Chapter 8

I.--THE YOUTHFUL SOVEREIGN.

The Elector George William had been gathered to his fathers. On the 1st of December in the year 1640 he had at last closed his weary eyes, and bidden farewell to a world which had brought him much grief and disquiet, little joy and repose, much mortification and disappointment, never a single triumph or solid satisfaction.

The Elector George William had been gathered to his fathers, and his son Frederick William was Elector now. Two melancholy years of privation and humiliation, resignation and oppression, had he passed at his father's side, ever suspected by him, ever watched with jealous eyes, and forcibly denied any participation in the administration of the government, ever struggling with care, even for daily food, and forced to borrow at usurious rates of interest to provide even a meager support for his little household. It had been a severe school, but Frederick William had passed through it with a brave spirit and cheerful determination. Across the dark and gloomy present his clear eye had ever been directed to the future, and hope had ever lingered at his side, holding him erect when overburdened by care, consoling him when vexed and humiliated by his father's unjust suspicions and ill will. Not unexpectedly had the Elector George William died; full two months before his summons came, the two physicians in ordinary, after holding a long consultation with the celebrated Königsberg doctors, announced to the Electoral Prince that the Elector was drawing near his end, and that his dropsy and insidious fever were slowly but inevitably causing death.

The Electoral Prince had had time, therefore, to prepare for the momentous hour which would call him from obscurity and inactivity--time to summon to him those whom he wished to have at his side in the critical hour. Up to the period of his father's death he had been an obedient, submissive son; yet he had well known that as soon as George William closed his eyes he would have to step into his place and be his successor. And he would be a worthy successor! That he had vowed, clasping his father's cold hand. He had told his mother so when, beside her husband's corpse, she had blessed him in his new dignity, and besought his protection and love for herself and her two daughters! Yes, he would be his father's worthy successor; he would force the world to respect him. Such were his thoughts as, on the day after his father's decease, he for the first time entered his cabinet, and seated himself before the great writing table at which the Elector had been wont to sit.

To the last day of his life George William had himself held the reins of government, and, in the timid jealousy of his heart, angrily refused all aid, all assistance. No one had dared to open and read the incoming rescripts nor to attend to neglected business.

On the table lay whole piles of unopened letters and rescripts, whole heaps of acts awaiting only the Electoral signature. Frederick William laid his hand on these acts which he had now to sign, and his large, deep-blue eyes were uplifted to Heaven.

"Lord!" he cried fervently--"Lord, make known to me the way in which I should go!"

These were the first words spoken by Frederick William on commencing his reign, and on seating himself before his father's cabinet table, which was now his own.

He took up the first of the sealed documents and opened it. It was a representation from the cities of Berlin and Cologne, whose magistrates implored the Elector to furnish them some redress for their affliction and want, and besought him, even now, to make peace with the Swedes, and to command the Stadtholder in the Mark to institute a milder government in the unhappy province. In heartrending words, they pictured the distresses of both wretched cities, which had so far declined that they had now hardly seven thousand inhabitants, while ten years ago they had numbered more than twenty thousand. "But fire, pillage, and oppressions," so the writing wound up, "have reduced us to the most extreme poverty. Many of the inhabitants have made haste to end their wretched lives by means of water, cord, or knife, and the rest are upon the point of forsaking their homes, with their wives and children, preferring exile to remaining longer in these cities, the abodes of pestilence and war. The Stadtholder in the Mark, however, feels no pity for our sufferings, and just recently, despite our entreaties, has had all the suburbs burned down, because the Swedish general Stallhansch was on the march against us. We most urgently entreat your highness to have compassion upon us in our low estate, and to instruct the Stadtholder to slacken the severity of his rule and to spare us in our grief." [29]

Sighing, Frederick William laid aside the melancholy writing, and took up the next in order. It was a petition from the town of Prenzlow, not less sad, not less moving than the first. The magistracy of Prenzlow likewise prayed for compassion and redress of grievances, and painted in moving words the misery of town and country. "Since," they wrote, "on account of the unhappy war existing, the fields hereabout had been lying idle for some years, such unheard-of scarcity had ensued that the people had not only been driven to making use of unusual articles of diet, such as dogs, cats, nay, even dead asses lying in the streets, but impelled by the fierce pangs of hunger, in town as well as in the country, had fallen upon, cooked, and devoured one another!" [30]

"Much to be pitied land, and much to be pitied Prince as well," sighed Frederick William. "A heavy, an almost intolerable burden of government has fallen upon my shoulders. God help me to sustain it worthily!" [31]

He stretched out his hand for a third paper, when the door opened and old Dietrich entered.

"Well, old man," asked the Elector, "what brings you here? And why is your old face so merry to-day?"

"Because I have something pleasant to communicate to your highness. The two gentlemen whom your honor has been expecting are here. Colonel von Burgsdorf and--"

"Leuchtmar?" joyfully inquired the Elector, and, upon Dietrich's assent, he hurried himself toward the door. But after he had already stretched out his hand to turn the knob, he paused and slowly resumed his place in the middle of the room.

"Who is in the antechamber, besides?" he asked.

"Your highness, there are also without the gentlemen whom you summoned to an audience, the Chamberlain von Schulenburg, Herr von Kroytz, Herr von Kospoth, and the jeweler Dusnack."

"Those gentlemen may wait. Desire Herr von Kalkhun to come in."

Dietrich withdrew to the antechamber. The Elector's eyes were fastened upon the door with an expression of joyful expectancy. When it opened, and the tall, slender form of his friend and preceptor became visible, he could restrain himself no longer, but, forgetting all ceremony, all etiquette, hurried with outspread arms to meet Leuchtmar, and impetuously clasped him to his breast.

"God be praised that I have you again!" he said, with a warm embrace. "Once more I have found a father and a faithful friend. Welcome, you man of loyal heart, with my whole soul I bid you welcome!"

"And you, most gracious sir," cried Leuchtmar, deeply moved, "may you ever receive blessings and good gifts from on high, and always deserve them by noble thoughts and deeds! Such shall be my prayer evening and morning, and your highness shall verify my petition."

"Amen! God grant it!" said Frederick William solemnly. "And now, look at me, my friend, and let me read in your features that you are the same as of old."

"The same as of old, indeed!" smiled Leuchtmar. "These two years have made an old man of me, and blanched my hair. I not merely longed after you, I grieved for you, knowing, as I did, what your grace had to bear and suffer. My heart was weighed down by grief and sorrow when I thought of what my beloved young master was undergoing."

"It is true," said Frederick William. "I have gone through hard trials and had many humiliations to endure. I have been treated as an adventurer and alien, unworthy of being employed or consulted. I was forever subjected to suspicion, and accused of coveting a throne before my time. If I asked after my father's health, he supposed I did so because I longed for his death; and if I made no inquiries, he accused me of indifference and want of natural affection. Alas! Leuchtmar, in the despair of my soul I have actually thought at times that the beggar on the street had an enviable fate compared with that of the Electoral Prince of Brandenburg--and--But hush! hush! I will no longer think of the past with bitterness and chagrin. Reproach against my father shall never pass my lips. He rests with God, and, as his soul has entered into everlasting rest, let us not stir up the ashes of memory, but let peace be between father and son, eternal peace! And now, my friend, be the past forgotten and blotted out, with all its pains and wounds, and to the present and future only be our thoughts dedicated. You are here; I have again my most trusted friend; and in this the very first hour of our reunion I will confess something to you, Leuchtmar, which you indeed have long since known, but which I in the arrogance of youth have sometimes denied. I now feel that Socrates was a wise man when he said, 'Our education begins with the first day of life, nor is complete upon the last.' Fate has indeed placed me in a difficult school, and I am conscious that I am far from possessing adequate attainments, and that there is still much for me to study and digest. Therefore, my friend, from you I demand aid, that I may study to some purpose, and that I may at least take position in the world and among posterity as a first-class scholar."

"Ah! most gracious sir," said Leuchtmar, smiling, "you are already more than that, and have in these two years of trial passed your _examen abiturientium_ with great distinction."

"And think you I am entered now as a student in the high school of knowledge? Yes, Leuchtmar, such is indeed the case, and since it may well be that at times I shall make false steps, and commit blunders through inadvertence or misunderstanding, I demand of you to point out to me my mistakes."

"But, your highness, I might myself be the one in error, and in my short-sightedness attempt to teach one much better acquainted with the subject than myself."

"In such case let us weigh and compare opinions, when, surely, we shall discover the right. Only promise me this one thing, Leuchtmar, that on all occasions you will speak the truth to me, according to the best of your knowledge and perception--that you will not conceal it from me, even when you may know that it will be irksome and disagreeable to me. Will you promise me this, my friend?"

"I promise it. I promise, if your highness requests the expression of my views and opinions, to give you the truth, according to the inmost convictions of my heart."

"No, Leuchtmar, in important matters you must give me your opinion, even when I have not asked for it."

"Well then, your highness, I promise that too."

"And on my side I promise always to listen patiently, and not to become angry and excited, even when our opinions disagree and you utterly oppose me. You smile and shake your head. Probably you think that I can not keep my promise."

"I do think so, your highness; yet I fear not, and shall courageously weather the storm. I am already old and have witnessed the gathering of many a tempest, have seen the clouds burst, and afterward seen the bright blue sky and cheerful sunshine again. I shall not fear, even though the thunder roar and growl, for the thunder has somewhat of the voice of God, and there is something exalted and majestic in the lightning's flash. Only, gracious sir, it must not strike, but content itself with harmless shining. Will you most kindly promise me thus much, gracious sir?"

"Am I Jupiter, that I hold the lightning in my hand, and can direct its stroke?"

"Yes, indeed, sir, Jupiter you are, in your native element, amid the flash of lightnings and the roar of thunder."

The Elector smiled. "Tell me, Leuchtmar, am I really then of so fiery a temperament and of so passionate a nature? Why do you not answer me? The truth, Leuchtmar, the truth!"

"Well, the truth is that your highness is of quite a fiery temperament and of a tolerably passionate nature. But you are not to blame for this, for it was entailed upon you with your Hohenzollern blood. You are the worthy descendant of your ancestor Albert Achilles; and be glad of this, sir, for by sluggish blood and soft complexion great things have never been accomplished."

"Then you expect me to accomplish great things?"

"Yes, your highness, such are indeed my expectations, and I glory in them!"

"We will talk of this hereafter, friend," said the Elector, gently shaking his head. "But now let us forget what I have become since yesterday, and consider that I have a heart, which is young still and full of love and ardor, despite all it has suffered. Two months ago, when the doctors told me that my dear father's case was hopeless, I dispatched secret messages to two friends, and requested them to come here and tarry in the neighborhood of Königsberg until I should have them summoned by a courier. I was not willing to vex my father in the least degree during his lifetime, and would not even see my friends in secret, but preferred to wait patiently until I could do so openly.[32] The two friends whom I sent for to be near me were Burgsdorf and yourself, my Leuchtmar. But to you I gave previously another commission. Have you executed it?"

"Yes, your highness, I have executed it."

"You have been to Holland? At The Hague and at Doornward?"

"I have been there, gracious sir!"

"You have been there," repeated Frederick William, drawing a deep breath. "O Leuchtmar! you men in private life are happy because you are free. You can go whither you will, and follow the dictates of your own hearts. But we, poor slaves to our position, must accommodate ourselves to circumstances, and patiently submit to the laws of necessity. How often has it seemed to me as if my longings could not be repressed, as if I must break all bonds and hasten to that free and happy land where the fairest days of my life were passed. How often, in reflecting upon the past, has it seemed as if a fire were kindled in my breast, mounting in clear flames to my head to lay my reason in ashes. But I durst not allow this, and with my own sighs extinguished the leaping flames, and, Leuchtmar, shall I confess it? At this moment I am cowardly, and speak so much, because--yes, because I lack the courage to ask one open question. But I will be bold and courageous, I will conquer my poor, foolish heart. Tell me, then, Leuchtmar, what I _must_ know! I sent you to Holland to obtain certain information with regard to the evil reports which have been circulated here. I gave no credit whatever to them, for I knew they were anxious that I should contract a certain marriage, and would therefore crush the love I was cherishing for another person. And yet this other lived within my heart, and when I closed my eyes I saw her before me in all her beauty and loveliness, and at night, when all the troubles of the day were over, and I was alone in my chamber, she was near me, speaking to me and consoling me with the sweet, kind words she whispered to my heart. Ah, you see, Leuchtmar, I am but a very young man, and--courage, courage! out with the question! Have you seen the Princess Ludovicka Hollandine?"

As Frederick William asked this question he walked to the window and turned his back to the room. A pause ensued, then Leuchtmar replied, in gentle, sorrowful tones, "No, gracious sir, I have not seen the Princess."

A shudder passed over the Prince's frame, but he did not turn around.

"Why did you not visit her? Why did you not see her, when I had commissioned you to speak with the Princess herself?"

"Most noble sir, I could not speak with the Princess, for she was no longer at The Hague."

"No longer in Holland?" asked the Elector, and his question sounded like a cry of grief wrung from a tortured heart. "Where was she then? Where was Ludovicka?"

"Most noble sir, you have imposed upon me the duty of always telling you the truth, but at this moment I feel it to be a difficult duty."

"Perform it, Leuchtmar, I require you to do so! Where was the Princess Ludovicka, if she was no longer with her mother?"

"Your highness, the Princess Ludovicka Hollandine has voluntarily forsaken her mother and her family, and at first they knew not whither she had gone."

"And do they know now?"

"The Electress of the Palatinate had received her first letter from the Princess the day before I waited upon her, and, as the Electress had ever honored me with her confidence, she communicated to me the contents of that letter."

"What were they? Quick, tell them quickly, that my heart may not break meanwhile. What was in the letter?"

"It said, most gracious sir, that of her own free will, and out of most tender love for the chosen of her heart, she had forsaken her mother's house because that Princess had refused her consent to her union with the man--these were her own words--with the man whom she loved above all others. It said, moreover, that the Princess had followed this man, the Count d'Entragues, to France, and that for the present she had withdrawn to a convent, preparatory to professing the Catholic religion and then marrying Count d'Entragues."[33]

The Elector uttered a hollow groan, and, putting both hands before his face, as if he were ashamed of what he felt, sank upon a chair, and sat long thus, breaking the silence with occasional sighs and groans.

Leuchtmar dared not interrupt this sacred silence even by a word, or to offer comfort to the agonized heart of the young Prince by words of consolation. He knew that strong heart must first vent its grief in order to gain repose, and that only from within could spring up that consolation which strengthens and sustains.

After a long pause, after a bitter inward conflict, Frederick William allowed his hands to drop, revealing a face pale as death and lips whose corners twitched convulsively.

"Leuchtmar," he said, "this is the baptism by which I am consecrated to my new office. It is, indeed, a baptism of tears, and has torn my wounded heart, I grant you. But such a baptism of tears was needed to wash from my heart all that could derogate from the lofty calling to which alone my whole being should be dedicated. No one on earth can accomplish anything great who has not first received a baptism of grief and tears. By such baptism the soul extricates itself from earthly wishes and selfish desires, and he who would be a thorough man and accomplish great things must be lord of himself, and have no wishes for himself, but to attain glory and honor! And so I now shake the past from my soul as a torn and tattered garment, and would despise myself if even a sensation of pain were left behind. No, no, I am free! My heart is coffined, and I shall close the lid and bid it an eternal farewell!"

"Your heart coffined, your highness!" said Leuchtmar gently. "You think so now, but I tell you it will again rise from the dead, and beat with full ardor and glow, for, God be thanked, the heart of man is a tenacious thing, and dies not from one dagger-thrust. Its wounds can be healed, and then it is so much the stronger because it knows what it can suffer and overcome!"

"Enough now, my friend, enough!" cried Frederick William, shaking his head so violently that his brown locks fluttered in wild disorder. "Thus I shake off an unworthy love and all vain lamentations. Now, Leuchtmar, I am the man, the Elector. A very young man, you will say, but one who has stood the brunt of battle and fire, who in days has lived through years, and consequently is old, for my twenty years count double. Baron von Leuchtmar, I have much to discuss with you, and I summoned you here for important consultations, but stay--a man is without whom I can keep waiting no longer, for his time is valuable, and he who makes a workman wait robs him of his capital. I beg you, Leuchtmar, to open the door and call the jeweler Dusnack."

Leuchtmar hastened to obey this order. As he turned toward the door Frederick William once more passed his hand rapidly over his face, and for a moment pressed it to his eyes. As he drew it away he felt a drop fall burning upon his hand, and it shone there like a bright diamond, but--his eyes were now dry and glittered with the fire of resolution.

"Well, Master Dusnack," exclaimed Frederick William to the approaching jeweler, "have you brought us, as directed, a few seal rings, from which to make our selection?"

"Here they are, your Electoral Highness," replied the jeweler, holding out a little box and handing it open to the Elector. Frederick William examined with interest the bright and sparkling rings, which were in separate compartments, and nodded kindly to the jeweler.

"You are a skillful workman, and your rings please me well," he said. "These things are tastefully designed and prettily executed. You must have very good workmen, and it pleases me that such things are made in our country. For I suppose, of course, these beautiful rings emanate from your own workshop."

"Most gracious sir, I would that it were so, and it is not my fault, indeed, that it is otherwise. I have been long in foreign lands and studied and worked in the first jewelry establishments of Paris. But I find no apprentices here capable of executing such artistic and delicate work, and can only have ordinary gold and silver ware made here, such as forks, spoons, mourning rings, and articles of that kind; but for my finer ornaments and such costly rings as these I must send to Paris and Lyons, where the goldsmith's art flourishes, while it is frightfully depressed here, both for the want of purchasers and artisans."

"Then we must see to it," said Frederick William, "that such times are ushered in, that men shall feel free to purchase golden trinkets, and that clever workers in gold be attracted here, in order that we may dispense with foreign manufactures. As soon as the times become somewhat more tranquil, we, too, will have need of goods of that sort, for not long since all the jewels of our house were stolen.[34] But I tell you, Master Dusnack, we shall only buy such things as have been designed and executed at home. Therefore exert yourself, and procure good workmen. For this time I must needs content myself with foreign wares and select a seal ring. I therefore take this one with the ruby, and you must engrave our country's coat of arms upon it without delay."

"Your highness's orders shall be obeyed," replied the jeweler respectfully. "Does your highness merely wish the coat of arms upon the seal, or would you like a motto added?"

"Yes, master, a motto shall be added, to run thus, 'Lord, make known to me the way in which I should go.' Will you write it down, master, that you may not forget it?"

"Your Electoral Highness, it is not necessary, for you have impressed it on my heart."

"Go then, master, and inscribe it for me right plainly on the stone."

The Elector turned to Baron Leuchtmar von Kalkhun as soon as the jeweler had taken his departure, saying, "Now for you, friend, and our plans of government."

II.--PLANS FOE THE FUTURE.

"Yes, friend, I want to discuss government affairs with you," continued the Elector, with a faint smile, sinking back in the armchair before the writing table. "Sit down, Leuchtmar, quite close to me, for I shall now disclose to you what no other mortal ear must hear; I shall reveal to you my thoughts and plans. Man is, after all, but a weak and tender creature, and it is a necessity with him to have some trusted soul on whom he can rely for sympathy, and to whom he can tell all that moves his inner being. To me, Leuchtmar, you are that trusted soul, and in this hour I will make known to you the inmost recesses of my heart. You shall learn who I am, what I think, and what are my aspirations, that you may always comprehend and appreciate me, standing with ever-ready succor at my side. For I hope you have no engagements elsewhere, and from this moment enter my service?"

"I have hitherto lived in quiet and retirement at Cologne on the Rhine, waiting for the hour which should summon me to my gracious master's presence, for you are the only Sovereign upon earth whom I would serve, and to you belong my being, thoughts, and all that in me is of energy and skill."

"I have counted on you, Leuchtmar, and well I knew that my reliance would not be in vain. You must aid and sustain me, for I stand in urgent need of wise friends, of diligent, faithful workers, in order to gain the goal which I have placed before me in the future, and to execute the schemes which I have planned. In the first place, Leuchtmar, do you know properly who I am?"

"Yes, your highness," replied Leuchtmar, smiling. "I think I know right well. You are the youthful hero, the Hercules to whom the gods have committed the twelve difficult tasks, that he may prove himself a demi-god, and who now begins his work with the zeal of courage and the inspiration of faith."

"The comparison may be slightly applicable," said the Elector, "and as far as the Augean stable is concerned. I, too, have my stable to cleanse; only it belongs not to Augias, but to Schwarzenberg. Still, I will try to purify it. But I must set about my undertaking with dexterous hands; of that, however, let us speak hereafter. I shall first consider your simile, drawn from the story of Hercules. Do you know, Leuchtmar, the names of my twelve tasks, and their extent? I ask you once more, do you know who I am, or, rather, what my name is? Look, there lies the document which I am just on the point of sending to my good subjects, and by means of which I shall notify them of my assumption of the reins of government. Just read the heading, Leuchtmar."

Leuchtmar took the paper handed him and read: "'We, Frederick William, Marquis of Brandenburg, Lord High Chancellor and Elector of the Holy Roman Empire, Duke of Prussia, Julich, Cleves, Stettin, Pomerania, Cassuben, and Vandalia, as also Duke of Silesia, Croatia, and Jägerndorf, Burgrave of Nuremberg, Prince of Rugen, Count of Markberg and Ravensberg, Baron of Ravenstein.'"

"Enough!" cried the Elector. "You have now read the outlines of my Herculean task, you now know who I am. A Prince of long titles, not one of which has its foundation in truth and reality. And this is my Herculean task, to make these titles real, and to give a good kernel to these empty nut shells. Look, Leuchtmar, there is a map. Let us examine it and compare it with my titles, for it is a map corresponding finely with these titles, and on which all the counties and provinces pertaining to them are designated. Marquis of Brandenburg, that is my first title, and you would naturally suppose that this, at least, was veritable, for the Mark is the oldest possession of our house, and my ancestor, the Burgrave Frederick von Nuremberg, was invested with it by the Emperor. But what do I obtain from the Mark? Friend and foe have quartered there, until they have changed it into a desert; famine and pestilence hold sway there, and the despairing inhabitants have left their fields untilled and wander about shelterless and hungry. The only prosperous man there, possessed of power and consideration, is the Stadtholder in the Mark, Count Adam von Schwarzenberg. The Mark suffers and groans, but he is of glad heart, and the distress of the people touches him not. What cares he for land or people, save in so far as they conduce to the furtherance of his own ends, and do you know what those ends are?"

"He is an Imperialist and a strict Catholic," said Leuchtmar, "and it must be confessed that he would rather see the whole Mark go to destruction than behold it Protestant and independent."

"Yes, he has let the Mark Brandenburg go to destruction!" cried the Elector, with flashing eyes. "Catholic and Imperialist he would have it. And I can not reach him, he knows very well that I must spare him, and that _he_, the powerful, opposes _me_, the powerless. To him have the commandants of the fortresses and the soldiers sworn allegiance; the Emperor protects him, and would esteem it an act of rebellion against imperial majesty itself if I were to depose Schwarzenberg from office. It would be a departure from the course pursued by the Mark for twenty years past, for, since Schwarzenberg has nourished as Stadtholder, the Emperor has been the real lord of the Mark, and not an order nor rescript ever issued from my father's cabinet to which the Emperor had not given his consent, or of which he had not previous knowledge. I must therefore for the present still suffer Schwarzenberg to be lord of the Mark, for I have not power to defy the Emperor and call down upon myself his rage. The Lord High Chancellor and Elector of the Holy Roman Empire must for the present bow humbly to the Emperor, and submit in silence to the evils of his lot. My duchy of Pomerania the Swedes have appropriated to themselves, and I can not, as I should like, wrest it from them by force of arms, for I have no weapons, no soldiers, no army; I must now try to come to an amicable understanding with them, and, if possible, make peace with them. In Julich and Cleves I am duke, too, as my title vouches, but to be so really I must first rescue these countries from the Dutch, and then be able to defend them against the cupidity of France. And my duchies of Silesia, Croatia, and Jägerndorf? The Emperor has taken possession of them as if they were his own fiefs, and he will be little likely to restore them to the powerless Elector of Brandenburg. Neither will the Saxons easily relinquish to the weak Elector Magdeburg and Halberstadt, which counties they hold enthralled. Alas! Leuchtmar, you see of all my vast possessions I only retain the empty titles."

"But one country your highness has omitted in your enumeration, and there, undoubtedly, you are undisputed Sovereign, no enemy having supplanted you in this land. You are Duke of Prussia, and there, at least, ruler also!"

"Yes, I am Duke of Prussia--that is to say, if King Wladislaus of Poland will condescend to invest me with this duchy, and allow me to go to Warsaw, humbly to kneel to swear allegiance to him, and acknowledge myself one of his vassals. Until he has done so, I am not the legalized ruler even here in Prussia, and the King of Poland will already consider it as an infringement upon his supremacy that I have not forthwith dismissed the Prussian chamber of deputies, which held its sitting in my father's lifetime, but allowed it to prolong its session. There, too, as at the imperial court, I must give fair words, must show myself humble and obedient, so as not to excite untimely enmity against myself, and rouse the mighty against the weak. For what refuge would remain to me, or where would I find support, if the Emperor of Germany and the King of Poland should threaten me with their enmity?"

"I should think the Swedes would be delighted to have your highness for an ally, to stand with them against the Emperor and the German Empire, and the States-General, too, would gladly give you the right hand of confederation."

"Oh, yes, the Swedes would gladly accept me as their ally, provided that I would voluntarily resign to them Pomerania and Rügen, renouncing all claim to these lands; and the States would gladly extend to me the right hand of fellowship, only I must have first laid down in this hand the duchies of Cleves and Julich as an offering of friendship! But such a thing would I never do, and never shall I peaceably resign the smallest strip of land that should be mine to purchase thereby repose for myself. Up to this time I have enjoyed only the title to my lands, but it must and shall be now the purpose of my whole life to substantiate these claims, and not merely to conquer back what is my own, but, an' it please God, to enlarge my territories and give to them unity and compactness. I am now a Prince only by my armorial bearings, but I _will_ be a veritable Prince. I now wear only the most delapidated semblance of a Prince's mantle, inflated by hollow wind, but I shall change it into a purple mantle, such as no German Prince would be ashamed of, which every one in the German Empire shall respect, yea, even the Emperor himself."

"And you will gain your end," cried Leuchtmar, "yes, you will gain it. It stands written on your lofty brow, it shines forth from your fiery eyes, and is spoken by every feature of your noble, energetic face. You will gain your end. From the confusion and chaos of the present times you will emerge as a distinguished, mighty Prince; out of nothingness and disorder you will construct a powerful state, and to your towering titles give a firm basis of strength and truth!"

"Amen! God grant it!" said Frederick William, piously lifting his large eyes to Heaven. "It seems now, indeed, as if it were an unattainable goal," he continued, after a pause, "and to no one else would I confess it, for I would only become the scorn and derision of my enemies."

"But the delight of your friends!" cried Leuchtmar, deeply moved, "the invigorator and uplifter of your friends!" "Friends, say you? Where are my friends? Look abroad throughout the whole German Empire, the whole of Europe, and then tell me where my friends are. I have not even friends in my next-door neighbors, not even in my nearest relations! Yes, were I rich and influential, had I protection to give and benefits to dispense, then would the Princes far and near gladly bethink themselves of the claims of consanguinity, and overwhelm me with civilities and attentions. But I am powerless, and they dread lest I should need their protection and their influence; therefore are they forgetful of family ties! But they shall find themselves mistaken in me, my dear relatives! They shall be forced some day to acknowledge that the Elector of Brandenburg is self-sustaining, and stands erect without the aid of foreign supports. You look at me doubtfully, and perhaps think me a braggart, promising great things which I may never be able to perform? It would seem so, indeed, now, for where are the means for accomplishing such aims? Wretched and in the process of dissolution is all about me, nowhere do I see determined friends, efficient followers!"

"Oh, gracious sir, in that you go too far! You know yourself how much Schwarzenberg is hated in all your territories, how ardently all patriots long for his deposition from the government; for the league with the Emperor is detestable to everybody, and fear of Catholic domination and desire for the Swedish alliance prevail among all your subjects."

"Yes," cried the Elector, "adherents of Sweden there are in my dominions, and Schwarzenberg has indeed opponents enough. But he has friends as well, whom he has purchased with his good money and his protection. But tell me, where is an Electoral party, one deserving the name by its unity and determination, a party which looks not to the right or left, but straight ahead in the direction that I shall take? The old friends of my house are dispersed, hunted into banishment, exiled, or dead; on whom else could I depend? All positions in the army and government, all offices has Schwarzenberg filled with his own creatures; and should I venture to step, in their way, and endeavor to effect their and his ruin, I might easily come to ruin myself. In what direction, then, can I look for help?"

"To yourself, most noble sir, to your own mind and heart!" cried Leuchtmar, with enthusiasm.

"It is as you say, I should be a fool were I to seek protection elsewhere. Protection from the Emperor, the empire, Poland? Protection from comrades in the faith or blood relations? My empire is within myself, and by God's help the foundations shall be laid! 'Man forges his own fortunes.' That is a good old proverb. Well, I will try to be a good smith. I have played anvil long enough, and hard enough have been the blows dealt me by Count Schwarzenberg. I shall now try being the fist that guides the hammer, and I think I have a tolerably strong fist, that will be able so to wield the hammer as to fashion for myself a worthy scepter."

"A great and noble task has God committed to your highness," said Leuchtmar; "to you is it given to create your own state, and what you shall be hereafter you will owe to your own powers."

"And to the assistance of true servants, tried friends and followers!" cried the Elector, cordially extending his hand to his faithful counselor, "although now I only know two men on whom I can rely--yourself and Burgsdorf. But together we form no contemptible trio, and I am confident that great results will follow our efforts, and, in order that you may see what I am projecting, tarry here while I call in old Burgsdorf."

With alert step the Elector moved to the door and opened it. "Colonel von Burgsdorf!" he cried, then turned, strode through the cabinet and seated himself in the armchair before his father's writing table.

In the door of the entrance hall now appeared Colonel von Burgsdorf, his broad, red face wearing an embarrassed expression. Standing still in the doorway, he looked across at the Elector, who, his back half turned, seemed to take no notice of his approach.

"No doubt," said Burgsdorf to himself, "he has had me summoned in order to give me my discharge; he has not yet forgotten how desperate I was in the year '38. It is over with you, Conrad, and you can go home, because, like the old ass that you are, in sooth, you uttered aloud the pent-up agony of your soul!"

But while he was talking thus to himself with deep resentment, his countenance expressed nothing but devotion and anxiety; in humble, soldierly attitude he stood in the door. The Elector had his eyes fixed upon some papers lying on the table before him, and seemed absorbed in their perusal. Leuchtmar at last ventured to accost him.

"Gracious sir," he said softly, "Colonel von Burgsdorf, whom you called, has come in and is waiting for your orders."

"He is waiting!" cried the Elector. "Then I shall certainly have to ask his pardon in the end, for well I know that Colonel Burgsdorf does not understand waiting."

