"You are a blustering fellow yourself," laughed the count, "and 'Who loves to dance, ne'er lacks the chance.' If you are thus minded, we shall have a little hunt to-day, and take it upon yourself to invite for us a few worthy and suitable gentlemen who have fine horses and dogs."

"And will not your grace to-day, in this beautiful weather, grant these gentlemen the pleasure of seeing the two new greyhounds run? They have been here eight days already, and might as well display a little of their skill for the heavy sum of money they have cost."

"Yes, that is true—a heavy sum of money they cost indeed," said the count. "My son writes me that he paid eight thousand dollars for these two greyhounds." [9]

"But they are worth it, your excellency," cried the chamberlain, quite enthusiastically. "They are two wonderful animals, who have not their match in the wide world. I am quite in love with them, and if I had wife or ladylove, would gladly give her for these two greyhounds."

"Yes, yes, many an one would relish making payments in this fashion," laughed the count. "It is easier to give a wife away than eight thousand dollars, and again she is easier to obtain than such a superior greyhound. Hurry now, Lehndorf, and arrange the hunt for me. Let the servants put on their new red hunting suits and my huntsman also his new livery, that the curious Berlin people may have something to gape at. Away with you, Lehndorf! You, pages, take the baskets, now I am off for the audience hall."

Both pages, in suits of gold-embroidered velvet, rushed into the little antechamber, and quickly returned, each one bearing a pretty, shallow basket in his hand. Behind them came the chamberlain, who threw across the count's shoulders his ermine-lined velvet mantle, and put into his hand his plumed hat, trimmed with gold lace, and his embroidered gloves. The count hastily placed the tall, pointed hat with its nodding plumes upon his dark, curly hair, in which showed here and there a few silver streaks, and grasped the long gloves firmly in his right hand, sparkling with brilliant rings.

"Open the doors!" he said authoritatively, and the chamberlain flew before him, and tore open both halves of the folding doors. The two halberdiers, who stood near the door on the other side, raised their halberds, and proclaimed with thundering voices, "His excellency and grace, count of the empire and Stadtholder in the Mark!"

Through the two long apartments, on both sides of which was ranged a dense crowd of people of all sorts—men and women, venerable magistrates in solemn robes of office, and soldiers in their uniforms, poorly clad citizens and fine-dressed gentlemen, bold-looking young ladies and respectable matrons in white garbs of widowhood—through both these long apartments flew, as it were, one sigh, one joyful breath of relief and surprise, and all faces, the sad and bright, the eyes reddened by wine and night watches, as well as those sparkling with avarice and passion, all turned toward the lofty, full form of the Stadtholder, who, so proud and so brilliant, so august and self-conscious, stood upon the threshold of the door. He gave no salutation; not in the least did he incline his head, but with one sharp look let his large, gray eyes glide up and down on both sides; and this look sufficed to cause all heads to sink in reverence, to bow the proud and humble necks, so deeply, so reverentially, that high and low, old and young, poor and rich were now all one and the same—the petitioners of the electoral minister, the almighty Stadtholder in the Mark!

He now strode forward, followed by the two pages with their empty baskets. But these baskets were soon filled, for at each step forward a hand was stretched out to the count, handing him a written petition, and the count took it smilingly, and with distinguished indifference cast it into one of the proffered baskets. But before those who had come without written requests, and entreated a gracious personal hearing, the Stadtholder paused, and they began hurriedly, and with embarrassment, because they feared being heard by their neighbors, to state their wishes. It seldom happened, however, that the count allowed them to speak to the end, interrupting them in the midst of their speech with a hasty, "Commit it to writing! commit it to writing!" and striding on with the same lofty bearing, the same proud, imperturbable equanimity. Only when he neared the spot where stood the delegates of the citizens of Berlin and Cologne a cloud overshadowed his brow, and a flash of anger shot from his eyes.

He stopped before the burgers, and looked at them with an expression of cold, scornful repose.

"What do you want of me?" he asked.

