"Oh," exclaimed Napoleon, bending a sinister glance on the other princes, "I would my love could succeed in rendering you as young as your heart; it would greatly promote the welfare of Germany. You would regenerate the ancient German empire, and transform it into a real and lasting union." He cordially shook hands with the king, saluted the other foreigners with an impatient nod, and walked to his rooms, where his valets de chambre were awaiting him.

Half an hour afterward Minister Champagny was called into the emperor's cabinet. When the minister entered, Napoleon was pacing the room; his hands folded, as usual, behind him. A map, covered with colored pins, and on which he cast a long, dark look, lay on the table. Champagny remained in respectful silence at the door, waiting the moment when it would please the emperor to notice his presence. At length Napoleon stood facing him. "Champagny," he asked, "do you know why we are here, and what is the object of this meeting?"

"Your majesty has not done me the honor of making a confidant of me," said the minister, respectfully; "hence, I do not know, but merely venture to surmise, what may be the object."

"And what do you surmise?"

"I suppose that your majesty intends to give a fresh impetus to the friendship of the Emperor Alexander, and to conclude a firm alliance with him in order to be sure of him, and to be able to carry on the war in Spain without hinderance, and, if need be, if—"

"Well, why do you hesitate?" said Napoleon, impatiently.

"If need be," added Champagny, "to declare war against Austria."

"Then you really believe in the possibility of such a war?" he said. "Yes, you are right; we must not suffer ourselves to be deceived by apparent humility and equivocal friends; they have a smile on their lips, but at heart they are as hostile as ever, and while with their right hand they greet us, they are arming with their left. But woe to those scoundrels if I catch them at their tricks! I will so punish them as to shatter their thrones and crush their power. Those men who style themselves 'princes by the grace of God' have never learned any thing and never will. They close their ears with arrogance against the events that unerringly speak to them, and they are still lulled to sleep by the nursery-song of 'unapproachable majesty.' But I will arouse them by my cannon, and my armies shall sing them a song of the new majesty that Heaven has sent into the world. It has overtoppled the thrones of Naples and Spain; so it will that of Austria, if such be my desire! Austria must not persist in her insolence, and dare to menace me!"

Frowning, he commenced again rapidly walking the apartment. "Champagny," he said, stopping in the middle of the room, "come here close to me, that even the walls will not hear what I tell you. You shall learn the object of our journey to Erfurt, and I will inform you what you are to do. I have hitherto treated you in the same manner as the admirals to whom I give dispatches to be opened only on the high seas. You have now reached them, Champagny, and shall, therefore, learn your orders. I have taken you with me because you are to assist in accomplishing an important object. I have selected you, and you alone, for I know that I may confide in your discretion, and that you will not betray any secret intrusted to you. Not a word of what you hear now must ever pass your lips—not a hint even to Talleyrand. Talleyrand is a sneak and a traitor, who would like to be on good terms with all parties, so as to be sure of their support whatever may happen. Oh, I know him; I have fathomed him, and can read the thoughts which he takes the greatest pains to conceal. I know that I ought to distrust him—that he is intriguing with Austria; and that, if I suffered him to share in our scheme, he would betray the secrets of my cabinet to the Austrian ambassador. I profit by his services whenever he is useful by his intrigue and diplomatic jugglery; but, I repeat it, I do not trust him."

"Sire, I swear that I should deem myself dishonored if my lips ever betray a syllable of the secret projects of my emperor!" exclaimed the minister, solemnly.

"Well, well, I trust you," said Napoleon, nodding to him. "Now, listen!" He took the minister by one of the golden buttons of his velvet coat and drew him closer to his side. "I have brought about this meeting because I desire to dupe the Emperor Alexander."

Champagny started and looked surprised. Napoleon smiled. "I shall accomplish my purpose so far as Alexander himself is concerned," he said; "but you must do the same with regard to the Russian minister, hard-headed old Romanzoff. And let me tell you why. You know what I promised Alexander at Tilsit, and by what means I succeeded in winning his heart. He is an idealist; the plans of his grandmother Catharine are constantly haunting him, and his thoughts are fixed on Turkey—particularly on Constantinople. He is ambitious, fickle, and visionary. I promised to realize his visions, and thereby gained his confidence. I promised when the time came, not only not to oppose his plans against Turkey, but to support them to the best of my power. In consideration of this promise, he approved my ideas with regard to Spain, and solemnly pledged me his word that he would raise no objection if I hurl the Bourbons from the Spanish throne, and place one of my brothers on it. He has kept his word, for, although the crown is still uneasy on the head of my brother Joseph, yet he is a king, and Alexander will believe that it is time for me to keep my word. His envoys, and his confidential minister, old Romanzoff, have already urged the demands of their master. Joseph having made his entry into Madrid, Alexander desires to enter Constantinople. His impatience has risen to the highest point, and to calm and conciliate him, I consented to his desire for a meeting. He will renew his demands concerning Constantinople, and I shall once more promise."

"Will your majesty promise him Constantinople?" asked Champagny.

"Yes," said Napoleon, smiling, "promise! But I do not intend to perform. Never will I consent to give Constantinople to the Emperor of Russia, for I would thereby surrender the key of a universal monarchy into his hands—he would be at once master of Europe and Asia. He often instructed Caulaincourt to assure me he did not want the whole of Turkey; he did not claim any territory south of the Balkan, nor any part of Roumelia—not even Adrianople—only Constantinople with its neighborhood. He calls it the 'Cat's Tongue,' from its shape, and is more anxious to obtain it than the ancient Romans ever were to indulge in the delicacy of the tongues of nightingales. But if Russia possessed this cat's tongue, it would be transformed into a wolf's, armed with formidable teeth against all commerce and national intercourse. Never shall I permit Russia to annex Constantinople, for that would be destroying the equilibrium of Europe."

"But, sire, you yourself said just now that the Emperor Alexander was most anxious to seize that city, and that the object of his journey to Erfurt was principally to obtain the consent of your majesty to its conquest."

"And I told you also that my object was to dupe and intoxicate him gradually by delusive friendship and promises, by festivities and false homage, until it is indifferent to him whether, as a compensation for the acquisition of Spain by my brother, I give him Constantinople and the Balkan, or something else, provided it is palatable. He has an awful appetite for territory, and it is important to satisfy it in one way or another. It is easy to persuade a hungry man that a very common dish is good roast meat. It is our business, therefore, to suggest to the emperor and his minister another conquest instead of Constantinople, and so to dress up the idea that they may relish it, and ask for nothing else."

"Ah, sire," exclaimed Champagny, sighing, "it will be easy for your majesty to fascinate the emperor. But my efforts with his old minister Romanzoff are likely to be utterly unavailing. I am not well versed in that art of which you are a master, and he is too old and shrewd to be fascinated by any one. He is not easily deluded, and his eyes are steadfastly fixed on Constantinople. It is his most fervent hope to be hailed in heaven by Peter the Great, after assisting Alexander in accomplishing the will of his illustrious ancestor."

"And yet we must succeed," exclaimed Napoleon, stamping on the floor. "I tell you, Champagny, I will and must succeed! No objections! I told you that I have made up my mind, and nothing can shake my determination. You will commence by encouraging Romanzoff in his hopes, and throw out only, now and then, a vague hint that there are countries, the annexation of which would be more important and advantageous to Russia. After having prepared his mind in this manner for our plan, you will gradually, and as soon as I have gained over the emperor, point out to him the conquest which Russia ought previously to make, and prove to him that Moldavia and Wallachia would be the very best territorial aggrandizement which he could desire."

"Your majesty intends, then, to permit the Emperor of Russia to annex Moldavia and Wallachia?" asked the minister.

"Yes. I must satisfy him with some compensation for Constantinople. And, it seems to me, the fertile provinces of the Danube, if I grant them to him immediately and unreservedly, are an acquisition which ought to content any ambition. I cannot do without the friendship of Alexander at this moment. Spain is in a state of insurrection, and, owing to Joseph's timidity, will not be soon reduced to submission. Austria is trying to get up a quarrel with us; she is secretly and perfidiously preparing for an attack, and is only waiting for fresh defeats of my army in Spain to declare war against me. Prussia, it is true, is not able to injure me, for I am keeping her under my heel; but if I were compelled to withdraw my foot for an instant, she would slip away and unite with my enemies. Nor do I trust my other allies in Germany. They are faithful and devoted only so long as they are afraid of me; they would forsake me as soon as they see my position endangered. They submitted reluctantly to my orders to furnish me with auxiliaries for my army in Spain. If I were to insist on another levy, all these petty princes of the Confederation of the Rhine would flatly refuse, provided there was a prospect of their succeeding in their opposition. I must keep them down by the terror with which I inspire them. I must prove to all those revolutionary elements fermenting in Germany—to insurgents, from the throne to the cottage—to all those miserable conspirators and demagogues—that I stand as firm as a rock, from which their fury will recoil. United with Russia, I will make all Europe tremble. The echoes of the festivities of Erfurt shall penetrate everywhere, from London to Constantinople; the whole world looks upon us and sees the Emperors of Russia and France side by side. Amid these enchantments I believe I shall succeed in persuading my friend Alexander to accept temporarily Moldavia and Wallachia as a sufficient indemnity for Constantinople. You know your duty now, Champagny; lay your mines skilfully, and you will succeed in blowing up the old granite fortress of Romanzoff."

"Sire, I assure you I will assist you to the best of my ability," said the minister. "Your majesty, however, will permit me to ask a question. The promise of the annexation of Moldavia and Wallachia is not to be a mere sham, and your majesty will really permit Russia to seize these two provinces?"

