CHAPTER IX.

HUSBAND AND WIFE.

Wilhelmine was now interrupted in her animated conversation with her reflection by the abrupt entrance of her "self-styled husband," the Chamberlain Rietz.

She saw him in the mirror, and she saw, too, how the friend with whom she had been conversing, colored with displeasure and frowned. Without rising, or even turning her head, she allowed the chamberlain to approach until he stood in front of her, and then she cried, in an imperious voice: "Where were my servants? Why do you come unannounced to my presence?"

Rietz, the king's chamberlain and factotum, laughed loudly. "For fear of being turned away, ma belle, and because I considered it more appropriate to come unannounced to my wife's presence. Once for all, my dearest, spare me this nonsense, and do not embitter our lives unnecessarily! Let your courtiers, your dukes, princes, counts, and professors, wait in the antechamber, and come announced, if you will, but you must receive me as you receive the king, that is, unannounced. On the other hand, I promise you, never to make use of this privilege when you are entertaining company, or are engaged in some agreeable little _tête-à-tête_. Are you satisfied? Is this agreed upon?"

"It shall be as you say," said Wilhelmine, pointing to a stool that stood near the sofa. "Seat yourself and let me know why you honor me with your presence."

But Rietz, instead of seating himself on the stool, proceeded with the greatest composure to roll forward a splendid arm-chair, on the back of which a royal coronet was emblazoned.

"I suppose I am entitled to use this chair when the king is not present," said he, seating himself; "moreover, I like to sit comfortably. Now, I am installed, and the conference between the two crowned heads can begin. Do you know, or have you the slightest conception of, what the subject of this conference will be?"

"No," replied Wilhelmine, placing her little foot with its gold-embroidered satin slipper on the stool, and regarding it complacently, "no, not the slightest, but I beg you to tell me quickly, as I am expecting company."

"Ah, expecting company! Then I will begin our conference, Carissima, by telling you to order your servant to inform your visitors that you have been suddenly taken ill and beg to be excused."

"Before giving this command I must first request you to give me your reasons."

"My reasons? Well, I will give you one reason instead of many. It might not be agreeable to your guests to have the glass from the window-panes and the stones which have shattered them flying about their heads in your parlor."

"My friend," said Wilhelmine, still regarding the tips of her feet, "if you feel an irresistible inclination to jest, you will find an appreciative audience among the lackeys in my antechamber."

"Thank you, I prefer to converse seriously with my wife in the parlor. But if you desire it I will ring for one of these impudent rascals, and order him, in your name, to admit no visitors. Moreover, it would be well to have the inner shutters of all the windows of your palace closed. The latter must, of course, be sacrificed, but the shutters will, at least, prevent the stones from entering your apartments and doing any further damage. Are your windows provided with shutters?"

"I see you are determined to continue this farce," said Wilhelmine, shrugging her shoulders. "Without doubt you have wagered with some one that you could alarm me, and the closing of the shutters is to be the evidence that you have won the wager. Such is the case, is it not?"

"No, Carissima, such is not the case, and I beg you to play the rôle of the undaunted heroine no longer; it becomes you very well, but you cannot excite my admiration and--"

"Nor have I any such intention," said she, leaning back on the sofa, and stretching herself like a tigress that appears to be quite exhausted, but is, nevertheless, ever ready to spring upon the enemy.

"Enough of this, my friend!" cried the chamberlain, impatiently. "Listen! If you consider it a bagatelle to have your palace demolished, and yourself accused of being a poisoner, it is, of course, all the same to me, and I have nothing more to say, except that I was a fool to consider it my duty to warn you, because we had formed an alliance, offensive and defensive, and because I could not look on calmly while your enemies were plotting your destruction."

The tigress had bounded from her lair, her eyes glowing with great excitement.

"You are in earnest, Rietz? This is not one of your jokes? My enemies are plotting my destruction! They are about to attack me! Speak, be quick! What was it you said about poisoning? Do they accuse me of being a poisoner?"