"Help in our need, most gracious excellency," began the spokesman, "pity for our misfortunes! We can not pay the new war tax, we—"

"Ah! just see," the count interrupted him mockingly; "now you come to me, to sue for my favor. Your visit, then, to his Electoral Grace, has been in vain. The Elector has not granted the shameless petition of the citizenship; he has not encroached upon the rights of the Stadtholder appointed by himself to rule here in his stead. You have thought to circumvent me, and hardly has the lord of the land come hither before you must gain favors from himself. Well, see what favors you have obtained! Hardly an hour ago you walked with quick, proud steps into the castle of his Electoral Grace, and now you stand with humble, sad countenances in the antechamber of the Stadtholder in the Mark! What will you have here, and what have those to do with the Stadtholder who can converse with the Elector himself?"

"Pardon, your excellency, as faithful and humble children of the country, we turned first to our father and lord—"

"Now stick to that!" interrupted the count warmly, "and desire not to obtain from me what the fatherly heart of your beloved liege lord has denied you. Go, and never again appear in these parts! And you, too, my lords, deputies from the duchy of Cleves," continued the count, striding forward toward the deputies—"you, too, might reasonably have spared yourselves the trouble of appearing here. Who has enjoyed the honor of being received by his Electoral Highness need have no necessity for antechambering at the house of his minister and Stadtholder, for all favors and all honors flow from the almighty and exalted person of the Elector himself, and what he has done is good, and what he has said stands fast and is the law. Therefore, also, whoever has obtained dismissal from his Electoral Grace need no more turn to me, for the sun has shone upon him, and like myself he stands in the shade."

With these ambiguous words the Stadtholder moved forward, leaving the deputies covered with shame and swelling with indignation, while his countenance had speedily brightened. With more friendly gestures he now accepted the written petitions, and even listened patiently and condescendingly to those who had only come with oral supplications; promised them redress for their difficulties, exhorted them with loud voice to place confidence in their Stadtholder, appointed by the Elector, and to be assured that whoever turned to him would not sue and plead in vain, if his cause were just, fair, and practicable.

When the count had finished his circuit and stood again at his cabinet door, the baskets were piled high with written petitions, and the count, pointing to these with outstretched right hand, on whose fingers sparkled many a costly jewel, asseverated with loud voice that he would himself open, read, and examine all these writings, and do whatever was in his power. Then, with a short, gracious nod of dismissal, he retired into his cabinet, followed by the two pages with their baskets.



IV.—SOLDIERS AND DIPLOMATISTS.

Awaiting Count von Schwarzenberg in his cabinet were the four officers whom the lackey had conducted there in obedience to his instructions. They grew dumb in the midst of their conversation when the count entered, and stood up, saluting him in stiff and military style. Count Schwarzenberg nodded to them in a friendly manner, and an obliging smile played about his thin and finely cut lips.

"Put the baskets on my writing table and go out," he commanded the pages, and then turned toward the gentlemen, who still stood there with soldierly stiffness.

"Welcome, my lord general, and you, sirs colonels," he said in playful, jocular tone. "Truly, it is a pleasure to see one's self surrounded by such valiant soldiers. If my gracious master the Elector had as many such splendid soldiers as he has leaders, he would be helped indeed, and not find it necessary to battle with the Swedes for his dukedom of Pomerania, for then would the Swedes soon run off conquered."

"Just imagine, your excellency," cried Colonel Conrad von Burgsdorf, while he stroked his long, gray mustache with his broad fat hand—"just imagine what respect the Swedes would have for such a regiment composed of Klitzings, Rochows, and Krachts."

"You forget yourself, Sir Colonel," said Count Schwarzenberg, in a friendly, insinuating tone; "you forget to say that Conrad von Burgsdorf alone is a whole regiment in himself."

"Perhaps that is the reason why I have in fact nothing behind me," cried Colonel von Burgsdorf, with a loud, coarse laugh. "Yes, yes, now I know why I have so few soldiers behind me; the others all concentrate in me, and it is merely a pity and shame that they can not come forth from me to make front against the cursed Swedes."

"They will come forth now, depend upon it; they will come forth," said the count, with a pleasant smile. "My lords, I have had you summoned to confer with you about important and significant tidings. In the first place, we shall consider what relates to yourselves, and is therefore of greatest interest to you. General von Klitzing, henceforth you shall have no cause to complain of having a title but no employment. For from this very day you shall have employment, since his Electoral Grace designs forthwith to have regiments equipped and brought into the field."