Napoleon smiled, and, violently pulling the minister's ear in his usual jocular way, said, "What a rash and indiscreet question! Of course, we shall promise the annexation. When it is to be fulfilled we must delay it as long as possible, and the rest will depend on events. In order that I may know exactly how far you have progressed with Romanzoff, you will write down your conversations with him every day, and also your plans, hopes, and fears; I desire to have every night a letter from you on the table at my bedside. Adieu!" He nodded pleasantly, and while Champagny withdrew, the emperor called in a loud voice for Constant, his valet de chambre.

"Did you send for Talma?" he asked Constant.

"Sire, Talma is waiting for your majesty's orders in the anteroom."

"Very well, let him come in. Have the horses brought to the door. All the marshals and my whole suite must be ready. We set out immediately to meet the Emperor Alexander, but I will previously put on my decoration of St. Andrew's order; then my toilet will be complete.—Talma!"

Constant hastened into the anteroom to inform Talma that the emperor wished to see him, and a moment afterward the great actor made his appearance. "Ah, you have arrived, then, Talma," exclaimed Napoleon, gayly, "and I hope you have brought with you the most select company of actors, the finest costumes, and the best pieces?"

"I have brought hither, sire, the actors and the theatre of the conqueror of the world," said Talma, "and that says every thing. The eyes of your majesty will be on us; that is all that is needed to inspire us."

"But you will also play before an audience such as perhaps will never again assemble," said Napoleon, smiling. "You will have it occupied by kings and sovereign princes."

"Sire," said Talma, bowing deeply, "where your majesty is, there is but one king and master."

"No; there is another king, and his name is Talma," exclaimed Napoleon, smiling. "These German princes may take a lesson from Talma as to the manner in which a king should bear himself in prosperity as well as in adversity. You will, therefore, perform Oedipus, Cinna, Mohammed, and Andromache, that kings may see how true monarchs ought to behave. I could have wished, however, that you had prepared not only the tragedies of Racine, Corneille, and Voltaire, but also some of the comedies of Moliere. You know how highly I esteem them. But the Germans would not understand them. We must show them the beauty and sublimity of our tragic theatre; they will appreciate it better than the profound wit of Moliere. Make it indispensable for the actors, and very particularly the actresses, to speak as distinctly and loudly as possible, that the Emperor Alexander, who is somewhat hard of hearing, may understand. You are the representatives of the honor of French literature; just say so to the artists in my name, and order the ladies especially to refrain from their wonted ogling and coquetry. Handsome Mademoiselle Bourgoin likes also to make conquests, not only on the stage, but among the spectators; and, while she is playing tragic amoureuses, she casts on the audience glances that are more suitable to a beauty of the Palais Royal than to a heroine, and which contrast strangely with the chaste characters she represents. Tell her that I desire her to abstain from such follies; she must not desecrate the buskin by the minauderies of a soubrette.[1] For the rest, I rely entirely on you, Talma. The eyes of Europe are fixed on Erfurt at this moment, and your immortality is sure."

[Foonote: Alexander fell in love with this actress at Erfurt. Napoleon tried to prevent Mademoiselle Bourgoin from continuing this liaison, but the actress was bold enough to defy the wrath of the emperor.]

"Sire, it was so on the day when, after the representation of Cinna, your majesty told me that you were satisfied with me."

"And perform Cinna to-night. I enjoy the pleasure already in anticipation. I ask another question. Did you bring the parts for Voltaire's 'Death of Caesar?'"

"For the 'Death of Caesar?'" asked Talma, in surprise. "Your majesty—"

"Ah, you want to tell me that the piece is prohibited in Paris," exclaimed Napoleon, smiling. "But Paris is a Vesuvius—what is inflammatory in France is perfectly harmless in phlegmatic Germany. Let the actors prepare for performing the 'Death of Caesar;' I will order it to be played in a few days. Tell them so.—Well, Constant, what is the matter?"

"Sire, your majesty desired to put on the large Russian decoration."

"Ah, it is true," said Napoleon; "come, put it on." And while Constant put the broad cordon with the diamond star over the emperor's shoulders, and arranged it on his breast, Napoleon turned once more to Talma. "You see," he said, "we monarchs pursue the same course you do. We put on different costumes according to the part we play. I wore a fez in Egypt, and to-day I put on the imperial star of Russia."

"But, sire, everywhere you play your part with masterly skill, and the world, which is your audience, applauds your majesty," exclaimed Talma.

"Oh, it would not be safe to hiss me," said Napoleon, putting on his gloves, and taking the riding-whip which Constant handed to him.

Accompanied by a brilliant suite, the emperor left Erfurt, and took the road to Weimar, whence the Emperor Alexander was to come. French troops lined the way, and behind them was a vast and motley crowd of peasants, who had come from all parts to witness the cavalcade. Napoleon did not hear the enthusiastic shouts of the soldiers, but he noticed the silence of the people, who stared at him with the curiosity with which they would have stared at any other unusual spectacle. He bent his head and rode on, absorbed in reflection; the bridle hung loose in his hand, but his white charger was accustomed to this carelessness, and galloped forward, proud of his melancholy rider.

Duroc rode up. "Sire," he said, "I believe that is the Emperor Alexander."

Napoleon quickly raised his head, and turned his keen eyes in the direction the grand marshal had pointed out. An open barouche, in which a single person sat, was approaching, accompanied by a few horsemen. Napoleon waited. The carriage drew nearer, and the person seated in it was recognized by his uniform and the grand cordon of the Legion of Honor.

"It is he—the Emperor Alexander!" exclaimed Napoleon, and rode forward at a gallop, followed by his marshals and generals. The carriage of the Russian emperor also moved more rapidly, and when both were near each other they suddenly halted. Napoleon dismounted; and Alexander, not waiting for the carriage door to be opened, jumped over it. The two monarchs rushed toward each other with open arms, and the soldiers made the welkin ring with "Long live Napoleon! Long live Alexander!"

Napoleon, disengaging himself from the arms of his friend, saluted the Grand-duke Constantine. A horse was brought to the Emperor Alexander, and as he was about to mount he looked in surprise at the splendid animal, as well as at its equipment. "Why," he said, "this looks exactly as though I were going to take a ride on my favorite charger in St. Petersburg. It is precisely of similar color and trappings."

"That proves that the drawings which Caulaincourt sent me were pretty correct," said Napoleon, smiling.

"Ah, then it is another attention of yours," exclaimed Alexander, affectionately pressing the hand of his friend. "Your majesty is bent on infatuating me. I feel perfectly at home on this horse."

"Ah, that is exactly what I wished," said Napoleon; "I sincerely desired that your majesty should feel at home while with me. Well, if it please you, let us ride to Erfurt."

"Very well," said Alexander, vaulting gracefully into the saddle, and offering his hand to Napoleon, on whose right he was riding. The emperors, chatting gayly, rode on to Erfurt. Behind them was the Grand-duke Constantine, between King Jerome of Westphalia, and Murat, Grand-duke of Berg. Then followed the suite of the marshals and generals, and the procession was closed by the carriage of old Romanzoff, Alexander's minister of state. Enthusiastic cheers resounded along the whole road, and now Napoleon, with a serene bow, saluted the multitude. Amid the peals of bells, the booming of cannon, and the cheers of the soldiers and the populace, the two emperors made their entry, halting in front of the hotel. Napoleon alighted first to welcome his guest, and conduct him to the rooms prepared for his reception.

Late on the same day Napoleon received a letter from his Minister Champagny. It contained only the following words: "Sire, I have held the first conference with Romanzoff. It will be very difficult to persuade this stubborn man that a piece of meat on the Danube is as good as the cat's tongue, for which the old gentleman is as clamorous as a hungry child for its dinner."

Napoleon took a pen and affixed the following words: "I have also held the first conference with the Emperor Alexander. There will be no change in my plans. Moldavia and Wallachia as an indemnity for the 'cat's tongue!' We must succeed!" He then folded and sealed the letter, which he immediately sent back to his minister.



CHAPTER XL.

THE CONSPIRATORS.

While the illumination, with which the good people of the French city had celebrated the arrival of the two emperors, was in full blaze on the principal thoroughfares, only a single dim light was to be seen in a small building situated on the corner of one of the more quiet streets. The other windows of this house were dark, and all was silent as though no living beings were dwelling in it. From time to time, a closely-veiled man appeared in the neighborhood, and, after glancing at the light in the upper window, uttered a strange cry. A second light was soon moving to and fro, and disappearing again. The man approached and knocked repeatedly at the door, which opened and admitted him. Twelve men had entered. The light was extinguished; the door bolted on the inside, and profound silence reigned in the building.

The French police had devoted their whole attention to the principal streets of the city, and to the vast crowds that followed the emperors, who, accompanied by kings and princes, proceeded to admire the illumination. There were no eyes for this small, dark house in an obscure alley—no ears to listen to what was going on within. The twelve men who had entered in so mysterious a manner, had assembled in a large back room. They had whispered the password into the ear of the door-keeper, and were at once admitted.

The windows of this room were covered with heavy black curtains, which prevented sound, as well as light, from penetrating to the outside. Thirteen candlesticks were fixed at equal distances in the plain white walls. The man who had entered first approached the first candlestick and lighted the two tapers. He who came next did the same with the next candlestick, and the others followed their example. At this moment the tapers on twelve candlesticks wore burning; and only the thirteenth, which contained six tapers, had not yet been lighted. Around the long table standing in the middle of the room, twelve grave and silent men were sitting on cane-chairs, the high backs of which were carved in a peculiar, old-fashioned style; these men were closely wrapped in black cloaks, the capes of which concealed their heads, and their faces were covered with black half-masks, which they had put on immediately after entering the house. At the upper end of the table stood a black easy-chair, which was alone unoccupied. The flashing eyes peering from the capes were directed to this chair; no word was spoken; a breath was almost audible in the motionless assembly. Suddenly a narrow, secret door opened in the opposite wall, and a tall man, dressed and veiled like the others, made his appearance.