"Certainly they do, and I am glad that this magical word has recalled my sleeping beauty to life. Yes, your enemies accuse you of being a poisoner. It is truly fortunate that I have spies in every quarter, who bring me early intelligence of these little matters."

"And whom have I poisoned?"

"Countess Ingenheim, of course. Whom should you have poisoned but your rival?"

"My rival!" repeated Wilhelmine, with a contemptuous shrug of her shoulders. "Countess Ingenheim was ill. Is she worse?"

"Countess Ingenheim is dying!"

"Dying!" echoed Wilhelmine, and a ray of joy gleamed in the eyes of the tigress, but she quickly repressed it. "This is, of course, an exaggeration of the physicians, who will afterward attribute to themselves the merit of having effected her recovery from so hopeless a condition. I have heard of instances of this kind before. Four days ago the countess was comparatively well; I met her in the king's little box at the theatre, on which occasion her affability and condescension were truly surprising."

"Yes, and it is alleged by your enemies that you committed the crime on that very occasion. The countess complained of heat and thirst, did she not?"

"Yes, she did, and when she sank back in her chair, almost insensible, the king begged me to assist her."

"To which you replied that a composing powder was what she required, and that you, fortunately, always carried a box of these powders in your pocket. Hereupon you opened the door, and ordered one of the lackeys who stood in the entry to bring you a glass of water and some sugar. When he brought it, you took a small box from your pocket, and emptied a little paper of white powder into the water; when this foamed up, you handed the glass to the countess, who immediately drank its contents. Am I accurate?"

"You are, and I admire this accuracy all the more, because no one was present in the box but us three."

"You forget the lackey who brought the water, and saw you pour the powder into the glass. This morning the countess was suddenly attacked with a violent hemorrhage; whereupon the lackey immediately told her brother, Minister von Voss, the whole story. Her high connections and the entire court have been aroused, and if the countess should die to-day, as her physicians say she will, a storm will arise out of this glass of water, with the aid of which your enemies hope to hurl you from your eminence and consign you to prison."

"Foolish people!" said Wilhelmine, contemptuously. "The king will not only discredit their revelations, but will also hold them to a strict account for their slander. Let this be my care."

"My dearest, before proceeding to punish these slanderers, I would advise you to consider your own safety a little. I tell you this matter is graver than you suppose, my proud, undaunted lady. The whole pack is let loose, and Bischofswerder and Wöllner are lashing the conspirators on, and heaping fuel on the flames. They immediately convoked a meeting of the holy brotherhood, and issued a secret order. This order I have seen. You must know that I was received into this holy band some two weeks since, as serving brother of the outer temple halls. What do you think of the title, 'serving brother of the outer temple halls?'"

And the chamberlain burst into so loud and mocking a peal of laughter, that his colossal stature fairly trembled.

"Suppress your merriment for a moment, if you please, and tell me how this secret order of the Rosicrucians reads."

The chamberlain's countenance quickly assumed an air of gravity. "The order is as follows: 'All the brothers serving in the outer temple halls will repair, at ten o'clock this evening, to your palace, for the purpose of engaging in the charming recreation of battering your windows with the stones that lie piled up in great plenty in this vicinity, in places where the pavement is being renewed; while so occupied, they are to cry--'Murderess! poisoner! Curses upon her! Down with this murderess!' A charming chorus, my angel of innocence!"

"Yes, a chorus over which the angels in heaven will rejoice, even if they should not be such angels of innocence as I am in this affair. I thank you for this communication; it is really of great importance."

"I must, however, beg you, my dear madame, to take this fact into consideration. By making this communication, I not only imperil my salvation, but am probably already wholly lost, and have certainly forfeited all prospects of ever entering the sanctuary of the temple, and becoming an Invisible Brother. Each brother is required, on his admission, to register a fearful oath, to the effect that he will never, although his own life or that of his parents or children should be at stake, betray the secrets of the holy fathers; and I, frail mortal, have betrayed the confidence of my superiors! Alas, alas! I am a lost soul! The Invisible Fathers will expel me from the brotherhood if they should ever hear of this."