"Without doubt," repeated Burgsdorf to himself, "he has summoned me merely to give me my discharge."

"Colonel von Burgsdorf!" now cried the Elector, turning half toward him with grave, severe countenance, "just tell me how strong was the regiment which you enlisted for the Electoral army last year?"

"Most gracious sir, I enlisted two thousand four hundred men."

"That is to say," cried the Elector sternly, "you obtained the bounty money for recruiting two thousand four hundred men; but I would be glad to learn of you how many of those men actually existed."

"Your highness," stammered Burgsdorf in confusion, "I do not understand what your grace means. If I obtained bounty money for two thousand four hundred men, they certainly existed."

"So one would suppose, indeed," replied the Elector; "yet it can not have been, for before me lies a letter from Count Schwarzenberg to my father, and only hear what the Stadtholder in the Mark writes. Leuchtmar, come here please and read."

Leuchtmar hastened forward, and, taking the paper which the Elector held out to him, read: "'It is to be lamented that the officers contrive to pocket so much press money and hardly produce one out of every six men said to have been enlisted. Colonel von Kehrdorf received pay and rations for twelve hundred men, and yet had not over eighty; General von Klitzing's regiment ought to be two thousand strong, and in reality numbers only six hundred; Colonel Conrad von Burgsdorf gives out that he has two thousand four hundred recruits, and there are not quite six hundred of them.'"

"That is a lie--a base lie!" cried Burgsdorf, whose face was purple with passion. "The Stadtholder in the Mark has always been my enemy and opponent, and if he maintains that I only enlisted six hundred men--"

"He maintains something quite untrue," interrupted the Elector; "but he maintains no such thing. You interrupted Leuchtmar; let him read to the end, and hear the conclusion." Leuchtmar read on: "'And if you pick perhaps two hundred able-bodied men out of the six hundred, there remain four hundred feeble, sickly fellows, who would fall down like dead flies on the very first march.'"[35]

"You see that Schwarzenberg does not maintain that you enlisted six hundred able-bodied men."

"Your highness!" cried Burgsdorf, trembling with passion, "this I see, that you have had me called here in order to dismiss me, to banish me forever from your presence--and yet I have served you so faithfully, and have always hoped that you would forgive me."

"Forgive?" asked the Elector. "Had I anything to forgive in you?"

"Most gracious sir, that time after your return from The Hague I let my old heart carry me away; it was wholly wild and ungovernable and forgot the deference due your grace."

"Ah, I remember now," said the Elector, gently nodding his head. "That time when you wanted to make a revolution and required me to place myself at your head. You wanted to make of the poor little Electoral Prince a mighty rebel, and were even so kind as to promise that when with your help he had crushed Schwarzenberg he should become his father's prime minister and Stadtholder in the Mark."

"Your highness," cried Burgsdorf indignantly, "those were well-meant schemes, and originated in the excess of our love for you."

"Only, if I had adopted them, my father would have easily subdued the princely rebel with the Emperor's support. The Stadtholder in the Mark would then have had the pleasure of seeing upon the scaffold the Prince who had dared rebel against his own father, as befell Prince Carlos of Spain, when he revolted against his father, King Philip. I thought a little about that unhappy, misguided Prince, and profited by his example. You probably did not think of him, Burgsdorf, and fell into a great rage. I am glad you remember that day, for actually I had forgotten it."

"Most gracious sir, I would like to bite out my own tongue and swallow it," screamed Burgsdorf, raving. "I am a genuine old ass, and you do well to dismiss me forthwith; for I deserve nothing better, and am served quite right. Just speak out at once, your highness. I am discharged, am I not?"

"Quietly, Burgsdorf!" commanded the Elector sternly. "I am no longer the Electoral Prince at whom you can scold and bluster, as you did that time in the palace of Berlin."

"You always go back to the old story," groaned Burgsdorf.

"And you," said Frederick William, "you are just as impatient as you were then. You cried murder and death, because the Electoral Prince would not do your will! I told you--I remember that very well now--I told you that I would learn and wait. I begged you to do the same and wait also. But you, you would not wait; you cried out that you had already waited twenty years, and that now your patience was exhausted. You had no compassion on the youth of eighteen years, who had just come out of a foreign land, and hardly knew how to distinguish friend from foe because he was not acquainted with the condition of things. And yet you were already old and in your twenty years of waiting ought to have learned a little prudence! But you had learned nothing at all and could not wait, and gave me up with wild impatience because I would not be guilty of criminal disrespect toward my father."

"Most gracious sir, you cut me to the quick! Each of your words is a dagger aimed right at my heart. Let me go; let it bleed in solitude and retirement."

And old von Burgsdorf turned and went to the door.

"Stay there!" called out the Elector in commanding tone, arising from his seat and standing proudly erect. Burgsdorf, who had just laid his hand upon the door latch, let it glide down, and stood abashed and humble.

"You gave me up and forsook me that time in Berlin," continued Frederick William, "scolded and upbraided me, merely because I wished to learn and wait. That proves to me that you have never learned and never waited. Learn now, Colonel Conrad von Burgsdorf. Withdraw into that window recess, and wait until I speak to you again and tell you my decision with regard to you." And once more the Elector opened the door of the antechamber and called Chamberlain Werner von Schulenburg into his cabinet.

III.--DIPLOMATIC MISSIONS.

"Schulenburg," said the Elector to the advancing chamberlain, "you will set out immediately. Go to Berlin and inform the Stadtholder in the Mark, Count von Schwarzenberg, of my father's death. Announce to his excellency that it is my urgent and pressing request, that he continue to burden himself with the duties of the Stadtholdership."

An involuntary growl issued from the window where Burgsdorf was stationed. The Elector took no notice of it, and proceeded: "Moreover, request the Stadtholder in my name to write to me immediately, advising me what to do with regard to the Regensburg Diet, because we can not now with the required dispatch rightly apprehend and maturely consider the matter on account of our great affliction."[36]

A second growl issued from the window, and called a slight, passing smile to Frederick William's face.

"Then," continued the Elector, "notify the Stadtholder that I shall he glad to retain the present governors and garrisons of the forts; but that it would please me if we could inflict some injury upon the enemy at one place or the other; but, mindful of his hitherto glorious and successful management, I feel that I need only direct his attention in a special manner to the fortresses."

Old Burgsdorf's growl now became almost a shriek of pain. "It is unheard of," he said, in quite an audible voice.

With a proud movement of the head the Elector turned to him. "Burgsdorf," he said, "you were to learn to wait; be silent, then, as becomes an humble scholar."

Again the Elector turned to the chamberlain. "That is all I have to say to you, Schulenburg. I hope you have forgotten nothing, and that you will punctiliously execute every command."

"I trust that your highness is convinced of my zeal and fidelity," replied the chamberlain, bowing reverentially. "I shall punctiliously execute all your orders, and have only to ask further when I am to set off?"

"Immediately," said the Elector, "and travel post haste. Farewell! But hark! Schulenburg, you have obtained my official dispatches, now I shall add a little private errand. When you have communicated all this to the Stadtholder, exactly as directed, then converse a little with him in the most friendly manner, and in the course of conversation, as if of your own accord, sound Count Schwarzenberg as to his inclination to pay us a speedy visit in Prussia, the better to consult with us concerning the onerous duties of the administration. Then ask him casually, but in quite an innocent manner, whom he would recommend meanwhile as his substitute.[37] And now, God speed you, Schulenburg, go and carry out all my orders to the letter. As you pass out, send in to me the two gentlemen waiting in the antechamber."

With a condescending nod of the head, he offered his hand to the chamberlain, who pressed it fervently to his lips, and then left the cabinet with hasty steps.

"And now for you, gentlemen," cried the Elector, advancing a few paces to meet Herr von Kreytz and Herr von Kospoth, who were just entering the cabinet. "I have an important commission to intrust to both of you. You are both to proceed to Poland and announce my father's death to King Wladislaus. That is your affair specially, John von Kospoth. You know how to frame courteous speeches, and will inform the King that my father (peace be to his ashes!) has not been a more submissive vassal than his successor Frederick expects to be; you will tell him that the Dukes of Prussia are very faithful and obedient servants to the King of Poland, and know very well that they should be his Majesty's most humble vassals."

Again a passionate murmur proceeded from the window, and Burgsdorf's flushed, angry countenance appeared between the silk curtains. The Elector saw this by a furtive glance, and again something like a smile passed over his countenance.

Turning to the second gentleman, he continued: "You, Wolfgang von Kreytz, will present my most submissive and respectful greetings to the King of Poland, and acquaint him with the fact that I take my predecessor's place as duke in the dukedom of Prussia. Inform him that I recognize the King as lord paramount, and humbly sue for investiture. Tell him that I have hitherto forborne to perform the functions of ruler, and committed the government to a board of regency, and am meanwhile striving with the greatest diligence to acquire a knowledge of the rights and privileges of the land. Pay, both of you, the most polite and friendly court to the King and all his ministers. Asseverate everywhere that we know right well that our succession in Prussia depends wholly upon the King's choice, and that we would naturally desire to present ourselves in person and swear allegiance to his Majesty. And after you have impressed all these statements fully upon his mind, add that to our deepest regret we can not come immediately, on account of the bad condition of our hereditary estates and manifold business pertaining to the Roman Empire, which just now prevent us from undertaking the journey. Then petition for a gracious dispensation from personal attendance, and request his Majesty to grant a written order for the feoffment. Should the King make known to you through his counselors that he will not grant this written order, then desire a private audience of the King, and represent to him that we have been forced to assume the government, and deprecate his displeasure. Wait also upon the most prominent ministers, and represent the same thing to them. By your eloquence and zeal I hope that you will accomplish your purpose, and bring me the investiture. To this end spare neither flattery nor fair words."

"Most gracious sir," asked John von Kospoth, with a meaning smile, "but if, unfortunately, flattery and fair words prove of no avail, what must we do then?"

"You answer that question for me, Wolfgang von Kreytz," said the Elector.

"Most gracious sir," exclaimed the young baron spiritedly, "if all entreaties and persuasions fail to move, I think it will be time to assert your Electoral dignity, and to have recourse to a little threatening. We should give the King of Poland to understand that you claim the succession in Prussia by virtue of your own good right; that your father, the Elector George William, undertook the government before the investiture, and that you will defend your duchy of Prussia with all the means at your command, and will never give it up."

"Very good," said a deep voice from behind the window curtain.

"Do you mean to speak so too, John von Kospoth?" asked the Elector.

"If flattery and persuasions bring forth no fruit," replied Kospoth, "it would be a satisfaction to me, too, to threaten."

"A poor satisfaction!" cried the Elector, "unless we could forthwith follow up our threat by action, and send out our regiments to declare war! No, sirs, if you try in vain to bribe with fair words, then we must resort to money! Money is also a weapon, and, if report speak truly, an effective one among the Polish lords, their King himself respecting it. In extremity, therefore, if you can not go forward at all, then have their Majesties, the King as well as Queen, notified, by means of some trusty person, that if we obtain the grant of the government on the spot, and have no difficulty with regard to investiture, we shall pay to both their Majesties, as a bonus, the sum of sixty thousand Polish florins, and afterward wait upon the great chancellor, vice chancellor, and lord high chancellor, salute these gentlemen from me, and promise each one of them ten thousand Polish florins. Take care, though, to stipulate for some time to be allowed us for the fulfillment of these promises, for where the money is to come from is as yet a riddle to ourselves. Such is my commission, gentlemen. Hasten to execute it."

"And now," exclaimed the Elector, when the two gentlemen had left the cabinet, "now, Colonel von Burgsdorf, you have received your first lesson, and have learned to wait a little. Come forward now; I have something to say to you."

"And I, sir," called out Burgsdorf, as he rushed forth from the bay window and threw himself on his knees before the Elector, "first of all, I have something to say to you. Your highness, above all things I must beg your pardon from the bottom of my heart, and confess to you the evil thoughts that led me to suppose that the Elector at twenty years of age did not understand government and was only a timid young gentleman. I see now that you are far wiser and more prudent than the old fool Burgsdorf, and that you have learned more in your twenty years than will ever penetrate my thick skull. You are a great statesman, your highness; on my knees I implore your pardon for having doubted you, and beseech you, reject me not, sir! Forget the nonsense I gave utterance to that time at Berlin, and take the old broadsword into your service. It desires nothing better than to be worn out in your service, to fly out of its scabbard at your bidding and slash away at the enemy."

"To slash away at the enemy!" repeated the Elector. "First of all, stand up, old colonel. There," he continued, smiling, holding out his hand to him, "I must help you a little, for your old limbs have grown stiff in my father's service. And now, just tell me, old broadsword, what you think of it. How will you attack the enemy for me now? Enemies enough we have, indeed, but too few soldiers, I should think, to cope with them. Or think you that we could soon set an army on foot? Would you go out to battle with your regiment of two thousand six hundred men, and win back for me my contested territories?"

"I beg your highness not to speak of my two thousand six hundred men. You know well that they have long since melted away, because there was no money wherewith to pay them."

"Well then," said the Elector, "I will gratify you by forgetting that splendid regiment, and by no longer reminding you of the things that were. But this I tell you, Burgsdorf, under my administration everything must correspond, and what is noted down on paper must really exist. And now we shall see if you are acquainted with our military affairs."

"Alas! most noble sir," sighed Burgsdorf, "would that I did not know, for it is a most sorrowful knowledge to an old soldier and in a most distressing condition is the Brandenburg military department."

"Yes, indeed!" exclaimed the Elector. "The knights no longer take horse, the citizens no longer care to defend their towns and gates, the States refuse to pay subsidies for the support of the army, and our coffers are exhausted. It is no wonder if there can be no talk of an army. How much infantry and cavalry have we in all, Burgsdorf?"

"Most gracious sir," sighed the colonel, "in the Mark and Prussia together we have not more than twenty companies of infantry, allowing a hundred and twenty-five men to each."

"That would make two thousand five hundred men," said the Elector--"a small nucleus for an army, truly; but something, nevertheless, provided that these men are attached to me, and owe fealty to none besides myself."

"But that is just our misfortune," said Burgsdorf; "these men have sworn allegiance not only to you, but to the Emperor's Majesty. They were enlisted in the Emperor's name, and carry the imperial banner."

"Ah!" cried the Elector, "I see you know how it is, Conrad von Burgsdorf, and understand the difficulties of the position in which we find ourselves. Yes, the regiments of the Elector of Brandenburg have given oath to the Emperor, and the Emperor's banners wave above our forts. All my officers serve the Emperor first! Tell me, Burgsdorf, are you yourself not in the Emperor's service? Have you not a regiment in the imperial army, although you are governor of Küstrin, and therefore under my command?"

"That is so," replied Burgsdorf. "I could not refuse the imperial regiment because it was such a lucrative post, and the governorship paid me hardly anything. The emoluments for heading the imperial regiment were more in one year than I would have gained in twenty years from my Brandenburg post. Necessity drove me to it."[38]

"I know that very well," said the Elector, "and I repeat that the past shall be forgotten if you promise that in future you will be true and loyal to myself alone."

"Your highness!" shouted Burgsdorf, "I will be faithful to you and your government to the end of my life! I renounce empire and Emperor, and henceforth the Elector of Brandenburg is my sole lord and general! Allow me on the spot to give into your own hand my oath of office, and swear to you eternal fidelity!"

"Here is my hand," said the Elector solemnly. "Swear upon this hand hereafter to become the sword of Brandenburg, to serve me faithfully and zealously, and to have no other Sovereign than myself!"

"In God's name I swear that I will have no other Sovereign, and serve under no other Prince, than yourself alone, the Elector of Brandenburg!" cried Burgsdorf, laying both his hands in that of the Elector and pressing it fervently to his lips.

"And now, having sworn you into my service," said the Elector, in a majestic tone, "now I commission you to return home to Küstrin and to administer the oath to all the officers and men there. But understand, to me alone, not to the Emperor."

"To you alone, not to the Emperor!" cried Burgsdorf, with animation.

"And I further order you to receive no imperial garrison into your fortress, for we have a right to exact this, since it is clearly stipulated in the peace of Prague that each Prince is at liberty to man his fortresses with his own people, which clause gives validity to this assertion of right."[39]

"Your Electoral Highness!" cried Burgsdorf, "that was spoken like a man! Begin the good work in earnest, and command the Stadtholder without delay to swear in the other governors of your remaining fortresses!"[40]

"You are of opinion, then, that this is very necessary, and that these gentlemen might refuse to swear allegiance to me alone?"

"Yes, sir, I am strongly of that opinion, and would venture to lay a wager that Colonel von Rochow at Spandow, and Goldacker and Kracht in Berlin, will not take oath to your Electoral Highness."

"Woe to them if they do it not!" cried the Elector, with flashing eyes. "I shall prove to them that they must bow in obedience to me, and that I recognize no other lord but myself within the limits of my own dominions. Now go back to the Mark, Burgsdorf, and do as I have bidden you. You may also, as would once have been so pleasant to you, go over right often to Berlin. Attend well to all that is going on, for it may be that I shall soon have occasion for you there. Be on your guard, therefore, colonel, and be pretty circumspect in word and deed. Ponder upon the advice given you by the little Electoral Prince once: 'Learn and wait.'"

"Sir, you give me another thrust!" cried Burgsdorf; "but it does me good, and I am glad of it. Yes, I shall learn and wait, for I see plainly the last night of the world has not come yet, and my dearest master will not always have to act so on the defensive as now; when the right time comes, he will strike and prove to all his enemies, even the mightiest of them, that he is more powerful than they. Mark now, mark my words; Schwarzenberg may look out!"

"But meanwhile let Burgsdorf look out! Farewell now, Burgsdorf, you have received my orders. Execute them."

"Now," cried the Elector, after the colonel had left the room--"now, my dear Leuchtmar, you know all my views and plans. But the most weighty, important, and difficult task I have reserved for you."

"I think I know what your highness means," said Leuchtmar, smiling. "Your precautionary measures have been taken in all directions; as early as yesterday your envoys departed laden with most submissive messages of respect for the Emperor. Only in one direction have you done nothing, and that remains for me. I am to go to Sweden, am I not?"

The Elector nodded and smiled. "It is as you say--you are to go to Sweden. A great danger threatens my country. The Swedes are on the frontiers, or rather within my territories, for they hold possession of Pomerania, which is mine. They are on the point of invading the Mark, Banner again threatens my poor, exhausted lands, and it is said that he has already issued orders for the demolishing of Berlin. Schwarzenberg for that very reason had the suburbs of Berlin and Cologne burned down, thus laying the city open to assault; from Saxony, also, the Swedish general Stallhansch advances upon Brandenburg, and all is in a fair way to encircle the Mark in the flames of war. But, as you know, I have no money and no soldiers, no power and no lands. I can not conduct a war! My single purpose must now be, in the first place, to withdraw my oppressed land and people from these flames of war into lasting repose and a peaceful security, and then to govern them well.[41] I shall send you to Sweden, therefore, Leuchtmar, to conclude for me a temporary armistice with the Swedes, and also to negotiate the conditions of a peace. I must have peace at any price, for on no terms can I carry on a war. Chancellor Oxenstiern is indeed a proud and overbearing man, who will probably make hard conditions, but we must accommodate ourselves to them, yield gracefully now, and defer our revenge for a later day. Only if he demands Pomerania as the price of peace, you may not yield; we will indeed be yielding, but not suffer ourselves to be humbled. We can grant much, but not allow ourselves to be imposed upon in everything. If Oxenstiern desires money and other material things, promise them, but land and towns you may not give."

"Not a single title to land or town, your highness!" cried Leuchtmar, "for you have said that you would substantiate your titles, and give kernels to the empty shells; therefore the Swede shall not crack a single one of your nuts."

"Not a single one," repeated the Elector, while he smilingly extended his hand to his friend. "And now, one thing more, Leuchtmar. Do you remember the plan about which my great-uncle Gustavus Adolphus spoke to my mother, when he was here on a visit?"

"Yes, indeed," returned Leuchtmar promptly, "I remember it, and think it were time now to carry it into execution. There is one means of uniting Sweden and Brandenburg in the bonds of peace, without reducing Brandenburg to humiliation. Only follow the plan of the great Gustavus Adolphus; you know he destined his daughter Christina for your wife."

"Yes," said the Elector, and a sudden pallor overspread his cheeks--"yes, he meant his daughter to be my wife. Go, Leuchtmar, and woo her, but quite secretly and quietly. As I have already told you, my heart is dead, young Frederick William no longer desires anything for himself, but the young Elector a great deal still, and it is the Elector who offers his hand to Queen Christina for the good of his country. I believe the little, young Queen interests herself somewhat in her cousin Frederick William, at least so my aunt, the widowed Queen, assured me. I shall intrust to you a letter for the young Queen, which you must try to slip into her own hand without Oxenstiern knowing anything about it. Go now, dear Leuchtmar, and prepare all things for your journey. Meanwhile I shall write the letter."

"In one hour, your highness, I shall be ready," said Leuchtmar, withdrawing with a low bow.

The Elector thoughtfully followed him with his eyes. "In one hour he will be ready," he said, "and he goes away to woo for me a woman's heart. Oh, Love and Faith, must you, too, bow to the great laws which govern the world? Must you, too, be laid as sacrifices upon the altar of country? Hush, poor heart and murmur not! Sink down into the sea of forgetfulness, ye days of the past! A new era dawns upon me. I stand before the gates of a great future, and I write above these gates, 'I will be a mighty and distinguished ruler!' That is my future."

IV.--CONFIRMED IN POWER.

With triumphant expression of countenance Count Adam von Schwarzenberg walked to and fro in his cabinet. The Chamberlain Werner von Schulenburg had just left him, and the glad tidings which he had brought from the young Elector had banished all doubts, all cares from the Stadtholder's heart.

"I did him injustice," he said cheerfully to himself. "Frederick William was not my enemy, not my opponent! He was only the son of his father, and he will now also walk in his father's ways. I therefore remain what I am, remain Stadtholder, the lord of the Mark! And," he continued, more softly, "I would have put this amiable Prince out of the way! Who knows whether it would have been for my advantage if he had died and my son stepped into his place! My son is of my blood--that is to say, he is ambitious and thirsts after power and distinction. He would not have left the government in my hands, if he could have wrested it from me, and perhaps I would not have remained Stadtholder in the Mark had it been in his power to displace me!"

The count had thrown himself into a fauteuil, and supported his head on his hand. The triumphant expression had long since faded from his features, which were mow grave and lined by care.

"It pleases me not," he murmured, after a long pause--"no, it pleases me not at all that my son associates so constantly with Goldacker, Kracht, and Rochow at Spandow. They are disorderly fellows, who recognize no law or restraint, and find their sole pleasure in tumult and strife. It would seem fine to them if they could embroil father and son, for they would surely fish in the troubled waters, and draw out some advantage for themselves, which is ever their only concern. They exert an evil influence over my son, I know that, and it would be infinitely better for him to go away from here and--Ha! a good thought! I shall immediately carry it out."

He started up and grasped the large gold bell, which had been recently presented to him by the Emperor. The clear, sonorous tones called a smile to the count's lips.

"Yes, yes," he said, "the old Elector is dead, and I ring the new times in; yet the new era is but a repetition of the old, and the end remains ever the same, although the means by which we attain it differ. I used to whistle, now I ring, but the object remains identically the same--to summon serviceable spirits to my side.

"They do not come, though," he continued after a long pause, in which he had awaited in vain the appearance of a lackey. "No, these, my serviceable spirits come not; they incline not to the new order of things, and prefer clinging to the old."

He took the little golden whistle, lying on the table beside the bell, and gave a loud, shrill call with it. Immediately the door opened and a lackey appeared.

"Why have you kept me waiting?" asked the count imperiously. "Did you not hear the bell?"

"Yes, your excellency," replied the lackey, with reverential mien, "I heard ringing. It was the beadle, giving notice that two women were to be put in the pillory on the fish market for committing twenty thefts between them!"

"Stupid fool! It was I who rang!" cried the count. "Did I not yesterday notify you through the majordomo that I should no longer call you with a whistle, but with a bell?"

"It is true, your excellency, and I beg your pardon for forgetting it," replied the lackey humbly.

"Mark it for all time to come," commanded the count. "Go now and tell my son, Count John Adolphus, that I wish to speak with him, and request him to come to me."

The lackey bowed obsequiously and left the apartment. He paused behind the closed door, and with defiant, angry countenance, shook his clinched fist.

"You will no longer call us by a whistle," he muttered wrathfully, "and yet you whistle for your parrot and your dogs. But that is quite too good for your servants and lackeys, and they must now listen for that sheep bell. Tinkle and ring for us, will you, as if you were the beadle and we good-for-nothing folks to be put in the pillory? Ah me! every day the rich and high become more haughty, and the poor and lowly must every day put up with more! We had hoped, indeed, that other times would come, and that the young Elector would shove that old tyrant of a Stadtholder aside, and oust him from his dignities and offices. But Count Adam von Schwarzenberg retains his place, and the only change for us is that he rings for us instead of whistling as of old. We must just submit, and when he rings obey his orders as if he whistled."

With a deep sigh and melancholy air the lackey now walked off to execute his lord's commands, and summon Count John Adolphus to his father. This young gentleman made haste to obey the call.

"My son," cried the Stadtholder, himself opening his cabinet door, "I recognized your step and came to meet you."

"You have something very urgent to say to me then, since you have so anxiously expected me?" asked John Adolphus, pressing his father's hand to his lips.

"Yes, much that is urgent," replied the Stadtholder. "The young Elector's envoy has arrived, and brought me a first missive from him."

"Good news?" asked his son hurriedly.

"Yes, good news. The Elector confirms me in all my offices and dignities. I remain Stadtholder in the Mark, Director of the War Department--in short, what I am, whence follows as a matter of course that the Elector Frederick remains what his father was--my obedient servant. My son, the power has not fallen from my hand, and your heritage remains."

"I assure you, my gracious father, I have but little desire to enter upon this heritage of mine," cried young Count Adolphus, shrugging his shoulders. "May I long remain what I am now, the son of the Stadtholder in the Mark, the coadjutor of the Grand Master of the Order of St. John."

"I thank you, Adolphus, for this kind and friendly wish," said Count Adam, giving his hand to his son. "It proves to me that you love your old father, and that delights me. Truly, man is a wonderful creature, not being able to live for himself alone, but always longing for some sympathetic heart on which to lean. I have at last made the discovery that I have a heart."

"And I," said Count Adolphus, laughing--"I have just discovered that I no longer have a heart."

"Or rather, you are sick at heart, are you not?" inquired his father quickly. "My son, you have avoided me of late--you have turned from me, you no longer confide in me."

"I have nothing to confide, most revered sir," replied Count Adolphus, smiling. "I lead a merry, harmless life, and care for nothing."

"For nothing?" repeated the count. "Not even for the Princess Charlotte Louise?"

Count Adolphus slightly shuddered, and his cheeks paled a little, but he carelessly shook his head, and continued to smile.

"My son," continued his father, "I ask you to-day, as I did two years ago, on what terms are you with the Princess Charlotte Louise? During all this time you have invariably eluded my efforts to converse on the subject. I indulged you, for I know my prudent, cautious son, and waited for him to give me his confidence voluntarily. Hitherto, however, I have but waited in vain, so that I am compelled to take the initiative, and sue for your confidence. Give it to me, Adolphus, tell me whether you love the Princess Charlotte Louise."

"Wherefore?" asked Count Adolphus. "How would it profit you?"

"Me? Not at all, but perhaps it may profit you to tell me the truth. The lofty hopes we once indulged in have come to naught, destiny has not willed their fruition. We have been disappointed in our hope of seeing George William's daughter become his heiress, and exalt her husband into an Elector of Brandenburg. Frederick William is Elector, he has entered upon his father's estates to their full extent. But the Princess Charlotte Louise is still unmarried, and has remained so because she loves you and is waiting for you."

"She has made me wait," cried the young count, with a sudden outburst of passion. "She kept me standing and waiting two hours before a locked door, and never, while I live, never, shall I forget the shame, the torture, and degradation of those two hours of vain expectation. Oh, father, see what power you have over me! I swore then that no human being should ever hear of the insult put upon me by that haughty Prince's daughter, and yet I am confessing it to you now. Pity me not, say nothing, nothing at all, for each word but aggravates my pain and makes my heart swell with indignation and grief. Oh, I loved her, trusted her, I dreamed of a proud and brilliant future, which I should owe to her! And she played her part in such masterly style, her countenance wearing a look of such innocence and candor! O father! I loved her, and I, the experienced man of the world, allowed myself to be deceived by that young girl, who knew nothing of the world, and was yet such an accomplished hypocrite! Think not that I was a mere idle coxcomb, arrogantly basing his expectations upon his wishes. No, she deceived me, she disappointed me! You should have seen her at that _fête_ which you gave to the Electoral Prince. How tenderly she leaned upon my arm, as we walked through the greenhouse, with what glowing cheeks, with what a blissful smile did she listen to my protestations of love, with what amiable bashfulness did she respond to them! She even anticipated my boldest hopes and desires, and when I ventured to ask for a rendezvous, not only consented to it, but gave me a proof that she would have granted it without waiting for me to seek one. There, in the greenhouse, she pressed a little note into my hand, which stated clearly and distinctly that she appointed ten o'clock of the following evening for a rendezvous with me at the castle. And yet all was falsehood and deceit--all only invented for the purpose of punishing the presumptuous fool who had dared to lift his eyes to the proud Princess! Oh, how she laughed perhaps, and mocked me with her sister, mother, and brother, while I stood below before the locked door and waited, finally being obliged to slink away, burying my rage and despair in my heart! I fancy her spying from a neighboring window, watching me, and enjoying my confusion as I stood there knocking at a bolted door, having at last to go off silent and bowed down. It makes me furious to think of this, and yet continually the idea haunts me, leaving me no rest, until the remembrance of these two dreadful hours becomes absolute torture. O father! why have you wrenched this secret from my heart?--why have you persuaded me to tell you, what I have not even revealed to my father confessor?"

"I am glad, my son, that I have succeeded in opening this secret," said the count quietly. "I say opening, for like a festering sore it has rankled in your bosom, and believe me, Adolphus, since it has been opened, you will experience relief and your heart will heal. It has befallen many another man to be caught in the snares of a coquette, and to have a few costly illusions dispelled. But consider, my son, each illusion lost is an experience gained, and experience is cheaply bought with the dreams of the heart. Experience, you know, brings knowledge of the world, and knowledge of the world forms the diplomatist and statesman. You are already, my son, no despicable statesman, and you will some day play a great game, even though you are not the Electoral Princess's husband. For the rest I can give you one comforting assurance, and relieve your mind of an oppressive consciousness. In order to do this I have allowed you to vent your rage, and listened with attentive ear to your passionate complaints. My consolation is this: you have never loved the Princess Charlotte Louise--that is to say, never loved her with your heart, but only with your vanity and ambition. It was very flattering to you to be loved by a Princess, and ambition whispered to you that through your wife you might become reigning Elector, if the Electoral Prince were only put out of the way by fate or some other obliging hand. There was surely some prospect of this, and you know how exultingly we both looked forward to such a future. But we made shipwreck of those plans, and now it is too late to build them anew. However, let us not mourn over the past, but forget it. This hour has witnessed your last lament over your dead past. Its knell has been rung, let us both now doom it to oblivion. I have retained one thing in my memory, however, and that is the note which the incautious Princess gave you that evening in the greenhouse. Do you still possess it?"