The assembly remained as before, and seemed to take no notice of the new-comer. The latter quickly walked to the thirteenth candlestick, and lighted its tapers. The others immediately rose from their seats and bowed deeply. "The president!" they murmured. "We greet him who has called us—we greet the president!" He nodded, and then went to the upper end of the table. Before sitting down, he opened a little the black cloak enveloping his whole form, and the others beheld a heavy silver chain adorning his breast, and to which was fastened a locket, decorated with diamonds. In the middle of it a skull was to be seen, and under it the inscription of "Liberty or Death!" As soon as the rest beheld this, they also opened their cloaks. Each of them wore a similar chain, locket, and inscription.

"Resume your seats, brethren," said the president, sitting down in the easy-chair. He then said in a loud, solemn voice, "The hour has come for us to act. Germany has called us, and, as obedient sons, we come! Germany, our beloved mother, is here in our midst, although we do not see her. She stands with veiled head and tearful eyes before her children, and asks us to give her an account of what we have done and accomplished. Brethren, are we ready?"

"We are!" all exclaimed, simultaneously.

"When we parted three months ago, my brethren," added the president, "we resolved to meet here to-day. I see that all have remained faithful to their oath. Not one is absent. No taper is unlit—the seats are occupied. Germania, that knows who are hers, and how to call them by their names, although they veil their heads,—Germania thanks you for your fidelity. She awaits our report. Let us speak! He who arrived first will commence."

One at the lower end of the table rose and bowed respectfully. "I arrived first," he said.

"You have the floor, then, my brother," said the president.

"Make your report. Where have you been? What connections did you establish? What hopes do you bring?"

"I was in Northern Germany," he replied; "for that was the order which I drew from the urn when we met here three months ago. In the envelope which I received, I found a paper containing the words: 'Ferdinand von Schill at Kolberg.' The first lines of a song were affixed to this address. I repaired immediately to Kolberg, and found Major von Schill engaged in equipping and drilling the second regiment of Brandenburg hussars, of which the king has appointed him commander. The regiment consists of the four brave companies of cavalry with which Lieutenant von Schill undertook his bold and successful raids."

"And did you deliver your credentials to the major, my brother?"

"I did. He received me with a joyful salutation, and sends his greeting and fraternal kiss to the 'patriots.' He said to me: 'We pursue with zeal and courage the purpose which we have sworn to accomplish. Go to the brethren—tell them that they may count on me and my men, and on the people, who are gradually being inspired with the true spirit, and who will rise when the alarm is sounded. When the time comes, the whole of Germany will rise to a man, break her chains, and expel the tyrant. Let us prepare for this hour, in the North and South, in the East and West, that the whole country may be armed at the first battle-cry of freedom! Let us work and toil, keeping each other well informed of our progress. We must all act on one and the same day!'"

"Did you hear the words and greetings of brave Schill, brethren?" asked the president.

"We heard, and engraved them on our heart."

"It is now the turn of the brother who arrived next," said the president. "Make your report."

"Soul-stirring hopes! and I wish you joy of our prospects," said he who had now risen. "At our last meeting I drew from the urn the order to go to Berlin and Koenigsberg. I was there! Oh, brethren, the days of freedom are near! In Berlin, I was introduced by one of our friends to a circle of patriots, who, like us, have formed a secret society for the purpose of promoting the welfare of the fatherland, and of ushering in the day of freedom. Those patriots are in communication with men sharing their sentiments throughout the whole of Northern Germany; committees are organized everywhere to instruct the people, to disseminate patriotic views, and to gain adherents to the great league of the defenders of the fatherland. Secret depots of arms are being established in every city. The central committee, sitting in Berlin, have taken upon themselves the task of watching the French troops, their numbers, location, and strength; of ascertaining the disposition of the people in the provinces, and of transmitting the results of their observations to the branches of their league, as well as to the other patriotic societies. Henceforth we shall also receive those reports, if one of our brethren will call for them in Berlin.

"Thence, well provided with recommendations by the committee, I repaired to Koenigsberg. From what I saw there I derived much consolation and hope for the future of the country. The spirit of freedom is fermenting, and high-minded men have erected at Koenigsberg an altar on which they intend to kindle the sacred fire, that it may melt our chains. The name of this altar is the 'Tugendbund.'[39] Noble and illustrious men are at the head of this league; a prince is its president; Stein, the great minister, is its protector; brave General Bluecher, Gneisenau, the distinguished officer—in short, the most eminent and popular men of Prussia are members. King Frederick William has approved its by-laws; Queen Louisa is enthusiastically in favor of its patriotic efforts. It does not intend to enter upon a violent struggle, but will prepare the people by its words and example for better days. It intends to increase the moral energy of the nation, that it may also rise in its physical strength, and be able to cope with the invaders. This league, my brethren, purposes to propagate patriotism, courage, attachment to the sovereign and the constitution, love of virtue, art, science, and literature. It intends to cultivate the minds and hearts of the people, that they may shrink from no sacrifice for the welfare of the country. My brethren, the 'Tugendbund' is the head and heart of us all; we shall one day be its arm and sword, and translate its teachings into heroic deeds. It sends its greetings to the brethren, admonishing us never to cease working and toiling, and to maintain a close connection with it, as well as with all our friends, until the great day of deliverance dawns upon us. But I do not bring greetings from that league alone. I have seen also the 'Knights of Louisa,'[40] and received their fraternal kiss. Brave Major von Nostitz, formerly an intimate friend and adjutant of Prince Louis Ferdinand, is their president, and the noble queen has permitted them the use of her name as a token of her sympathy. As a further expression of her approval, she has presented the president with a silver chain, and all the members of the order wear, as their regalia, a silver chain and a locket with the queen's portrait. The 'Tugendbund' and the 'Knights of Louisa' send greetings to the brethren, and will unite with them in struggling for the same holy cause. They await our messengers, and will inform us of every thing that is done by them, as well as receive information from us concerning our own efforts."

[Footnote 39: The celebrated "League of Virtue."] [Footnote 40: Die Louisenritter.]

"Your report is highly gratifying," said the president, after a pause. "Deliverance will soon come, and true Germans will be prepared for it. We will now listen to the third brother."

"I was in Westphalia, and bring cheering tidings to the patriotic brethren," said the third brother. "The chains are still clanking in unfortunate Westphalia, but the men are as undaunted as ever. Noble Chevalier von Doernberg sends his greeting. He admonishes us to toil, and to be prepared. We shall have ready our swords and our strong arms. Thousands of noble and faithful Hessians belong to this league. The honest minds of the people cannot see what right the Corsican emperor had to expel their legitimate ruler, and to place an Italian clown on his throne. Intense indignation at the foreign yoke is prevailing throughout Hessia and Westphalia, and every patriot rallies around Doernberg waiting for the signal to expel the oppressor. United with us, Doernberg sends his messengers and receives ours."

"Let the fourth brother make his report," said the president.

"I come from Bavaria, and bring greetings from the society of 'Concordists,' founded by Chevalier von Lang. This society is straining every nerve to bring about the liberation of the country; it is, like our league, preparing the people for their freedom. It is ready to enter into relationship with us."

"And what brings the fifth of the brethren?"

"I bring fraternal kisses from the Rhine, where Jahn, the bold German, is organizing the legion of the 'Black Knights.' I bring also greetings from the chivalrous Duke of Brunswick. The 'Corps of Vengeance,' with skulls on their black helmets, are rallying around the prince, who, with fiery zeal, is preparing for the day when he will avenge the despair and death of his father. The 'Black Knights' and the 'Corps of Vengeance' send us greetings, and are ready to toil with us for the deliverance of our country, and the overthrow of the tyrant."

The president requested the sixth brother to take the floor, and he too stated that he had established connections with leagues having the same common object. The other six made similar statements. Everywhere in Germany they had found patriots, the same hatred of a foreign yoke, and the most ardent longing for freedom.

When the twelfth brother had concluded his report, the president arose. "Brethren," he said, encouragingly, "our night begins to brighten—the day is breaking. Let us, therefore, be vigilant, active, and undaunted. Gather around you the circles of the faithful; initiate and arm them; teach them to be ready for the battle-cry, that they may rise and fight, all for one, and one for all. Set out again on your travels; establish new societies, and join, in a genuine spirit of brotherly love, such as are already in operation. Work for the honor and liberty of Germany. Thousands already belong to us, and you will still enlist thousands more; that, when the trumpet sounds, the brethren may reenforce the army of German liberty, not with a battalion, but with legions of warriors. We have come hither to-day from all parts of Germany; we know not each other's names, nor have we ever seen each other's faces; yet no one has proved recreant. Go, then, again into the world, and pursue your sacred mission. Three months hence we will again meet at this house at the same hour, and confer as to what ought to be done. Bring the urn, and draw your duties for the next three months."

The man who had last arrived rose and walked to the opposite wall, at which the president pointed, as he said, "Press the golden button which you see fixed in the wall."

The conspirator obeyed, and immediately a small door opened, revealing a black urn, which he handed to the president, who said, "Come hither, brethren, and draw your lots."

The twelve men rose successively and stepped to the urn, from which each drew a small folded paper, and, approaching the light, immediately learned his mission by opening the lot; as soon as he had read its contents, he burned it, extinguished his tapers, and withdrew, without word, glance, or gesture. Nine had already left. Only four candlesticks remained lighted—three of the conspirators, besides the president, were still in the room. Each of these three men stood near the burning tapers, and looked in grave silence at the open paper in his hand.

"Why are you here still, brethren?" asked the president.

"My order says that I am to remain here," answered the man to whom the president addressed himself.