"Give yourself no disquiet, I will never betray you," said Wilhelmine, laughing. "I am only surprised that you should ever have been admitted into the brotherhood, and that such an order should have been issued in your presence."

"My fairest, they are not aware that the Mr. Müller of Oranienburg, who was received into the holy order by the general assembly some two weeks since, is no other than the veritable Chamberlain Rietz. You must know that it is impossible to recognize each other in these assemblies, as they are held in a mystical gloom, and that the brothers are known to each other when they meet in the world by certain words, signs, and pressures of the hand, only. My dear, twenty of these Rosicrucians might meet at a party, without dreaming that they were so closely connected. The names of all the brothers are known only to the circle directors, and I was of course not such a fool as to write my real name on the slip of paper which I deposited in the urn after having paid the admission-fee of four Fredericks d'or, and received in return the holy symbol of initiation in the solemn twilight of the outer temple halls. The exalted fathers, Bischofswerder and Wöllner, would be astonished, and any thing but delighted, to learn that I was present at the meeting of to-day, and was one of the favored individuals who heard the order given concerning the demolition of your palace."

"By all that I hold dear, these traitors shall pay dearly for this malice!" exclaimed Wilhelmine, frowning angrily. "This conflict must be brought to a conclusion. I am weary of this necessity of being constantly on the alert to guard against the stratagems and attacks of my enemies. I will have peace, and either _they_ or _I_ must be conquered."

"If I might be permitted to give the goddess Minerva my advice, I would say: 'Make peace with _these_ enemies, and secure the support and assistance of the dear Rosicrucians against your other enemies, the aristocrats and court conspirators.' Believe me, I give you this advice in all honesty and sincerity, and why should I not? Are we not allies, and have we not sworn to assist each other at all times and everywhere? In _this_ respect my charming wife has been a most excellent companion; she has kept her promises faithfully. Thanks to her assistance, I have attained all I desired, and there are few men who can say this of themselves. I desired influence, power, and money, and I have them all. By the king's favor I have achieved influence and power, and have amassed wealth by the folly of the persons sent me by you, my dearest, with their petitions for patents of nobility and decorations. In the three years of our reign I have created at least two hundred noblemen, and of this number twenty counts in the first year alone."

"Yes, indeed, these counts are well known," said Wilhelmine, laughing; "the gentlemen of the old nobility call them by no other name than 'the batch of 1786.'"[53]

"Moreover, the number of crosses of St. John, and orders of the Eagle, conferred by me upon deserving individuals, is legion, and goodly sums of money have they brought into my coffers!" said Rietz, laughing. "I desired a well-provided table, at which I could entertain a few gentlemen of rank and convivial spirits; and now gentlemen of this stamp are only too anxious to obtain invitations to my dinners, and to enjoy the delicious pasties for which my French cook is so justly celebrated. I lead a life of enjoyment, and, as I am in a great measure indebted to your recommendation and patronage for this enjoyment, it is but natural that I should be grateful, and should endeavor to serve you to the best of my ability."

"I thank you, _cher ami_," said Wilhelmine, in kindly tones. "You, too, have always been a good and efficient friend, and it was partly through _your_ influence that my debts were paid, my income doubled, and myself made the mistress of this beautiful palace. I still desire a great many things, however. Yon are aware that I am so unfortunate as to be ambitious, and--"

"And, in your ear, the name Madame Rietz is not exactly the music of the spheres."

"Not exactly, my dear friend, although I must admit that the name is rather musical. But I--"

The door of the antechamber was hastily opened, and a lackey appeared on the threshold, holding in his hand a silver waiter on which a folded note lay.

"This note has just been left here for Chamberlain Rietz," said the lackey.

Rietz took the note and opened it. "Madame," said he, after the door had closed behind the servant, "madame, my worst fears are realized. Countess Ingenheim is dead!"