"Yes, I still possess it, and as often as I look at it my heart is like to burst with indignation and wrath!"

"On the contrary, Adolphus, you ought to rejoice whenever you look at it, for you can turn this little note into a formidable weapon against the Electoral house. With this note you can some day force the young Elector to make you my successor, confirm you in the rank of Grand Master of the Knights of St. John, or even, if you still wish it, make you the husband of his sister Charlotte Louise. Ah! my son, a note in which the Elector's sister invites you to a rendezvous by night is worth more to you, indeed, than if you could go out against your enemy with an army, for an army might be vanquished, but in this _billet-doux_ of the Princess each stroke of her hand becomes a soldier fighting with invincible armor."

"You are right, most gracious father," said Count Adolphus, with a sinister expression of face. "The day may come when I shall march out these soldiers against the faithless Princess and her whole house! I hate her, I hate them all, and my whole heart longs for revenge, and--"

"Your excellency," said a chamberlain, approaching hastily--"your excellency, a courier from Königsberg has just arrived, and is the bearer of this dispatch from the Elector."

The Stadtholder took the proffered packet, and by a hurried sign dismissed the chamberlain.

"A courier from Königsberg," he said, with a slight shaking of the head, as he examined the great sealed envelope which he held in his hand. "A writing from the Electoral Government Office, when Schulenburg was just with me this very day, the bearer of verbal communications! I do not understand it!"

"The best plan would be, most revered father, to open the letter!" cried Count Adolphus briskly. "You will then see what news it contains."

The Stadtholder made no answer, but tore off the cover and drew forth the inner paper. Slowly he unfolded this, and read.

His son had involuntarily advanced a few steps nearer, and watched his father's countenance with the impatience of suspense. He saw him turn pale, his brow darken, and his lips become firmly compressed.

"The letter contains bad news?" he said breathlessly.

"Not merely bad but astonishing news," replied the count, with forced composure. "The Elector here makes several requirements of me, and not directly, but through his private secretary Götz."

"What presumption!" exclaimed his son passionately.

"How can that little Elector dare to forward a writ of chancery to you, the mighty and influential Stadtholder in the Mark, instead of addressing his desires and requests to you privately in his own handwriting?"

"It shows at all events a little negligence and want of formality," replied his father thoughtfully, "although the Elector may certainly plead as his excuse the many claims upon his time. For the same reason he only gave Schulenburg verbal messages for me."

"And may I ask what the Elector demands of your grace? Or is this an indiscretion on my part?"

"No, my son, you shall learn it. In the first place, the Elector requires me to send unopened to him at Königsberg all letters arriving here addressed to him, and not to open and answer them in his name as hitherto. The Elector further desires me to conclude no act of government without having previously called together the privy council. In the third place, the Elector directs me forthwith to require of all the governors and officers of the forts an oath of allegiance to himself. He lastly asks, if I can make it convenient to come to Prussia, that we may confer together, and that he may have the benefit of my aid and advice."

"And what answer will your grace return to these demands?"

"As regards the first requirement, I shall reply that the Elector's will is law, and that all writings shall be henceforth forwarded to him unopened. As to the second demand, I shall represent that it is now simply impossible to gratify, since only a single member of the old privy council is yet alive. As to binding the officers and commandants by oath to their duty," continued the count slowly, "I shall but require a token of their disposition to fulfill existing engagements. And lastly, as the Elector wishes it, I can hardly refuse him my advice; so that I will go to him in Prussia."

"No," cried Count Adolphus impatiently, "no, father, you shall not. You shall not accept this artfully contrived invitation. You dare not go to Prussia. My God, sir, are your usually keen and penetrating eyes so blinded that they can not see what is so very palpable? Do you really not perceive that the Elector only wants to entice you away, in order to get you in his power, in order noiselessly and quietly to put you out of the way? Ostensibly you are to go to Königsberg to advise the young, inexperienced Elector. That is the pretext, the sand which they would scatter in the eyes of yourself, your friends, the Emperor, yea, all Germany, so that no one can see what is going on, or by any possibility guess what will happen. You may set out for Königsberg, but you will never get there; you will meet with an accident on the way--either your carriage will be overset and you fatally injured, or robbers fall upon you in the woods and murder you. However it may be, only as a dead man will you arrive at Königsberg, and the Elector will have nothing further to do than to decree your magnificent obsequies!"

"Ah, my son!" cried the Stadtholder, smiling, "you go too far. Never will the Elector resort to such expedients. He is too pious and good a Christian for that!"

"Father, are not you, too, a good, pious Christian, and yet--Believe me, the Elector has forgotten nothing. He remembers the man found under his bed once, with a murderous weapon in his hand and much gold in his pocket. He remembers the sickness which so suddenly seized him two years ago at the banquet which you had prepared for him. _Then_ you invited him, _now_ he invites you, and if sickness seizes you, you will probably not have the good fortune to recover as he did."

"That is true; my God! he may be right," muttered the count, turning pale. "It may be that they suspect me; they may have told him I meant to poison him at that banquet. I have proofs of it which make it seem probable, and that woman--Hush, hush! nothing of that--that has no place here! But I believe myself that you are right, and will therefore ignore the Elector's invitation."

"God be praised, father, that you have taken this resolution!" cried the young count joyfully. "Now at last the crisis is upon us--open enmity and a rupture, regardless of consequences! Waver and hesitate no more. The Elector would ruin you; you must ruin him. Nay, look not so amazed and shocked, father! I have long foreseen this moment, and have prepared everything for meeting the emergency with dignity. As soon as the first news of the Elector George William's death reached here, I gathered about me my friends and yours, and held a long consultation with them, which satisfied me of their fidelity and devotion. Oh, most gracious sir, you have indeed no reason to bewail your lot, for you have many and reliable friends, who are ready for your sake to confront the most imminent dangers, to undertake what is most difficult and hazardous! All of our friends were convinced with me that the Electoral Prince is your implacable enemy, and that he only watches for an opportunity to accomplish your ruin. In spite of his few years, however, he is much too wise and cautious a man to attempt to act against you with open, swift determination. He knows the Emperor loves you, and that he would regard each act of enmity against you as directed against himself. Therefore he would quietly remove and undo you. Here, in the midst of your faithful friends, surrounded by soldiers and officers who have taken an oath of fidelity to you and the Emperor, in the midst of your adherents and retainers, the Elector would not dare to arrest and accuse you. He begins much more prudently, much more circumspectly! In the first place, you are to swear the governors and officers into the Elector's service. That is to say, in other words, they are no longer to recognize the Emperor as lord paramount or you as the Elector's representative, but their oath is to bind them to the Elector alone, and only on his will are they to be dependent. After having accomplished all this, you are to proceed to Prussia, where no one defends you, where your friends can not rally around you, where you will vanish, uncared for and unwept. No, my lord and father, you must not go to Prussia, or if you do, not until you have assembled around you your loyal subjects, when, at the head of your regiments, you go forth to meet the Elector as his powerful and determined foe, not as his servant."

"What do you say, my son?" asked the Stadtholder, shocked.

"I say, father, that your friends and I have been secretly active, that we have prepared to defend you in case the Elector threatens you. Throughout the whole Mark your friends are ready to make open opposition to the Elector, and firmly determined to protect you and their own rights and privileges sword in hand. Only carry out Frederick William's order, summon the commandants of the forts here to Berlin, and demand of them their oath of allegiance to the Elector. This they will refuse. All, with the exception of Burgsdorf of Küstrin and Trotha of Peitz, will declare that they have already given in their oath to the Emperor, and can not conscientiously take any other. The colonels of the regiments will say the same, especially Goldacker, the boldest, bravest of them all. They will keep faith with the Emperor, and therefore the Elector of Brandenburg is not their commander in chief. _You_, who administered the imperial oath, they will obey in the Emperor's name, they will follow whithersoever _you_ lead."

"But whither can I lead them?" asked the Stadtholder.

"To battle against the little Elector of Brandenburg, who would revolt against his lord the Emperor; to battle against the heretical vassal of the Emperor, who threatens the German Empire and the Church, who would break loose from Emperor and empire, who threatens all creeds, making every effort to strengthen and aggrandize the reformed party. Oh, believe me, not merely good Catholics, but the Evangelical and Lutheran sects, will obey this call, and burn with enmity and wrath against the rash little Elector. We have spread our net, and its meshes are entangling him, even there in Prussia, where he thinks himself quite safe and secure. True friends and trusty messengers have been sent by Goldacker and myself to Prussia, to concert measures there with your adherents, and to rouse them to strong, energetic action. Sebastian von Waldow, superintendent of the palace and captain of Ruppin, assembles your friends together in perfect secrecy, and I daily expect from him exact accounts as to the success of his operations. In Königsberg itself we now have a powerful and efficient friend, who co-operates with us and is like-minded with ourselves. It is the ambassador whom the Emperor has sent to condole with the Elector. He is my best, most confidential friend, Count von Martinitz. He is acquainted with all my plans, he is the confidant of all my hopes and views, and will second them with all his might. This ambitious, heretical little Elector shall not rise, shall not arrive at power and distinction! That is not only the view the Emperor takes of it, but all German princes. The Elector of Brandenburg is a source of terror and embarrassment to them all. He threatens Saxony, he threatens Brunswick and Hesse; of all he claims land and property now in their possession. He has no friends, adherents, nor allies, this little Elector Frederick William. Holland will not side with him, because it will not relinquish Julich and Cleves, Sweden contends with him for Pomerania, and Poland about the investiture. He has only enemies and accusers! If, then, we attack him, he is lost! No hand will be lifted in his defense, no arm outstretched to save him. The Emperor will grant us his support and countenance, and all German princes will secretly rejoice that so dangerous a rival has been happily removed. O father! you see I have not abandoned hope of becoming some day Elector of Brandenburg! Only, I shall not be indebted for it to the Princess Charlotte Louise, but to you. I shall inherit the dignity as my father's son! And this shall be my revenge upon the faithless, treacherous Princess! I will ruin her and her whole house; I will put my father in her brother's place; I will one day enter as master the palace before whose closed portals they once insolently kept me two hours waiting. I swore that night to be revenged for that insult, and now the moment has come. Father, the fruit of revenge is ripe, and you must pluck it!"

"Yes, that I will," cried the Stadtholder, with animation. "Oh, my son, a great, immeasurable joy fills my soul at this hour; and, first of all, let me beg your pardon for having entertained a horrible suspicion with regard to you which has lately forced itself upon me. I mistrusted you, seeing your activity, your strange confidential transactions with the commandants and officers; I felt that you were on the eve of some great undertaking, and suspected that in you I had a rival, and that you wished to supplant me! Forgive me, my son, forgive me in consideration of the misery my suspicions caused me!"

"I have nothing to forgive, father," said Count Adolphus coldly. "It is so natural for those incapable of love to suppose that others are only moved by selfish ends! You, father, love nothing on earth but your own ambition and fame, and so fancied that it was the same with me, and that ambition could make the son a traitor to his own father!"

"My Adolphus!" cried the Stadtholder, "I have already told you, and repeat again, that I feel I have a heart. I felt it in the pain which I experienced when I doubted you; I feel it now in the rapture which thrills me in beholding you act so boldly and courageously in behalf of your father. Give me your hand, Adolphus, and--if you do not disdain such a thing--embrace me, and kiss your old father."

He held out his arms, and his son threw himself on his breast and imprinted a long, fervent kiss upon his lips. Long did Count Schwarzenberg clasp him to his heart, then took the young man's head between both his hands and looked at him with loving, tender glances. Finally, with a singular expression of embarrassment, he bent down and kissed his eyes.

"My son," he said softly and quickly, "I love you. Yours are the first eyes that I have ever kissed, and this kiss of your father's unpolluted lips should be to you a life-long blessing. And now to work, now for action, and bold adventurous deeds! Oh, of late how weak and worn out I have felt myself to be, and longed to withdraw into solitude and retirement, to rest from all labor! I believed it was old age creeping upon me, and by its abominable touch unnerving my arm and crippling my activity. But now I feel that it was only secret grief about you which thus enfeebled me and robbed my arm of vigor. Now I am quite well again and strong; now I will dare everything that you have so prudently and wisely planned. Yes, yes, once more I am Schwarzenberg, the Stadtholder in the Mark, and I shall not allow myself to be imposed upon; I shall do battle with this little Frederick William, who ventures to defy and threaten me. He opposes the Emperor, he would be an independent Sovereign, while he is only the Emperor's vassal. For this he shall be punished. It will not be our fault if this hurls him from his little throne, and how could we be blamed, should the Emperor bestow the margraviate of Brandenburg upon Prince Schwarzenberg, as he did the margraviate of Jägerndorf upon Prince Lobkowitz? To work, my son, to work! Oh, now again my eyes see clearly--now again my head conceives fixed and energetic thoughts. My son, we two combined will surely be equal to the execution of our exalted schemes. We two combined will ruin the Elector."

"And put you in his place," cried the young count.

"I must go before, that you may be my successor, and that our house stand firm and strong, and not be inferior to that of Lobkowitz or Fürstenberg. Already it is clearly defined in my mind what we shall have to do. In the first place, we must render the Elector odious to all parties, making it evident to each that he is a dangerous foe to all, who would enrich himself at his neighbors' expense, and would arrive at honor and power by weakening and degrading others. We have only to say to the Emperor that he is his opponent, and seeks to release his officers from the oath they have taken. Ferdinand is passionate and jealous of his prerogatives, and will crush his rebellious vassal. To the Lutherans and their favorers we will have it whispered by our friends that the Elector, as a rigid Calvinist, threatens their faith, and proposes to restrict the privileges of their country churches and to deprive of their offices all those who will not confess the Calvinistic creed. The Lutherans are a hard-headed and fanatical sect. He who menaces their faith is their arch-enemy, and they will be ready to fight against him with fire and sword. The soldiers, you know, are always ready to follow him who pays them best, and as regards their officers, thanks to you, my son, we are sure of them. Let us now adopt a fixed plan for hastening the crisis."

"I am only waiting for the return of the messenger whom I sent to Sebastian von Waldow. He will bring us reliable information as to the progress of organization among your adherents in Prussia, for Waldow has gone himself to Königsberg to hold a consultation with Count Martinitz, and to concert with our loyal friends a fixed plan of operations."

"We shall be obliged to go very slowly and cautiously to work," said Count Adam thoughtfully. "We must first secure ourselves on all sides, and be sure of the result before we venture to assume the offensive. The most important thing now is to assure ourselves of the Emperor's favor and approval. You, my son, must repair forthwith to Regensburg, where the Emperor is at present. You will inform him that I have obtained orders from the Elector to release the troops from their oath to the Emperor, and to swear them into the Elector's service alone. You will say to his Majesty that I have declined to yield to this order, and in the oath administered to the officers have made their allegiance to the Elector quite secondary to their obligations to himself. You will further notify the Emperor that the soldiers' pay has been in arrears for a month, because all our coffers are empty. Therefore ask, in my name, if it would not perhaps be advisable, if we come to extremities, to take the Brandenburg troops into the Emperor's pay, to give them rations in the Emperor's name, and renew their oath to his Imperial Majesty. To effect this, we have only to stimulate a little the discontent of the troops. They are already tolerably desperate because they have not received their wages. If the Elector does not speedily pay off the troops, the desperation will reach its height, and a revolt break forth spontaneously."

"Thence it follows, most gracious sir, that they will become as wax to be molded at your will."

"You are right, my son; we must manage to retain authority over friend and foe. The troops here are a wild, lawless horde, knowing little of discipline and order, and bearing much closer resemblance to a robber band than a princely army. We must aim at having disciplined troops at hand, such as are accustomed to obedience, and to this end must introduce imperial troops into the Mark. Nothing further is necessary for this than to begin hostilities against the Swedes with renewed activity, drawing them down upon Berlin. It will then seem quite natural, considering the weakness of the forces here, to invite the aid of the Emperor and his troops in defending Berlin and protecting ourselves against the Swedes, but in truth to help us in this great movement against the seditious Elector, who would revolt against Emperor and empire.

"I commission you, my son, to unravel this whole scheme to the Emperor, and to petition him for his countenance. For, without the imperial approbation and without an assurance of success, we dare not proceed further in this dangerous undertaking. We must have some security, too, that the Emperor's Majesty will proportionately reward us if we gain the Mark for him, and rid him of that mutinous, heretical Elector."

"I shall above all things seek to come to an understanding with Father Silvio, and impress upon the Emperor's pious, zealous father confessor the extent of glory and blessing to be acquired in behalf of the Church and holy faith by wresting the Mark out of the hands of a heretic, and bestowing it upon a believing, true Catholic, such as the Stadtholder in the Mark. The father has the Emperor's ear, and, I believe, is favorably disposed toward me. I shall use every means for enlisting his favor, and it would be well to have some funds at my disposal for this purpose. Father Silvio, noble and pious though he be, loves money, and is not inaccessible to jewels and valuable gifts. He has in his apartments at Vienna costly collections of precious stones and rare gold and silver plate, and it affords him high gratification to add a few valuable pieces to them."

"We will take care of that," said Count Adam, smiling. "Choose out of our casket of gems a few things worthy the pious father's acceptance, and for money you can draw upon the bankers Fugger of Nuremberg. I recently deposited with them considerable sums, in case of emergency. They are safer there than here in this starved-out Mark, among the desperadoes of Berlin and Cologne, who have no affection for me, and perhaps some day may take it into their heads to demand relief from me for their poverty and want, and plunder me to enrich themselves. Among such a gaunt, hungry populace we must be prepared for everything, and it is wise to be insured against mishaps. In these present evil days, however, nothing but money can raise an army, and only he who has money can aspire to being a general."

"The little Elector of Brandenburg has no money!" cried Count Adolphus, "for which God be praised! He, therefore, can be no general. His troops and his land belong to us, and, like the Margrave of Jägerndorf and the Elector of the Palatinate, the deposed Elector of Brandenburg may soon be a wanderer in foreign lands, exposing his humiliation to the whole German Empire. Nowhere will he find compassion, nowhere sympathy, for he is a dangerous foe to all, and all will profit by his fall. Dear, honored father, let me depart this very hour for Regensburg, in order to obtain the Emperor's approval of our weighty plans, and to return to you the earlier with plenipotentiary powers."

"You are right, Adolphus, haste makes speed, and we must strike while the iron is hot. Set off, my son, this very hour if you choose. It will not be necessary for me to write to the Emperor by you. You know perfectly how to interpret my thoughts, and your spoken word is better than my written one. God speed you, then, my son, I shall expect daily dispatches from you, acquainting me with the progress of your negotiations."

"I shall write, father, and make use of the ciphers agreed upon between us. You have preserved the key, have you not?"

"I have preserved it in my head," replied the count, pointing to his forehead. "Important secrets should never be committed to paper, and I say with Charles V, 'If one carries a great secret in his head, he should burn his very nightcap, that it may not betray him.' Truly may it be said of us two that we carry an important secret in our heads. Instead of a nightcap I have burned the cipher key, that it may not one day betray us!"

"But the great secret will one day surprise the world," cried Count Adolphus joyfully; "its trumpet peals will one day startle the whole of Germany. From the palace balcony here in Berlin shall its triumphant flourishes ring forth. The people in the streets will hear them in astonishment, and to me they will sound as the rejoicing songs of the heavenly hosts, and enraptured I shall look up to my father, standing there majestic in the pomp of his princely power. If I may then fall at your feet, all the ambitious dreams and aspirations of my heart will be fulfilled, and all within me will rejoice and shout, 'Health and blessings upon Prince Schwarzenberg, Margrave of Brandenburg!' Farewell now, dear father! I hurry away, the earlier to return to you!"

V.--THE CATASTROPHE.

Their plans matured, and every day approached nearer to completion, while with firm hand Count Adam Schwarzenberg held the reins which guided the great machinery of insurrection. He had sent Colonel Goldacker with his regiment to Mecklenburg to draw out the Swedes, and to provoke them to advance upon the Mark. The Swedes took up the gauntlet thrown down to them, and, while they were opposed to Goldacker in Mecklenburg, other Swedish regiments marched from Lausitz against Berlin. This was exactly what the Stadtholder wished, and once more the devoted Mark saw the flames of war burst forth, in order that Schwarzenberg might have an excuse for summoning Saxon troops to his aid.

To-day these troops had reached Berlin, and the Stadtholder wished to celebrate their arrival by a sumptuous _fête_ in his palace. To this entertainment he had bidden Colonel Goldacker from Mecklenburg; the commandants of Spandow and Berlin, with their officers, were also invited, and already, in the early morning, they were preparing the table in the great hall for the magnificent collation to be served at noon.

Meanwhile lamentation and mourning reigned in the cities of Berlin and Cologne, while life went so merrily in the Schwarzenberg palace. The wild hordes of soldiers made the streets unsafe even in the daytime. Drunken they roved through the city, with the greatest tumult and uproar; they broke into the houses of peaceful citizens to plunder and rob, and wherever anything was refused them, they committed the most wanton acts, laughing and singing over the tortures they inflicted. In vain had the burghers applied to the officers of these ungovernable outlaws and besought them to restrain the soldiery from outrages, to confine them to their quarters, and to punish them for their thefts and robberies. The officers declared that there was no means of enforcing so rigid a discipline, and that in times of war some allowance should be made for soldiers who with their own bodies protected the burghers from their foes.

But the poor, tormented burghers did not want war; they wanted peace! Peace at any price. The States, too, who held their session in Berlin, wanted peace, and to this end had sent out a deputation from their midst to the Elector at Königsberg to implore him to pity their distress and to command the Stadtholder in the Mark to abstain from hostilities against the Swedes.

The same suit the citizens desired to present to the Stadtholder, and to-day, while preparations were in progress for a military entertainment in the Schwarzenberg palace, a solemn deputation of the magistracy and citizenship repaired to the same spot to lay before the Stadtholder their wishes and entreaties. Count Schwarzenberg kept them waiting a long while in his antechamber, and when he finally made his appearance his countenance was proud and haughty, and his eyes shot angry glances upon the poor representatives of the burghers, who stood with deprecating humility before him.

"What would you have of me, sirs?" he cried, in a rough voice. "What have you to say to me?"

"Most gracious sir," replied the burgomaster of Berlin, "we come to entreat the aid and assistance of your excellency in behalf of our afflicted cities. We are exhausted, hungry, plundered, driven to despair. We can no longer bear the frightful burden of war. Have compassion upon our affliction; make peace with the Swede, that he may not advance upon Berlin, that we may not be forced to appeal to foreigners for our defense."

"Make peace!" cried the burghers, stretching out their hands imploringly toward the Stadtholder, their eyes filled with tears. "O sir! we have borne sorrow and wretchedness for so many long, bitter years! Our hearts are crushed and desperate! Our souls are faint! Make peace, that we may see some end to our trials! We have no nourishment, no money, not even a shelter for our heads. The Swedes plundered us; the Imperialists took from us what the Swedes left; and now our own soldiers drive us out of our bare and empty dwellings, make sport of our calamities, mock the burghers, insult our wives and daughters, and quarter themselves in our houses, while we wander homeless about the streets, not even being able to procure shelter in our churches because the cavalry have taken possession of these with their horses, and converted the temples of God into filthy barracks! Make peace, Sir Stadtholder, make peace!"

"I have not power to do so," replied Count Schwarzenberg haughtily, "neither the power nor the will! The Swede is the enemy of our country, and we must resist him with all the means at our command. Cease your howling and shrieking, for it will be but in vain. War is upon us, and we can not as cowards retreat before it. Shame upon you for your pusillanimity and cowardice, since your men are still capable of bearing arms!"

"Sir, our men have no more strength for fighting. Our hands are too weak to hold a weapon."

"Oh, you will be forced to handle them!" cried Schwarzenberg, laughing scornfully. "When your houses are on fire, and you see your wives and children dragged off by soldiers, then these cowards will be turned into valiant warriors, who can at least defend their lives and the honor of their families! I tell you, though, it will come to that. Extremity is before you, and calls for terrible resolutions."[42]

The burghers broke into loud lamentations, a few threw themselves on their knees, others wept and wailed, while the lords of the magistracy approached nearer to the count in order to make confidential representations of the utter hopelessness and despondency of the two unhappy cities of Berlin and Cologne.

Schwarzenberg, however, turned away from these representations with stern composure. "I have not peace but war in hand," he said. "Why do you apply to me now when you think, nevertheless, that you can receive no good save from the Elector himself, who is your guardian angel, while I am the destroying one. Wait and see what news the deputation of the States will bring you from Königsberg. You besought the States in your time of trouble to appeal to the Elector himself. Well, be patient and await their return. However, I can tell you beforehand that they will bring you a refusal, for the Elector wishes war, and has given me orders to that effect. He has confirmed me in all my offices and dignities. He has most condescendingly assured me of his unlimited confidence, and empowered me to act according to my own unbiased judgment, and to guide the reins of government as I shall choose. I hold them tight, and shall not he turned out of my way by your whining and complaining. War is upon us, and should I have to lay Berlin in ashes to avoid giving a shelter and asylum to the Swedes, it shall be done, rather than conclude peace with them, yield to their degrading conditions, and give up Pomerania to them! I therefore advise you to be on good terms with the soldiers, to receive them kindly into your houses, to entertain them well--"

"Sir," interrupted the first burgomaster, with a bitter cry of distress--"sir, we have nothing with which we could entertain them, we--"

"Silence!" called out the Stadtholder, in a thundering voice--"silence! I have heard you out, and it is my turn now to speak, and yours to listen silently. Go and take your measures accordingly, and act as becomes obedient subjects."

He turned upon his heel and with proud bearing re-entered his cabinet, while the burghers sorrowfully slunk away, to spread throughout all Berlin the dreadful news that all their entreaties had been in vain, and that the war was to be prolonged.

"Yes, the war is to be prolonged," repeated Count Schwarzenberg, when he again found himself alone in his cabinet. "We approach the _dénouement_, and if I could only get decisive tidings from my son, I would hurry on a crisis and begin open war. He keeps me waiting for such tidings a very long while," continued the count, dropping into the armchair in front of his writing table. "He has only written once to me from Regensburg, and then he could only inform me that he had commenced operations, and--Ah!" he interrupted himself, as his glance fell upon his table, "there are papers and dispatches, which must have come in my absence. Perhaps there is among them a letter from my son."

He hastily snatched up the letters and examined one after another. No, there was no letter from his son, only official documents from the Elector's cabinet.

He opened the first of these, and a shudder ran through his whole frame as he read. In this paper the Elector commanded the Stadtholder in the Mark to send back to him the blank charters, intrusted to him by the Elector George William on his departure for Königsberg; he must, moreover, render a distinct and exact account of the manner in which he had disposed of the charters no longer in existence. _He_, Schwarzenberg, the mighty Stadtholder in the Mark, the Grand Master of the Knights of St. John, the Director of the War Department--_he_, to be called to account as a servant by his master! He was expected to answer for what he had done in the plenitude of his power, and--worse than that--he must suffer that power to be limited! He would do nothing of the sort; he would not give up the blank charters not yet appropriated and send them back to the Elector!

That was to curtail the privileges of his high position, to dethrone him, and, after having been an absolute master, to make him a dependent servant! These blank charters had been the princely prerogative of the Stadtholder, the scepter with which he ruled! These papers, on which nothing was written, but at the lower corner of which stood the Elector's sign manual--these papers had made him absolute monarch of the Mark. In free plenitude of power, with unfettered will, had he filled up the vacant sheets, bestowing by their means honors and benefits, inflicting punishments, imposing taxes, and the Elector's signature had legalized his decrees, and imparted the force of law to his will.[43]

And these blank charters, before which his enemies trembled, which had struck his partisans and friends as a precious attribute of his power--these blank charters he was now called upon to resign!

"I shall not do it," he exclaimed, in a loud, determined voice--"no, I shall not do it! I shall not be such a fool as to lessen my own power. No; the blank charters are mine, I shall know how to hold them fast!"

He threw the rescript aside and seized another letter. Again from the Elector's cabinet--again a command from him to the Stadtholder in the Mark!

He broke open the seal, unfolded the paper with trembling hands, and again shuddered as he read; and a momentary pallor overspread his cheeks. This writing contained the Elector's orders to suspend hostilities, and to refrain from any attack upon the Swedes and the places occupied by them, and most rigidly to confine himself to the defensive until an abiding peace could be concluded with Sweden.[44]

"You assail me, little Elector!" he said, with smothered, threatening voice. "You bring out your reserves against me, and would cause the proud edifice of my power to crumble away stone by stone! You fear lest if the great Colossus falls at once it might crush you, and therefore you would destroy it piecemeal, a little at a time! You shall not succeed, though, little Elector; the Colossus will rear its head on high, and you alone will fall!"

At this moment loud, angry and excited voices made themselves heard from the antechamber, and a lackey tore open the door.

"Your excellency, the Commandants von Rochow, von Kracht, and Colonel von Goldacker request an audience."

But the three gentlemen did not wait for the granting of this audience. With unseemly haste they rushed into the cabinet, unceremoniously thrust out the lackey, and closed the door behind him.

"Most gracious sir, do you know it?" screamed Rochow, the commandant of Spandow.

"Do you know, your excellency, what things are going on?" growled Kracht, the commandant of Berlin.

"Have you learned what bold steps the Elector is taking?" thundered Colonel Goldacker, shaking his fist in a most menacing way.

"I know nothing, gentlemen, have heard nothing! Speak, tell me what has happened!"

"It has happened that the Elector has sent commissioners to all our fortresses!" cried Herr von Rochow. "Two hours ago such a cursed fellow came to me at Spandow, and when he had delivered me his message I left the fool standing there without any answer, threw myself on my horse, and galloped off to confer with your excellency."

"And such a confounded popinjay has been with me, too!" growled Herr von Kracht. "He also imparted to me his Electoral message--command, the fellow called it. I did just like Commandant von Rochow, left him standing while I hurried off to your excellency."

"An Electoral mandate reached me also!" cried Colonel Goldacker, laughing. "I simply showed the jackanapes the door, laughed him to scorn, and am come to get my orders from your excellency!"

"But, gentlemen, with all this I know nothing and can not find out what has happened. Sir Commandant von Rochow, inform me. What is the matter?"

"The matter is, your excellency," said Herr von Rochow, gnashing his teeth, "that a commissioner from the Elector has come to me with his master's orders, to require an oath of allegiance to the Elector from myself and the whole garrison."

"A like order has the Elector's deputy handed to me!" cried the commandant of Berlin; "the fellow wanted to swear me and my men into the Elector's service."