"My order says the same," exclaimed the second brother.

"Mine is the same," said the third.

"Come hither and listen to me, brethren," commanded the president. "What is the motto of our league?"

"'Liberty or death!'" exclaimed the three men, simultaneously. "Our fortunes, our lives, our blood, for Germany! If need be, death for the attainment of liberty, whether it be on the field of battle, in a dungeon, or on the scaffold!"

"Or on the scaffold!" echoed the president. "Do you remember, brethren, that, when we met for the first time, I told you Germany might stand in need of a Mutius Scaevola, and require him to assassinate Porsenna? Do you remember that we all swore, if the day should come to imitate that ancient patriot?"

"We do."

"That day has come," said the president, solemnly. "Germany requires a Mutius Scaevola, to kill Porsenna, and, if he should miss him, to suffer as stoically as the Roman youth. Enough German blood has been shed. Thousands of our brethren would still have to die, if we meet the tyrant in open combat. We must do this, if we cannot get rid of him in any other way. But before resorting to it, before permitting Germany to be again devastated by revolution and war, we will try another way, the course pursued by the Roman. When the tyrant is dead, Germany will be free and happy, and the exultation of his countrymen will console the conscience of him whom the world will call an assassin."

"That is true," said the three conspirators.

"Yes," responded the president. "There are four of us here. Two shall avenge Germany. It is necessary that two should undertake the task, for if one should be unsuccessful, the other may not."

"But there are only three of us here," said one of the disguised men.

"No," replied the president, "there are four; I am the fourth. You must not prevent me from participating in a deed requiring intrepid courage, and which cannot but involve incalculable dangers. I insist on taking part in it."

"But the league stands in need of your services. What would become of us if you should draw the lot, and, in carrying out the plan, fail and be arrested?"

"In that case, brethren, you will announce on the day of the next meeting, when the chair remains unoccupied, that the president has died in the cause, and you will elect another chief. But, a truce to further objections! Let us draw lots. Here are two white and two black balls which I put into the urn. Those who draw the black balls will leave together, and jointly concert a plan for the death of the tyrant. The blow must be struck in the course of a week, while he is still in this city."

"It must be," echoed the three, in solemn tones.

"But let us swear not to attempt any life but his—that no innocent blood be shed—that the dagger or the pistol be aimed at him alone. Let us swear not to undertake any thing that might endanger others!"

"We do so swear, for to destroy any but the tyrant would be murder. Now let us extinguish all the lights save one, and simultaneously draw a ball from the urn."

"Lift up your hands and let us see the balls!" said the president. There was a white ball in his own hand. "It was not God's will. He did not choose me," he said, with a sigh.

"He has chosen us," said the two who held black balls. They grasped each other's hands, and their eyes seemed to read each other's thoughts. He who had drawn the other white ball inclined his head and left the room.

"We go together; our ways do not separate," said the two who had drawn the black balls, and walked arm in arm toward the door.

The president gazed after them until they had disappeared. Extinguishing the last taper, he groped cautiously along until he reached the door, and stepping out into a corridor, hastened across it to the landing of a staircase, at the foot of which a small dim lamp was burning. Before descending, he took off the mask that had covered his face, and the cloak in which he had been wrapped, and, rolling them into a bundle, he concealed it in a drawer fixed under the first step of the staircase, and which was visible only to initiated eyes. In the flickering light of the lamp the beholder might have discerned his tall, slender form, and youthful countenance, whose manly expression contrasted with his long golden hair. He hastened down-stairs, and crossed the hall into the street. The noise had ceased, and nearly all the lights had burnt out. As he turned a corner rapidly, he was attracted by a transparency. The inscription, in large letters on a crimson ground, read: "Gaeb's jetzt noch einen Goettersohn, so waere es Napoleon!"[41]

[Footnote 41: "If there were now a son of the gods, he would be Napoleon."]

A flash of anger burst from the youth's eyes, and he raised his clinched fist menacingly. "You miserable dogs," he said, in a low voice, "when the true Germans come, you will hide yourselves in the dust!" He walked rapidly until he reached a small house at the lower end of the street, and softly entering, glided across the hall, cautiously ascended the staircase, halted in front of a door up-stairs, and gently rapped. It opened immediately, and a young woman of surpassing beauty appeared on the threshold. "Oh, Frederick, is it really you?" she whispered, embracing him. "You are mine again, beloved Frederick! You did not draw the fatal lot! Heaven refused the sacrifice which you were ready to make."

"It is so, Anna," said the young man. "But why do you weep, dearest? You were formerly so courageous, and approved my determination to engage in that desperate enterprise!"

She clasped her hands, lifting her large black eyes to heaven. "Abraham was ready to sacrifice his son," she said, "but when his offering was not accepted, he was thankful. Thus I also thank and praise God at this moment!"

"Yes," said the young man, gloomily, "He rejected my offering, and for the present I am free. I come to take leave of you, beloved Anna; I must depart this very night."

"You are going to leave me!" she exclaimed in dismay. "Ah, you have deceived me, then—you have drawn the fatal lot! You come to bid me farewell, because you are to perpetrate the terrible deed!"

"No, Anna. I swear to you by our love I am free! I did not draw the lot. But I must go to Leipsic. My mission here has been accomplished, and I must be about my business. The president of the patriotic brethren must descend from his exalted position, and once more become a poor insignificant merchant. But I know, and predict it, Anna, there will be a day when Germany will choose me to deliver her from the tyrant. A presentiment tells me that the two who have drawn the black balls to-day will not succeed. Their hands trembled when they held up the balls, and I saw that they started when they perceived them to be black. Yes, they will fail; but I shall not! It is reserved for me; a shout of joy will resound throughout the country, and the people will exclaim, 'We are delivered from the tyrant; Germany is free, and the name of our deliverer is Frederick Staps!'"



CHAPTER XLI.

THE FESTIVITIES OF ERFURT AND WEIMAR.

Festivities were succeeded by festivities, amusements by amusements, and these days of Erfurt glided by in friendship, pleasure, and love. Napoleon was the host. It was he who received the Emperor of Russia, the kings, the dukes, and the princes, with their legions of courtiers and cavaliers, and treated all the members of these different petty courts with imperial munificence. In return there were universal manifestations of homage and devotion. The kings and princes every morning attended his levee. He arranged the entertainments that were to take place, and designated those who were to participate in them. All bowed to him, even the Emperor Alexander himself. The most cordial feeling prevailed between the two emperors. They were always seen arm in arm, like two loving youths, jealous of every minute that separated them. At the dinner-table, at the theatre, at the balls and concerts, they always came together into the proud society that awaited them. At dinner, Napoleon, playing the polite and obliging host, always had Alexander placed at his right. At the theatre, directly behind the orchestra, were two gilded easy-chairs on a small platform, and the two emperors were enthroned on them near each other; on the floor behind this stood four small arm-chairs, occupied by the Kings of Bavaria, Wuertemberg, Saxony, and Westphalia; and in the rear, on common chairs, sat the dukes, princes, counts, and the large array of cavaliers and courtiers. The queens and princesses were seated in the proscenium-boxes on both sides of the stage, and the ladies of the haute-volee in their rich toilets and wealth of jewelry filled the first tier.

Napoleon kept the promise he had made to Talma: that celebrated actor played before a pit of kings, and it was, perhaps, this fact, or the expectant face of Napoleon, whose eyes were on him, or the presence of Alexander, who was never weary of praising him—it was probably all this that enkindled the actor's enthusiasm. Never before had Talma played more effectively—never before had he assumed such a dignity for enthroned greatness, or better studied its bearing in adversity. His expression of hatred, love, and grief, in his impersonations, were never more famous than in these gala-days of Erfurt. A sort of inspiration pervaded the great artist, and his enthusiasm infected the spectators, especially Alexander, who was carried away by Talma's passion in the representation of "Oedipus." When the actor exclaimed, "The friendship of a great man is a boon of the gods!" the Russian emperor bent over Napoleon, and seizing his hand pressed it against his breast. A murmur of applause was heard; all appeared astonished at this public demonstration; even Oedipus on the stage seemed to be impressed, and his voice trembled. Napoleon alone remained grave and calm, not a feature changed or betrayed the satisfaction that his heart could not but feel at this moment; he thanked Alexander only by a glance, and his attention seemed to be again directed to the stage.

Late at night Napoleon found, as usual, a letter from his minister Champagny. "Old Romanzoff insists on the prompt fulfilment of the promises of Tilsit," wrote the minister. "Constantinople—nothing but Constantinople—seems to the stubborn Russian an equivalent for Spain. I believe the peremptory orders only of his master will subdue this obstinacy."

"Ah," murmured Napoleon, crumpling the paper in his hand, "I must put a stop to this. We must arrive at a definite result. I shall utter the decisive word to-morrow!"

On the following morning the kings and princes appeared in vain in the anteroom of the Emperor Napoleon to attend his levee. He had risen at an unusually early hour, and, allured by the sunny autumnal morning, visited his friend Alexander, who had just risen when Napoleon, unannounced, entered with a smiling face.

"Ah," exclaimed Alexander, rushing toward him with a cry of exultation, and embracing him affectionately, "sire, I dreamed of you all night; you were here at my side, while I was sleeping, and all seemed bright, but when I opened my eyes and did not see you, the room appeared dark, although the sun was shining. But now you are here, and my dreams are realized."