"Hurrah! now for it!" shouted Burgsdorf, waving his right arm.

"I shout hurrah, too, with your excellency's permission," said General von Klitzing joyfully. "It has been three months since your excellency did me the favor to recall me here from the Saxon service in order to assume the command of the Brandenburg troops, and I have been in despair ever since, for it has been just like acting a comedy, where they fight with pasteboard swords and tin soldiers."

"That was the fault of the states and cities, who would not grant the Elector taxes for the equipment of regiments," returned the count, with emphasis. "Besides, ever since the peace of Prague the Elector has been pledged to neutrality. And if you can take part neither for nor against, can fight neither for friend nor foe, then it is better to have no soldiers, and no swords that can not be unsheathed. But now all will be different, and therefore the Elector nominates you, General von Klitzing, commandant general of all the Brandenburg fortresses, their garrisons, and all the electoral forces collectively."

"That is indeed an important and honorable appointment," cried the general, "and I shall esteem myself happy if I can now succeed in bringing the electoral forces into action."

"That must be done the first thing, general, yes, indeed, that must be done," cried Burgsdorf, laughing. "Alack! up to this time we have had no soldiers, for the couple of wretched fellows in each of the forts and the Elector's bodyguard could hardly be accounted such, and made but a poor show."

"Upon you, gentlemen, upon you it will henceforth devolve to create an army," said Schwarzenberg solemnly. "Colonel von Kracht, in virtue of my office as Stadtholder in the Mark, I this day pronounce you commandant of the fortresses of Berlin and Cologne; with the same fullness of power, I appoint you, Colonel von Rochow, commandant of Spandow; and lastly you, Colonel von Burgsdorf, I constitute commandant of the Fortress Kuestrin."

"I should have been better pleased if you had made me commandant of Berlin," growled Conrad von Burgsdorf. "They lead such a dull, wearisome life at Fortress Kuestrin, and I wish that Kracht and I could change places with one another. He knows the people of Kuestrin well, and understands how to get along with them, for the late commandant of Kuestrin was his father. Let us exchange with one another, von Kracht—here is my hand, give me yours! You are commandant of Kuestrin and I of Berlin!"

"Slowly, colonel," replied Baron von Kracht; "we must yield to order and authority, and submit ourselves to whatever the Stadtholder in the Mark has found good to arrange for us."

"Well said, Sir Commandant of Berlin!" cried Schwarzenberg. "I was silent, because I wished to hear your answer. It follows, therefore, Colonel von Burgsdorf, that you go as commandant to Fortress Kuestrin."

"I know very well that you send me away to remove me as far as possible from your residence Berlin," growled Burgsdorf. "You can not bear to see that the Elector is attached to me, and calls me his friend. You can not bear that another should execute and perform what you yourself can not execute and perform. I saw plainly yesterday the look of hatred and ill will which you darted at me, across the Elector's table, while the great drinking match that I had proposed was going on. It was right plain to be seen how much vexed you were, that there was anything in which Conrad von Burgsdorf could excel the wise, the learned, and the most worshipful Count Adam von Schwarzenberg."

"Well! you really suppose that I could be envious and jealous?" cried the count, laughing. "No, most worthy colonel, with my whole heart I yield you the palm for being the first and most rapid drinker at the electoral court, and for emptying a quart cup of wine at one draught."

"And it is no trifling art, you must know, Sir Count," said Burgsdorf, with an important air. "Think not that it is a mere pleasure—no, it is a task too, and at times a difficult one."

"We did not observe it as such yesterday, Colonel von Burgsdorf," retorted the count. "You proved yourself yesterday a truly intrepid hero in drinking at the electoral table. For it is in fact an heroic deed to quaff eighteen quarts of wine in one hour, as you did yesterday."

"Well," said Burgsdorf, flattered, "we had a drinking-match, and the Elector had offered a fine prize to the best drinker. I had long desired to obtain possession of the pretty and flourishing little village Danzien, and, behold! this was the very prize the Elector had offered; so I was obliged to do what I could, and have to thank God that I came off victor. I drank all the other gentlemen under the table, and was alone left standing, with my eighteen quarts of wine aboard." [10]

"Now," said the Stadtholder, smiling, "I think you did not leave me under the table, for I kept erect in spite of you, Colonel Burgsdorf. I hope also to keep my position yet longer, and never to be thrust under the table by you."