"I, too, must give such an oath to the commissioner!" screamed Goldacker, "and my troops as well. What do you say to that, Sir Stadtholder in the Mark?"

Just now, however, the Stadtholder said nothing. He turned pale and tottered backward, until his hand rested upon a chair into which he sank. His head swam, a sudden dizziness seized him, and he was obliged to put his hand over his eyes, for everything was turning and whirling in a circle around him. In the vehemence of their own excitement the three gentlemen hardly observed this, and the count, with the energy of his strong will, speedily recovered his composure and presence of mind.

"Your excellency!" cried Commandant von Kracht, "do you not agree with us? Do you not find the Elector intolerably assuming?"

"I was silent because I was reflecting, gentlemen," said the count, drawing a deep breath. "This appearance of the commissioner empowered to administer to you your oaths of office is a challenge, thrown down to me by the Elector, for I am Director of the War Department, and to me alone should that duty have been committed of again binding the troops in the Mark to him by oath. He insults me, and thereby insults the Emperor, for you all know that the Emperor is your commander in chief, and that you dare never break the oath to the Emperor, which I took from you after the conclusion of the peace of Prague. You swore to do your duty for Emperor and Elector, and for this reason, on the recent accession of the present Elector, I only required the colonels to give me their hands in token of their obligations already assumed, for an oath is an oath, and you can not swear to serve one to-day and another to-morrow."

"We can not and will not, either," shouted Colonel Goldacker furiously. "I have given my word to the Emperor. I remain true to the Emperor, and the Emperor will protect us against the insolence of the little Elector."

"Yes, the Emperor will protect us," cried Colonel von Rochow. "I shall take no new oath, for I have sworn to the Emperor, and not until the Emperor has released me from the oath, and I have made a new agreement with the Elector, can I swear to him. Until that time the oath which I have taken to the Emperor remains binding." [45]

"I, too, have sworn to serve the Emperor, and shall abide by my oath," said the commandant of Berlin, as if weighing each word. "No one has a right to command here but the Emperor and the Stadtholder in the Mark, whom the Elector himself appointed. What that vagabond of a commissioner says is nothing to the purpose--it signifies nothing to us."

"No, it signifies nothing to us," repeated the other gentlemen. "From you alone, Sir Stadtholder, can we receive orders, for you are Director of the Council of War, the representative of the Emperor and Elector. To you alone we belong. Give us your orders; we are here to receive them!"

"Gentlemen," said the Stadtholder, pointing with his finger to a sealed packet, lying on the writing table before him--"gentlemen, you interrupted me by your entrance in the perusal of important dispatches, which had just arrived for me from the Elector's cabinet. See, there lies an unopened writing with the Electoral seal. Allow me to read it, for it contains the Elector's commands, which may harmonize with those of his accredited commissioner, or at least enter into particulars with regard to them."

The three officers bowed and reverentially retreated a few steps; but their eyes rested with intense interest upon the count, who now broke the seal and unfolded the paper. A deep silence followed. The piercing glances of the three warriors rested on the count's countenance, which maintained steadfastly its grave, serious expression. But now a scornful laugh burst from him, 'and for a moment an expression of wild joy illuminated his features. He rose, and with the paper in his hand approached the soldiers. "Gentlemen," he said quietly, "I have a piece of news to communicate to you, which I fear will incommode you and your men a little, and is not calculated to heighten the love of the military for their chief. The Elector commands me, until further notice, to put the troops upon summer allowance, and the payment now in arrears is regarded as coming under the same regulation. I beg you will inform your troops of this."

"That is shameful! That is contemptible! That will put the soldiers in a perfect fury!" screamed the three officers together.

"I do not mean to tell my men!" exclaimed Herr von Rochow--"no, I shall not tell them, for the fellows would be frantic, and in their desperation might commit shameful acts!"

"I shall tell my men on the spot!" grumbled Herr von Kracht. "I shall tell them on purpose to make them desperate, to make them rave! As far as I am concerned, they are welcome to vent their spleen upon all Berlin, upon the whole region round about. Let them go around, plundering and laying the country under contribution; they are justified in doing so, for the fellows can not subsist in winter on summer allowance, and therefore must rob and plunder."

"I shall tell my soldiers directly, too," shouted Herr von Goldacker. "Not but that it will give rise to a pretty tale of murder, a devilish scandal. There will result a military out-break, and the burghers of Berlin and Cologne may look to themselves; but the Elector has so willed it--the Elector excites us as well as our subordinates to open insurrection. Let him work his will now; it will only convince him that we are not to be ruled by scraps of paper and decrees scribbled by feather-headed clerks, and that he is not the irresistible lord, to whose piping we dance. The little Elector shall be made to know that the Emperor alone is our supreme officer, to him we have sworn fealty, and to him we cling despite the Elector and all his deputies. I am going on the spot to give my commissioner his dismissal--to tell him that I shall not swear, and then to carry to my soldiers the news of their having been put upon summer allowance!"

"I will go with you," cried Herr von Kracht. "I will also put my commissioner out of the door, and convey the glad tidings to the garrison of Berlin."

"And I," said Herr von Rochow, "will forthwith dispatch a courier to Spandow, to tell my lieutenant that he must send the commissioner out of the fort, and tell the garrison that they are put on summer allowance. It will stir up a fine hub-bub, I am sure of that."

"I, too, believe that the end will not be perfect peace," said the Stadtholder, smiling. "Let the Elector learn that governing is not such an easy matter as he supposes, but that a man may know a good deal, and yet be an unskillful ruler. Go then, gentlemen, issue your orders, but forget not that in an hour our entertainment begins, and that we must not allow our feast to be disturbed by such little follies of the new _regime_."

"No, we will not allow ourselves to be disturbed!" cried Herr von Rochow. "In one hour expect us here again, and you shall see, most gracious sir, that we have brought with us our cheerfulness, our fine appetites, and our thirst."

"Yes, yes, your excellency, guard well your keys and bottles; we shall take the field against them."

"Do so, gentlemen," said the count. "But go now, to return the sooner."

He nodded kindly to the officers and followed them with his eyes until the door closed behind them. Then the composure of his features, the smile on his lip, vanished, and his whole being seemed to express agitation and bitterness of wrath.

"He will insist upon war," he said fiercely. "He smiles upon and strokes me with one hand, while with the other he stabs me, inflicting wound upon wound. Yes, yes, stone by stone he would crumble to dust the tower of my strength, and thinks to crush me to atoms, supposing that I will voluntarily bend to avoid being bent by him. Oh, you are mistaken, little Elector; I am not afraid of you, I shall not bend before you! The Emperor alone I serve, to him alone I am subject. But to me the Emperor is a gracious master. He will ruin you and exalt me; he will protect me against your arrogance. To me belongs the future, presumptuous young Prince! who would rule here, where I have held undisputed sway for twenty years. To me alone belongs the Mark, and I shall hold it for my lord and Emperor! The crisis has come, and finds me prepared and resolute. The troops will revolt, and then shall I step out among them, appease them in the Emperor's name, with lavish hand scatter money among them, and again bind them by oath to the Emperor! Oh, my heart leaps for joy, for the hour of action has come. Only one thing I lack. I would just like to have certain news from my son, to be sure that the Emperor approves of my plan, that he will lift me up where the Elector would cast me down. But this, too, will come, this wish will also be gratified. For I am a son of good fortune, and all goes in accordance with my wishes! Away then with all sad and gloomy thoughts! I would present a cheerful countenance to my guests--I would appear before them in the full splendor of my glory!"

He repaired to his dressing room, where his valets arrayed him in the magnificent habit of a Grand Master of the Knights of St. John, and upon his breast shone the cross of the order set with sparkling brilliants. Having completed his toilet, he went to the great mirror and, casting a cursory glance therein, said to himself with some satisfaction that his person was still stately and distinguished, well suited to a reigning prince and fitted for wearing a crown! This thought lighted up his countenance with joyful pride, and with high head he returned to his cabinet. Chamberlain von Lehndorf entered, to inform his most noble master that the guests were already assembled in the great reception room, and longingly awaited his appearance. The chamberlain handed the count his ermine-tipped velvet cap, with its long white ostrich plumes, and then flew before to open for him the doors leading to the small antechamber, where were assembled all the officers of the count's household, waiting to follow their master into the hall.

Lehndorf stood at the door of the antechamber, and the Stadtholder smiled upon him as he passed.

"No letters and dispatches from my son at Regensburg, Lehndorf?"

"None, most gracious sir."

"If a courier comes, let me know of it without delay," continued the count, moving forward. "Anything else new, Lehndorf?"

"Nothing new, your excellency."

"What noise was that just now in the antechamber, while the commandants were in my cabinet?"

"Most gracious sir, an insolent soldier--one of those Saxons who marched in yesterday--forced himself into the antechamber, and with real importunity begged to speak to your excellency."

"Why did you not bid him wait until the gentlemen had, gone, and then announce him?"

"He would not consent to wait by any means, and with brazen face demanded to see your excellency on the spot. The fellow was drunk, it was plain to see, and in his intoxication: kept crying out that he must talk with your excellency about an important secret; if you would not admit him directly, he would go to Prussia and tell your secret to the Elector, which would bring your honor to the scaffold. It was positively ridiculous to hear the fellow talk, and the lackeys, instead of getting angry, laughed outright at him, which only enraged him the more; he worked his arms and legs like a jumping jack and made faces like a nut-cracker. However, when he again presumed to abuse your grace, our people made short work of the drunken knave, and thrust him out of doors."

"Well, I hope his airing will do him good," said the count, smiling, "and that he came to his senses on the street."

"It seems not, though," replied Chamberlain von Lehndorf, making a signal to the halberdiers stationed on both sides of the doors of the grand reception hall that they should open the door--"no, it seems that the airing did the drunken soldier no good. For, only think, gracious sir, just now, as I passed through the front entry to get to your apartments, there the man stood, and as soon as he saw me he sprang at me, seized my arm, and whispered: 'Chamberlain von Lehndorf, I _must_ speak to the Stadtholder. Only tell him my name, and I know that he will receive me.'"

"And did he tell you his name, Lehndorf?" asked the count, as he walked forward.

"Yes indeed, noble sir," laughed the chamberlain; "with monstrously important air he whispered his name in my ear, as if he had been the Pope in disguise or the Emperor himself. I laughed outright, and left him standing."

The count now stood close before the wide-open doors which led into the grand reception hall. The halberdiers struck upon the ground with their gold-headed staves; in the spacious, magnificently decorated hall appeared a dense throng of army officers in their glittering uniforms and civil dignitaries in their ceremonial garbs of office. Six pages, in richly embroidered velvet suits, stood on both sides of the door, while in the raised gilded balcony opposite the musicians arose and began to pour forth a thundering peal of welcome as soon as they caught sight of the Stadtholder.

Count Schwarzenberg, however, took no notice of this; he stood upon the threshold of the door, and his smiling face was still turned upon his chamberlain.

"What name did the fellow give?" asked he carelessly.

"Oh, a very fine name, gracious sir. He had the same name as the blessed archangel--Gabriel!"

"Gabriel?" echoed the count hastily and at the top of his voice, for the musicians played so loud that a man could hardly hear his own voice, even though he shouted. "Only Gabriel, nothing further?"

"Yes, most gracious sir," screamed the chamberlain, "he did call a second name; but I confess _I_ did not pay much attention to it. I believe, though, it was Nietzel. Yes, yes, I am quite sure he said Gabriel Nietzel!"

He shouted this out very loud, not observing, as he pronounced his last words, that the music had ceased; the name Gabriel Nietzel, therefore, rang like a loud call through the vast apartment, and the brilliant, courtly assemblage laughed, although they understood not the connection between the loud call and the hushing of the music. Chamberlain von Lehndorf laughed too, and turned smiling to the count to apologize for his involuntary transgression.

But Count Schwarzenberg did not laugh; he looked pale, and with trembling lips addressed his chamberlain: "Lehndorf, hurry out and conduct the soldier to my antechamber. Tell him I will come to him directly. Do not let the man get out of your sight, watch him closely. In five minutes, as soon as I have welcomed my guests, I will come to the antechamber and speak to the fellow myself. Go!"

The chamberlain flew off to obey this behest, and the Stadtholder entered the hall. Behind him were ranged the twelve pages in their glittering clothes, then followed the officers of the household in splendid uniforms. Again the trumpets of the musicians sent forth their animating peals, and, ranged around the hall in a wide circle, the staff officers, high dignitaries, lords of the supreme court and of the magistracy, all with the insignia of their rank, bowed reverentially before the almighty lord, who now made his progress through the hall amid the clashing of trombones and trumpets. He passed along the brilliant rows of guests with quick, hurried step, but while his lips wore a smile, he thought to himself, "When this abominable ceremony is over and I have completed the circuit, I shall absent myself; I shall see if it is the veritable Gabriel Nietzel, the--"

Just at this moment Chamberlain von Lehndorf approached him, and bent close to his ear. "Most gracious sir!" he cried amid the clash of trumpets--"most gracious sir, the man is no longer there. He has gone and can no longer be seen in the street!"

The Stadtholder gave a slight nod of the head, and proceeded to bid his guests welcome.

VI.--REVENGE.

Sumptuous was the feast, choice were the viands, and costly the fragrant wines. The guests of the Stadtholder in the Mark were full of rapture, full of admiration, and their lips were lavish in praises of the noble count, while their eyes shone brighter from partaking of the generous wine. The lackeys flew up and down the hall, waiting upon the guests, the pages stood behind the count's chair, and offered his excellency food and drink in vessels of gold. At first they sat at table with grave and dignified demeanor, but gradually the delicious viands enlivened their hearts, the glowing wine loosened their tongues, and now they laughed and talked merrily and gave themselves entirely up to the pleasures of the table. Louder swelled the hum of mingled voices. Peals of laughter rang through the banquet hall, until in their turn they were drowned by bursts of dashing music, whose inspiring strains blended with the animated tones of the human voice. Count Adam Schwarzenberg, who sat at the upper end of the table under a canopy of purple velvet, heard all this, and yet it seemed to him like a dream, and as if all this bustle, laughing, and merrymaking came to him from the distant past. He heard the confusion of voices, the clangor of the music, but it sounded hollow in his ear, and above all rang fearfully distinct the name which Lehndorf had pronounced--Gabriel Nietzel! His guests sang and laughed, but he heard only that one name--Gabriel Nietzel!

Round about the long table he saw only glad faces, beaming eyes, and flushed cheeks, but he saw them vanish and other faces arise before his inner eye, faces of the past! There sat the Elector George William, with his easy, good-natured countenance. He nodded smilingly at him, and his glance, full of affection, rested upon _him_, the favorite. Yes, he had loved him dearly, that good Elector! Out of the little, insignificant Count Schwarzenberg he had made a mighty lord, had exalted him into a Stadtholder, into the most powerful subject in his realm! And how had he requited him?

"Gabriel Nietzel! Gabriel Nietzel!" He heard the maddening words ringing clearly and distinctly above the din of music, song, and laughter--"Gabriel Nietzel!"

There he stood in page's dress, across there, behind the chair of the young Electoral Prince, whose pale, noble features had just begun to quiver convulsively--there he stood and cast a look of intelligence at _him_, Count Schwarzenberg.

"Gabriel Nietzel! Gabriel Nietzel!"

Ever thus rang the echo through the hall, and however varied the medley of sounds, to him all was embodied in that name. For long months he had caused search to be made for him, but nobody had been able to bring him any tidings of Gabriel Nietzel's whereabouts. So, gradually, he had forgotten him, and his anxiety about him had died away. Why must this dreaded name make itself heard again to-day, just to-day, when he was inaugurating the bright days of his future with this splendid feast? Why must that hateful name mingle with the rejoicings of his merry guests?

He would think of it no more, no more allow himself to be haunted by phantoms of the past! Away with memories, away with that unhappy name! Vehemently, indignantly he shook his lofty head, as if these memories were only troublesome insects to be driven away by the mere wrinkling of his brow. He even called a smile to his lips, and with a proud effort at self-control arose from his armchair and lifted the golden beaker on high, in his right hand.

If he spoke himself, he would no longer hear that perpetual ringing and singing within his breast--"Gabriel Nietzel! Gabriel Nietzel!"

He lifted the golden beaker yet higher and bowed right and left to his guests, who had risen to their feet and looked at him full of expectancy.

"To the health of the Emperor Ferdinand, our most gracious Sovereign and lord!"

The musicians struck their most triumphant melody; with loud huzzas and shouts the guests repeated, "To the health of our most gracious lord and Emperor!"

"Gabriel Nietzel! Gabriel Nietzel!" Still it rang in Schwarzenberg's ears, and he sank back in his armchair and felt a sense of helpless despondency creep over his heart.

The guests followed his example and resumed their seats. A momentary silence ensued. All at once Chamberlain von Lehndorf rose from his place, took his glass with him, and went along the table to the Counselor of the Exchequer von Lastrow, who was carrying on an earnest conversation in an undertone with the burgomaster of Berlin. The chamberlain's face was flushed with wine, his eyes sparkled, and his gait was so wavering and unsteady that even the goblet in his hand swung to and fro.

"Counselor von Lastrow," he said, with loud, peremptory voice, "you refused to drink the health proposed by his excellency the Stadtholder in the Mark. The toast was to his Majesty our lord and Emperor. You did not lift up your glass, nor touch that of your neighbor. Wherefore was this? Why did you not drink to the welfare of our lord and Emperor?"

"I will tell you why, Chamberlain von Lehndorf," replied Herr von Lastrow, leaping up and confronting the chamberlain in his gay uniform, with dagger dangling at his side--"I will tell you why I did not accept the Stadtholder's toast, and may all his guests hear and ponder. I thank you, Sir Chamberlain, for affording me an opportunity of expressing myself openly and candidly on this subject. Permit me, gentlemen, to answer in the hearing of you all the question which the chamberlain has addressed to me."

As the counselor thus spoke his large black eyes surveyed both sides of the long table. All present were silenced, all eyes were directed to the lower end of the table, and each one listened with strained attention to hear the answer of Herr von Lastrow.

Count Schwarzenberg had risen from his chair and given the rash chamberlain a look of displeasure. Yet he felt so embarrassed by his own anxiety that he dared not call him.

"Gabriel Nietzel! Gabriel Nietzel!" rang ever in his ears, frightening away all other sounds, until they seemed to reach him only as dim and hollow echoes from afar.

"Gentlemen!" cried Herr von Lastrow now, in a loud voice, "I did not drink the Stadtholder's toast because it would have been contrary to my duty and my oath. Ferdinand is Emperor of the German Empire, and as such we owe him reverence and respect, but when the toast styles him our lord and Emperor I can not respond to it, for Ferdinand is not my lord! No, the Elector Frederick William is my master, and now I lift my glass and cry, 'Long live Frederick William, our lord and Elector!'"

"Long live Frederick, our lord and Elector!" shouted voices here and there at the table, and all followers of the Elector sprang from their seats, held aloft their glasses, and shouted again and again, "Long live Frederick William, our lord and Elector!"

"Strike up, musicians!" called Herr von Lastrow to the balcony, where the musicians sat, who lifted their trombones and trumpets and put them to their lips. But before a note was struck, Lehndorf shouted fiercely up to them: "Silence! Dare not to blow a single blast! I forbid you in the name of our master, the Emperor!"

A wild yell of indignation from the Electoralists and a loud burst of applause from the Imperialists followed these words. Nobody remembered any longer that he was there as the guest of Schwarzenberg, the proud count and Stadtholder. All prudence, all sense of respect was swallowed up in the storms of political passion. With threatening aspect and flashing eyes stood the Electoralists and Imperialists opposite each other, and, while the former lifted up their glasses, to touch them in honor of their Sovereign and Elector, the latter knocked their glasses tumultuously on the table, and broke out into loud laughter and deafening imprecations. No one any longer paid honor to the master of the house--no one thought of him, in fact. He had risen from his seat with the intention of going to the other end of the table, where now a furious duel of words was progressing between his chamberlain and Herr von Lastrow. He desired to pacify them, to smooth over the contention; but it was already too late, for ere he had reached the middle of the hall, a catastrophe had occurred between the contending parties. Counselor von Lastrow raised his arm, and administered to Chamberlain Lehndorf a sounding box upon the cheek.

One unanimous shriek of rage from the Imperialists, and they rushed toward Lehndorf and drew their swords. Behind Lastrow the Electoralists ranged themselves, and they, too, laid bare their weapons.

Count Schwarzenberg tottered back. He perceived that it was too late to pacify now, that all temporizing had become impossible. He had a feeling that he must flee away, that it did not comport with his dignity to stand there powerless and inactive between two factions. In this moment of weakness and indecision his confidential valet approached him.

"Most gracious sir," he whispered, "a courier from Regensburg, from Count John Adolphus, has just arrived. I have already laid the letter upon your excellency's writing table. It is marked 'urgent.'"

Count Schwarzenberg turned to hurry from the hall, to escape the wild tumult, to take refuge in his cabinet, and, above all things, to read the long-expected letter from his son.

The uproar in the hall waxed ever fiercer, weapons clashed and wild battle cries resounded. He quickened his pace, and opened the door of the hall. Behind him rang out a piercing shriek, a death cry! Quivering in every fiber of his being the count turned round to--Once more that piercing shriek was heard, and Herr von Lastrow, with Lehndorf's dagger in his breast, fell backward into the arms of his friends with the death rattle in his throat.[46]

Count Schwarzenberg, seized with horror, rushed on through the deserted, brilliantly lighted apartments--on, ever on. But that fearful shriek went with him, ringing ever in his ears. It drove him onward like a fury, and his hair stood on end and his heart beat to bursting.

He had heard it once before, that death cry!

In the stillness of night it had sounded that time in the castle of Berlin, when a pale woman had knelt at his feet and pleaded for her life! Often had he heard it since; it had awakened him from sleep, it had often startled him when engaged in merry conversation with his friends; at the festive board it had drowned the music as far as he was concerned, this death cry, this Fury of his conscience!

At last he reached his cabinet. He threw himself into a chair. God be thanked, he was alone here! He had quiet and solitude here!

He surveyed the room and an infinite feeling of relief and security came over him.

Alone!

"Gabriel Nietzel! Gabriel Nietzel!" was whispered in his heart, and he looked timidly around, as if he feared to see him in each corner. Then a shriek resounded in his ear--that death cry!

It had penetrated into his quiet cabinet, she stood behind him, she screamed in his ear, "Gabriel Nietzel! Rebecca!"

Perfectly unmanned, the count leaned back in his easychair, the sweat standing in great drops upon his brow. He no longer even remembered that he had come there to read his son's important letter! His soul was shattered in its inmost depths. Gabriel Nietzel was there again! A murder had been committed in his house--at his table! Committed, too, by his own servant, his favorite, his friend! He durst not pardon him; he must punish the murderer according to the law. He must pronounce sentence of death on him, who had slain his fellow-man! He foresaw this in the future! He saw himself as judge, the viceregent of God and justice, opposite the pale criminal, his servant, his friend, upon whom he pronounced sentence!

He! Would his lips dare to utter a sentence of death? Dared the murderer condemn?

"Gabriel Nietzel! Gabriel Nietzel! Rebecca! Rebecca!" screamed the voice behind his chair. But hark! what noise is that? What means that confused jumble of groans and yells and shouts--that howling as of fierce and sweeping winds, that roar as of the mighty deep? What is that so like the rolling of thunder? Are those wolflike howls the voices of men? Is that the tramp of human feet? Before his windows it surges and dashes, howls and roars!

With difficulty Schwarzenberg rises from his chair, and, creeping to the window, conceals himself behind the hangings and cautiously looks out upon the street. A dense throng of soldiers surges beneath his windows; the whole street, the whole square is packed with them. Angry faces, the voices of furious men, hundreds upon hundreds of uplifted fists and portentous growls!

"He shall pay us our money! He wants to cheat us out of our pay! He wants to put us upon summer allowance and pocket the rest of the money! It is said this is done by the Elector's command. But it is a lie, an abominable lie! Schwarzenberg lets nobody command him. He is master here. He wants us to starve that his own riches may be increased. We will not suffer it! He shall pay us for it! Hurrah! Storm the house!"

"A mutiny!" muttered Count Schwarzenberg. "They were to have rebelled, and so they do. But they rebel against me! I flung down the sword, and its point is turned against myself. So the spirits of hell grant what they have promised us--what we have purchased at the price of our souls! They give the reward, but even while they are paying it out to us it becomes a curse and ruins us!"

How they storm and rage and roar without! How they beat and hammer against the locked doors! Count Schwarzenberg stands behind the window and hears them! He hears other voices, too--Goldacker, Kracht, and Rochow endeavoring to calm them, exhorting them to be patient.

Futile efforts! Ever louder grow the knocking and thundering against the house. Stones are hurled against the walls, the window shutters rattle and are shivered to pieces, the doors creak and give way.

"If they attempt to murder me, I shall not stand on the defensive," murmurs Count Schwarzenberg to himself, as he retires from the window, slowly traverses the apartment, and again sinks down upon the chair by his writing table. The door of the cabinet is violently torn open, and in rush the Commandants von Kracht and von Rochow, followed by the captains of their regiments.

"Gracious sir, it is impossible to calm these madmen. They no longer heed orders. They are beside themselves with rage. They have already broken open the doors and forced their way into the entrance hall. They will plunder and despoil the whole palace! We can save nothing more, prevent nothing more! You are lost, so are we, and all Berlin!"

"Be it so!" says Schwarzenberg loftily. "Let the whole earth fall down and overwhelm me in its ruins. I shall but be buried beneath them!"

"Gracious sir, only hear! The howling and yelling come ever nearer, and are continually gaining in strength! Gracious sir, have pity upon us, upon yourself! Save us all!"

"Save? How can I save any one? Will those savage hordes obey me, when they refuse submission to you, their officers?"

"Gracious sir, they demand their pay! They demand money! Nothing will appease them but money, and assurances that they shall have their winter allowance. Give us money to quiet that raging host! Money--money!"

"How much would you have? How much is needful to tame that fierce, wild horde?"

"Three hundred dollars!" calls out Herr von Kracht.

"No; four hundred dollars!" shouts Herr von Rochow.

"Five hundred dollars!" growls Herr von Goldacker. "No, give us six hundred dollars, which would do the thing thoroughly."

"Well, be it six hundred dollars then," says the count, with an expression of contemptuous scorn. "Stay here, gentlemen; I will return directly. I am only going to fetch the money."

He left the cabinet and entered his sleeping apartment, where, at the side of the bed, stood the great iron chest to which he alone had the key. After a few minutes he rejoined the officers in his cabinet. He had six rolls of money in his hand, two of which he handed to each of the three gentlemen.

"Here, gentlemen," he said, with bitter mockery, "here are the commandants who have authority to bring their troops to order. Go and show them to your men, and order them to follow these commandants to the cathedral square, and there distribute the money among them."

The gentlemen wished to thank him, but with a wave of his hand he pointed them to the door, and they hurried out to their soldiers.

Schwarzenberg looked after them, and listened to the rumbling and roaring without in the entrance hall of his house. Suddenly it became gentler, and finally ceased altogether. Then, after a pause, rang forth a loud shout of joy, and again the street filled with soldiers, again was heard the loud tramp of feet, the uproar and confusion of many tongues. "The wretches have marched off," murmured Count Schwarzenberg to himself. "Yes, yes, with money we buy love, with money hatred and--"

"Hurrah! Long live Count Schwarzenberg!" sounded below his windows. "Long live the Stadtholder in the Mark!"

"That shout costs me six hundred dollars," said he, shrugging his shoulders. "To-morrow, most likely the mob will come again to threaten me, that I may again purchase a cheer from them. Well, for the present at least I have rest. Nobody shall disturb me. Nobody shall intrude upon me."

He stepped to the doors leading into his sleeping room and antechamber, and bolted them both. He did not think of the secret door which led to the little corridor and thence to the private staircase, and did not bolt that. Why should he have done so? The steps were so little used, so few knew of them, so few, of the existence of the little side door which led to them. It was not necessary to lock that door, for no one would come to him in that way.

He was alone, God be praised, quite alone! And now again he remembered the important letter, which he had forgotten while the soldiers' riot was in progress. There lay his son's letter, on his writing table. He hastened thither and seated himself in the armchair, taking up the letter and examining its address. The sight of his son's handwriting rejoiced his heart, as a greeting from afar.

He drew a deep sigh of relief. All anguish, all cares had left him as soon as he took his son's letter in his hand. Even the warning voice in his heart had hushed, even the Fury no longer stood behind his chair; he no longer heard her death cry. All was silent in that spacious apartment behind him, on which he turned his back.

He took the letter, broke the seal, and slowly unfolded the paper. But now he put off reading its contents for one moment more. This sheet of paper contained the decision of his whole future, it would either exalt him into a reigning prince by bringing him the Emperor's sanction, or lower him into an underling of the Elector, making him a nobody, if--But no, it was impossible! The Emperor would not disavow him! It was folly to think of such a thing!

He fixed his eyes on the paper and began to read. But as he read, his breath came ever quicker, his cheeks became more pale, his brow more clouded. His hands began to tremble so violently that the paper which they held rattled and shook, and finally dropped on the table.

Motionless and gasping for breath the count sat there, staring at the letter. Then its contents flashed through him like a sudden shock, and, collecting his faculties, he once more snatched up the paper.

"It is impossible!" he cried aloud, "I read falsely! That can not be! My eyes surely deceived me! My ears shall lend their evidence! I will hear my sentence of condemnation!"

And with loud voice, occasionally interrupted by the convulsive groans which escaped his breast, he read: "I am grieved to announce to you, beloved and honored father, that our affairs have not prospered, as we hoped and expected. Through the intercession of good Father Silvio, I had a long interview yesterday with the Emperor. And the result of it is this: The Emperor loves you, it is true; he calls you his most faithful servant, and promises ever to be a gracious Sovereign to you, but he will never further your projects of becoming an independent ruler, and will not assist you to effect the Elector's ruin, that you may usurp his place. He rather wishes you to remain what you are--Stadtholder in the Mark--and to exert all your energies in maintaining that position, since the Emperor relies upon your good offices for securing him an ally in the Elector. The Mark is to remain Frederick William's domain, but the Elector must become an Imperialist. Such is the will and pleasure of the Emperor. He urged me to beg you to evince more complaisance and deference for the Elector, that you may acquire influence over him. The Emperor had been much shocked by the news sent him from Königsberg by Martinitz. It appears certain from this information, my dear father, that the Elector is much set against you, and that he only makes use of your continuance in office as a mask, behind which he may, unseen, direct his missiles against you. The Elector has taken your refusal to come to Königsberg upon his invitation in very ill part, and it has excited his highest displeasure. We have played a dangerous game, and I fear we have lost it."

"Lost!" screamed the count, crushing the paper in his hand into a ball and dashing it to the ground. "Yes, I have lost and am ruined! The end and aim of my whole life are defeated! I aimed at the summit, and when I have nearly reached my goal an invisible hand hurls me back, and I am plunged into an abyss!"

"As serves you right, for God is just!" said a solemn voice behind him, and a hand was laid heavily upon his shoulder.