"Dead!" repeated Wilhelmine, shuddering. "Poor woman, she has paid dearly for her short-lived triumph, and those who assert that the poor person was poisoned, are probably right; the shame attendant upon her position, her pangs of conscience and her remorse--these were the drops of poison which she daily imbibed, and of which she has now died. Truly, to be the beloved of a king requires a firm heart and very strong nerves. Poor woman, I pity her!"

"Truly, you are worthy of the greatest admiration," said Rietz. "You lament the sad fate of your rival, while you yourself are in the greatest danger on her account. You must now decide whether you will receive your company or not."

"Oh, my friend," sighed Wilhelmine, "how can you suppose me capable of indulging in the delights of social intercourse at a time when I have suffered so sad a loss? No, the king's grief is my grief also, and instead of being merry and laughing with others, I will weep with the royal widower."

"You are an incomparable woman," cried Rietz, with a loud peal of laughter; "as wise, as beautiful, as much the demon as the angel! No wonder you are fearless! Your power rests on an adamantine foundation."

Wilhelmine made no response, but rang the bell, and told the servant who answered her call, to inform the porter that no soirée would take place that evening, and that he was to tell all visitors that mourning for the sudden death of Countess Ingenheim would compel her to forego the pleasure of seeing them for that evening and the following week.

"I beg you to leave me now, my friend," said Wilhelmine, beginning to divest herself of the sparkling jewels that encircled her neck and arms. "I must hasten to lay aside these worldly garments, in order that the king may find me attired in sable robes when he arrives."

"How! Do you believe the king will visit you at a time when his wife of the left hand has but just breathed her last?"

"I feel assured that he will. His majesty knows how deep an interest I take in all that concerns him. He knows where to look for sympathy; he knows that I laugh with him when he is glad, and weep with him when he is sad. To whom should he flee in his hour of grief but to me?"

"You are right," said Rietz, smiling, "to whom should he flee, in his hour of grief, but to his first sultana? I am going, and I truly promise you that if his majesty, in the depth of his grief, should chance to be forgetful of this haven of rest, I will suggest it to our dear, chastened king."

"Do so, my friend, and hasten to his majesty's side, or my enemies will forestall you, and perhaps console the king in a different manner."

"I am going, sultana. But these shutters--shall I order them to be closed?"

"And why, pray? I am not afraid of a few stones, and if they should be showered upon us too plentifully, we can retire to one of the back rooms and observe the bombardment in perfect security. When did you say it was to begin?"

"As soon as it has grown dark; the deeds of these pious fathers shun the light of day. The calendar says moonlight until ten o'clock; it is therefore probable that the sovereign people, as the rabble of Paris now calls itself, will not honor you with a call until that hour. It would be well to notify the police of the flattering attentions awaiting you, and to solicit a guard for the protection of your palace."

"I will take good care not to do so," rejoined Wilhelmine, smiling. "Let the sovereign people amuse themselves by breaking my windows if they choose. The louder they howl and call me poisoner the better, for the king will hear them and he will pity me."

"Wilhelmine," cried Rietz with enthusiasm, "it is a pity you are already my wife; if you were not I should certainly address you. I could love you to distraction!"

"Do not, my friend, I pray you," said Wilhelmine; "you would cut but a sorry figure in the rôle of a disconsolate lover. But now go; it is already eight o'clock, and I hear a great many carriages coming and going."

The chamberlain pressed her beautiful hand to his lips, and then took his departure. She regarded him with a contemptuous smile as he left the room, and when the door had closed behind him, a clear and ringing peal of laughter escaped her lips. "To think that this Caliban has the honor of being called my husband," said she, "and that I am still the wife of a valet! And why? Merely because I am not of noble birth, like--like these sensitive puppets, whose shame is garnished over with noble titles and robes of ermine, and who nevertheless succumb and die under the burden of their self-acquired dignities. I can bear the precious burden! I--will not die! No, not I!"