He looked full in the colonel's bloated and wine-flushed face with a cold, proud glance, and smiled when he saw how Burgsdorf's brow darkened and his eyes flashed with fierce hatred.

"You will remain standing, Sir Stadtholder, so long as God and the Elector please," said Burgsdorf slowly. "Many an one falls, and under the table, too, although he may not be drunk with wine, but with pride and ambition, avarice and rapacity."

"Enough, Burgsdorf, enough," replied the count haughtily. "I did not summon you here to hold with you a controversy about words, for well do I know that you are as mighty in words as in drinking. I have had you summoned that you might receive your orders, and do and perform whatever the Stadtholder in the Mark commands and enjoins upon you, in the names of the Emperor's Majesty and his Electoral Grace. General von Klitzing, I have nominated you commander in chief of all the fortifications, as you, Colonels von Kracht, von Rochow, and von Burgsdorf, commandants of Berlin, Spandow, and Kuestrin. You may perceive from this that a new era has dawned, and that we have great things to expect from the future. Gentlemen, the time for waiting and delay is past. The Elector has concluded a treaty with the Emperor, by which the Emperor declares that the dukedom of Pomerania is the natural heritage of the Elector of Brandenburg, and invests him with it. It is true that at present the Swedes occupy Pomerania, and will not evacuate. But to that very end we must labor, to force the presumptuous Swedes to do this; and thereto the Elector has pledged himself to raise an army of five-and-twenty thousand men. To superintend these levies is the affair of the colonels and staff officers, therefore also your affair."

"The only question is, where is the money to come from to effect such levies," said General Klitzing.

"Yes, that is the question," exclaimed the three colonels impatiently.

"And the answer runs: The Emperor's Majesty has assigned money for that purpose. The Emperor's Majesty has granted the Elector a release from the payment of two hundred Roman-months which the Elector owed him, and with these two hundred Roman-months, which amount to three hundred and sixty-five thousand florins, troops are to be levied. But besides this, the Emperor expressly adds sixty thousand dollars, to be employed in enlisting soldiers; and the money will be paid out to those leaders and colonels who have recruited such and such a number of soldiers. For each soldier they get eight rixdollars."

"I shall recruit!" shouted Burgsdorf. "I shall go as commandant to Kuestrin, and enlist a regiment besides!"

"It is a matter of course that we all recruit," said General von Klitzing, "for such is the command and desire of the Elector, and him as our commander in chief we are bound to obey."

"By no means, general!" cried the count hastily. "Your commander in chief is the Emperor of Germany. The soldiers whom you shall enlist will of course be subject to the command of the Elector, but they must take an oath of allegiance to the Emperor and the empire, which runs thus, that they will be obedient to the Emperor, and in his stead to the Elector of Brandenburg, in order that the dukedom of Pomerania be recovered to the Elector, its natural sovereign.[11] According to the compact between the Emperor and the Elector, the official oath of military governors must also conform to this formula, and the commandants of fortresses be taken into the service of the Emperor and the empire. First and foremost is the obedience and fealty they owe to the Emperor."

"I do not understand that; it does not penetrate through my thick skull!" cried Burgsdorf impatiently. "How will it be if the Emperor's commands go counter to those of the Elector? If the Emperor orders us to do this, and the Elector that?"

"That will never happen," replied the count gravely.

"The Elector is much too loyal and faithful a vassal of the Emperor not to coincide always with the latter's gracious purposes and desires. I have now told you all that it is needful for you to know, have given you your commissions and announced your several ranks, and it only remains to administer to you the prescribed oath. In view of my absolute power as Stadtholder in the Mark, and as head of the electoral council of war, I will now receive your oath of fidelity to the Emperor and the Elector, and you must engage and swear to fulfill constantly and faithfully your duties to Emperor, empire, and Elector."

And just as the count dictated, without delay or contradiction, the four lords repeated the formula of the oath, and swore obedience, good faith, and service, first to the Emperor and the empire, and then to the Elector of Brandenburg. Thereupon the count dismissed them, exhorting them to repair instantly to their fortresses, and there to begin enlisting soldiers for the army of the Elector.