Count Schwarzenberg uttered a shriek of horror and turned round. A soldier stood behind him--an Imperial soldier in dirty, tattered garments, a poor, miserable man. And yet the count sprang from his chair, as if in the presence of some prince or superior being before whom he must bow with reverence. With bowed head he stood before this soldier, and dared not look him in the face!

Yes, it was a prince, it was a superior being before whom he bowed! He stood before his judge, he stood before his conscience! He knew it, he felt it! A cold hand was laid upon his heart and contracted it convulsively; it was laid upon his head and bowed it low. Death was there, and his name was Gabriel Nietzel!

"Gabriel Nietzel!" murmured his ashy pale lips, "Gabriel Nietzel!"

"You recognize me, then?" said the soldier quietly and coldly. "Look at me, count, lift your eyes upon me! I want to see your countenance!"

With a last effort of strength Count Schwarzenberg resumed his self-control. He raised his head, affecting his usual proud and self-satisfied air. "Gabriel Nietzel!" he cried, "Whence come you? What would you have of me? How did you come in here?"

"How did I come in?" repeated he. "Through yon door!"

And he pointed at the door opening upon the secret staircase. "I came twice and begged to be allowed access to you, but was refused. This time I admitted myself. You once sent me down the secret stairway, and pointed out that mode of exit to me yourself, when your son was coming to visit you. What do I want? I want you to give me my wife, my Rebecca; and if you have murdered her, I want _your life_!"

"Would you murder me?" exclaimed the count in horror, while moving slowly backward. Keeping his eyes fixed upon Gabriel Nietzel, he sought to gain the door to his bedchamber. But Nietzel guessed his design and disdainfully shook his head. "Do not take that trouble," he said. "I have abstracted both keys and put them in my pocket. You can not escape me."

Count Schwarzenberg's eyes darted a quick, involuntary glance across at the round table on which stood his bell. Nietzel intercepted this glance and understood that the count meant to call his people. He took up the bell and thrust it into his bosom.

"Give up your efforts to evade me," he said. "God sends me to you. God will punish your crime by means of this hand, which you once bribed to commit a murderous deed. Count Schwarzenberg, you have acted the part of the devil toward me! You have robbed me of my soul! Give it back to me! I demand of you my soul!"

"He is insane," said Count Schwarzenberg, softly to himself. But Nietzel caught his meaning.

"No," he said sorrowfully--"no, I am not insane. God has denied me that consolation. I know what has been, and what is. There was a time--a glorious, blessed time--when I forgot everything, when all pain was banished, and I was happy--ah, so happy! They said, indeed, that I was mad; they called it sickness, forsooth, and locked me up, and tormented me. But I was so happy, for _I_ saw my Rebecca always before me, she was ever at my side and--Count, where have you left my Rebecca? Where is she? Give her to me! I will have her again, my own Rebecca! Give her back to me, directly, on the spot!"

He seized him with both his arms, his hands clutching his shoulders like claws. "Where is Rebecca--my Rebecca?"

Gabriel Nietzel stared at the count with frenzied fury, with devouring grief. Schwarzenberg cast down his eyes, a shudder passed over his frame, and terror-stricken he turned his head. It seemed to him as if, while Gabriel pressed upon his shoulders in front, some one came stealthily up to him from behind. He heard a cry--a death cry! The Fury was there again! He could not escape her now!

"Let me go, Gabriel Nietzel," he said feebly. "Quit your hold, go away. I will give you treasures, honors, distinctions, if you only quit your hold and go away!"

"What will you give me, if I let you go?" screamed Gabriel Nietzel, tightening his grasp and shaking him violently. "What will you give me?"

"I will give you a fine house, I will give you thousands, I will give you rank and titles. Tell me what you want, and I will give it to you!"

"Give me Rebecca! I want _her_ and her alone! Tell me where she is or I will kill you!"

"She is in my house at Spandow," said the count hastily. "Come, we will go away. You shall have your Rebecca again. Come, let us go! Rebecca is longing for you! Come!"

"You are deceiving me!" laughed Gabriel Nietzel. "I see it in your eyes, you are deceiving me. You want me to open the doors, and then you will call your people. There is no truth in what you say. Rebecca is not at Spandow; I know that, for I have been there. I stood many hours before the windows of your palace and called upon her name. She would have heard if she had been there; she would have come to me--she would have freed me from all my sufferings. For, you must know, my Rebecca loved me! Because she loved me, that she might expiate the crime which you had tempted me to commit, that she might lift the weight of sin from my head, she went back to Berlin and bade me go on with our child. I had solemnly sworn that to her, and I kept my oath. I went on, following the route we had agreed upon together. I waited for her at every resting place, and always waited in vain. I came to Venice, and went to the house of Rebecca's father; but she was not there. I wanted to go in search of her, but they held me fast, they imprisoned me in a dark dungeon. And there I sat a whole century, and yet was patient, ever waiting for the moment when I might escape from them and go to look for my Rebecca. And at last the moment came. The jailer entered to bring me my food; we were quite alone, and they had taken off my chains, for I had been harmless and gentle for some months past. I seized him, choked him, so that he could not scream, took his keys, and fled. God helped me; he always pities the poor and unfortunate--he knew that I wanted to search for Rebecca. I came to Germany; I enlisted as a soldier, for I durst not die of hunger, else I could not reach Berlin and find my Rebecca. But now I am here, and ask you in the name of God and in view of the judgment day, where is Rebecca?"

"I do not know," murmured Count Schwarzenberg, whom Gabriel Nietzel still held closely pinioned in his grasp.

"You do not know?" shrieked Gabriel Nietzel. "I read it in your face, you have murdered her. Yes, yes, I see it, I feel it--you have murdered her! Confess it, wretch! fall down upon your knees and confess that you have murdered Rebecca!"

Schwarzenberg would have denied it, but he could not; conscience paralyzed his tongue, so that it could not utter the falsehood. He wanted to make resistance against those dreadful hands which held him fast, but he had no more power. Everything swam before him, there was a roaring in his ears, his knees tottered and shook, and the perspiration stood in great drops upon his brow.

"Mercy," he murmured, with quivering lips--"mercy! I will make good again, I--"

"Can you give me Rebecca again?" asked Gabriel, who now suddenly passed from the extreme of wrath to a cold tranquillity. "Can you undo and make null your evil deeds? Can you take from me the guilt you brought upon me? _No_, you can not, and therefore you must die, for crime must be expiated! You murdered my Rebecca, and therefore I shall murder you. Adam Schwarzenberg, pray your last prayer, for I am here to kill you!"

"No, you will not!" cried Schwarzenberg. "No; you will be reasonable--you will accept my offers! I promise you wealth and consideration, I--"

"Silence and pray, for you must die! Death is here, Adam Schwarzenberg, for Gabriel Nietzel is here!"

He saw it, he knew that Gabriel spoke the truth. He knew that this man, with the pale, distorted, grief-worn face, with those large eyes flaming with the fires of insanity, was to be his murderer. Death had come to summon him away--death in the form of Gabriel Nietzel!

And so, he was to die! He, the mighty, the rich, the noble Count Schwarzenberg! _He_ whose name all Germany revered, _he_ before whom all bowed in humility, who had had control over millions! _He_ was to die by the hand of a madman, to die alone, unwept! If his son were only with him, his dear, his only son, who loved him, who--"Have you prayed?" asked Gabriel Nietzel, who had been waiting in silence.

"No," said Schwarzenberg, startled out of his train of thought--"no, I have not prayed! Why do you ask that?"

"Because you must die!" replied Gabriel Nietzel, grasping him more firmly with his left hand, and with his right drawing forth a dagger from his breast. The count profited by this moment, tore himself loose, jumped back, and rushed toward the open door of the secret passage. But Nietzel sprang past him, and already stood before the door, confronting him again! As he saw the dagger glitter in the air, he remembered, with the rapidity of thought, the instant when he had stood before Rebecca, with the drawn dagger in his hand.

She had cried "Mercy! mercy!" He wanted to cry so, too, but could not! Like a flash of lightning it darted across his eyes, like a crushing blow it fell upon his brain. He uttered a piercing shriek, tumbled backward, and fell upon the ground, with rattling in his throat and with dimmed eyes!

Gabriel Nietzel bent over him and looked long into that convulsed countenance, and into those eyes which were fixed upon him with a look of entreaty! Nietzel understood that look. "No," he said roughly--"no, I do not forgive you, I have no pity upon you. Be you cursed and condemned, and go to the grave in your sins! God has been gracious to me; he has not willed it that I should be stained with your blood. He has laid his own hand upon you and smitten you. You will perhaps have long to suffer yet. Suffer!"

He put up his dagger, strode through the apartment, stepped out upon the secret passage and closed the door behind him.

"And now," he said, when he found himself outside--"now I shall go and acknowledge my sins to the Elector. He will be compassionate, and allow me to mount the scaffold. I shall then have atoned for all, and will once more be united to my Rebecca!"

Was it possible that this wretched, sobbing, deathly pale something, lying there on the floor of the cabinet, was but a few hours since the proud, the mighty, the dreaded and courted Count Adam von Schwarzenberg, the Stadtholder in the Mark? Now he was a poor dying beggar, longing for a drink of water, and with no one near to hand him the refreshing draught; who longed for a tear, and had no one to weep for him; who longed for forgiveness, and God himself would not forgive him! Hours, eternities of anguish went by, and still he lay helpless and solitary upon the floor! He plainly heard how they came and knocked, and then moved softly away, because they supposed that he had shut himself up to work. He heard them, but he could not call, for his tongue was palsied! He could not move, for his limbs were paralyzed!

Hours, eternities of anguish went by. Then his old valet came through the secret door, creeping softly in, and found him, that pitiable creature, on the floor, and screamed for help. Then the doors were broken down, and the servants came and the physicians. They lifted him up and bore him to the divan. He breathed, he lived! Perhaps help might not yet be impossible!

Everything was tried, but all in vain. He still lived and breathed, but he was paralyzed in all his limbs, and soon the inner organs, too, refused to exercise their functions. They removed the invalid to Spandow because the mutinous regiments were perpetually threatening to renew their attack upon the count's palace, and might disturb the repose of the dying man. There he lay in his castle, a living corpse for four days more, with open eyes, giving token that he heard and understood what was passing about him. Finally, at the end of four days, on the 4th of March, 1641, Count Adam von Schwarzenberg closed his eyes, and of the haughty, powerful, dreaded Stadtholder in the Mark, nothing was left but cold, stiff clay![47]

VII.--THE SEALING OF THE DOCUMENTS.

A courier, sent to Regensburg by Herr von Kracht, commandant of Berlin, immediately upon the decease of Count Adam Schwarzenberg, had prompted his son Count John Adolphus to expedite his departure from that place, and to journey by forced stages to Berlin. He repaired first to Spandow. and had his father's embalmed remains interred with great pomp in the village church. After having thus discharged this first filial duty, he proceeded to Berlin to take possession of the inheritance left him by his father.

The whole inheritance! Not the smallest part of it should be abstracted from him! In his father's lifetime he had been appointed his coadjutor in the Order of the Knights of Malta; now, since his father was dead he must be his successor, must be Grand Master of the Order of St. John. He sent orders to Sonnenberg, summoning a solemn chapter of the order to hold its sitting, and to send in the oath of service due him. In his father's lifetime he had been his associate in the office of Stadtholder; now, his father being no more, he claimed the stadtholdership in the Mark as his lawful heritage. And his friends and adherents strengthened the ambitious young count in these pretentions. As soon as John Adolphus had taken up his residence in Berlin, Commandant von Kracht placed guards before the gates of his palace, and every evening demanded a watchword from the young nobleman.

Commandant von Rochow of Spandow placed himself and his garrison wholly at the disposal of the "young Stadtholder," and Colonel von Goldacker swore that he would obey the orders of none other than Count John Adolphus, Grand Master of the Order of St. John and Stadtholder in the Mark.

Count John Adolphus allowed himself to be rocked in these olden dreams of power and ambition, believed in their realization, and was firmly determined to do everything to prove their truth. He accepted the guard, gave the watchword, and sent orders to Sonnenburg, as if he were already elected grand master; he required an oath of fealty from all those places which had been pledged to his father by the Elector George William. He also issued his mandates in Berlin, and toward magistrates and judiciary he assumed the attitude of Stadtholder in the Mark. And nobody ventured to contradict him, no court had the spirit to oppose him, for the young count stood at the head of a host of powerful and influential friends; the courts were weak and powerless, and as yet no instructions had been received from the Elector at Königsberg.

Count John Adolphus husbanded his time well. He sent messengers in all directions, corresponded with all his father's friends and adherents, summoning them to rally around him, and to come sword in hand. He held correspondence also with the father confessor Silvio at Vienna, nay, even with the Emperor himself. Restlessly active was he from morning till night, his whole being absorbed in this one effort--to ruin the Elector, and to win for himself his rank and power! His friends seconded him in striving to attain this great end. Everywhere they were active, everywhere they sought to work for him and to procure him adherents. At Spandow and Berlin the Commandants von Kracht and von Rochow declared themselves ready to place garrison and fortress entirely under his direction; Colonel von Goldacker, commandant of Brandenburg, had betaken himself to his post, and only awaited the count's word to sound the tocsin of war. In Königsberg the Court Marshal von Waldow was most energetically massing the friends of Schwarzenberg, and his brother, Sebastian von Waldow, traveled from place to place, to gain friends and partisans for Count John Adolphus, and to ask them to come to Berlin, that, in case of danger, the count might be prepared to make a bold front against his foes. His friends everywhere led a life of bustle and stir, and all proclaimed themselves ready joyfully to unsheathe their swords in behalf of the young count, and to do battle for him if the Elector should refuse to confirm him in all his father's appointments.

"He will not refuse," said John Adolphus to himself, when he had just finished reading the report of his agent, Otto von Marwitz, which had only that morning reached him, "No, the weak, impotent Elector will not dare to refuse to acknowledge me as my father's successor; for he must be well aware that I am even now more powerful in the Mark than himself, and enjoy, moreover, the favor and protection of the Emperor. He will not dare to attack me. I shall be sustained by him in my position of Stadtholder in the Mark, and then--from Stadtholder to independent Sovereign requires but one step, which I mean to take, and--"

The door was violently burst open and Sebastian von Waldow rushed in.

"Count!" he cried, gasping for breath--"Count, we are lost!"

"What is the matter? Say, what is the matter?"

"Conrad von Burgsdorf has captured the letters sent to you and myself, from Königsberg, by my brother, the marshal, in which was a full statement of a plan for open war."

"For God's sake, who says so? How do you know that?"

"One of our secret friends, who keeps his eye upon Burgsdorf, came to tell me, that I might have opportunity of warning you. In the course of a ride taken by Burgsdorf and his men in the environs of Berlin, they captured the servant whom my brother had intrusted with dispatches for you and myself.[48] The dispatches he sent forthwith by a courier to Königsberg, and the servant was hurried off to the fortress of Küstrin, that he might be unable to communicate with us."

"That is bad news indeed," said John Adolphus thoughtfully. "It also explains to me why Burgsdorf and his men have taken up their abode here, and frequently talk so captiously and insolently when excited by wine. It is palpable that he has been commissioned to watch and, if need be, arrest us. We must therefore be on our guard, too, and render him harmless; that is to say, we must imprison him, so that he can not imprison us."

"If I only knew the contents of the package," murmured Sebastian von Waldow. "In the last letter which I received from my brother he stated that he hoped soon to be able to announce with certainty whether the Elector would nominate you Stadtholder or select some one else. Now this very letter has been intercepted, and we are left in utter darkness and uncertainty."

"Gracious sir," proclaimed an advancing lackey, "an officer from Commandant von Kracht begs to be admitted, as he is charged with a verbal message from the commandant."

"Admit him," ordered the count, going hastily to meet the officer, who was just stepping into the room.

"Sir Count, I have bad news for you. Colonel von Kracht has just been arrested. He commissioned me to convey the tidings to you as he was led away."

Count John Adolphus grew slightly pale, and exchanged a rapid glance of intelligence with Sebastian von Waldow. "Who arrested Colonel von Kracht?" he asked.

"Colonel Conrad von Burgsdorf, most gracious sir. He showed Herr von Kracht his orders, signed by the Elector himself, and, as he came with a strong posse, the colonel could not resist, but was obliged to submit."

"It is well; I thank you," said John Adolphus quietly, and the officer took his leave. "Well, Sebastian," he said, turning to his confidant, "you were right, the captured papers must have been of dangerous import, for we already see the results. Our enemies are active, and I like that, for thereby the _dénouement_ will be hastened and our victory brought nearer. For conquer we will!"

"Conquer or die!" sighed Sebastian von Waldow.

Again was the door thrown open violently, and the count's high steward hurried in, trembling and pale as a sheet. "Your grace, Colonel von Burgsdorf, Colonel von Burgsdorf," stammered he.

"What of him?" inquired the count hastily. "Speak, answer me, Wallenrodt, what of Colonel von Burgsdorf?"

"Nothing further than that he ordered your high steward to conduct him hither and announce him to you," said a rough, mocking voice behind the count.

It was Conrad von Burgsdorf who thus spoke. He had just entered the apartment, and strode forward without apology or more formal salutation.

"Count John Adolphus von Schwarzenberg," continued Burgsdorf, approaching close to the count, "I have come to do what should have been done long before, to seal the papers of the late Stadtholder in the Mark, and to take them with me."

"Very fine," returned the count contemptuously. "Will you have the goodness to tell me whether my revered father imparted any such instructions to you before his death, and if so, show me the written order, for otherwise I would not be inclined to give you credence."

"Have received no orders from the deceased count," replied Burgsdorf, shrugging his shoulders. "Would have received no orders from him, for there is only one under whom I serve, and that one is my master, the Elector Frederick William. He ordered me to affix his signet to all the papers left by Count Adam Schwarzenberg, and I have therefore come to obey these orders."

"Where is the written order?"

"Have no written order, but obtained a verbal one just a half hour ago."

"Ah, it pleases you to jest," cried Count Adolphus scornfully. "You have come from Königsberg here in a half hour? If you will condescend to receive no commands save from the Elector, then you must have spoken with him, and, as far as I know, the Elector is at Königsberg."

"Your knowledge goes not far, my pretty sir," said Burgsdorf contemptuously. "You are in everything a very unadvised and ignorant young gentleman. The Elector is indeed at Königsberg, but, nevertheless, he has made known his will to me through the newly appointed Stadtholder in the Mark, who arrived here, _incognito_, early this morning."

"Stadtholder in the Mark!" cried Count John Adolphus defiantly. "I know no one who can lay claim to that title but myself alone!"

"But I know some one who has not merely the title but the office itself, and that person is the Margrave Ernest von Jägerndorf. Herr von Metzdorf, come in!"

In answer to Burgsdorf's loud call a young officer advanced through the door leading from the adjacent room, which had been left ajar, and stood on the threshold awaiting further orders.

"Hand Count Adolphus von Schwarzenberg the Stadtholder's printed manifesto," said Burgsdorf. Lieutenant von Metzdorf drew near the count, extending toward him a huge sheet of paper. "Read, my dear little count!" cried Burgsdorf. "Only read! Yes, yes, it contains very interesting intelligence. Margrave Ernest informs the citizens of Berlin and Cologne that he has been nominated by our gracious Elector Stadtholder in the Mark, and has entered upon the duties of his new office. He further informs the good folks of Berlin, that his Electoral Grace has been pleased to appoint Conrad von Burgsdorf superintendent of all the fortresses within the Electorate and Mark of Brandenburg. Colonel Conrad von Burgsdorf am I, and in my province as superintendent of all the fortresses I shall have all those arrested who refuse to swear allegiance to their Sovereign and Elector. Colonel von Kracht has experienced this, and his confederates shall soon enough acquire like knowledge. Count von Schwarzenberg, will you have the goodness to let me proceed to seal the papers, or must I use force by virtue of my right and authority?"

"You are the stronger," replied the count, shrugging his shoulders, "or, rather, brute force is on your side, and against this 'twere irrational to contend. Do what I can not hinder. Seal up my father's papers. I should think, however, that my own papers would be exempt from this procedure, and I hope the contents of my own desk will be respected." As he spoke he cast a furtive glance upon his steward von Wallenrodt, who, nodding almost imperceptibly, slowly retreated to the door.

"I shall seal indiscriminately all the papers and desks found in the palace," exclaimed Colonel von Burgsdorf. "This whole palace, with all it contains, belonged to Count Adam Schwarzenberg, and my orders are to seal and remove all papers left by that gentleman. You see that I can not and will not make distinctions as to what is yours and what your deceased father's."

"I believe, indeed, that the art of reading is for you difficult, nay almost impossible, Colonel von Burgsdorf!"

"You believe so? You are mistaken, my young sir. I can even read what is written upon men's faces, and read upon your brow that you are not merely puffed up with self-importance, but that you are likewise forging wicked and dangerous plans, and have been led away by your ambition to desire things unsuitable for you. Come now, count, and accompany me into your father's cabinet."

"No!" cried the count--"no, I will do no such thing! It shall not be said that I voluntarily submitted to treason and brutal violence!"

"Well, my little count," cried Burgsdorf, laughing, "if you will not act as guide of your own accord, you must be forced to do so _nolens volens_. You need not show us the way, for we will merely go from chamber to chamber and affix our seal to all the papers we can find. But the law requires your presence, and your presence we shall have. Lieutenant von Metzdorf and Lieutenant von Frohberg, each of you give an arm to Count von Schwarzenberg. Sustain and support him well, for the young gentleman feels a little unwell and can not go alone."

The two officers approached the count, who looked at them with threatening mien. "Do not dare to touch me!" he cried angrily. "I will not follow you! I will not go!"

"You will not go, will you not? Not even when my officers offer you their arms?"

"I will not go, but I shall complain to the Emperor of the violence done me, and he will procure me satisfaction."

"Well, we shall bide our time," said Burgsdorf placidly. "For the present it only concerns us to obtain your honored companionship. Since, however, you declare that you can not go afoot, I shall carry you!"

And before the young count could prevent it, Burgsdorf had seized him in his gigantic arms and lifted him up.

"Forward now, gentlemen," he said, stepping briskly a few paces in advance, bearing the count as lightly and easily in his arms as if he had been an infant.

"Let me descend from the wine cask, Colonel von Burgsdorf," said Count Adolphus, smilingly and composedly. "I have attained my end. I only wanted to defer the sealing for a few minutes. Having succeeded in effecting this, I shall no longer oppose any obstacle to your progress."

"So much the better," cried Burgsdorf, setting him on the ground. "For, even if you were as light as a feather, I would rather have free use of my arms and hands; and, besides, do not like such close contact with any birds of your plumage. Now, Sir Imperial Counselor, let us to work and commence the process of sealing."

"Well and good," said Count John Adolphus, "only permit me to ask one question. To what end this sealing, and when will the signet be removed? I am my father's sole heir; already I have had the will opened and read in the presence of competent witnesses, and in accordance with my father's expressed desire entered into possession of the whole inheritance. The affixing of the seal appears to me, therefore, to be superfluous. If done at all, it should have been attended to before the opening of the will."

"It has been delayed, alas!" replied Conrad von Burgsdorf, "and it has resulted from the fact that since the Stadtholder's death there has been nobody to issue orders or defend the right. But now, as we have once more a Stadtholder in the Mark, all will be different, and those who put themselves in opposition may be on their guard, for we seal not merely papers, but men. As regards your question, count, the sealing affects your inheritance only in so far as you have presumed to include among your estates several districts and domains pertaining to the Elector, and have been in indecent haste to take possession of them."

"These domains were given in pledge to my father, and never redeemed."

"That remains to be decided, and, for the purpose of setting this as well as many other matters, the Elector has ordained that a judicial court shall sit. He himself named the gentlemen who were to constitute this board of investigation, which will enter upon its duties early to-morrow morning, and begin by removing the seal from the papers which I am to make myself master of to-day. The chairman of this committee is the president of the privy council, von Götze."

"I know of no President von Götze."

"Yes, yes, your father deprived Herr von Götze of his office because he would not dance to the Stadtholder's piping, and was not his devoted servant to say yes to everything. But for that very reason our young Elector has installed him again in his office, and given orders, moreover, that he be the president of the committee of investigation. And now, as I have answered all your questions with praiseworthy patience and to my own satisfaction, let us at last proceed to sealing, and make a beginning in this very room. Shut the doors, Lieutenant von Metzdorf, and allow no one to go out who was here at our entrance."

"Colonel," replied the lieutenant, "the high steward von Wallenrodt left the room a while ago, but, as you had given no orders to that effect, I could not detain him. He went out just when you took the count up in your arms."

"Humph! That is the reason why the count wanted to divert my attention for some minutes, that his steward might have time to execute his secret commission!" cried the colonel stamping his foot passionately. "We ought to have reflected that we had sly foxes to deal with, and guarded every outlet beforehand. Lieutenant von Metzdorf, place a man at every door and let no one out. Lieutenant von Frohberg, take with you four soldiers, and search the whole palace; if you find von Wallenrodt, arrest and search him."

"Colonel, that is going too far!" cried Count John Adolphus, pale with rage and excitement. "You have no right to arrest and search my servant. I interpose my protest, and will bring you to account before his Majesty the Emperor."

"I shall take care of that," replied the colonel composedly. "If I have done wrong, let the committee of investigation call me to account. The Emperor in Vienna has nothing to do with me, and has no right to meddle in the administration of justice among us."

"We shall see about that!" cried the count, with a threatening gesture.

"Yes, we shall see! But first we must see where the papers are, which we are to seal and carry off. Open that table drawer, count, and let us see what it contains."

Count Adolphus had to submit to having every desk and table searched, and wherever papers were found, the great seal of the Electoral privy council was affixed, and they were then removed. He had also to submit to having the whole palace ransacked from garret to cellar in search of the steward von Wallenrodt. The sealing he could not prevent, but he had the satisfaction of seeing the soldiers fail in discovering the hiding place of his steward after making the strictest possible search, as well as of witnessing Colonel Burgsdorf's disappointment on opening Count Adolphus's own writing desk to find it perfectly empty.

"I said so," growled Burgsdorf. "We forgot that we were dealing with sly foxes, and barred the doors too late. Count John Adolphus von Schwarzenberg, the sealing is over. Now comes the performance of my second duty. I have to announce to you on the part of Margrave Ernest, Stadtholder in the Mark, that you are under arrest in your own house until further notice, and are on no account whatever to be allowed to leave the palace. Here is the warrant, that you may not say I am acting without orders."

He drew forth a paper, unfolded it, and handed it to the count, who rapidly glanced over it.

"I see," said he, with proud composure, "you are acting under authority, and are merely your master's faithful beadle. May I keep this warrant?"

"Why so?"

"To hand it to the Emperor, and show him with what disrespect they have dared to act against his counselor and chamberlain."

"Keep the bill of indictment," said Burgsdorf quietly. "I shall be much surprised if you shortly find yourself in a condition to present it to the Emperor in person. Certainly not just now, for you are under arrest, and can not have control of your own movements. You will therefore have the gratification of having a guard at your door, although you are not the Stadtholder. Farewell, Count John Adolphus!"

Bowing to the young count, who with a scornful laugh turned his back upon him, he left the apartment, followed by his officers.

"Metzdorf," he said outside to the young officer in the antechamber, "to you I intrust the guarding of the palace. I know you are incorruptible, and will not allow the young gentleman to escape. Go round the palace on the outside, and before each door station two soldiers, who are to leave their posts neither by day or night. Relieve them every four hours. The Stadtholder, alas! did not order us to guard the inner doors of the house, so we must only be watchful and circumspect outside. I commit the guarding to you, and if he escapes, the responsibility rests upon yourself."

"Unless he is a magician who can vanish through the air, he shall not escape me, colonel," said the young officer, smiling. "I will stake my head upon his not going by ordinary means through the doors."

"Very well, lieutenant; but hark! Place two more sentinels at the garden railing opposite the palace. They are to watch the windows night and day, sounding an alarm as soon as they observe anything suspicious. Come now. Reconnoiter the outer doors and post the sentinels. I am going to report to the Stadtholder."

Colonel Burgsdorf left the count's palace, and repaired to the Electoral castle, where the Margrave Ernest von Jägerndorf had taken up his residence.

Count John Adolphus had stood listening at the door, and heard every word spoken by Burgsdorf to his lieutenant, and then listened to his heavy, retreating footstep. Now he heard the slamming of the front door, and rushing to the window, saw Burgsdorf mount his horse and ride off, followed by his companions and a wagon loaded with the papers which had been seized.

"Waldow!" cried the count, springing back from the window, "he has gone, and we have, God be thanked! no guard inside the house. We are unobserved."

"What good will that do us, Sir Count," sighed Waldow. "We can not leave the house, and your papers have been seized."

"Not my papers, Waldow! No, God be praised! not my papers!" exulted the count. "Did you not see that my writing desk was empty?"

"And what does that signify?"

"It signifies that my trusty steward von Wallenrodt understood my hint, and, while I detained Burgsdorf, abstracted and concealed my papers."

"Think you so?" asked Waldow, shrugging his shoulders. "It seems to me more likely that the steward has imitated the rats, who always forsake a sinking ship, and has gone off. The palace has been ransacked and von Wallenrodt was nowhere to be found. He has probably gone to the new Stadtholder, thinking to benefit himself by betraying you."

"You slander my faithful servant," said the count. "I know him better, and am confident that he will not betray me. Come, Waldow, accompany me to my father's cabinet.

"I will now show you that you have judged my steward falsely," he continued, when they had reached the cabinet.

"This apartment conceals a mystery, known only to my father, myself, and Wallenrodt. Now, you shall become acquainted with it, and learn at the same time that there is still good faith in the world."

He crossed the spacious apartment to the large mirror, which, reaching down to the floor, filled up the whole space between the windows. He pressed an ornament of the frame, and the mirror flew back, having become a door, which opened and revealed a niche concealed in the wall. From this niche stepped forth the steward, with a great roll of papers in his hand.

"Most gracious sir," he said quietly, handing the roll to the count, "here are the papers of your writing desk."

"Thank you, my faithful Wallenrodt!" cried Adolphus Schwarzenberg, offering him his hand. "I knew that I could count upon you, and, when the writing desk was found empty, knew that you had understood my glance. But now, before we advise as to what is further to be done, let me examine these papers, for I do not exactly know whether they contain all that I would wish to conceal from Burgsdorf and my other enemies. Step into that window recess, friends, and let me look over these papers."

The two gentlemen retired into the deep window niche, and conversed together in whispers, while Count Adolphus rummaged over the papers with quick and nervous fingers. Ever quicker, ever more nervous became the movements of his hand, ever darker grew his brow, ever more anxious his countenance. As he laid aside the last sheet a sudden pallor overspread his face, and for a moment he leaned back in the fauteuil, quite faint and exhausted.

"Dearest sir!" cried the steward, hurrying toward him, "are not the papers all in order?"