Napoleon's face suddenly turned gloomy, and the smile disappeared from his lips. "I also had a dream," he said, gravely. "It seemed to me as though I lay on a bed of flowers, and two stars were twinkling above me, and as they came nearer I saw that they were not stars, but bright eyes beaming in a manly face, and looking at me with tenderness. I was fascinated. I raised myself as if borne on angel-wings, and stretched out my arms toward the approaching form. Suddenly I uttered a scream; the friend had been changed into a wolf that rushed toward me, and fixing his eyes on mine, tore my breast and fed upon my heart. Oh, I was in horrible pain—not imaginary but real—for I screamed so loudly that Constant, my valet de chambre, hastened from the adjoining room and awakened me. Even now that I think of it I tremble, and sadness fills my soul." He bent his head on his breast, and, folding his hands behind him, paced the room slowly.

Alexander looked smilingly at him, but approaching, said: "Sire, why this melancholy? In truth, when looking at you, one might think, my august friend, that you believed in dreams."

"I do," exclaimed Napoleon, quickly raising his head. "Dreams are revelations from on high! Had Julius Caesar believed in his dreams, and in the prophecies of the astrologers, he would not have fallen by the daggers of assassins."

"But how will your majesty interpret the dream that tormented you last night?" asked Alexander.

Napoleon bent a strange look on his frank countenance. "Alexander," he said, in a low voice, "could you ever transform yourself into a wolf, and tear out my heart?"

"I, Napoleon, I?" ejaculated Alexander, starting back in dismay. "Your majesty, then, does not believe in my friendship, in the profound admiration for you that fills my soul? All I have said and done has then been in vain! Instead of having won your esteem, your majesty distrusts me, and believes the follies of the imagination in sleep rather than the protestations of reason, interest, and friendship!"

"No, no," said Napoleon, affectionately, and almost touched by the profound grief depicted in Alexander's countenance, "I believe that your majesty returns a little the love I feel for you. I believe in your noble heart, in spite of all dreams."

"And I swear to your majesty that you may believe in me," exclaimed Alexander. "My whole policy, the new course upon which I have entered, will prove to you, more convincingly than words, sire, that I am most anxious to establish a firm alliance between Russia and France; oh, believe me, sire, I gladly acknowledge you as my superior; all promptings of jealousy are extinct in my heart; and when, in the face of the enormous territorial aggrandizements of Franco, I desire an enlargement of Russia, too, I do so not for my sake, but in order to satisfy my people, that they may bear more patiently your operations in Spain. For my part, I approve all you have done in that country. King Charles and his son Ferdinand have abundantly deserved their present fate by their incapacity and baseness, and I do not pity them. But one must comprehend the system of the great Napoleon as clearly and thoroughly as I do, to be able to pass over the great catastrophes which your majesty has caused the world to witness. My people, and, above all, my nobility, have not yet progressed so far as that, and hence the attention of the Russians should be turned to important changes in the Orient that they may look more indifferently at what you are undertaking in the Occident. As for myself, I am your most faithful friend, and I have proved it to your majesty by becoming the enemy of your enemies. In accordance with your wishes, I have declared war against England, and shall probably soon have to do the same against Austria, for I shall require her in the most energetic manner to explain why she is secretly arming; and, if her explanations should not be satisfactory, draw the sword against her. Then, I suppose, your majesty will believe in my friendship?"

"Oh, I believe in it now," exclaimed Napoleon, pressing the proffered hand of Alexander. "For this friendship is my hope. United, we shall be able to carry out the grand schemes which we formed at Tilsit. Striding across the world, we shall lay it at our feet, and one day there will be only two thrones; but in the beginning we must proceed carefully. It took the Creator six days to make the world, and each day, most likely, comprehended a vast number of our years. We shall create our world in six years, and then we shall look at it, and pronounce it 'very good.' But caution is indispensable, for our empires labor under many burdens. You are waging war in Finland, and I am doing so in Spain. Prudence advises us not to increase these embarrassments by seeking at this moment for Russia an aggrandizement which would fill the world with astonishment, and reecho like a war-cry throughout Europe. Let the dissolution of Turkey and her annexation to Russia be the keystone of our creation, the last work of the sixth day. Let us erect the new empires on solid foundations, which all the storms of this world may not shake!"

"When Constantinople is mine, I shall not be afraid," exclaimed Alexander, ardently.

"Constantinople belongs to the sixth day of creation," said Napoleon, "but we are only at the second. Tilsit was the first, Erfurt is the second."

"And on the second day you take from me what you promised on the first?" asked Alexander, whose brow was losing its serenity.

"No, I only want to secure it to you," said Napoleon—"to give a firm base to the edifice of our future. If your majesty should take possession of Turkey to-day, one-half of Europe would arm to-morrow to take it from you, and at this moment Russia is unable to brave so many enemies. Austria would rise against you, for, whatever offers you might make, she would prefer war to a partition of Turkey. England would see her commerce endangered, and enter into the contest from calculations of self-interest. Besides, Turkey herself would wage war with the fanaticism of her menaced nationality. Where are the armies which your majesty could oppose to the united forces of England, Austria, and Turkey? It is true, you have an army on the Danube, sufficiently strong to oppose Turkey, but too weak if the whole nation should rise. Your principal army is in Finland, and you have no troops to war against Austria. I alone, therefore—for, as a matter of course, I shall remain your faithful ally—I should have to struggle with Austria, England, Spain, and, perhaps, with the whole of Germany. To be sure, I might do so, for I have sufficient power to cope with all my enemies. But would it be wise to enter at once into enterprises so vast? And what for? To pursue a chimerical project which, how grand so ever it may be, is not attainable at this time."

"Alas!" sighed Alexander, "I see that your majesty is right, and that mountain difficulties rise between me and my cherished project! I shall have to return empty-handed to my ancestors, and when Peter the Great asks me, 'What have you done to fulfil my will? Where are the provinces that you have added to my empire?' I must hang my head in confusion and say that—"

"No," exclaimed Napoleon, in a loud and solemn voice; "you will proudly raise your head and reply: 'Look at Russia! I have made her great at home and abroad. I have given to my people civilization and culture, and added to my empire new provinces which promote its greatness and power more substantially than Constantinople itself would have done. The possession of that city is a dream. I have annexed to my country real provinces.' That is what you will reply to your great ancestor, sire, provided you go to him before having arrived at your sixth day of creation."

Alexander was speechless for a moment, as if fascinated by Napoleon's countenance, beaming with energy and determination.

"What provinces does your majesty allude to?" he asked, dreamily.

"They lie at the feet of Russia, and seem only to wait for your majesty to pick them up. Moldavia and Wallachia you will present as new crown jewels to your empire. They are substantial realities in place of visionary wishes; solid possessions far more important than Constantinople."

"That is true," exclaimed Alexander. "I have myself thought so for a long time, but I dare not avow it, because I was afraid your majesty would not agree with me."

"France knows no envy," said the emperor, "and Napoleon loves his friend Alexander; he will gladly grant to him what he desires, and what is attainable. Take Moldavia and Wallachia, sire!"

"You grant them to me," exclaimed Alexander, "and it is no empty promise, but a definite and immutable agreement?"

"I say, sire, take them at once, and woe to those who would dare touch your new possessions!"

"I thank you, sire," Alexander said. "You have given me a proof of your friendship to-day, and old Romanzoff will have to acknowledge that he is wrong in thinking that you only intended to amuse us with idle promises. Ah, he is a hard head, and I believe your Minister Champagny cannot get along with him very well."

"That is so," exclaimed Napoleon, laughing, and Alexander joined heartily in his mirth.

"He will now demand guaranties," said Alexander, still laughing. "He is so distrustful that he believes in no words, though from heaven. My old Romanzoff believes only in black and white."

"We will so guarantee Moldavia to him," said Napoleon.

"Oh, not for my sake," exclaimed Alexander, carelessly. "Your majesty's word is amply sufficient for me; let Romanzoff and Champagny quarrel about the formalities."

"I will come to the assistance of poor Champagny," said Napoleon, "if your majesty, in return, will be kind enough to make stubborn Romanzoff somewhat more tractable. You have already occupied these provinces; it will, therefore, be easy for you to annex them. France will give her consent by a formal treaty, and not only engage to recognize this annexation so far as she herself is concerned, but also to compel Turkey, Austria, and England, to acknowledge it. Your majesty, therefore, will break the armistice with Turkey, and advance your army to the foot of the Balkan, then to Adrianople, and, if need be, to Constantinople, in order to wrest these territories from the Porte. In case Austria should intervene, we shall both declare war against her. As for England, we are already at war with her. It will only be necessary for me to give her a bloody defeat in Spain to render her insensible to any enterprises we may enter into on the continent. All this we stipulate not only verbally, but in writing. Will that satisfy your majesty?"

"Me? I am satisfied with your majesty's word," exclaimed Alexander.

"Well, then," said Napoleon, with a smile, "the question is: Will your minister be satisfied?"

"Of course, he will; and, moreover, I shall command him to raise no further objections. Let Champagny and Romanzoff draw up the treaty; it will then be merely necessary for us to sign it, and the whole matter is settled. Our friendship will have been rendered more intimate and lasting by new bonds, which nothing in the world will be able to break."

"As to our other plans," said Napoleon, "we shall never lose sight of them. Every day we draw nearer to their fulfilment. There is yet a vast future before us in which to accomplish our purposes with regard to the Orient, and to remodel its political affairs. Romanzoff is aged, and hence, impatient to enjoy what he desires. But you are young: you can wait."

"Romanzoff is a Russian of the old school," said Alexander, smiling. "He has passions and inclinations from which I am free. I attach a higher value to civilizing than enlarging my empire. Hence, I desire the provinces of the Danube more for my nation than for myself. I shall be able to wait patiently until our plans can be carried into effect. But you, my noble friend, you ought to enjoy in tranquillity the great things which you have accomplished, and no longer expose yourself to the danger of war. Have you not obtained glory and power enough? Alexander and Caesar gained no more laurels than you! Be happy, and let us leave the execution of our projects to the future."