The count's countenance cleared up and assumed a triumphant expression when the four officers had left his cabinet, and he was now once more alone.

"I shall now be rid of that quarrelsome and dangerous man, Burgsdorf," he said complacently, as he sank apparently exhausted into an easy chair. "I have rendered him harmless and shoved him aside without his being really conscious of it. He does not suspect that we advanced and promoted the others only to remove him, Burgsdorf, to a distance, without exciting remark or scandal, and in order to be freed from his scurrilous tongue and insolent presence. I am truly glad and content that we have succeeded in this, and at the same time have taken these unreflecting and short-sighted gentlemen into service and allegiance to the Emperor and the empire." With a hurried "Who is there?" the count interrupted himself, starting from his seat. "Who dares to enter here unannounced?"

"I dare," said an earnest voice, and a tall, slender gentleman, wholly enveloped in a heavy traveling coat, his head covered with a great fur cap, strode through the apartment toward the count.

"Count Lesle, lord high chamberlain to the Emperor!" exclaimed the Stadtholder in surprise. "Is it you? Are you direct from Regensburg?"

"Yes, Count Schwarzenberg, I have come here direct from Regensburg, to depart again without delay. My traveling carriage stands without before your door, and I shall presently enter it, and journey hence again. You will on that account excuse my want of ceremony, but as the Emperor Ferdinand permits me to enter his apartments at any time, I thought that the Stadtholder of the Mark would not be less affable. Moreover, I could not send in my name, for no one besides yourself is to know of my being here, and I wish to travel incognito. Will you, then, pardon me, Count Schwarzenberg, and am I excused?"

"I am the one to sue for forgiveness, on account of my impatience, and I do so most cordially. And now I entreat you, count, first of all, make yourself comfortable. Permit me to assist you in laying aside your cumbrous traveling habit, and accept some ease and refreshment."

With officious zeal he busied himself in aiding his visitor to emerge from his wrappings, and soon Count Lesle stood before the Stadtholder of the Mark in the beautiful, unique Spanish garb, such as was worn at the imperial court.

"How glorious you look in those magnificent velvet robes!" cried Count Schwarzenberg, with a sigh, "and how much your Spanish costume makes me long for the sumptuous life of the imperial court! Ah! my dear count, here among us you find hardly a trace of this costly, splendid living, and an imperial valet or house servant has more pleasure and enjoyment than an Electoral Stadtholder in the Mark."

"Yet it is a fine and sonorous title," said Count Lesle, smiling, while he stretched himself out comfortably in the great armchair which Count Schwarzenberg had rolled forward for him, "and it is also a great and influential office. The Emperor's Majesty knows very well what a mighty and potent man the Stadtholder in the Mark is, and that Count Schwarzenberg is really Elector of Brandenburg."

"His Imperial Majesty knows, too, that I have never yet ceased to be the faithful and devoted servant of the Emperor," cried Schwarzenberg, at the same time drawing a simple chair to the side of the count's fauteuil, and seating himself upon it. "His Imperial Majesty knows, I hope, that first and above all other things I place my duty to the Emperor, and that I have no higher aim than to subserve the interests of his Imperial Majesty."

"Yes, the Emperor, our most gracious Sovereign, knows that," said Count Lesle feelingly. "He does not for a moment doubt the fidelity and attachment of the Stadtholder in the Mark, who has always been mindful that the Elector is only the Emperor's vassal, and the Emperor the real lord of the whole German Empire."

"And to maintain this relation intact, yes, that is what I have made the greatest task of my life," cried Schwarzenberg, with animation. "It is a task, in truth, not easy to be accomplished, for the Emperor's supreme Government has many enemies here at the electoral court, and very many there are here who maintain that Brandenburg should free herself entirely from imperial vassalage, and that the Elector should be sole lord within his own domains. But now, dearest lord high chamberlain and count, tell me wherefore you have come here so unexpectedly, and what news do you bring from Regensburg?"