"It is just as I feared," said the count, sighing. "My whole correspondence with my father, during my last sojourn at Regensburg, besides copies of my letters to the Emperor and Marwitz, were in the drawer of my father's writing table, and have been carried off with the rest."

"And did these letters compromise you, count?" asked Herr von Waldow, drawing nearer to him.

"With these letters in his hand, President von Götze, the chairman of the committee of investigation, can arraign me as guilty of high treason and condemn me to death."

A long pause ensued. With gloomy countenances all three cast their eyes upon the ground. Then the steward lifted up his head, with an expression of firm resolve.

"You must flee, gracious sir," he cried earnestly.

"Flee?" repeated the count, shrugging his shoulders. "Ah, you have not heard of what further happened after you withdrew to your place of concealment!"

"The whole palace is surrounded by soldiers," completed Herr von Waldow. "At each door stand two sentinels, and even at the park gate two guards are stationed."

"You see plainly, Wallenrodt, that flight is impossible," said the count.

The steward smiled. "Through doors and windows you can not escape, in truth. There is a third way, however."

"What sort of way, Wallenrodt?"

"The secret passage, count."

"I know of no secret passage."

"But I do, count. Your late revered father had this secret passage built at the time the cities revolted and the Swedes were threatening Berlin. He had fifty workmen brought from Vienna, who were kept concealed in the palace, and worked every night upon this subterranean passage, and as soon as it was completed he had the men sent back to Austria. It is not to be supposed that you should know anything of this, count, for it happened at least fifteen years ago, when you were but a lad. While the work lasted the count resided at Spandow, taking all his household with him, that no one might know anything about the secret passage. Only the old castellan and I remained behind, to overlook the work. We were the only two besides the Stadtholder who knew the secret. You must flee through the subterranean passage, gracious sir."

"Whither does the secret passage lead?" asked the count.

"Winding along underground, it has its outlet in the little pavilion in the center of the park. The key to the outer door hangs within the passage, as does also the key to the garden gate. All is in good order, for, fearing that the count's affairs might take a bad turn, I examined the passage through its whole extent until I arrived at the pavilion. Your grace can escape in that way unperceived."

"And you, my faithful friends, will accompany me," said the count, extending his hands to the two gentlemen. "You were right just now, Waldow, when you said we should conquer or die. It seems now as if we must be ruined. Our enemies have gone to work with more zeal and determination than ourselves. While we pondered, they acted; while we tarried, they strode energetically forward. The young Elector has made good use of his time, and like a spider has caught us in the net with which he had lightly and secretly encircled us. All my foes, all the sworn adversaries of my father, has he called out to battle against us. Envy, hatred, malice, are the regiments which the young lord musters into the field, and by means of these he has for the moment conquered us. But only for the moment. A day of reckoning will come to the haughty young sir. He thinks himself free and independent, but he shall learn that there is one higher than he to whom he must bow, to whom he owes obedience. Yes, the Emperor Ferdinand will avenge me upon this arrogant young man. He will cause his proud neck to bend, and force his vassal to give me satisfaction, and to reinstate me in all my offices and dignities, which he would unjustly withhold from me. I shall go to the Emperor at Vienna, and--Ha, what a thought!" he exclaimed, interrupting himself. Rushing across to his writing table, whose empty drawers were stretched wide open, he tore one out and thrust his arm into the vacant space.

"The secret compartment," he cried triumphantly. "Old Burgsdorf's keen scent failed him this time. Here it is, safe and inviolate. Here!"

When he drew forth his hand it contained a small box, which he opened by touching a spring. The lid flew open; the box contained nothing but a dainty, perfumed note. Still the count esteemed it a precious possession. He took the paper and waved it exultingly above his head.

"This is my salvation!" he cried. "With this paper in my hand I am armed against all the villainy and malice of the Elector. Oh, my dear, noble father, I must thank you for this security, thank you that I shall come forth victor from this contest with my enemy. It was you who pointed out to me the significance of this paper, who gave me the wise counsel to preserve it for future use. Thank you, oh, my father! At this hour this paper is the most precious inheritance which you have left me. I shall use it in accordance with your views, and as actuated by your spirit.

"Now, my friends," he continued, "now am I ready for flight. Let us consider what is to be done."

"Gracious sir, I have already considered," replied Wallenrodt warmly, "and I hope you will approve my plan. You can not make use of the subterranean passage by day, for, as I said before, it has its outlet in the center of the park, and if you pass through the lower garden gate in safety, you have still to go through the suburbs of Cologne. Every one would recognize you, and who knows whether Colonel von Burgsdorf may not have placed sentinels there too? You must, therefore, make your escape by night. I, on the contrary, dressed as a simple burgher, will take advantage of the subterranean passage now, and, watching my opportunity, when the street is quiet will leave the park and go away."

"Where are you going, Wallenrodt?"

"To Spandow, gracious sir, to Colonel von Rochow. I want to inform him of the course events have taken--to tell him that you are forced to leave Berlin. When nightfall comes your grace will be pleased to go through the subterranean passage in company with Herr von Waldow, emerge into the park, and then proceed up the street. Without especial haste, for any appearance of haste might excite remark, you will go to the Willow-bank Gate. Outside I will await you with two saddled horses. These you will mount, and ride at full gallop to Spandow, where Herr von Rochow will be ready to receive your grace. From that place the count can depart when so disposed."

"Your plan is good and feasible," said the count. "I accept it. Hasten, therefore, good friend, hasten to Colonel von Rochow with tidings of what has befallen us here. Tell him that the time for hesitancy and delay has passed, that the hour of action has come. He has hitherto manfully refused to give in his oath to the Elector, and therefore the fortress of Spandow belongs to the Emperor, the sworn lord of its commandant, rather than to the Elector of Brandenburg. The walls of the Imperial fort will afford us protection and security, and from that point we can begin our contest with the enemy, who has so treacherously attacked us. Be off, my Wallenrodt, be off, and may we meet to-night in freedom and joy!"

"Only forget not to arm yourself, gracious sir, and take care that no one watches and pursues you."

"I shall precede the count with two loaded pistols," cried Herr von Waldow. "I will shoot down whoever shall dare to oppose him, and open a free path for him to the Willow-bank Gate, where you will be waiting for us, Wallenrodt."

"We will both go armed and defend ourselves bravely," said Count Adolphus Schwarzenberg. "We would rather die than fall into the hands of our enemies. Go now, Wallenrodt, for you have verily a long way before you. The road to Spandow is long."

"In three hours I shall be there, honored sir. We shall then have ample time to make our preparations for defense, and meet you here at twilight with horses. Come now, gentlemen, that I may show you the approach to the subterranean passage. It is in the little corridor next your late father's cabinet."

VIII.--THE FLIGHT.

How dreary and desolate was the day which Count Adolphus now passed in the palace--how the hours lengthened into days, and the minutes into hours! How glad were they when twilight at last drew near, what sighs of relief they breathed when night at last set in!

A dark, silent night. The sky was obscured by clouds, not a star was to be seen. A night well fitted for enveloping fugitives in her friendly mantle, and concealing them beneath her gloomy shades. Away now, away! Night is here! Freedom beckons! The spacious palace was to-day nothing but a close, oppressive prison. Nothing did Count Adolphus hear but the walking to and fro of the sentinels and the corporal's call to relieve guard. Nothing did he see, when he went to the window, but soldiers slowly pacing their round before the park railing.

Away from this prison, whose splendor and luxury seemed like sheer mockery, away from this house teeming with bitter memories of past grandeur and glory!

Night was here, the night of deliverance. Away, away!

They wrapped their cloaks about them, drew their hats low over their foreheads, and entered the subterranean passage. Waldow lead the way, a burning taper in one hand, a pistol in the other. Count Adolphus Schwarzenberg followed him, a pistol in either hand, firmly determined to shoot down whoever might dare to oppose his progress.

The passage was traversed, and safely the two emerged into the open air in the park pavilion. Now forward quickly, down the dark alley to the lower garden gate. The key was in his pocket, there was nothing to obstruct their flight.

One moment they paused within the half-opened gateway and listened. Nothing moved in the street without. All life seemed already extinct, all the inhabitants of the wretched houses had retired to rest. Not a light glimmered through the windows. All was hushed and still. They pushed open the gate and stepped out upon the street. They looked up and down; nowhere did they see a sign of movement, nowhere a human form, nor anywhere hear a rustling sound. Forward now, forward up the street, around the corner of the park, across the cathedral square.

The night was quite dark, and the two fugitives looked ever ahead, not once behind them. They did not see that another shadow followed their black shadows, nor that a second shadow glided across the cathedral square to the Electoral castle.

To that castle, too, were Count Schwarzenberg's eyes directed. There it loomed up, veiled in mystery and gloom, its dim outlines barely distinguishable from the mass of overhanging clouds in the background. In the lower story, where was situated the guardroom, burned a bright light, shining like a clear, yellow star, and irradiating the darkness of the night.

Count Adolphus saw it, and also saw the light suddenly eclipsed by a shadow; then flame forth again. He saw the shadow, but did not suspect that it bore any relationship to his person or movements. He only continued to look toward the castle, and to think of the past, taking farewell of his memories, farewell of the dreams of his youth! He thought of the insult put upon him that dreadful night when he had been mocked and deceived by her whom he loved, and he vowed vengeance for the tortures endured by him that night!

"Forward, Waldow, forward!" He took his friend's arm, and they pressed on. The shadow behind them advanced when they advanced and stopped when they stood still. Through the pleasure garden the pair proceeded with hurried steps, through the gate at the castle moat they entered upon the Willow-bank suburb, then down the deserted little streets of wretched huts. They reached the great Willow-bank meadow without the walls, passing through a gate not far from the bridge over the Spree.

"Wallenrodt, are you here?" whispered Schwarzenberg.

"Yes, count, I am here."

The tramp of horse's hoofs, the voices of men speaking in whispers.

"Colonel von Rochow expects your grace. The whole fortress is at your service. He will defend you to the last man, and would rather blow the whole fortress into the air than surrender you to the enemy."

"Yes, better be blown up by gunpowder, than fall into an enemy's hands!" cries the count, vaulting with glad heart into the saddle.

"Are you ready, my friends?"

"Yes, we are ready."

The count gave the word of command, "Forward!" and grasped tighter his horse's reins.

"Halt! halt!" called a loud voice, and the shadow which had crept behind them now changed into the form of a tall and powerful man, who sprang through the gate and seized the count's horse by the bridle.

"Back!" shouted Adolphus Schwarzenberg furiously.

"Halt! halt!" cried the other. "You shall not escape. In the name of Colonel von Burgsdorf I arrest you, Count John Adolphus von Schwarzenberg."

"Who are you, poor man, who are you who dares to oppose me?"

"I am the police master Brandt. I arrest you in the name of the Stadtholder in the Mark!"

"Wretched traitor! You swore fidelity to my father, and have now become the tool of his enemies. Hands off! It will cost you your life! Back!"

"No, I will not leave you, I arrest you. You must stay here!"

"Let us make an end of this, count," shouted von Waldow "The night is so pitch-dark that we can not distinguish friend from foe, else I would have shot him long ago."

"For the last time, hands off my horse, or I shall shoot you."

"For the last time. Yield peaceably, or I shall shoot you. Living or dead I must keep you, I have--"

A flash, the report of a pistol, a death groan interrupted the police master's words. The three horsemen bounded forward into the night. Forward at breakneck speed, but for the sand, that dreadful sand. This is the Rehberg, they know it by the sand in which the horses sink, from which they extricate themselves only to sink again. Yet what matters it if they do make rather slow progress? They will surely reach Spandow before daybreak, and Colonel von Burgsdorf will be cheated out of his precious prisoners.

What is that? What strange sound does the night wind bear to the three riders? Simultaneously all three turn in their saddles and listen.

They hear it quite plainly. It is the noise made by trotting horses. It comes on--it comes nearer.

"Wallenrodt, Waldow! We are pursued!"

"Yes, count, but we have the Rehberg almost behind us, and they must go through it. We have a good start. They will not overtake us."

"Forward, my friends, forward!"

They put spurs to their horses, they press their knees into their flanks, and the animals struggle faster through the sand. In spite of every hindrance they have now reached firmer ground and bound bravely forward. But the noise behind them has not ceased, not even become more remote. They must have good steeds, those pursuers, for they seem to come nearer and nearer.

"Friends, better die than fall into the hands of the enemy!" shouts the count. "I tell you the very moment Burgsdorf touches me I shall shoot myself. Greet my friends for me. Bid them farewell forever!"

"You will not shoot yourself, count, for the enemy will not overtake us. Forward! Put spur to your horses. Heigh! Huzza! Forward!"

They rush through the darkness!

Clouds dark and threatening course swiftly through the sky, horsemen dark and threatening course swiftly over the earth.

"Waldow! they come nearer! But we have still the start of them!"

"Only see, count! That dark mass there against the sky. That is our goal. Just one quarter of an hour and we shall be safe in Spandow."

"One quarter of an hour! An eternity! Heigh! Huzza! On! on!"

"Halt!" is heard behind them. "Halt! in the name of the Elector, in the name of the law! Halt! halt!"

"That is Burgsdorf's voice!" cries Count Schwarzenberg, and spurs his horse with such violence that it rears and then shoots forward, swift as an arrow from a bow. But the pursuers, too, dash forward, as if borne upon the wings of the wind, and the distance between them constantly grows less. Already they hear the horses pant; ever clearer, ever more distinct become the passionate outcries of Colonel Burgsdorf.

He swears, he threatens, he rages! He orders the fugitives to halt, and swears to shoot them if they do not.

What care they for threats or orders? Forward! forward! Behind them sounds a shot--a second, then a third! The balls whistle past their ears, and they laugh aloud, to prove to the enemy that they are still alive.

Before them flash lights, like golden stars, like bonfires of rejoicing.

"Count, those are the lights of Spandow! Just see those torches there! The commandant is waiting for you at the entrance to the fort with his torchbearers."

"On! on!" shout the three, and they race onward at lightning speed. And at lightning speed the pursuers follow. Nearer they come, ever nearer.

"I have them! I have caught them!" exults Burgsdorf, springing forward and stretching out his hands toward the fugitives, for it seems to him as if he can indeed lay his hand upon them. "Halt! halt! in the name of the Elector!"

"Forward! forward! What care we for the Elector? What care we for Burgsdorf? Forward!"

The lights increase in size and brilliancy. Now they distinguish torches and the figures of men.

"Are you there, count?" calls down Colonel von Rochow from the wall.

"It is I, colonel!"

The gate is open, they gallop in!

Over the wooden bridge gallop the pursuers after them. Now they are at the gate. But the gate slams to with thundering sound. The pursuers are left without.

"Undo the bolts, Colonel von Rochow! I command you, undo the bolts!"

"Who is it that dares to command me?" calls down Colonel von Rochow from the fortification walls.

"I command you! I, the commandant in chief of all the fortresses in the Mark!"

"I know no commandant in chief, and trouble myself about no such person. I am commandant of Spandow, and have sworn to serve the Emperor, and him alone."

"Colonel von Rochow, in the name of the Elector and in the name of the Stadtholder in the Mark, I command you for the last time to open the gate!"

"The Elector is not my master to command me, and as to the Stadtholder in the Mark, here he is at my side. Only Count Adolphus Schwarzenberg do I recognize as such, and he forbids my opening the gate. Go back quietly to Berlin, colonel, for the night is cold, and your ride will warm you."

"And I must pocket this insult," muttered old Burgsdorf, gnashing his teeth. "I can do nothing but turn around and go back with shame!" Almost tearfully he gave his men the order to face about and return to Berlin.

In the castle within, Count John Adolphus cordially offered his hand to Commandant von Rochow.

"Colonel, you have saved my life by furnishing me a refuge. I would have shot myself if Burgsdorf had overtaken me. I shall commend you to the Emperor's Majesty for this friendly service."

IX.--THE LETTER.

"Well, here you are at last," exclaimed Elector Frederick William, holding out his hand to Baron Leuchtmar von Kalkhun. "You have at last returned from your difficult journey."

"Yes, gracious sir, you may well call it a difficult journey. Four long months of endless debate, wrangling, and dispute with those arrogant Swedish lords, who were ever ready to take but never to give. Such was my experience day by day for four long months."

"Yes, you are right," said the Elector thoughtfully. "Four months have indeed elapsed since you set out upon your journey and I undertook the duties of ruler. My God! it seems to me as if many years had rolled by since then, and as if I had become an old, old man! I do not believe I have laughed once during these four months, or enjoyed one quarter of an hour of pleasure or relaxation. Discord and discussion everywhere with Emperor and empire, with the States, with Poland, Juliers and Cleves. They are all my foes, and not one single hand is held out to me in friendship. I have felt at times right lonely, Leuchtmar, and sorely sighed for you. It could not be, though, and I have learned already to submit to necessity. Necessity alone is the despotic mistress of all princes, and we nothing but her humble vassals. It is a humiliating thought, but nevertheless true. I must learn to endure mortifications, and to consider them but the price which I pay for my future."

"It grieves me to perceive that your highness is somewhat downcast and discouraged," sighed Leuchtmar, looking sadly at the Elector's pale, sober countenance, upon which the last four months had indeed left the imprint of years.

"Downcast? Yes," cried Frederick William; "for my affairs progress but slowly, and to gain anything I am compelled on all sides to make unpleasant concessions and to submit to irksome restraints. But discouraged--no, Leuchtmar, I am not discouraged, and by God's help never shall be! I know my purpose, which I shall pursue with immovable steadfastness, and, although the results of these first four months of government are barely discernible, I comfort myself that in as many years I shall have accomplished much. It is strange, Leuchtmar, that you have returned to-day, the very day which brings home my Polish ambassador with the tidings that the King of Poland is ready solemnly to invest me with the dukedom of Prussia, thanks to our money and our fair speeches. This very day I also expect decisive news from Colonel von Burgsdorf at Berlin. On the self-same day I sent you forth. You were like doves sent from a storm-tossed ark to seek for land. Almost at the same time you return to the ark, but I fear that none of you brings with him an olive branch."

"Yet, most noble sir, I do bring you a small olive leaf," replied Leuchtmar, with a gentle smile. "I come to announce to your grace that I have at last succeeded, after a four months' contest, in wringing from the Swedish lords a few concessions, and concluding an armistice, which is to be binding for two years."

"A two years' cessation of hostilities is equivalent to ten years of refreshment, of reinvigoration!" cried the Elector with radiant looks. "Tell me, Leuchtmar, what concessions did these hard-headed Swedes make at the last moment?"

"Your highness, they have pledged themselves not to allow their soldiery to enter the Mark, unless unavoidably compelled to march through on their way elsewhere, and that then they shall be quartered and fed only under the direction of an Electoral commissary; and that, moreover, separate agreements shall be entered into with regard to the maintenance of the Swedish garrisons of forts in Pomerania and the Mark." [49]

"Yes," murmured the Elector, with dejected mien, "so low are we reduced that if they even acknowledge our natural rights, it strikes us in the light of a concession, a grant, and we must esteem ourselves happy in having obtained it! Ah! Leuchtmar, when will the time come when I can take my revenge for these humiliations, the time when they will bow to _me_, and when it will be for _me_ to concede and grant favors? Hush, ambitious heart, be soft and still! Go on, tell me what further settlements you concluded with the Swedes."

"Gracious sir, I have no other concessions to mention, except that something has been done for the protection of our mutual traffic by sea and land. But that is as much to the advantage of the Swedes as of ourselves. The demands of the Swedes are truly far greater than their concessions!"

"What do they demand?"

"They demand in advance that they be left in undisturbed possession of the fortresses they are now masters of."

"I have not the power to take them by force of arms!" cried the Elector, shrugging his shoulders. "Let them keep what I can not force from them! What else?"

"They demand, besides, that the Werben fortress be delivered up to them."

"I will not deliver it up to them!" cried the Elector; "but I will have it destroyed, that it be not seized by the Imperialists. What else?"

"The Swedes further desire that the Küstrin Pass be closed to imperial troops."

"To that I willingly consent, for it is in accordance with my own interests," said Frederick William, smiling. "By Küstrin is the road to Stettin, and it is important for us, too, that this way be closed to the Imperialists. Methinks a time will come when it shall be closed to the Swedes as well, and once closed, I shall not open it again. What else?"

"The Swedes crave the privilege of having a resident at Küstrin, who shall attend to carrying out this article."

"That I shall never consent to!" cried the Elector passionately. "No, that can not be, for such a permission would involve degradation, and the concessions which I am willing to make for the welfare of my torn and bleeding land need not go to the extent of degradation. I must have an armistice, that my subjects may recover from the effects of these bloody, trying times, and gather strength for renewed existence. I must have an armistice, in order to gain time for the re-establishment of law and order. But there need be no armistice tending to dishonor me, and place me under Swedish surveillance in the midst of my own land. No, no Swedish spy, no resident at Küstrin--that is the condition of my agreeing to the armistice. All else I acquiesce in."

"And I hope to prevail upon the Swedish lords to recede from this claim yet," said Leuchtmar. "Rest is very essential to them also just at this time, for they have enough to do to contend with the Imperialists, and the Danes are threatening them with war. They will not desire to be embroiled with Brandenburg at the same time. I will guarantee the conclusion of the armistice, and, if it meets your highness's approbation, will travel again to Sweden to effect this alteration and then bring the articles to your highness for your signature."

"So be it, dear Leuchtmar. Return to Stockholm. Strike the iron while it is hot. Much I hope from this armistice. It will make the lords of Warsaw, Regensburg, and Vienna more pliant and yielding, for it will show them that the Elector of Brandenburg is no longer drifting helplessly about in a leaky boat, but that he has succeeded at least in stopping one hole and keeping himself above water! And now, friend Leuchtmar, how fared you in your secret mission? Did you hand my letter to the young Queen?"

"Yes, your highness; I even had the opportunity of delivering it to her in a private audience without witnesses."

"And did she accept it in a kind and friendly manner?"

"Gracious sir," replied Leuchtmar, smiling, "a queen of fourteen years of age is very sensitive with regard to her dignity, and takes it very ill if she is not treated with due reverence and extreme devotion."

"Was my missive wanting in these respects?" asked Frederick William.

"I beg your highness's pardon, but the young Queen seemed to be rather of this opinion. She was visibly delighted when I handed her your letter, and especially delighted that she received it secretly, without witnesses, and not in the presence of Chancellor Oxenstiern, whose guardianship seems to be very irksome and unpleasant to her. The young Queen blushed, sir, when she took your letter, and I must confess that at this moment she looked pretty and graceful enough to be the wife of my gracious master. But her countenance soon became clouded, as she read your communication, whose contents seemed to afford her little satisfaction."

"But she answered my letter, did she not, and you bring me her reply?"

"Oh, yes, most gracious sir, she answered it, and I have with me Queen Christina's reply. But I must beforehand make your grace an apology for this answer."

"Well, let me see it, Leuchtmar. Give me the answer."

Leuchtmar drew a folded paper from his pocket, and handed it to the Elector, who unfolded it. A number of torn bits of paper fell to the floor.

"What is that, Leuchtmar?" asked the Elector in amazement.

"Your highness," replied Leuchtmar, "that is Queen Christina's answer."

The Elector picked up a few of the larger scraps of paper, and examined them attentively. "It seems to me, Leuchtmar," he said, "that I recognize specimens of my own penmanship. Yes, yes, it is my writing!"

"Yes, indeed, your highness, it is your own writing. It is your letter to Queen Christina of Sweden."

"She sends it back to me torn?"

"She tore it with her own exalted hands, trampled it under her royal feet, and literally wept for rage."

"My heavens! what have I done to enrage her little Majesty so?"

"In the first place, noble sir, you wrote to the Queen in German instead of Latin, and she found that very wanting in respect, and thought you might have given yourself the trouble to write to her in the language most agreeable to her.[50] In the second place, you addressed the young Queen as 'Your highness,' when she is entitled to be called 'Most serene highness.' She is certain of that, for Oxenstiern had told her that he gained the title for her as an especial prerogative for her from your father and the house of Brandenburg. And in the third place, the Queen was annoyed that your writing was so cold and serious, and contained so few love words. 'If the Elector had nothing more to say to me than is contained in this letter,' cried the Queen, 'he need not have troubled himself to send it privately. This is a political document, which might have been handed by his envoy to the assembled States, and read aloud in public. But, if I do run the risk of receiving and reading a letter secretly, contrary to the high chancellor's wishes, let it at least be a love letter. I merely gave you audience because I was curious to get a love letter at last, and to know how such feelings are expressed. This is no love letter, though, and to such a note I have no other answer than this.' And then the Queen tore the letter into little bits and scattered them on the floor. I gathered up the pieces, in which she aided me assiduously, lest Chancellor Oxenstiern, whom she momentarily expected, might notice something peculiar, and suspect that she had received a secret missive. I asked her most serene highness if I should bring your grace these torn bits of paper as her answer. She replied with a bewitching smile that I must do so. Her cousin Frederick William might thereby learn to write her a better letter, when she would give him a better answer. This, gracious sir, is the story of the letter you intrusted to me for Queen Christina of Sweden."

The Elector laughed aloud. "A charming story!" he cried, "for which I must thank my young relative, for she has lighted my somber existence by a ray of sunshine. It pleases me that my cousin is so forward, and thereby candid. The little maid of fourteen sighs for a love letter, and hopes that her cousin Frederick William, who sues for her hand, will write her one, and is so innocent as to suppose that he woos her because he loves her. Poor child, disappointed in her curiosity and her wish to know herself beloved! Yes, yes, it is the perpetual longing of the young heart to be loved, and when the first love letter is received, the foolish young creature fancies itself the happiest being upon earth, and feels itself transported into the blessedness of paradise. Alas! they know not that all this is only an illusion, a sweet morning dream from which they will speedily be roused by rude, ungentle hands. Leuchtmar, I can not gratify the little Queen of Sweden in her wish; I can write her no love letter, for I would be guilty of deceiving this young heart. No, I can utter no tender protestations, while my heart is still bleeding from inflicted wounds. But a cordial, friendly letter I will write to my dear cousin. I will write to her in faultless Latin, and couch it in most reverential terms. Who knows, perhaps I may yet win her heart, and she heal mine! I will write the letter, and you shall secretly transmit it to Queen Christina. I will so express it that it shall not seem to her fitted to be read before the assembled States, even though it be no love letter. Go now, Leuchtmar, and rest after the fatigues of your journey. But to-morrow evening, when business is ended, come to me in my cabinet, and let us read a couple of Horace's odes for my strength and encouragement, as we used to do when I was still a free young man and not the Elector, the slave of position."

He offered the baron his hand, and affectionately conducted him to the door himself. Just at this moment that door was quickly opened, and a page appeared.

"Your Electoral Highness," was his announcement, "the imperial envoy, Count Martinitz, craves an audience for himself, a special messenger from the Emperor, and his attendant."

"Admit his Majesty's envoys," replied Frederick William, as he again crossed the room and seated himself in the armchair before his writing table.

X.--A SECRET AUDIENCE.

The three persons announced entered the Electoral cabinet. First came Count Martinitz with important air, dressed in the richly embroidered costume of a Spanish courtier, followed by an old man of venerable aspect and the bearing of a scholar, clad in a suit of black velvet, and by a young lord in a magnificent court dress. The Elector sprang up on beholding the latter, and a flush of indignation suffused his countenance.

"Count Martinitz," he asked hastily, "whom do you bring to me?"

"Your highness," replied. Martinitz, with firm, composed voice--"your highness, I beg to be allowed to present these two lords to you. This is Dr. Gebhard, a very learned and wise man, the Emperor Ferdinand's cabinet and privy counselor, sent by his Majesty to your highness, charged with a confidential and secret errand. Permit me now to present to your highness, this other gentleman."

"I know him!" cried the Elector, with flashing eyes and angry mien. "I am only too well acquainted with Count Adolphus Schwarzenberg and all the plots and intrigues concocted by him in Berlin, and his efforts to lead my officers into insubordination and revolt. But when I ordered investigations to be made into these matters, and the count should have justified his actions, the boastful lord showed himself to be but a cowardly deserter!"

"Your highness!" exclaimed the count coming forward with long strides, and touching the hilt of the dress-sword hanging at his side--"your highness, I have come to justify myself against the calumnies of my enemies. Will you be pleased to hear me patiently, and not impugn my honor as a gentleman and a count of the empire before you have listened to my justification?"

"You would justify yourself! Do you dare to attempt this?" asked the Elector indignantly. "Look, here on my table lies the paper which the States of the Mark have addressed to me, and in which they accuse you. The Emperor's Majesty has sent me a scholar, who can certainly read it aright, if I perchance have made some mistake. Read, if you please, Dr. Gebhard, read these lines, and hear what the States write to me!"

He handed the imperial legate the document and pointed out with his finger the passage in point.

Dr. Gebhard read: "Count John Adolphus Schwarzenberg, however, eluded the investigation by flight in the night-time, and despite a guard set. In an unusual way and in utter contempt of your highness's received orders, he secretly escaped."[51]

"Now," cried the Elector passionately, "would you maintain, that my States have reported to me what is not true?"

"It is true," said Count Schwarzenberg. "I saw myself forced to escape unjust pursuit, and--"

"Forced by your bad conscience, sir," interrupted the Elector impatiently. "You left it for others to draw out of the fire the chestnuts which you had thrown in, and when you found out that I was not the timid, powerless Prince you supposed me to be, who could be frightened at a contest with you and your faction and awed by your glory and dignity; when you saw that I would bring you to justice, you evaded the course of law and fled precipitately from the judges."

"Because I knew that these judges were my enemies, and that he who was at their head, President von Götze, had been my father's implacable foe of old."

"That is to say, he had been of old an honest, true Brandenburger, not merely having proved himself an incorruptible man, but never having condescended to bribe others for the sake of obtaining honor, position, or wealth for himself."

"Your highness," called out the count hastily, "would you defame my father even in his grave?"

"Have I pronounced your father's name?" asked the Elector, with dignity.

"Is it not rather you who asperse your late father's fame by referring to him what I said with regard to bribery?"

The count cast down his eyes and was silent. Frederick William now turned by a slow movement of the head to Count Martinitz.

"Sir Count," he said gravely and ceremoniously, "I interrupted you in your presentation. Continue it, and introduce this gentleman to me. I must know in what capacity he dares return to my dominions and intrude upon my presence."

"Your Electoral Highness, I have the honor of presenting to you the count of the empire, Adolphus John von Schwarzenberg, imperial privy counselor and chamberlain, also _attaché_ and associate of the Emperor's ambassador extraordinary, furnished with a safe conduct signed by the Emperor himself."

"I well knew," cried the Elector, "that this gentleman had made sure of his own safety before venturing near me. That was the reason of my question. As imperial officer and chamberlain he is secure against my just wrath, and his Majesty's safe conduct a glorious wall behind which to hide himself. Let him profit by it; I shall not see him behind the wall, but instead only a piece of white paper, on which his Imperial Majesty has inscribed his name, and accordingly I shall respect this piece of paper, which otherwise I would tear in twain."