"Yes, let us do so," replied Napoleon. "I am also longing for repose. I am tired of conquest; it has charms for me no longer, and battle-fields seem to me what they are—the graveyards of brave men prematurely taken from their country and their families. No more war! Peace with the whole world, made more desirable by the friendship of Alexander!" He offered his hand with that smile which no one could withstand. "Oh!" he continued, "I am so happy at having at length arrived at an understanding with you, and strengthened our alliance, that I wish your majesty had some desire that I might grant, and which it would be difficult for me to fulfil. Is there nothing at all that you could demand of me?"

"Yes, sire, there is," responded Alexander, "and I have both a wish and a prayer to address your majesty. Sire, my ally, the poor King of Prussia, and his noble consort, are still living in exile. I saw them, with your consent, on passing through Koenigsberg, and confess that I promised to intercede for them, and procure an alleviation of their unfortunate condition."

"An alleviation of their unfortunate condition!" exclaimed Napoleon, frowning. "Do they not owe their present fate entirely to themselves? Why do they not pay punctually the contributions which I have imposed upon them?"

"Sire, because they cannot! Prussia, exhausted, and reduced to one-half of her former territory, is unable to pay war contributions amounting to one hundred and fifty millions of dollars, in the short space of two years, and to feed, besides, a French army of forty thousand men. Your majesty ought to be magnanimous, and restore at least a semblance of independence to my poor ally, by putting an end to the occupation."

"If I do so, Prussia would think no longer of fulfilling her obligations to me," exclaimed Napoleon. "Instead of paying the war contributions, she would be foolish enough to rise in open hostility against me. Queen Louisa hates me; she will never cease to intrigue against me, and to instigate her husband to pursue a course hostile to me. She surrounds herself and her husband by men who share her sentiments, and are plotting to revolutionize Prussia—nay, all Germany. There is, for instance, a certain Baron von Stein, whom the king appointed minister at the request of the queen, and who is nothing but a tool in the hands of this intriguing woman. That Stein is a bad and dangerous man; he is at the head of secret societies, and I shall immediately take steps to render him harmless. He and the queen alone make Prussia oppose me, and refuse paying the stipulated contributions."

"Sire," said Alexander, almost imploringly, "I repeat to your majesty, Prussia is unable to pay the enormous amount which has even been increased after the conclusion of the treaty of Tilsit, and, moreover, in the short space of two years. Oh, your majesty, the fate of the royal family of Prussia is truly pitiable and weighs down my soul with remorse. Do for my sake what you are unwilling to do for the sake of Prussia. Let me not return without consolation to that mourning royal family. Let me enjoy the triumph of proving to them that my words and intercession were able to obtain from your majesty what neither the queen's letter, nor all the solicitations of Prince William, and of the Prussian diplomatists, had been able to accomplish! Oh, sire, you see I am vain, and would like to demonstrate your friendship for me."

Napoleon's countenance grew milder while Alexander was impressively uttering these words. "Sire," he said, "who could withstand your grace and magnanimity? I wished a few minutes ago to be allowed to grant you some request, difficult for me to fulfil, in order to give you a proof of my regard! Well, your majesty has really asked something very difficult for me to grant. But I will comply for your sake, sire! I will deduct twenty millions from the sum to be paid by Prussia, extend the time in which the contributions are to be paid from two to three years, and withdraw my troops and officials in the course of six months. Is your majesty satisfied with this, and will you regard it as a proof of my friendship?"

"It is a proof of your friendship and generosity, and I thank your majesty," exclaimed Alexander. "Oh, how happy I shall be when on my return I announce these glad tidings to the royal couple! Ah, my poor allies have suffered a great deal, and if your majesty does not object, I should like to invite King Frederick William and his consort, next winter, to spend a few weeks at St. Petersburg. Does your majesty approve?"

Napoleon cast a quick and searching glance at Alexander. "I do not assume to decide whom your majesty should hospitably receive," he said, "and I confide in your friendship—you are henceforth my ally. Get the King of Prussia to join this alliance, as the latter induced you to join the alliance against me; that would indeed greatly promote the welfare of Frederick William, and put an end to the intrigues of his queen. But now, sire, a truce to politics and business! We are agreed and shall be united in peace as in war. Our business is accomplished, and the days we still spend here must be exclusively devoted to pleasure and friendly intercourse. The Duke of Weimar would like to receive us for a few days at his capital, to arrange a chase and a ball. Suppose we go thither this afternoon and spend two days? Would it be agreeable to you?"

"I would accompany your majesty anywhere, were it into Orcus," exclaimed Alexander. "Let us go to Weimar!"

"And if you please, sire, to Jena also. I should like to show the battle-field to your majesty."

"And I should like to learn from your majesty how to win such laurels. I follow you as a pupil."



CHAPTER XLII.

NAPOLEON AND GOETHE.

On his return from the early visit he had paid to the Emperor of Russia, Napoleon immediately went to his cabinet and sent for Minister Champagny, whom he met with unusual animation; and now, that he deemed it no longer necessary to mask his countenance, it was beaming with joy. "Champagny," he said, "it will be no longer necessary for you to send letters to me. The emperor Alexander has accepted my offers, and Romanzoff will have to hang up his 'cat's tongue' in the smoke-house. For the present the appetite of the Russian Emperor for new territories has been satisfied with the provinces of the Danube, and he will compel his minister to yield. The stubborn old fellow will have to give way, but, we are obliged to give him our promises in black and white. I go this afternoon with the emperor to Weimar to spend a few days. You may in the mean time carry on the negotiations with Romanzoff and draw up the treaty. I shall send you further instructions to-night."

"And will not your majesty be kind enough to give me also instructions as to the course I am to pursue toward the Austrian ambassador, Count Vincent?" said the minister. "He overwhelms me every day with questions and demands. He is very anxious to obtain an interview with your majesty, to learn from your own lips that Austria has nothing to fear from France, and that your majesty believes in the sincerity of the friendship and devotedness of his master."

"I believe in the sincerity of Austria!" exclaimed Napoleon, frowning. "I know her perfidy; I know that she is secretly arming to attack me as soon as she believes me to be embarrassed by the events in Spain. But I will unmask these hypocrites, and meet them with open visor. I will wage war against them, because they disdain to remain at peace with me. Now that I am sure of Russia, I am no longer afraid of Austria, for Russia will assist me in the war against her, or at least not prevent me from attacking and punishing her for her insolence. It was in my power to overthrow that monarchy as I have overthrown those of Naples and Spain. I refrained, and Austria is indebted to me for her existence. Now, however, I am inexorable, and when I once more make my entry into Vienna, it will be as dictator prescribing laws to the vanquished. Austria is arming, and France will arm for another Austerlitz. I authorize you to repeat these words to Count Vincent. I myself will write to his emperor and intrust my letter to the ambassador. Tell him so." He dismissed the minister and repaired to the dining-room.

Breakfast was ready, and had been served on a round table in the middle of the room. Talleyrand, Berthier, Savary, and Daru, received the emperor, and accompanied him to the table, not to participate in the repast, but to converse with him, as Napoleon liked to do while he was eating, and to reply to the questions which he addressed now to one, now to another.

"Well, Daru," he asked, taking his seat, "you come from Berlin? What about the payment of the contributions?"

"Ah, sire, the prospects are very discouraging," said Daru, shrugging his shoulders. "More rigorous measures will probably become necessary to coerce those stubborn Prussians, and—"

The door opened, and Constant, the valet de chambre, entered, whispering a few words to Marshal Berthier.

The marshal approached the emperor, who was engaged with the wing of a chicken. "Sire," he said, "your majesty ordered M. von Goethe to appear before you at this hour. He is in the anteroom."

"Ah, M. von Goethe, the great German poet, the author of the 'Sorrows of Werther,'" exclaimed Napoleon. "Let him come in immediately." A moment later Constant announced M. von Goethe. Napoleon was still sitting at the table; Talleyrand was standing at his right; Darn, Savary, and Berthier, at his left. The eyes of all turned toward the door, where appeared a gentleman of high, dignified bearing. He was tall and vigorous, like a German oak; the head of a Jupiter surmounted his broad shoulders and chest. Time, with its wrinkling hand, had tried in vain to deform the imperishable beauty of that countenance; age could not touch the charm and dignity of his features; the grace of youth still played on his classic lips, and the ardor of a young heart was beaming from his dark eyes as they looked calmly at the emperor.

Napoleon, continuing to eat, beckoned Goethe, with a careless wave of his hand, to approach. He complied, and stood in front of the table, opposite the emperor, who looked up, and, turning with an expression of surprise to Talleyrand, pointed to Goethe, and exclaimed, "Ah, that is a man!"[42] An imperceptible smile overspread the poet's countenance, and he bowed in silence.

[Footnote 42: "Voila un homme!" These words created a great sensation at the time, and were highly appreciated by the admirers of Goethe, as well as by the great poet himself. His correspondence with friends contains numerous allusions to them.—Vide "Riemer's Letters to and from Goethe," p. 325.]

"How old are you, M. von Goethe?" asked Napoleon.

"Sire, I am in my sixtieth year."

"In your sixtieth year, and yet you have the appearance of a youth! Ah, it is evident that perpetual intercourse with the muses has imparted external youth to you."

"Sire, that is true," exclaimed Daru, "the muse of Goethe is that of youth, beauty, and grace. Germany justly calls him her greatest poet, and does homage with well-grounded enthusiasm to the author of 'Faust,' of 'Werther,' and of so many other master-pieces."

"I believe you have also written tragedies?" asked Napoleon.

"Sire, I have made some attempts," replied Goethe, smiling. "But the applause of my countrymen cannot blind me as to the real value of my dramas. I believe it is very difficult, if not impossible, for a German poet to write real tragedies, which fulfil the higher requirements of art, and withal those of the stage. I must confess that my tragedies are not so adapted."