"Very serious and very subtle news I bring with me, count," replied Count Lesle, "and of such a tender, delicate nature that we could not willingly entrust it to paper, even in cipher, but could only transmit it from my lips to your ear, and thence to the locked-up recesses of your breast. Therefore I have come to you, and need hardly say that not a breath of our conversation is to escape, and that nobody must know of my having been here. The question is about the Electoral Prince of Brandenburg—that young man who has already tarried more than three years in the Netherlands, and is imbibing there the hated poison of insubordination and passion for freedom. It is high time that the Electoral Prince were recalled."

"Recalled!" cried Count Schwarzenberg, starting up amazed. "But, Count Lesle, you do not know the Electoral Prince. You do not know the danger that would accrue now if this restless, ambitious, and fiery young man were to return home. My enemies and the secret opponents of the Emperor here desire nothing more ardently than just this very thing, and the Rochows and Schoenungs and all the reformers have already brought matters to such a pass that the Elector himself presses most urgently for his son's return home, and has even peremptorily required it of him. It is a plot of all the Swedish wellwishers, all the anti-imperialists of this court, believe me. They wish to place the Electoral Prince at their head, and hope by this means to bring it about that the weak and vacillating Elector shall secede from the Emperor and ally himself with the Swedes. They teased and goaded the Elector, until he even sent his Chamberlain von Schlieben to The Hague in order to fetch the Prince, and the latter has but to-day returned from his vain expedition."

"From his vain expedition, do you say? The Electoral Prince remains at The Hague, then, despite the strict commands, the pressing messages of his father? You see by that what fruit his stay at The Hague has already produced, and that the poison which he has imbibed there is even now at work. The Electoral Prince seems to be thoughtful and studious. And so much the more dangerous is it to leave him any longer at The Hague, where all are ill disposed toward the Spaniards, where is to be found the real hearthstone of the great European opposition to the house of Hapsburg, where the Prince of Orange is his instructor in the art of war, and can educate him to be a skillful and dangerous warrior and an enemy of the Emperor."

"All that is very true!" said Schwarzenberg gloomily. "But for all that he is less to be dreaded there than here, where he would cross all our plans and bring to nothing all our schemes. The Electoral Prince is a dangerous opponent, believe me. There is something bewitching in his character, and he would be in a position either to carry the Elector along with him in his career or to induce George William to follow his father's example, and resign the government in favor of his son, the Electoral Prince Frederick William. And do you know, Count Lesle, what would be the first act of Frederick William's reign? To depose me, to take all power out of my hands, and to institute a new course of policy for the house of Brandenburg!"

"Only get him here first, count, and then it is your affair to guard against this extreme. Take example from what happened on one occasion in Spain, where also rioters and innovators thronged around the heir to the throne, by his abettance to overturn existing institutions and hurl the King from his throne. My God! You know the story of King Philip and his son Carlos. Hardly fifty years have elapsed since then. Profit by this example, and learn from this story that if the son is dangerous, you have only to render him suspected by his father, and he becomes innocuous. If the son is the enemy of his father, then the father must also be made the enemy of his son, that in this way an equilibrium be preserved. You are much too great a statesman and too acute a diplomatist not to know how to act in this matter. But the urgency of the case is pressing. You must have him under your own eyes, under your own guardianship."

"It is true," said Schwarzenberg thoughtfully, "he imbibes deadly poison there, and is quite too enthusiastic in his admiration of the Protestant leader, the Prince of Orange. His letters to his parents overflow with enthusiasm for the Orange general, whom he calls his master and teacher in the art of war, and lavishes upon him extravagant praise."

"And they are giving themselves trouble enough to link the young Prince yet more closely to the house of Orange, and the enemies of Spain and Hapsburg," said Count Lesle emphatically. "The Emperor has obtained exact accounts as to the practices going on at The Hague, whereby the Electoral Prince may be brought into the land of Cleves and united by marriage with the Palatinate house, whereby he may be brought equally under the influence of the sovereign States and the Prince of Orange, and estranged from the Holy Roman Empire.[12]