"Your highness!" cried Count Schwarzenberg--"your highness, I--"

"Count von Martinitz," interposed the Elector haughtily, "I empower you to say to the ambassador extraordinary of his Imperial Majesty, that I give him leave to deliver the Emperor's message to me and to impart to me his Majesty's desires."

"Most respected lord and Elector," said Dr. Gebhard with solemnity, "his Majesty the Emperor Ferdinand sends me to your highness in the assured hope that in your justice and exalted wisdom your grace will be superior to all personal enmities, and not visit upon the son faults, perhaps unintentional, committed against you by the father."

"Of what father and son do you speak, sir?" asked the Elector.

"Of the father who for twenty years was the honored counselor and friend of Elector George William, who, faithful even beyond the tomb, forsook the earth no longer tenanted by his lord and Elector. Of the son who has committed no crime except that of being his father's heir, and not allowing his patrimony to be diminished and torn from him. For this son, in the Emperor's name, I would plead with your Electoral Highness for grace and favor, beseeching you not to deprive him of his rights, but to restore to him what belongs to him."

"Tell me, Dr. Gebhard," asked the Elector, "what those rights are of which I have deprived him, according to his Majesty's opinion, and what things I have taken from him which belong to him?"

"Already in his father's lifetime Count John Adolphus Schwarzenberg was elected his coadjutor in the Order of St. John, therefore on his father's demise he had a right to the vacant dignity of grand master, and yet this has not been accorded him by your highness. As his father's heir, Count John Adolphus received all his father's property, and entered into possession of it. Yet this your highness did not allow him uncontested, and withheld what was his. Nay, your highness even instituted a criminal process against the young count, his father's heir. This last proceeding is especially distasteful and annoying to his Majesty; the Emperor wishes above all things that your highness withdraw this criminal suit, referring it to the imperial court at Vienna, and that you again receive Count John into favor." [52]

"Truly his Imperial Majesty asks and requires a great deal of me," cried Frederick William, with flashing eyes and cheeks flushed with anger. "More than a prince dare give, who has to act not merely in subjection and dependence, but as Sovereign of his people. It seems to me as if no one had cause to interfere in this affair of Count Adolphus Schwarzenberg, for it concerns the interior interests of my realm. Within the limits of my own country I alone am lord and ruler, and only one lord there is, before whom I bow, and whom I recognize as my superior--_the law_! Law is properly supreme within the Brandenburg provinces, and shall and must reign over high and low! But my favor, sir, my favor, can only flow spontaneously from within, and can not be arbitrarily bestowed even at an Emperor's behest. I have not withdrawn my favor from Count Adolphus Schwarzenberg, for he never possessed it. Law and right alone must decide for or against him. Many of my subjects have brought accusations against him, and for these I am pledged to procure justice at the hands of the courts of justice. What was done in my lands must be also judged in my lands, else my subjects might be wounded in their sense of right; and to assign this suit to the imperial court at Vienna would be in the highest degree derogatory to the Electoral power and jurisdiction. I can not therefore gratify his Imperial Majesty in this wish.[53] As concerns his right to the place of grand master, that appointment belongs not to me, but to the members of the order. They, however, will not elect the young count, and I can not compel them to do so. Lastly, as regards the estates claimed by the heir of the Stadtholder in the Mark, his title to them is wanting, and, moreover, there are no accounts to prove that the money for which the estates were mortgaged was ever used by the Stadtholder for my father's benefit. Besides, even if such contracts existed, they were entered into without the consent of the States, and consequently by the laws of the land were null and void. This is the reply I have to make to the imperial envoy, of which I can alter and abate nothing, however I may deplore any apparent disrespect to his Imperial Majesty's wishes. Return to Vienna, Dr. Gebhard, return with your associate and _attaché_, and repeat to the Emperor what I have said to you. You are dismissed, gentlemen."

"Your Electoral Highness will pardon me for venturing to add one more word," said Count Martinitz, "but I am empowered to do so by the imperial order. The Emperor Ferdinand commissioned me in his own handwriting, in case that your highness refused to accede to the demands made by Dr. Gebhard--"

"Demands?" broke in the Elector. "I did not hear Dr. Gebhard make use of any such term. Mention was made only of imperial wishes and requests. You mean that in case I do not grant Dr. Gebhard's requests--Proceed, Count Martinitz."

"I am in that case commissioned to desire your highness in the Emperor's name to grant a private audience to the _attaché_ of the imperial embassy, the Emperor's privy counselor and chamberlain, Count Adolphus von Schwarzenberg, as he wishes to make an important and confidential communication to your highness."

Frederick William's piercing eyes were fixed with a questioning expression upon the count's face, whose eyes returned the look with a bold and steady gaze.

"You presume greatly upon the respect I owe the Emperor," said the Elector after a pause. "I have wished to regard you hitherto merely as a piece of paper hallowed by the Emperor's superscription. But now you voluntarily step forth from behind the protecting paper, and present yourself to me as a man, a self-dependent individual, who is responsible for his words and actions. Consider well what you risk, sir, and take my advice: retreat, while yet there is time! Ask me not to look upon you as you actually are, but be content, inasmuch as in you I respect the Emperor's safe conduct. Reflect once again, and then speak!"

"Your Electoral Highness," said the count after a pause, "the Emperor has condescended to request a secret audience for me of your grace. I entreat your highness to grant it to me."

"You desire it? Be it so, then!" cried the Elector. "You, gentlemen, Count von Martinitz and Dr. Gebhard, are dismissed. Count Schwarzenberg may remain. For the Emperor's sake I am ready to grant him the secret audience. Take your leave, gentlemen! Your audience is at an end!"

The two gentlemen bowed low and withdrew. The Elector followed them with his eyes until the door closed behind them. Then he slowly turned his head toward Count Schwarzenberg.

"Speak now," he ordered coldly and severely. "Say what you have to say, but weigh well each word, and take heed of rousing my wrath, for I tell you the measure of my patience and forbearance is well-nigh exhausted! What would you have of me? What do you want?"

"Justice, your highness, justice! Enter into no contest with me! Take not away from me the estates given in pledge by the Elector George William to my father, which have not yet been redeemed. Acknowledge me as the Grand Master of the Knights of St. John, graciously nominate me Stadtholder in the Mark, and I swear to you that I shall be your faithful and devoted servant, your mediator with Emperor and empire! You see, your highness, I ask for nothing but justice!"

"Justice!" repeated Frederick William, while with flashing eyes he approached one step nearer the count. "Beware of reminding me that I have not exercised justice toward you! Ask it not, for then I must needs summon a guard and have you arrested! Then must I call a court-martial, have you tried, and see you mount the scaffold!"

"The scaffold!" exclaimed the count, turning pale. "But then the Emperor would call you to account for this deed of violence, and--"

"Deed of violence, you call it?" interposed the Elector. "You are mistaken, sir; it would only be a merited punishment! You deserve this punishment, not on account of anything done by your father, although in sooth you bore a full share in his deeds, but on account of your own crime."

"Crime, your highness?"

"Yes, count, crime! You are a conspirator, a rebel! You incited my officers to revolt, entangled them in a conspiracy, and when I would have brought you to judgment you fled like a cowardly woman."

"Your highness!" screamed the count, "I beseech you, weigh your words, provoke me not too much! Otherwise I might forget the respect due you."

"And if you should venture, I have ample means of leading you back to the proper bounds, of forcing you to respect me, to fall down in the dust, and plead for pardon! Do you know what you are? Do you know what you were?"

"What I was I know," cried the count. "I was the favored lover of your sister, Princess Charlotte Louise!"

"Ah! Now at last you drop your mask, now you show your real face. The face of a slanderer, a liar! For you utter a falsehood. You calumniate the virtue of a noble lady, and boast of a favor you never received."

"I speak the truth, your highness, and am in a condition to prove it. Princess Charlotte Louise gave me her favor, and went further than was seemly for a modest maiden. She volunteered to grant me a rendezvous impelled by ardent love."

"That is not true."

"It is true, sir, and I can prove it! I have the writing with me, in which your sister invites me to a rendezvous in the castle at Berlin. She wrote it with her own hand, and signed it with her name. Until now, no one has known the secret, and no one shall know it if we can agree."

"We agree?"

"Yes, your highness, _we_! Your sister's letter is well worth what I ask. I demand nothing but my rights. Leave me my estates, acknowledge me as grand master, appoint me my father's successor, give me the hand of Princess Charlotte Louise."

"My sister's hand to _you_?"

"To me, for I have a right to that hand. The Princess engaged herself to me, and granted me favors."

"Wretched man, to boast of them!" interrupted the Elector.

"She appointed a meeting with me to take place by night," continued the count quietly. "Your honor would be destroyed if any one knew of this. Let me keep it intact! Give me your sister's hand! For I tell you if you do not the world shall hear of this _faux pas_ on the part of the Princess. I shall publicly expose the letter she wrote to me, and a laugh of scorn will pursue both you and her through the whole of Germany! Give me your sister's hand!"

"Were you the Emperor himself I would not give her to you. And if you were in a position to defame my whole house, I would not give her to you! And were my sister to fall at my feet weeping at my refusal, I would not give her to you! Yes, and if I knew that my lands and wealth would be doubled by this marriage, I would _never_ give my sister to you! I asked you just now if you knew what you were and what you are. To the first question you replied that you were my sister's lover. Now I will tell you what you are: you are the son of a poisoner and a murderer!"

"Sir!" screamed the count, bounding forward in fury and with a sudden movement drawing his dagger from its sheath--"sir, you assail my father in his grave, I will defend him! You owe me satisfaction for this insult! It is not the Elector who stands before me, but a man who has wounded my honor, and I demand satisfaction. You dare not refuse it, or--"

"Or you will complete your father's work, will you? Will hire murderers to do what you dare not attempt yourself? Oh, you may very probably find a second Gabriel Nietzel, whom you may goad on to crime, profiting by his agony and distress of mind to change a thoughtless deceiver into a poisoner! Do not stare at me in such amazement, as if you understood not my words! You know Gabriel Nietzel well, and your dagger would not have fallen from your hand if your conscience had not struck it down!"

"I know nothing of Gabriel Nietzel!" cried the count, "I only know that you have called my father a murderer and--"

"And, I did wrong in this, for certainly the murderous deed miscarried! _I_ live! And _he_ was forced to die. Do you know of what your father died?"

"Of grief, and the humiliations which you prepared for him!"

"No, he died of remorse. A stroke, they say, put an end to his life. Yes, it was conscience that smote him to the earth. Gabriel Nietzel stood before him and reminded him of his deeds, demanding of him his wife, whom your father murdered because she saved my life!"

"Horrible!" muttered the count, with sunken head and downcast eyes.

"Yes, horrible!" repeated the Elector. "Gabriel Nietzel was the avenging sword sent from on high for your father's punishment. He, the unhappy one, himself confessed his crime to me, and I have forgiven him. I will forgive your father also, for he stands before a higher tribunal, and _He_ who tries the heart, will reward him according to his deeds. But I am your judge, and your deeds accuse you before me! I could have you arrested and tried, and, believe me, I would do so, despite the imperial safe conduct, behind which you have ensconced yourself, but I honor in you the memory of my father, who loved yours, and would not have the world discover how shamefully the magnanimous heart of George William was deceived. Regarding the property you claim from me, let the law decide; regarding the military title you aspire to, let the knights of the order decide; but regarding the accusation which you bring against my sister, and the offer you make me on her account, the Princess alone is the proper person to consult. You shall speak with her this very hour, for I would not have your vain heart puffed up with the idea that the Princess loves you, and that it is only my tyranny which separates you from her. No, you shall speak with the Princess herself, and she shall decide the question between you. And that you may not suppose that I have influenced my sister, you shall speak to her before I communicate with her myself."

He took the handbell and rang; a page appeared. "Request her Electoral Grace the Princess Charlotte Louise to have the kindness to come to me."

"Your Electoral Grace," said the page, "Colonel von Burgsdorf has just come into the antechamber, and urgently insists upon my announcing him to your grace."

"Admit him and call the Princess. When the gracious young lady has entered the antechamber, let me know. Admit the colonel."

"Here I am, your highness, here I am!" cried Conrad von Burgsdorf, coming in with hasty steps. "I am just from Berlin, and bring my dearest lord good news, and--But what is that?" interrupted he, fixing his lively gray eyes upon Count Schwarzenberg, who, pale and visibly disconcerted, had withdrawn into one of the window niches.

For one moment Burgsdorf stood still, as if bewildered by the unexpected sight, then he sprang forward like a tiger, and laid his hands like iron claws upon the count's shoulders.

"In the name of the Elector and the law, I arrest you Count Schwarzenberg!" he shrieked.

"Let him go, Burgsdorf," commanded Frederick William.

"No, gracious sir," cried Burgsdorf, "I can not, must not let him go. I must hold fast to my prisoner until I have put him in a safe prison. If I take my hands off him, he will surely find some mousehole to creep through. I know the fine gentleman, and have had experience of his mouselike nature. I thought I had him safe at Berlin, imprisoned in his own palace, and sentinels stationed everywhere. A man could not have escaped, but a mouse can find a hole to retire to almost anywhere. Master Mousy here slipped off through an underground passage. Fortunately I had stationed a couple of spies in front of the park, and one of them came to inform me that they had seen two suspicious personages issue from the park, while the other dogged their footsteps. I flew to horse, and, thinking that the young count would make for Spandow, raced with my men to the Spandow Gate. Exactly, they had just fled on before. We gave them chase. Huzza! that was a hunt! Already I thought I had the fugitives within my reach, and stretched out my hand to grasp them, when they galloped into the fortress, the gate was shut, and I stood baffled on the outside, and had my mortification increased by hearing Colonel Rochow's mocks and jeers from the wall above. And now when I can take my revenge, when I at last have my prisoner trapped and caught, now, your highness commands me to let him go. No, your highness, it is impossible; for trust me, as soon as I let him go he will find his way to some mousehole. I arrest you in the name of the Elector and the law, Count John Adolphus von Schwarzenberg!"

"Burgsdorf!" cried the Elector in a commanding tone, "once more, I command you to let him go, and come here. Obey without delay!"

The colonel muttered between his teeth a few wild words of wrath, but released the count, and with bowed head and chagrined air slunk toward the Elector.

"You treat me like a well-trained pointer, your highness!" he growled. "You whistle for me, and I drop the prey which you would not have me keep."

"You do yourself too much honor, old Burgsdorf," said the Elector, smiling. "A well-trained pointer does not follow a false scent, and that was what you were doing just now. Did you expect to find a fugitive in your master's cabinet? You thought that this was Count John Adolphus Schwarzenberg, whom I was compelled to arraign as a criminal, and who, in his consciousness of guilt, took refuge from trial in flight. Look closely at what is in the window niche and acknowledge that you were mistaken, and that it is not Count Adolphus Schwarzenberg."

Colonel Burgsdorf, perfectly bewildered, gazed with wide-open eyes first on the Elector and then on the count, who returned his stare with a scornful smile.

"Most gracious sir," he then cried, "my head is not clear enough to discern your meaning, and I stick to it: that is Count Adolphus Schwarzenberg, my escaped prisoner."

"And I repeat it, you are mistaken, your old eyes deceive you! Look once more right sharply and closely, and you will perceive your error and comprehend that this is not Count Adolphus Schwarzenberg, to whom I could never have granted an audience in my cabinet. Only look closer and you will see, old Burgsdorf, that there is nought in the window niche but a great sheet of parchment, inscribed with manifold characters, furnished with the seal of the empire, and signed by the Emperor Ferdinand's own hand. I know that you do not read with ease, and therefore will tell you what is marked on this parchment, and what it means. It means a safe conduct, and the Emperor himself has written upon it that this parchment must be held in honor and sacred from all attack."

"Ah!" cried the colonel--"ah! I begin to understand now."

"Well truly that is a fortunate circumstance," said the Elector, smiling.

"Yes, your highness," repeated Burgsdorf, "I begin to understand. Let me examine the thing narrowly once again."

He covered his eyes with his hand, as if he were blinded by a ray of light, and again stared at the window niche.

"Yes, indeed," he said slowly--"yes, I see it quite plainly and distinctly now. Yes, that is no man, but a veritable piece of parchment, and I recognize, too, the imperial seal and the Emperor's handwriting. Where were my eyes that I did not see it from the first, and what a stupid fool I was to suppose that I saw a man there! What misfortune would have ensued if I had defaced the Emperor's handwriting or broken the seal, perhaps!"

"It would have been a wrong done to Imperial Majesty itself," smiled the Elector, "and might have brought me under the ban of the empire, or perhaps produced a war."

"Good heavens! a war about an ass's hide," exclaimed Burgsdorf, with an expression of horror.

"Surely, your highness," shrieked the count, stepping forth from his place of retirement, pale and trembling with passion, "you can not ask me any longer to submit in silence to such gross insults."

"Gracious sir," asked Burgsdorf, "may the ass's hide speak? May a piece of parchment, merely because hallowed by the Emperor's signature, venture to leave its place and threaten?"

"Hush, Burgsdorf! And you, sir, step back into your recess, stay in the place pointed out to you, and wait."

"Learn to wait!" cried Burgsdorf. "Oh, gracious sir, that is the very window niche in which I was once forced to stand in order to learn to wait. I thank you, gracious sir, for in this hour you give me my revenge. Now it is for my enemy to learn; and I beseech Your Grace to give me leave to open my budget from Berlin. The parchment must hear it and learn. Oh, I know how it feels to have to listen in silence to have to learn to wait!"

"Colonel Conrad von Burgsdorf," said the Elector with majesty, "you are here to bring me tidings from Berlin. Speak out and be assured that no one will venture to interrupt you. In the first place, have you executed my orders?"

"Yes, gracious sir, according to the best of my abilities and the means at my disposal."

"As their superior officer, have you required an oath of allegiance to me from the commandants and garrisons of the forts?"

"I sent your orders everywhere, requiring the commandants to swear their men into service in your name, and to come to Berlin that I might administer the same oath to themselves."

"And have they done so? Have my officers and troops sworn to serve me faithfully?"

"A few commandants have done so, but Kracht, Rochow, and Goldacker have refused, declaring that they would rather blow their fortresses up than swear fealty to the Elector. Hereupon I forthwith had the commandant of Berlin, Colonel von Kracht, arrested, and would have proceeded in like manner against the Commandants von Rochow and von Goldacker, but the traitors got wind of my intentions. Goldacker left Brandenburg with thirty horse, and, report says, went over to the Imperialists. Colonel von Rochow, however, in his fortress assumed a warlike attitude, and gave out that he was ready to do battle with the enemy to the death. Meanwhile Margrave Ernest conferred with him under a flag of truce, and the committee of investigation at Berlin diligently prosecuted their labors, and brought to light heinous offenses committed by the two colonels and Count John Adolphus von Schwarzenberg."

"Do you know the particulars? The colonels were accused of cheating and embezzlement, were they not?"

"Yes," said Burgsdorf with a little embarrassment, "the question regards the payment of the troops enlisted, for which the colonels received money, and--and--"

"And yet the men were not enlisted," said the Elector, with an imperceptible smile. "Had they done nothing more than this, I would have pardoned them; if they had shown themselves in other respects true and faithful, and repented of their folly."

"But this they have by no means done!" cried Burgsdorf eagerly. "They have rather shown themselves to be obstinate and untoward. Goldacker has been extorting bonds in Fürstenwald, plundering whole villages, and putting the magistrates in chains, because they would not say that Goldacker gave the press money to the young fellows of the village, although these had not made their appearance. Colonel von Rochow put the clerk of his muster roll in irons, and had him condemned to the gallows by a court-martial, because the poor fellow would not bear false witness and swear that the colonel had made payments to him. When the Stadtholder demanded the clerk's release, Colonel von Rochow insolently refused to give him up, and now the margrave ordered me to arrest him. But von Rochow did as his accomplices--he fled and made his escape to the Imperialists."

"Let the Imperialists keep Goldacker and Rochow," said the Elector. "I would have them know that I from this time forth cheerfully resign their services, and yield them up with good grace to the Emperor and empire. With these two, therefore, we have done. Tell me now, how the Schwarzenberg affair stands. We gave orders that in due time the papers found in the palace of the deceased count should be sealed and handed over to the committee of investigation. Was this done, and has it perhaps been made evident from the examination of the papers, that the son of the Stadtholder was innocent of complicity in the intrigues of his father and friends, and been falsely accused by us?"

"On the contrary, your highness, it was proved that Count John Adolphus had conspired, not merely with the rebellious officers, but with other persons not subjects of your highness. Among the papers of the old count was found the young gentleman's secret correspondence. It was in cipher, it is true, but there are very learned men on the committee of investigation, and they discovered the key, and were able to read the letters. Oh, most gracious sir, all your faithful servants were shamefully slandered and calumniated in these letters. Your highness even was not spared, and the young gentleman expressly wrote that he would do all he possibly could to effect the downfall of the Elector Frederick William. Of the States, he said that they were almost all friends of the Swedes and foes of the Emperor, and, above all, he represented me, Conrad von Burgsdorf, as a bitter enemy to the Emperor, and said that on that account all orders came to me. But the States will complain to the Emperor that the rebellious slanderer, Count Schwarzenberg, has blackened them so abominably and accused them of high treason."

"They can do so," said the Elector--"they can call the slanderer to account, and you can do so too, Burgsdorf, if it seems necessary to you."

"But it does not seem at all necessary to me, your highness," cried the colonel. "I have only one master, yourself, and if I had injured your grace I should have been guilty of high treason. Henceforth I shall be nothing but the most devoted and diligent servant of my dear young lord and Elector, and I care very little about Schwarzenberg's having aspersed me to the Emperor if I am only blessed with your favor."

"I have recognized you as a true and faithful servant," said the Elector kindly, "and I am no ingrate. You shall experience this hereafter, for I shall find means to reward my old friend as he deserves!"

"Your highness, you have rewarded me already," cried Burgsdorf--"you have called me your friend, my Elector, and I thank you out of a full heart."

The Elector nodded. "In time all the world shall learn that I honor and esteem you as my friend," he said. "But now tell me, what progress has been made in quieting the refractory soldiery in the Mark? Have you begun that difficult task?"

"We have begun, your highness, and will also end, although at first there was much insubordination and mutiny, and although the cart had been driven so deep into the mire that we could not have drawn it out altogether without great difficulty, even if there had been more of us."

The door of the antechamber opened, and the page made his appearance.

"In accordance with your highness's request, the Princess has entered the antechamber."

"Beg the young lady to wait a moment. I will come directly to conduct her grace into my cabinet."

"Burgsdorf," said the Elector, turning to the colonel, "go up now, and pay your respects to my mother. You can tell her what is going on at Berlin. Her grace will hear you gladly, for she takes great interest in the cities of Berlin and Cologne."

"Very curious stories I can tell the Electress, since your highness accords me that permission!" cried the colonel. "Many thrilling affairs have happened, and--"

"Go now, my friend," said the Elector, pointing to the door through which Burgsdorf had entered. Then he crossed over to the opposite end of the apartment himself and opened the door of the inner room.

XI.--MEETING AND PARTING.

"Be kind enough to come in, dear sister," said the Elector, standing in the doorway and smilingly greeting the Princess, who now entered the apartment.

"I have come at your bidding, Frederick," said the Princess, accepting her brother's proffered hand, and looking up at him with a sweet, affectionate smile.

In the window niche stood John Adolphus Schwarzenberg, and the fires of passion and resentment burned in the glance which he fixed upon the Princess, whom he now saw for the first time after a lapse of three years. How much pain and mortification had he not suffered during these three years on her account? The only change wrought in the Princess by the flight of time was a more perfect development of beauty and of grace of carriage. The count heaved a deep, painful sigh, and the rage of despair took possession of his soul at the sight of that noble, tranquil countenance.

"She has not suffered," he said to himself. "She never loved me, and will now despise me!"

"Forgive me, sister, for troubling you to come to me," said Frederick William, nodding affectionately to the Princess. "I ought indeed to have come to you, but I wished to speak with you on a matter strictly confidential, which I did not wish our mother and sister to know anything about."

"Is it really a secret, then?" asked Charlotte Louise--"no bad secret, I hope, Frederick?"

"It at least touches very grave matters," replied the Elector. "Look yonder at that window niche."

The Princess turned quickly, and looked in the direction indicated. A low scream escaped her lips, and she sank trembling upon a seat.

"Adolphus!" murmured her quivering lips.

This single utterance spoke more eloquently to both men than the most elaborate arrangement of sentences could have done. It told them that years of separation had not estranged the Princess from Count Schwarzenberg; that her heart still called him by the familiar name accorded him by love; that with the count, Charlotte Louise was not the proud Princess, but only the humble, loving maiden. The Elector understood this, and a cloud overshadowed his brow.

The count understood it, too, and his dark countenance brightened. With uplifted head he rushed from the window niche to the Princess, and, kneeling before her, seized her hand to press it to his lips. But this touching of her hand seemed to restore to the Princess her strength and self-possession. By a hasty movement she released her hand and rose.

"Brother," she said, "is it customary to greet princesses in this style? Be pleased to tell me, for you know I have been but little in the world, and am, therefore, but little conversant with its forms."

"No, Louise, it is not customary," replied Frederick William, breathing more freely; "but Count Schwarzenberg seems to suppose, that as your favored lover he need not regard the laws of ceremony."

"As my favored lover?" asked the Princess, a blush suddenly suffusing her brow and neck, while her blue eyes, usually so soft, sparkled with indignation. "Did I hear aright? Did you actually say that to _me_, brother, to your sister? Did you call this or any other man my favored lover?"

"I only repeated the words made use of by Count John Adolphus von Schwarzenberg in suing for your hand, sister. This gentleman affirms that you have granted him more favor than was seemly in a modest maiden. And when I doubted it he replied that he could prove it, for he possessed a note, written with your own hand, in which you invited him to a rendezvous by night."

"He said that!" cried the Princess. "He said that, and you did not kill him on the spot?"

"I did not kill him," answered the Elector gravely and solemnly, "because no one should die for the truth. And he maintains that he speaks the truth: that by means of this letter of yours he can dishonor you and my house in the eyes of the whole world. Say then, Louise, is it true; does he actually possess such a letter?"

Charlotte Louise shuddered and tottered backward.

"Yes!" she breathed--"yes, he speaks the truth--he does possess such a letter!"

"No!" cried the count, "he did not speak the truth! Oh, forgive me, Princess, forgive me this slander, which my lips uttered, uttered in the delirium of pain, love, and despair! I lied, Princess, you never wrote to me, never! I said that in order to force your brother to give me your hand, because I love you, Princess, you know not how dearly! Ah! you little imagine with what fervor of devotion my soul clung to you, and what you did that time when you mocked and betrayed me, treating me like a despised beggar! That hour wrought a change in my whole nature! The most sacred blossoms of my love had been crushed by you, and I trampled them under foot and strove to bury my despair in mirth and pleasure. I did not succeed. The sacred old song of the buried love was forever making itself heard in low, sweet strains. I would not listen, I tried to drown it. I became a conspirator, a rebel, for I longed to take vengeance upon you and your house. Fate was against me; my revenge constituting my punishment. I must flee, I must leave as a fugitive the land in which you live. The Emperor received me graciously, giving me rank and titles, and bestowing upon me marks of favor and regard, thus opening to the ambitious heart a career of fame, dignity, and honor. All was in vain, though. I felt too late that love, not ambition, had urged me into the dangerous paths of insurrection and revolt. I could not forget you. Like a radiant star, you ever shone upon the midnight darkness of my soul. I must see you again, to obtain from your own lips my sentence of pardon or condemnation. I despised all danger, even the order of arrest issued against me, and obtained the Emperor's leave to accompany his ambassador here. I came and suffered the severest mortification that a man can suffer. I subjected myself to your brother's scorn and contempt. Then at last my heart rebelled, and when he scornfully refused your hand to me, I claimed it as my right, by virtue of the love you once vowed to me. The Elector disputed your love for me, and then, in the rage of my heart, I boasted of a favor which I never received, boasted of having received from you a letter, and an invitation to a rendezvous. Oh, forgive the madman who kneels here at your feet and suffers the agony of death. He has no right to claim anything, he only implores from you an act of grace!"

While the count thus spoke in passionate excitement, the Elector had slowly retired, and, standing apart with folded arms, gazed upon the couple with melancholy eyes. In the beginning the Princess had sunk upon a chair, with bowed head and hanging arms, pale as a drooping lily. But the glowing words which fell upon her ear seemed to find an echo, a painful echo, in her heart. Slowly she raised her head, and breathlessly listened to his words, while the color once more mounted to her cheek. When the count stopped, she slowly rose and proudly and indignantly drew herself erect.

"You speak falsely now, Count Schwarzenberg," she said, "for what you told my brother was true. Yes, three years ago, in the childish folly of my heart, I granted you a favor unseemly for a modest maiden. Yes, I wrote you a note with my own hand, inviting you to a rendezvous in the castle at nine o'clock in the evening. Brother, I confess this, although I know that I am thereby forever forfeiting your esteem. But this man has accused me, and I honor the past of my heart, while I acknowledge the fault of which he accuses me. Yes, I have loved him, warmly, inexpressibly, and have wept and lamented him in a manner little becoming a princess, but in my love I was only a poor simple maiden, who wanted nothing in the whole world but his heart. Well I know that I sinned grievously against my mother and the laws of virtue and propriety in carrying on a clandestine love affair, in allowing my heart to be deceived by his ardent protestations of love and even in my delusion going so far as to grant him a rendezvous--nay, even to ask for one."

"Did you really do that, sister?"

"I did, and have repented it for three long years. That I confess this, that I reveal my secret, should prove to you that I now speak the truth. And therefore you will believe me, Frederick William, when I affirm that this is the only favor of which the count can boast. I have to blush before you, but not before him."

"Not before me either, Louise," said the Elector. "I know love, and in my own heart have battled with all its follies and illusions. I know what you suffer, by remembering my own experiences. It is a bitter grief to be obliged to admit that you have wasted the holiest feelings of your heart upon an unworthy object."

"Yes indeed, it is a bitter grief," sighed the Princess.

"O Princess! spare yourself this grief!" cried the count, still kneeling before her. "You have freely owned that you love me. Why, then, will you turn away from me? Accept me as your husband, and I will love you, serve you, obey you, ask nothing but the privilege of looking upon you, and basking in your presence."

She gave him a long, cold look. "And if I decline your hand, you will revenge yourself, will you not, by displaying my note to the Emperor and the whole world, you will defame me and all my house? Was not that your threat?"

"I spoke in frenzy, in despair. But you shall see that I will ask nothing from you for fear, but all for love. See, here is the note. I have hitherto preserved it as my most precious jewel; my father bade me do so, and told me that this paper might save me in the hour of greatest peril. This hour is now at hand, but I will not have it save me. Here is the note; I offer it to you. Take it, tear it up, and then decide!"

With outstretched hands he held out the paper, but she took it not, and quickly stepped back.