"Sire," said Daru, "M. von Goethe has also translated Voltaire's 'Mohammed.'"

"That is not a good tragedy," said Napoleon. "Voltaire has sinned against history and the human heart. He has prostituted the character of Mohammed by petty intrigues. He makes a man, who revolutionized the world, act like an infamous criminal deserving the gallows. Let us rather speak of Goethe's own work—of the 'Sorrows of Werther.' I have read it many times, and it has always afforded me the highest enjoyment; it accompanied me to Egypt, and during my campaigns in Italy, and it is therefore but just that I should return thanks to the poet for the many pleasant hours he has afforded me."

"Sire, your majesty, at this moment, amply rewards me," said Goethe, bowing slightly.

"Your 'Werther' is indeed a work full of the most exalted ideas," added Napoleon; "it contains noble views of life, and depicts the weariness and disgust which all high-minded characters must feel on being forced to leave their sphere and come in contact with the gross world. You have described the sufferings of your hero with irresistible eloquence, and never, perhaps, has a poet made a more artistic analysis of love. Let me tell you, however, that you have not been entirely consistent in the work. You make your hero die not only of love, but of wounded ambition, and you mention expressly that the injustice he met with at the hands of his official superiors was a wound always bleeding, of which he suffered even in the presence of the lady whom he loved so passionately. That is not quite natural, and weakens in the mind of the reader the comprehension of that influence which love exerted on Werther. Why did you do so?"

Goethe looked almost in astonishment at the emperor; this unexpected censure, and the quick, categorical question, had equally surprised him, and momentarily disturbed the calmness of the poet. "Sire," he said, after a brief pause, "your majesty has found fault with something with which no one has reproached me heretofore, and I confess that your criticism has struck me. But it is just, and I deserve it. However, a poet may be pardoned for using an artifice which cannot easily be detected, in order to produce a certain effect that he believes he is unable to bring about in a simple and natural way."

Napoleon nodded assentingly. "Your 'Werther' is a drama of the heart, and there are none to be compared with it," he said. "After reading it, I am persuaded that it is your vocation to write in this style; for the tragic muse is the favorite companion of the greatest poet. Tragedy was at all times the school of great men. It is the duty of sovereigns to encourage, patronize, and reward it. In order to appreciate it correctly, we need not be poets ourselves; we only need knowledge of human nature, of life, and of a cultivated mind. Tragedy fires the heart, elevates the soul, and can or rather must create heroes. I am convinced that France is indebted to the works of Corneille for many of her greatest men. If he were living I would make a prince of him."

"Your majesty, by your words, has just adorned his memory with the coronet of a prince," said Goethe. "Corneille would assuredly have deserved it, for he was a poet in the noblest sense, and imbued with the ideas and principles of modern civilization. He never makes his heroes die in consequence of a decree of fate, but they always bear in themselves the germ of their ruin or death; it is a natural, rational death, not an artificial one."

"Let us say no more about the ancients and their fatalism," exclaimed Napoleon; "they belong to a darker age. Political supremacy is our modern fatalism, and our tragedies must be the school of politicians and statesmen. That is the highest summit which poets are able to reach. You, for instance, ought to write the death of Caesar; it seems to me you could present a much more exalted view of it than Voltaire did. That might become the noblest task of your life. It ought to be proved to the world how happy and prosperous Caesar would have made it if time had been given him to carry his comprehensive plans into effect. What do you think of it, M. von Goethe?"

"Sire," said Goethe, with a polite smile, "I should prefer to write the life and career of Caesar, and in doing so I should not be at a loss for a model." His eyes met those of the emperor, and they well understood each other. Both of them smiled.

"You ought to go to Paris," exclaimed Napoleon. "I insist on your doing so. There you will find abundant matter for your muse."

"Your majesty provides the poets of the present time, wherever they may be, with abundant matter," said Goethe, not in the tone of a courtier, but with the tranquillity of a prince who confers a favor.

"You must go to Paris," repeated Napoleon. "We shall meet again."

Goethe, who was an experienced courtier, understood the delicate hint, and stepped back from the table. Napoleon addressed a question to Marshal Soult, who entered at this moment. The poet withdrew without further ceremony. The eyes of the emperor followed the tall, proud figure, and turning to Berthier, he repeated his exclamation, "Voila un homme!"



CHAPTER XLIII.

THE CHASE AND THE ASSASSINS.

The two emperors made their entry into the decorated city of Weimar amidst pealing bells, and the cheers of the people. The Duchess of Weimar, just as she had done two years before, received the French conqueror at the head of the palace staircase; this time, however, she was not alone, but her husband, whom the emperor had formerly hated and reviled so bitterly, stood at her side. Napoleon greeted the ducal couple with his most winning smile.

The events of those terrible days of the past had been well-nigh forgotten. A short time had sufficed to veil their memory, and Napoleon was a welcome and highly-honored guest two years after the battle of Jena. No vestige of the former distress remained; but the laurels of the victor had not withered.

A vast number of carriages, horsemen, and pedestrians, filled the streets. The whole country had sent its representatives to greet the emperors. All the houses were ornamented with flags, festoons, busts, and laudatory inscriptions. But no one cared to stay at home. The inhabitants and strangers hastened to the forest of Ettersburg, to witness the great chase which the Duke of Weimar had arranged in honor of the imperial guests.—Several hundred deer had been driven up and fenced in, close to the large clearing which was to be the scene of this day's festivities. In the middle rose a huge hunting-pavilion, the roof of which rested on pillars twined with flowers. Here the two emperors were to witness the chase, and the two wings of the structure were assigned to the kings, dukes, and princes. All eyes and thoughts, therefore, were turned in that direction; and yet no one noticed particularly two youthful forms, wrapped in cloaks and leaning against an oak near the gamekeepers. The merry clamor and the bugle-calls of the hunters drowned the conversation of these young men. No one was surprised at seeing rifles in their hands; they might be hunters or gamekeepers—who could tell?

"I believe," said one of them, in a whisper, "we shall accomplish nothing. My rifle does not carry far enough to hit him, and we are not allowed to approach nearer."

"It is impossible to take a sure aim from here," replied the other. "My eye does not reach so far; I could fire only at random into the pavilion."

"The order says, however, to strike him alone, and not to endanger other lives," said the first speaker. "The president said, if we kill him, it would be an act of justice; but if we are so unfortunate as to kill another, it would be murder."

"Oh, what sophistries to lull the warning voice of conscience!" murmured the second speaker; "I—"

Loud cheers interrupted him; the notes of bugles and the roll of drums mingled with the general uproar. The people seemed wild with excitement, and the deer in the enclosure huddled together in terror. The two emperors with their suites had just arrived.

"Look at him, brother," whispered the young man to his companion; "look at the weird contrast of his gloomy countenance with the merry faces around him. He stands like some incarnate spirit of evil in the midst of laughing fools."

"Yes, but he is himself merry, brother Alfred, or seems to be," said his companion.

"The groans of poor Germania are not heard in the flatteries of her princes, who are fawning around him, and guarding him so well that the hand of a true German cannot reach him."

"But the sword is hanging over him, brother Conrad," said Alfred, "and if it do not fall on him to-day, it will to-morrow. Let us wait and watch for an opportunity."

"Yes, Alfred, let us wait. We know not what favorable chance may aid us."

The chase commenced; amidst deafening shouts the game were driven from the enclosure. Whenever a deer passed near the pavilion, the two emperors fired, and when the noble animal fell at perhaps ten yards' distance, the spectators cheered, the bugles sounded, and the two imperial sportsmen congratulated each other on their skill.

"It is in vain to stand here any longer," said Conrad, impatiently. "We shall be unable to reach him, and it is repugnant to my feelings to witness this butchery."

"Let us go, brother," whispered Alfred. "We must try to find another opportunity. Let us reflect. Do you know the programme of the day's festivities?"

"I do. After the chase there will be a gala-dinner, and the sovereigns will then ride to the theatre, where the 'Death of Caesar' will be performed. After the representation of the tragedy, there will be a grand supper and ball at the palace."

"The 'Death of Caesar?'" asked Conrad, musingly. "Does fate intend giving us a hint thereby? Does it show us where to find him and to strike the blow? Let us be the actors in a similar play, and perform our part at the entrance of the theatre! Are you ready, brother?"

"I am ready," replied Alfred, sighing. "We have sworn to do every thing the league orders us to do—we must obey."

"Yes," said Conrad, sighing, "obey or die. Let us take our daggers to-night, and use them well. Let us place ourselves in front of the theatre, you on the right, and myself on the left. We must strike at the same time, when he alights from his carriage. While all are gazing at him, let us stealthily slip through the crowd. When you hear me shout 'One,' you will shout 'Two!' We will then simultaneously rush forward."

"At what time do we meet?"

"At seven o'clock, and if we escape death and arrest, we shall meet again at the tavern outside the gate. Farewell, brother Alfred!"

"Farewell, brother Conrad!"

On the same evening, a thousand lights illuminated Weimar. That part of the city between the palace and the theatre, where the emperors would pass, was especially brilliant. When after the chase they had withdrawn to rest a little, and the high dignitaries of the court were waiting in the large reception-halls, Grand-Marshal Duroc approached General von Mueffling, who had left the Russian service; he was now vice-president in Weimar, and had been charged by the duke with the supervision of the court festivities.

"Tell me, sir," said Duroc, in a low voice, "I suppose you have a good police here?"

"Of course, we have," replied Mueffling, smiling, "that is to say, we have a police to attend to sweeping the chimneys and cleaning the streets, but as to a haute police, we still live in a state of perfect innocence."

"The emperor, then, is to go to the theatre, and your police have taken no precautions for his safety?" asked Duroc, anxiously.

