider everything you have done and are doing against the Jesuits to be merely a mask. The cordiality which several gentlemen, who are known to be adherents of the order, showed you this evening confirmed the prince still more in his opinion. You know his passionate temper; I have just heard a conversation between him and the minister which I have neither time nor inclination to repeat; but my conscience urged me to warn you, and--"

"And your heart, princess; it tells you that, spite of the equivocal part you see me play, I am a man of honor, who at any moment can cast aside hypocrisy and deceit as contemptible tools, and whom you can trust."

"I know not whether I may venture to do so. You were sincere with none, and I can only entreat you always to remember that falsehood is as dangerous as a poisonous dye, by means of which men often color things of trifling value, but which by constant use so pervades the atmosphere that they at last can no longer breathe in it themselves."

"Your Highness," whispered _Heinrich_, "let me at least know why, in spite of my faults, you can still feel so much sympathy for me."

"Because I have recognized your great talents, the conflict, the want of peace, in your soul; because I know that the contradictions which make you suspected by the world at large are rooted in the contrasts of your own nature; and because I cannot help feeling the deepest compassion for you," she said, at last, with an outburst of feeling, laying her hand carelessly upon his. Her voice rang upon _Heinrich's_ ear in tones of strange warning, and tears were glittering in her deep blue eyes as she continued: "Oh, there is something so noble, so godlike, in a true human soul, that when I see one struggling and battling in the prison of this earthly body, ensnared and tortured, my heart bleeds and I would fain extend my hands protectingly over the wildly fluttering wings, until the hour when it can free itself and soar away unfettered! We are observed. God be with you! Farewell!" She glided away and disappeared among the crowd.

"My Ideal spoke from her lips," said Ottmar, gazing after her.

A strange conflict now ensued between the opposing elements in his breast.

"She loves me; she, this noble creature, so full of intellect and feeling," said _Heinrich_. "She could not speak more distinctly, and what she concealed I read in her eyes, which absorbed my image in their blue depths and reflected it again, as the sun paints a Fata Morgana upon the clouds."

"And I," _Henri_ rejoined, "I feel ashamed and miserable when in her presence, for I can give her nothing in return for the treasures she brings me. I do not love her."

"And why not?" asked _Heinrich_. "Can she not make a man happy for his whole life? Does she not hold a lofty position, is she not as noble as she is intellectual, and has she not sufficient strength of mind to accept my hand, if I offer it, in spite of all intrigues?"

"True," replied _Henri_; "but she is neither young nor blooming, and is an invalid. How can I bind myself forever to one who has not the slightest personal charm for me? A beautiful soul and noble mind are phantoms, but a sickly body is the most comfortless reality, and a burden which I must drag about with me during my whole life. No: so long as I am still young I wish to enjoy this miserable life; when I am old and decrepit I shall have enough to do to bear my own ailments without the addition of an invalid wife."