"Keep the paper," she said. "Why should I ask whether you will turn it into a weapon against me? I will accept no favor or advantage from you. Only let it be known at the imperial court, to the whole world, that I loved you; show this paper everywhere, and all will turn from you, all women will despise you, and all men blush for the traitor to love!"

"No one shall despise me, no one shall turn, from me!" cried the count, springing to his feet. With trembling hands he tore the paper into little bits, and threw them on the floor.

"There lies the secret, Princess! Now I am entirely in your power! Now I have no weapon of defense. Call Burgsdorf, your highness, have me arrested, if it seems good to you, I renounce the Emperor's safe conduct, as I just now renounced your sister's letter."

"We accept no act of generosity or renunciation from you," replied the Elector with dignity. "The Emperor's safe conduct I shall respect, and as I allowed you to speak quietly to my sister, although you misrepresented much and put matters in a false light, so I will allow you to depart unmolested. As regards the love letter, your excuse for demanding my sister's hand, the fragments testify as strongly against you as the letter itself. My sister alone has to reply to your offer."

"I have no answer to give this man, for he dare not ask anything more of me," said the Princess proudly. "He who can betray the secrets of the heart degrades himself. The man who boasts of a favor received is unworthy of it, and every woman will despise him. Not merely now, in the hour of danger, have you bethought yourself of my letter, Count Adolphus Schwarzenberg, but you had spoken of it previously to your father. You have turned a young girl's letter into a political bond, which, as a cunning merchant, was to be redeemed and converted into money. Now you have redeemed it; there lies the letter! I give you for it my contempt."

"I think you have now received my sister's answer," said the Elector, "and we have nothing more to say to one another, for the courts must settle other subjects of dispute between us. Go, Count Schwarzenberg, return home to Vienna, for your mission is ended. You are dismissed."

The count answered not a word. One long glance of grief and rage he cast upon the Princess, who stood loftily erect at her brother's side. Then, with a slight bow of salutation, he turned and strode through the room.

Not a sound interrupted the solemn silence save the count's footsteps as he advanced to the door. There he once more paused and turned back his livid, wrathful countenance. The Princess still stood erect, calm, and unmoved, beside the Elector. Schwarzenberg cast down his eyes and left the room. The Princess heard the door shut, and a heavy sigh escaped her breast. "He has gone," she murmured softly, "he has gone; I shall never see him again."

She leaned her head upon her brother's shoulder and wept bitterly.

"You loved him very dearly, then?" asked the Elector gently, throwing his arms around her neck.

"Yes," she whispered softly, "I loved him dearly, and I am afraid I love him still, and will mourn for him forever. No one on earth has mortified me so deeply as he, and yet I shall never love another as I have loved him."

"Poor child," said Frederick William sadly, "you love him still, although you despise him!"

With folded arms he walked several times to and fro, while his sister dropped into a chair, covered her face with her hands, and quietly wept. The Elector stopped in front of her and gently drew her hands from before her face.

"Sister," he said tenderly, "I will dry your tears, for I may do so, and in this hour of most sacred confidence not the shadow of an untruth shall lie between us. When you wrote that billet to the count three years ago he did not come to the rendezvous, did he?"

"No!" cried the Princess; "he dared to let me expect him in vain, to decline the interview which I had granted him. O Frederick! when I think of this I could die for very shame, so much do I hate him who humiliated me so deeply, so much do I despise myself for having incurred and merited this humiliation."

"Louise," said the Elector softly, "if that is your only reason for hating him, then you can love him again, for this is probably the only fault of which he is innocent. Lift up your head, sister, for I can relieve you from this humiliation. It was Count Schwarzenberg's wish to keep the appointment. He stood for two hours before a locked door seeking admission. I, however, stood on the other side of the door, guarding it, and did not depart until he had gone away in despair."

"You, brother?" asked the Princess, whose cheeks grew suddenly crimson. "You knew about it? You prevented the interview?"

"I wanted to guard my sister against her own indiscretion; I wanted to preserve her from error."

"You knew it and kept silence, magnanimously kept my secret from my mother? Oh, and _he_ is innocent? He did not scorn and insult me? I can think of him without anger, without--No, no; forgive me, brother, I--"

"Hear me, Louise," said he softly. "I will prove to you how much I have your happiness at heart, and how gladly I would promote it. If in spite of all that you have learned to-day, in spite of his mode of wooing, you still love Count Schwarzenberg--so love him that for his sake you can forever--mark well my words, _forever_--give up mother, brother and sister, home, country, yea, religion itself, sundering all the ties which bind you here--if you so love him that he is family, home, everything to you, then tell me so, sister, and I will overcome my repugnance and have the count recalled, will accept his offer, and bestow you upon him in marriage. Only you must choose between him and us. In that hour, when I join your hands, we have seen each other for the last time, and never will your return home be possible. But if you really love him, go, for well I know that love only finds its home in the heart of the beloved one. Choose then, sister. Will you follow him? Speak, I shall not reproach you--speak, and I will have him recalled!"

She flung her arms around his neck and gently laid her head upon his breast. "No," she said softly--"no, do not call him back. He has betrayed and desecrated love. My heart revolts from him and turns with deep affection to you. Thank you, brother, for acquainting me with the truth and taking that weight of humiliation from my soul. Now I shall be comforted, now I can hold up my head again. I am not the rejected, but the rejecter. Yes, brother, I have renounced love and happiness. The golden morning dream is over, and I am awake! Let me weep, Frederick, my last tears for a lost love!"

The Elector bent over her and imprinted a kiss upon her brow. "Weep, sister, weep," he said softly. "And if it can in any degree console you, know that I have wept and suffered as you do now."

XII.--THE INVESTITURE AT WARSAW.

At last all matters of dispute were settled, all difficulties smoothed over. King Wladislaus of Poland had declared himself ready to receive the oath of allegiance from his vassal the Elector of Brandenburg, and to invest him with the duchy of Prussia. Hard conditions, truly, were those imposed upon the young Elector, and heavy the sacrifices which the King and, more pressingly yet, the members of the Polish Diet required. That the Elector should pay a yearly tribute of thirty thousand florins, besides a hundred thousand florins from the naval taxes, was a condition to which he had agreed without a struggle; but much severer and more humbling compliances he had to make.

They wished to make him feel that the King of Poland was still lord paramount of Prussia, and that the Elector must give way to him. The nobility of Prussia were therefore to have the right, in all civil and difficult cases, to appeal from the decision of the Elector to that of the King. On the other hand, the Elector was not, without the King's express permission, to occupy a neutral position with regard to any enemy of Poland; he was to receive the King's commissioners whenever it pleased the latter to send them to inspect the fortresses of Memel and Pillau. But the hardest thing was, that the Elector must pledge himself to protect and exalt the Roman Catholic worship in Prussia with all his might, and to do nothing for the further spread of the Reformed Church in Prussia. He was to build up the decaying Catholic Church at Königsberg, and, besides that, have a new one built. The Catholics were to be protected in the free exercise of their worship, and guarded against every attack of the Protestant preachers.

Hard and degrading were these conditions, but the Elector had accepted them. He had bowed his proud heart and constrained it to be humble. Tears of indignation had stood in his eyes as they handed him the document on which were inscribed all these conditions; his hand had trembled when he took the pen, but still he had appended his signature, and none but Burgsdorf had seen the tears which fell from Frederick William's eyes upon his hand as he signed.

"Burgsdorf," he said, pointing to his signature, "do you know what I have written there?"

"No, your highness, that I do not. I am not stupid enough to give myself much trouble deciphering the scratches of a pen. But I know and have read what is written upon your face, sir."

"Well, and what stands written there, old friend?"

"Most gracious sir, it is written there that you suffer now, but will be revenged hereafter. It says that you now in a submissive manner offer your hand to the insolent, cursed Pole, but that on some future day you will shake your fist in his face, and amply requite his haughty arrogance."

"Well done; you have read correctly," exclaimed the Elector, laughing. "You have divined my most secret thoughts."

"And may a good God only deign to grant me this one favor, that I may live long enough to see your thoughts put in action, gracious sir! May he preserve me from gout and paralysis, that I too, may have a hand in the deeds of that blessed day, and strike a few well-aimed blows."

"Well, it is to hoped that not many years will elapse ere the dawning of that day," said the Elector. "I shall not know ease or rest until it is here, and I can have my revenge. Let us think of this, old friend, and be meekly patient and wear a placid mien on our way to Warsaw, to humble ourselves. You know a man must sometimes swallow bitter medicine when he is sick and faint, and the bitterest will appear sweet if he drinks it in order to imbibe new life and health. My poor country is, indeed, sick unto death, and therefore I go to Warsaw to swallow a bitter pill for the health and salvation of my land. But we go on crutches, two hard crutches."

"I know the names of those crutches, your highness," said Burgsdorf. "One crutch is called 'Imperial,' the other 'Polish.'"

"You have guessed correctly, old friend," answered the Elector. "But some day we will throw aside the crutches on which we must now lean, and Prussia shall be the sword which we shall unsheathe and draw against all our foes. I must now submit to having a lord over me, but the time will come when the Prussian black eagle will feel itself strong enough to do battle against the white eagle of Poland, and soar aloft on bold, strong wing. Once more I tell you, old friend, think of that, if we do go now to Warsaw! You are to accompany me, and when you ride into Warsaw at the head of my soldiers, as their colonel and chief, show a smiling visage to the fair Polish women and enchant them by your grace."

"I will so enchant them, your highness," laughed Burgsdorf, "that for rapture at sight of me they will not look at you, and not even make an attempt to win your heart."

"My heart, Burgsdorf?" said the Elector. "I have no heart, at least no personal one. My thoughts and feelings belong only to my country, my ambition, and my future. I now go to Warsaw and bow my head in the dust, that at a later period I may lift it up the more proudly and independently."

And on the 7th of October, 1641, Elector Frederick William of Brandenburg made his entry into Warsaw. At the head of his splendidly equipped regiment rode old Conrad von Burgsdorf, his broad, bloated face flushed crimson, and, as he stroked his long, light moustache, he bowed right and left, saluting the fair ladies, who looked down upon the glittering procession from windows hung with tapestry and decorated with flowers and ribbons. But the fair ladies took but little notice of old Burgsdorf. Their bright eyes were all turned to the handsome young nobleman, who, quite alone, followed the regiment of soldiers. Behind him was seen a brilliant array of gentlemen in handsome uniforms; but all this vanished unnoticed. Only upon _him_, yon youth who rides his horse so proudly and so gracefully, upon him alone were all eyes fixed. How finely his figure was outlined in that closely fitted velvet coat, trimmed with golden "Brandenburgs," and crossed by the golden shoulder belt from which hung his German broadsword. How gracefully fell his long brown hair over his shoulders, how boldly sat upon his head the cocked felt hat, with its crest of black and white ostrich plumes! How fiery and penetrating the glance of those dark-blue eyes, and how sweet and captivating the smile of those full, fresh lips.

Oh, King's daughter, King's daughter, shield your heart, lest it glow with love for the handsome stranger who now draws near, and whom they call the young Elector of Brandenburg! He looks not at _you_, he thinks not of _you_. But _you_--you look at him and think of him. They have told you that they will wed you to him, that the little Elector will esteem it a great honor to become the husband of a daughter of the King of Poland. Why, she is a princess of imperial blood, for her mother is an archduchess of Austria, a daughter of Emperor Ferdinand I! It will, indeed, be a great honor to the little Elector, if they bestow upon him the hand of a king's daughter, an emperor's grandchild, and happy will he be to be allowed to receive it, and to become great by means of his great connections!

Look closely at him, Princess Hildegarde; look at him with your heart and soul, rejoice in his youth, beauty, and proud bearing, for he is to be your husband! Your father will do him the honor to receive him as his son-in-law, and the Emperor will condescendingly admit him to his relationship! See now he has approached quite near the throne which has been erected upon the square fronting the palace. On the throne sits King Wladislaus in the rich national costume. Beside him stands his brother, Prince Casimir, while to the right and left on the steps of the throne stand the magnates with their insignia of rank, the bishops and prelates. Close behind the throne is the kingly palace, and there, upon a balcony hung with gold brocade, stands the Queen; to the right and left of her the two royal Princesses, both so lovely to look upon in their picturesque Polish garb, their raven tresses surmounted by the Polish cap with its heron's plumes.

Oh, King's daughter, King's daughter, you need not fear, you are so charming, so attractive; surely you will win his heart, and he will woo you not merely from political motives, but from love!

Does he see you, and is he looking up at you? No, he only looks up at the King as he now stands at the foot of the throne, beside that magnificent cushion studded with emeralds and pearls. His knights and bodyguard range themselves to the right and left of the throne, and reserve a small open space in the midst of the broad square, which is densely thronged by masses of people behind the closed ranks of the soldiers. In this small vacant space stands he, the young Elector of Brandenburg!

High is his head, radiant the glance which he now lifts higher than the King's throne. Looks he at you, Princess Hildegarde, gazes he upon you, fair maiden of a royal line?

No, his glance mounts higher; to heaven itself he raises both eye and thought! He communes with God and the forefathers of his house, who once, like him, stood at the foot of that throne. And he vows before God and his ancestors that he will be the last Hohenzollern to submit to such humiliation and bend the knee as vassal to the Polish King. He will free his land and crown, and be the vassal of none but God alone!

So swore the Elector Frederick William as he stood at the foot of the throne on which sat the Polish King, resplendent with his crown and scepter, and this oath made his countenance beam with joy and his eyes flame with energy and spirit.

Now is heard the flourish of trumpets and kettledrums, and the bell of every tower in Warsaw rings, for the solemn act begins: the Duke of Prussia is to swear allegiance to the King of Poland!

Three cannon thunder from the ramparts! The bells grow dumb, the trumpets and drums are silent! A breathless stillness pervades that spacious square. The people with dark, flashing eyes gaze curiously upon the heretic, the unbeliever, who is to swear fealty to his Catholic Majesty. The Polish deputies look threateningly upon the bold duke, who dared to enter upon the government of Prussia before he had given his oath of allegiance; the papal nuncio turns his head aside with sorrowful looks, and can not bear to see a heretic, an apostate, invested with authority over a Catholic country.

The King, however, smiles good-naturedly, and the ladies from the balcony in the rear kindly incline their heads and blushingly greet the young Elector, who, doffing his plumed hat, gracefully salutes them.

Three senators approach the Elector. One holds out to him the red feudal banner, which the Elector grasps firmly in his right hand. The second offers him the _Juramentum fidelitatis_ (oath of fidelity), on which the young Prince is to lay his hands and swear. The third holds in his hand the parchment on which is inscribed the feudal oath. The high chancellor now descends from the steps of the throne and takes the parchment out of the senator's hands. The Elector bends his knee upon the richly embroidered cushion, a crimson glow flushes his cheeks, and deep in his soul he repeats: "I shall be the last Hohenzollern to submit to such humiliation and bow in the dust before another Prince. I shall make my Prussia and Brandenburg great. I shall free them from Emperor and King, and shall own no superior but God! To that end, O Lord, grant me thy blessing, and hear the vow my heart utters while my lips are speaking other words!"

The King waves his golden scepter and the lord chancellor begins with resonant voice to read off the oath of allegiance couched in the Latin tongue.

Loud and clearly the Elector speaks each word after him, loud and clearly his lips pronounce words of which his heart knows nothing. To be a submissive vassal, his lips swear--to fulfill faithfully and obediently all the obligations due from him as Duke of Prussia to the King, as is written in the oath of fealty subscribed by him. How full and strong is his voice, sounding distinctly over all the square, and yet how sweet and harmonious every tone!

Oh, King's daughter, King's daughter, shield your heart! Look not down upon his lustrous eyes, heed not his voice, though it ring like music in your ear! Beware of loving him, for you know not whether his heart inclines toward you!

God be praised! The formula of the oath is ended. The Elector may rise from his knees, and, as he does so, he says to himself: "Never again shall this knee bend to man! Never again shall I endure what I have endured to-day!"

But his countenance betrays nothing of the emotions of his soul, and with a smile upon his lips he ascends the steps of the throne, and takes his place upon a seat at the left hand of the King.

And again are heard the ringing of bells and nourishing of trumpets, as they announce to the city of Warsaw, that the Elector Frederick William has just sworn allegiance to the King of Poland. The solemnity is over, and the King, the Elector, and the nobles of his realm, repair to the palace to partake of a banquet which has been prepared there for them.

A sumptuous banquet! The tables glitter with gold and silver plate, around which are ranged the nobles in their striking national costumes. The Brandenburg officers are arrayed in gold-laced uniforms, and between them sit the beautiful Polish ladies, richly adorned with flowers and sparkling gems, themselves the fairest flowers and their eyes the most brilliant gems. Between the King and Queen sits the young Elector, opposite him the two Princesses.

Oh, King's daughter, shield your heart. He talks with you, indeed, and smiles upon you, and sweet words flutter like butterflies across! Butterflies take speedy flight, sweet words are scattered to the wind! Nothing remains of them but a painful memory! If it should be so with you, King's daughter!

The Elector is no longer the humble vassal with serious face and melancholy mien; he is the young ruler, the hero of the future. His eyes glisten, his lips smile, witticisms drop from his mouth, his countenance beams with merriment and youthful joy. Not merely are the ladies delighted with him, but the men also, and the royal pair are glad of heart, for well pleased are they to present such a husband to their amiable daughter.

Not until late at night is the _fête_ concluded, and when the Elector goes home to the Brandenburg Palace, all the nobility attend him with torches in their hands--a long procession of five thousand torches! Like a golden flood it streams through the streets of Warsaw, flashes in at all the windows, and inscribes on every wall in shining characters, "The Elector of Brandenburg, Duke of Prussia, has given the oath of vassalage to the King of Poland!"

The _fête_ is over, but the next morning ushers in new festivities! To-day the Elector gives a splendid entertainment to the royal family and the chief nobility. At table the Queen sits on his right hand, on his left Princess Hildegarde, the King's daughter.

The Elector is cheerful and unembarrassed in manner; she is thoughtful, reserved, and silent. She is wont to be so lively and talkative in her girlish innocence. The Elector, however, knows not that her manner is changed. His heart is a stranger to her, and his glances say no more to her than to all other pretty women! In the evening he dances with her at the Queen's ball--that is to say, the Elector dances with the King's daughter, but not the young man with the beautiful young girl.

Will he not propose? The Queen hints at the great honor which they destine for him; the King says tenderly to him that he would esteem himself happy, if he could call so noble a young Prince his son. But the Elector understands neither the Queen nor the King, he is silent and does not propose. He is so modest and diffident--perhaps he dare not. They must wait awhile. If he has not declared himself on the last day of his visit, they must take the initiative and woo him, since he will not woo.

On this last day it is the Princesses who give a ball to the Elector--a splendid masquerade, for which they have been preparing three months, arranging costumes and practicing dances. A half mask is to-day well chosen for the Princess Hildegarde, for it conceals her agitated features, her anxious countenance. She knows that to-day her fate is to be decided! She knows that at the close of this _fête_ she is to be betrothed to the Elector of Brandenburg.

Yes, since he will not woo, he must be wooed! The King's daughter, the Emperor's grandchild, is exalted so high over the little Elector, the powerless duke, that he actually can not venture to sue for her hand, but must have his good fortune announced to him.

Count Gerhard von Dönhof is selected by the King to execute this delicate commission, and doubts not that his proposition will be auspiciously received.

He requests of the Elector an interview in the little Chinese pavilion near the conservatory, and with smiling, free, and cordial manner tells him how much the Queen and King love him.

"And I reciprocate their feelings with all my heart," answers the Elector. "These delightful days, like brilliant stars, will ever live in my remembrance. Tell their Majesties so."

"Your highness should carry home with you a lasting memento of these days," whispered the courtier.

"What mean you, Count Dönhof?"

"I believe that if you were to ask the hand of Princess Hildegarde, their Majesties would cheerfully grant you their consent and bestow upon you a royal bride."

Gravely the Elector shook his head. "No," he said solemnly--"no, Count Dönhof, so long as I can not govern my land in peace, I dare seek no other bride than my own good sword." [54]

And smilingly, as if he had heard nothing, as if nothing uncommon had happened, the Elector returns to the conservatory.

The Princess Hildegarde also smiles, looks cheerful and happy, and dances with all the cavaliers. But not with the Elector! He does not approach her again.

She seems not to perceive this, and maintains her cheerfulness, even when at last he approaches the Princesses to take leave of them.

"Farewell, Sir Elector! May you have a prosperous journey home and be happy!" So say her lips. What says her heart?

That nobody knows. The Princess has a tender but proud heart! Only at night was heard a low sobbing and wailing in the Princess's chamber. When morning broke though it was hushed. That is the deepest grief which must shun the light of day, and only find vent and expression in the curtained darkness of night.

Poor Hildegarde! Poor King's daughter! Scorned! The Emperor's grandchild scorned by the little Elector of Brandenburg!

He has returned home; he has shaken from his feet the dust of that humbling pilgrimage. The States of the duchy of Prussia had long delayed swearing allegiance to the Elector, feeling that they had been aggrieved as to their rights and privileges. Now at last all difficulties had been adjusted and the deputies of Prussia were ready to do homage to their Duke. Upon an open tribune before the palace stood the Elector, with bared head and radiant countenance, and in front of him at the foot of the throne the deputies from his duchy. They swore faithfulness and devotion, and, as in Warsaw, so in Königsberg the bells rang, and trumpets and drums sent forth triumphant sounds. The roar of cannon announced to Königsberg and all Prussia that to-day the Duke and his States were joined in a compact of concord, love, and unity!

"Leuchtmar," said the Elector, inclining toward the friend whom he had summoned from Sweden, on purpose to be present at this festivity--"Leuchtmar, in this hour the first germ of my future has put forth buds!"

"And a great forest will grow therefrom, a forest of myrtle and laurel, your highness!"

"Leave the myrtle to grow and bloom, Leuchtmar. I care not for that! But I want a rapid growth of laurel! I long for action; and one thing I will tell you, friend: to-day marks a new era of my life. Until now I have been forced to bear and temporize, to bow my head, and patiently accommodate myself to the arrogance and caprices of others. I was so small and all about me so great. I was nothing, they were everything! I must become a diplomatist in order to gain even ground enough on which to stand."

"And now you have gained ground. One title, at least, you have substantiated, and may now claim to be veritably Duke of Prussia. You have now won your position; and my Elector never recedes--he always moves forward!"

"Yes, from this day he moves forward!" cried the Elector, with enthusiasm. "Forward in the path of glory and renown! Hear you the ringing of bells and thundering of cannon! God bless Prussia, my Prussia of the future--my great, strong, mighty Prussia, as I feel she _will_ become. To her I dedicate my life. Not in pride and vain ambition, but in genuine humility and devotion to my duty and my calling. I will have nothing for myself, all for my people, for the honor of my God and the good of my country! In the discharge of my princely functions I shall be ever mindful that I guard not my own, but my people's interests. And this thought will give me strength and joy! This be the device of my whole future: _Pro deo et populo_!--For God and the people!"

"God save our Duke!" cried and shouted the people, as the Elector now descended the steps of the throne in order to return to the palace. "Blessings on our Duke!" cried also the representatives and deputies from the Prussian towns and provinces.

The Elector bowed to right and left, smilingly acknowledging their salutations. His heart swelled with joy and love as he saw all these glad, happy faces, the faces of his own people; and in the recesses of his soul he repeated his oath, to devote his whole life and being to his country--"_Pro deo et populo_!--For God and the people!"

END OF THE VOLUME.

ENDNOTES

[Endnote 1: The exact words of the deputies from Cleves. _Vide_ Droysen, History of the Prussian Policy, vol. in, part I, p. 175.]

[Endnote 2: The Elector's own words. See F. Forster, Prussia's Heroes in War and Peace, i, p. 15.]

[Endnote 3: Historical. _Vide_ Nicolai, Description of the Capital City Berlin, Introduction, p. 27.]

[Endnote 4: The peace of Prague was concluded in 1635, and in this the Elector of Brandenburg renounced alliance with the Swedes and assumed a neutral position.]

[Endnote 5: Historical. _Vide_ Nicolai, i, p. 33.]

[Endnote 6: _Vide_ von Orlich, History of the Prussian State, etc., part 1, p. 34.]

[Endnote 7: _Vide_ von Orlich, History of the Prussian State, etc., part 1, p. 35.]

[Endnote 8: This palace of Count Schwarzenberg was situated on Broad Street, and the open square in front of it was where now stand the houses of the so-called Stechbahn. In the middle of this square stood the cathedral, and behind this, near the Spree, arose the electoral castle. It is the spot where the King's apothecary now has his stand.]

[Endnote 9: A historical fact. _Vide_ von Orlich.]

[Endnote 10: King, Description of Berlin, part I, p, 237.]

[Endnote 11: Droysen, History of Prussian Politics, part 3, p. 172.]

[Endnote 12: Count Lesle's own words. _Vide_ von Orlich, History of Prussia, part I, p. 40.]

[Endnote 13: The Elector Frederick V of the Palatinate, brother to the Electress of Brandenburg, was (after the Archduke Maximilian had been declared to have forfeited the Bohemian throne) elected by the Bohemians to be their King. He accepted the nomination, but a few days after his coronation was defeated in the battle of the White Mountain in Austria (1620); wandered about homeless for a long time, and died in 1632 in Mainz. His wife was a daughter of the King of England, and his mother a Princess of Orange, wherefore his wife and children found a refuge and protection at The Hague.]

[Endnote 14: Count Lesle's own words. _Vide_ Droysen, History of Prussian Politics, vol. iii, p. 173.]

[Endnote 15: Historical. _Vide_ von Orlich, part 1, p. 42.]

[Endnote 16: Historical. _Vide_ von Orlich.]

[Endnote 17: Historical. _Vide_ von Orlich, vol. ii, p. 456.]

[Endnote 18: The Elector's own words. See von Orlich, vol. i.]

[Endnote 19: The precise words of the Electoral Prince, See C.D. Küster, The Remarkable Youth of the Great Elector, p. 39.]

[Endnote 20: Count Adam Schwarzenberg's own words. _Vide_ Droysen, History of the Prussian Policy, vol. iii, part I, p. 35.]

[Endnote 21: Count Adam Schwarzenberg's own words. _Vide_ Droysen, History of the Prussian Policy, vol. iii, part I, p. 35.]

[Endnote 22: Shortly before the Electoral Prince left home he found one evening under his bed a man armed with two daggers. Upon the Prince's outcry, his servants hurried to his assistance and succeeded in capturing the murderer, who endeavored to make his escape. He confessed that he had come to murder the Electoral Prince, and that he had not done so of his own accord, but had been bribed to undertake the deed by a very distinguished lord. This assertion was confirmed by a considerable sum of money, which was found in his pockets upon being searched. They put him in prison, but two days afterward he had vanished, and with him his jailer, who had connived at his flight. The Electoral Prince was firmly convinced that this murderer had been suborned by Count Schwarzenberg, and shortly before his death himself related this story to his physician. _Vide_ Küster, Youthful Life of the Great Elector.]

[Endnote 23: von Orlich, History of the State of Prussia, vol. i, p. 42.]

[Endnote 24: Historical. _Vide_ King, Description of Berlin, part 1.]

[Endnote 25: Historical. _Vide_ Archives of Historical Science in Prussia. Edited by Leopold von Ledebur, vol. iv, p. 97.]

[Endnote 26: They still made use of white as mourning in those days, and in half mourning wore black gloves. Therefore the White Lady appeared altogether in white when the death of the reigning sovereign or his wife was to be announced; but if only some member of their family, in white with black gloves.]

[Endnote 27: _Vide_ Historical; Archives]

[Endnote 28: _Vide_ Buchholz's History of Brandenburg.]

[Endnote 29: See von Orlich, The Great Elector, vol. i, p. 50.]

[Endnote 30: Von Orlich, p. 53.]

[Endnote 31: Frederick William's own words. See Droysen's History of Prussian Policy, vol. in, p. 215.]

[Endnote 32: The Elector's own words. _Vide_ Droysen, vol. iii, p. 217.]

[Endnote 33: Historical. _Vide_ Letters of the Duchess of Orleans to Countess Louise.]

[Endnote 34: In the year 1638 a ship, on board of which were all the Electoral jewels to the amount of sixty thousand gulden, was plundered by a detachment from the corps of General Monticuculi, and all the jewels abstracted. Count Schwarzenberg had three officers concerned in it arrested, and carried to Spandow for trial. Although the Emperor himself desired the release of the imperial officers, the Stadtholder not only refused this, but even subjected the three officers to the torture, in order to extort from them a confession of the place where the jewels had been hid. But they confessed nothing, meanwhile remaining in confinement until the Elector Frederick William restored to them their freedom. _Vide_ von Orlich, The Great Elector, vol. _i_, p. 53.]

[Endnote 35: Droysen, History of Prussian Politics, p. 180.]

[Endnote 36: The Elector's own words. _Vide_ Droysen, History of Prussian Politics, vol. iii, p. 220.]

[Endnote 37: The Elector's own words. See von Orlich, History of Prussia.]

[Endnote 38: Burgsdorf's own words. _Vide_ History of Prussia, by von Orlich, vol. ii, p. 390.]

[Endnote 39: The Elector's own words. See Droysen, History of Prussian Politics, vol. iii, p. 223.]

[Endnote 40: Burgsdorf's own words. See ibid., p. 224.]

[Endnote 41: The Elector's own words. See Droysen, vol. in, p. 223.]

[Endnote 42: Schwarzenberg's own words. See Droysen, History of Prussian Politics.]

[Endnote 43: See von Orlich, History of Prussia, vol. i, p. 60.]

[Endnote 44: See Droysen, History of Prussian Politics, vol. in, p. 223.]

[Endnote 45: Rochow's own words. See Droysen, vol. in, p. 224.]

[Endnote 46: This whole scene is historical. See von Orlich, History of Prussia, vol. i, p. 59.]

[Endnote 47: Count Schwarzenberg was buried in the Tillage church at Spandow, his entrails in a separate case beside him. The sudden and unexpected death of the Stadtholder excited uncommon attention through Germany, and a report was circulated that upon the count's retiring to Spandow on account of ill health the Elector had caused him to be arrested, and secretly beheaded in prison. Even as late as the times of Frederick the Great this report was commonly believed, and Frederick, when he wished to write a history of the reigning house, had the count's coffin opened to ascertain whether the head was separate from the body. No trace of a violent severing of the head from the body was, however, discovered. See Pollnitz, Memoirs, vol. iv, p. 40; Droysen, vol. in, p. 232.]

[Endnote 48: See Droysen, History of Prussian Polities.]

[Endnote 49: See Droysen, vol. iii, p. 239.]

[Endnote 50: Droysen, vol. iii, p. 237.]

[Endnote 51: See Droysen, History of Prussian Politics, vol. iii, p. 236.]

[Endnote 52: See von Orlich, History of Prussia, vol. i, p. 61.]

[Endnote 53: The Elector's own words.]

[Endnote 54: The Elector's own words. See von Orlich, History of Prussia, vol. vi, p. 77.]

End of Project Gutenberg's The Youth of the Great Elector, by L. Mühlbach