"I believe it is so, M. Grand Marshal. If you wish to make any arrangements, pray do so, and I shall approve them."

"Thank you," said Duroc, bowing. "I have secretly sent for a brigade of French gendarmes. Will you permit them to guard the doors of the theatre, and keep the populace from the streets along which the emperors will ride?"

"Do as you please, M. Grand Marshal," said General von Mueffling, with a slightly sarcastic smile. "A detachment of the imperial guard will be drawn up in front of the theatre, and hence I deemed any further precautions entirely superfluous."

"The grenadiers are posted there only as a guard of honor," said Duroc; "I hasten to send the gendarmes thither."

Fifteen minutes afterward the whole route from the palace to the theatre was guarded by gendarmes, who pushed back all who tried to cross the narrow sidewalks, or to step into the street along which the carriages were rolling. A double line of grenadiers was drawn up in front of the theatre. An officer walked up and down, gazing anxiously along the street, in order to command the drummers to beat according to the rank of the sovereigns arriving. For the emperors they were to roll thrice, for the kings twice, and but once for the sovereign dukes and princes. The drummers had just rolled three times, for the Emperor Alexander had arrived. Another magnificent carriage approached; the coachman on the box was covered with gold lace, and two runners, entirely clad in gold brocade, accompanied. Two rolls had already been beaten, a third was about to commence, when the commanding officer waved his hand angrily, and shouted, "Silence! It is only a king!" The stout form of the King of Wuertemberg appeared, and hastened into the theatre. Another carriage approached. The drummers beat louder than before. Once, twice! And then a third roll. The grenadiers presented arms, and the people rushed forward. It was the Emperor Napoleon.

At this moment a young man elbowed himself through the crowd. He was already close to the emperor. Only a single gendarme was in front of him.

"One!" he shouted in a ringing voice, pushing aside the gendarme. "One!" he repeated. No voice replied.

"Stand back!" cried the guard.

The emperor walked past. He had heard the shout. At the door he turned his stern face, while his eyes flashed for a moment searchingly over the crowd. He then slowly walked on. No accident disturbed the representation, and the daggers that had been lurking outside for the modern Caesar had failed to strike him.

On the same evening the two conspirators met at the place agreed on. With disappointed faces they seemed to read each other's secret thoughts.

"Why did you not reply to me, brother?" asked Conrad. "Why were you silent when I gave the signal?"

"I was unable to get through the crowd," said Alfred. "The gendarmes refused to let me pass, and it appeared to me they were eying me suspiciously. It was impossible to penetrate to the spot indicated. I heard you call, but could not reply; I was too far from you."

"The work, then, must be done to-morrow," said Conrad, gravely and sadly.

"Remember, brother, that the order of the president was to strike the blow within a week. To-morrow is the last day!"

"Yes, to-morrow we must desecrate the sacred cause of the fatherland by an assassination," said Alfred, sighing. "But we have sworn not to shrink from death if the league requires it, and must obey!"

"We must obey or die," murmured Conrad. "Do you know the programme of to-morrow?"

"I do, brother. Napoleon wishes to show the battle-field of Jena to the Emperor Alexander, and to the kings and princes; and the Duke of Weimar, who participated in the battle at the head of a Prussian division, has arranged, in harmless self-irony, a hare-hunt. That will be a highly dignified celebration of the anniversary of that battle."

"Oh, Germania! how thou must suffer!" groaned Conrad. "It is time for us to place a bloody offering on thy altar! It must be done to-morrow. The road to Jena crosses the small forest of the Webicht. Let us place ourselves there close to the road, armed with our muskets. One of their balls will surely hit him. We must both shoot at the same time."

"To-morrow, then, in the forest of the Webicht!"

On the following day the imperial and royal visitors repaired to Jena, in order to hunt hares on the battle-field of Napoleon's famous victory. On the Landgrafenberg, where Napoleon two years ago had spent the night before the battle at a bivouac-fire, a magnificent tent had been erected, and the Duke of Weimar begged leave to call it henceforth "Napoleonsberg." Napoleon granted the request, smilingly, and then asked the company to take a walk with him across the battle-field, that he might explain to them the various operations of the great struggle. This request of course was received with general joy, and the party descended into the valley. Napoleon led the way; on his right Alexander, on his left Prince William of Prussia, whom he had taken care to have by his side. All listened in breathless silence to his words, which were growing more and more enthusiastic. He disclosed to his audience his own plans and motives, as well as the disastrous dispositions of his enemies. Alexander listened to him musingly; the German kings and princes, in breathless suspense. The French marshals, however, looked discontented while their sovereign was speaking. Once, when the emperor was just expatiating in glowing words on the correct mode of warfare, his eyes happened to meet the countenance of Berthier, Prince of Neufchatel, and noticed the dissatisfied expression of his features.

When Napoleon repaired to his tent, he ordered Marshal Berthier to follow him. "Berthier, why did you look so angry?"

"Sire," faltered Berthier, in confusion, "I do not know that I did."

"But I know it. Why were you dissatisfied? Speak! I command you!"

"Well, if your majesty insists, I will speak," exclaimed Berthier. "Your majesty apparently forgot what you have repeated to us so often: that we ought always to treat our allies as though they afterward might become our enemies. Is your majesty not afraid lest the sovereigns should profit hereafter by the excellent lessons given them to-day?"

The emperor smiled. "Berthier," he said, kindly, "that is truly a bold rebuke, and hence I like it. I believe you take me for a babbler. You think, then, Prince of Neufchatel," he added, bending over Berthier and pulling his ear, "that I have put whips into the hands of the German princes which they might use against us! Be not alarmed; I do not tell them every thing." And Napoleon opened the door of the tent with a laugh, and gave the signal for the hunt to begin.

Not a human voice was to be heard in the forest of Webicht, which was generally much frequented. It was but a bird's song that broke the deep silence. Suddenly there was a rustling noise in the autumnal leaves covering the ground, and quick footsteps approached the road crossing the middle of the forest.

Two young men, wrapped in cloaks, glided through the woods, and stationed themselves behind a couple of large beeches. They looked searchingly along the road; opened their cloaks, and raised their weapons to examine them, that they might make sure work.

"All right," said Conrad.

"All right," echoed Alfred.

"When I call out 'One,' we must both fire!"

"Yes, but we have been ordered to kill none but him," said Alfred, hesitatingly. "What if he does not ride alone? If one of the balls should strike an innocent man?"

"If one of his marshals or adjutants sits beside him he would not be an innocent man, for he has assisted in making our country unhappy! Let German soil drink his blood! He must not prevent us from carrying out our purpose. We cannot shrink from it, because we have sworn obedience to the league, and this is the last day. We must do or die!"

"Hush! let us listen and watch for him, brother Conrad." Soon the roll of wheels was heard. The two conspirators raised their muskets as the carriage approached. It could be seen that it contained two persons.

"It is he," whispered Alfred. "But who is seated by his side?"

"One of his adjutants," said Conrad; "no matter! Let us aim, brother." The large trunks of the beeches concealed the forms of the conspirators.

"When I command, we fire!" whispered Conrad.

So close were they now that the persons seated in the coach could be recognized. The man sitting on the right was Napoleon. But who was the young man with the fine but downcast face?

"Stop," whispered Alfred. "Do not shoot, brother! He is no Frenchman! He is a German prince, the brother of the King of Prussia! We cannot fire!"

"No, we must not fire at the brother of the unfortunate King of Prussia!" murmured Conrad, lowering his arm. As the carriage passed by, the conspirators could distinctly hear the words of Napoleon and his companion. "A fine, fragrant forest," said the former, in his sonorous voice, "just the thing for German poets and dreamers. For I suppose, prince, the Germans like to dream?"

"Sire," said Prince William, mournfully, "I believe your majesty has at last disturbed them in their visionary musings."

Napoleon burst into laughter, which resounded through the forest, and startled the pale men standing behind the trees, and gazing gloomily after him. He chatted gayly beside Prince William, without suspecting that he, the brother of the King of Prussia, whom Napoleon had humbled so often and so grievously, had just saved his life.

"We have failed again," said Alfred, when the noise of the wheels was dying away in the distance. "The last day is nearly gone. What shall we reply to the brethren when they ask us how we have carried out the order which our country sent us? What shall we reply when they call us to account?"

"We shall tell them that Heaven refused to allow the sacred cause of Germany to be desecrated by murder!" exclaimed Conrad, gravely; "that, faithful to our obligation, although with reluctant hearts, we tried to accomplish our mission, but that we were restrained and our strength was paralyzed. You will tell them so, brother—you alone. Tell them that I was not forgetful of the oath I took on the day I joined the league. Having been unable to obey, I die! Farewell, brother!" A shot reechoed in the silent forest.

Not long after, a man, with livid cheeks and wild eyes, might have been seen hastening across the distant heath on the other side of the woods. As he ran he whispered, "Unhappy Germany!" These were the last words of his companion Conrad, who lay dead on the fallen leaves.

Two days after their return from Weimar, on the 10th of October, the emperors signed the treaty about which they had agreed, and in which Romanzoff had been obliged to acquiesce. France consented in this treaty that Russia should take possession of Moldavia and Wallachia. Russia also agreed to whatever changes Napoleon had made, and would hereafter make, in regard to the government of Spain, and engaged to assist him in a war against Austria.

On the 14th of October they left Erfurt, and returned to their states. The object of their meeting had been attained; both had derived benefit from it. Alexander had gained Moldavia and Wallachia; Napoleon, a powerful friend and ally. Europe received tremblingly the news of this alliance of the West and the East. What hopes remained to Germany!—to that dismembered country, over whose battle-fields Russia and France had joined hands and concerted measures against the most powerful of its states—Austria!