"He is to marry a princess of the Palatinate!" exclaimed the Stadtholder. "Ah! now I understand why the Electress, despite her tender love for her only son, constantly endeavors to keep him away, and to prolong his stay at The Hague. I always thought until now that it was on my account. I thought that the Electress believed me to have evil and malign intentions with regard to the Electoral Prince, and for that reason alone was opposed to her son's return. But now I see into it; she is for this Palatinate marriage, she wishes by that means to bind her son more closely to her own house and its interests, to alienate him further from the Emperor and the Holy Roman Empire. It is the daughter of the banished Bohemian King, the Princess Ludovicka Hollandine, who is to be the tie to unite him to Orange and the Palatinate. All this becomes suddenly clear to me, and I can not imagine how I could have been so blind and so innocent as not to have divined and penetrated into this earlier. The Electoral Prince does, indeed, in each of his letters make mention of the little household over which the banished Bohemian Queen, the Electress of the Palatinate, presides at Doornward, not far from The Hague."

"She has now removed her residence farther, to The Hague itself," said Count Lesle dryly; "without doubt, because winter approaches, and it will be more comfortable for the Electoral Prince not to find it necessary to travel that long way to Doornward to see his dearly beloved one. She must be quite a pretty girl, the Princess Ludovicka Hollandine, and, moreover, of very tender complexion, and not at all disposed to play the prude with the young, handsome Electoral Prince, who seems particularly to please her."

"And the Electress is particularly partial to her sister-in-law, the Electress of the Palatinate," said Schwarzenberg thoughtfully. "Tears always come into her eyes whenever she speaks of her, and calls to mind her brother's unhappy fate.[13] It would, indeed, be for the advantage of her house if the daughter of her banished brother should again exalt the honor of her family, and find in Brandenburg amends for the lost Palatinate. For when women take it into their heads to meddle with politics, then are their hearts always interested; and even in politics, match making is their especial delight. Yes, yes, Count Lesle, I see into it now; you are right. The Electoral Prince is to wed the Palatinate Princess, and the Electress favors this match."

"But the Emperor would be displeased at it in the highest degree," cried Count Lesle. "It is therefore impossible that this alliance take place. You must do everything to prevent the Elector from granting his consent, and however many are for it, and blow upon one horn, yet the Elector must strike no note in harmony with this Palatinate marriage."[14]

"No, the Elector will not and shall not," replied the count decidedly. "It is for me to prevent him, and—You are indeed right. There is nothing left to be done but to summon the Electoral Prince from The Hague."

"It would be pleasant to the Emperor if the Electoral Prince came to his court," remarked Count Lesle; "it would be a token of confidence, and make an impression throughout the Holy Roman Empire upon friend and foe."

"Alas! the most important requisite of all is wanting—we want money," sighed Count Schwarzenberg, shrugging his shoulders.

"Well, that shall furnish no ground for objection, Sir Stadtholder. The Emperor commissioned me expressly to announce to you that his Imperial Majesty would gladly hold himself ready to furnish some assistance, yes, if needful, all the money required for the expenses of this journey.[15] And the Emperor would not be niggardly with his supplies of money for traveling, but give such sums that the Electoral Prince need not come merely to his Majesty at Vienna, but also make a little excursion to Innsprueck. For at Innsprueck the Archduke Leopold now holds his court, and the Electoral Prince could not fail to enjoy himself there, for the court at Innsprueck is brilliantly gay, and the archduke's youthful daughter, Clara Isabella, is peculiarly fond of pleasure, and is a beautiful and attractive young lady."

With a sudden movement of the head Count Schwarzenberg turned toward Lesle. "You do not mean it?" he asked hesitatingly.

Count Lesle nodded. "It is much to be desired," he said, smiling.

"But I fear it is impossible!" cried Schwarzenberg. "Every one here will be opposed to it; no one in favor of it. It is simply not to be thought of, and impossible that the Electoral Prince should marry a Catholic."

"It only seems probable, and to effect it, it is only necessary to go to work in the right way," said Count Lesle quietly. "You see by yourself how the inconceivable can still become matter of reality. Would it not have been supposed impossible that at this court, where there are none but heretics, where Reformers and Lutherans contend for precedence, that a Catholic and an imperialist could have become prime minister and confidential adviser to the Elector? And yet so it is, and for twenty years past the Catholic Count Schwarzenberg has been the favorite and I may say the controller of the Elector of Brandenburg. And why should not the Catholic minister and Stadtholder be able to negotiate a Catholic alliance? You underrate your power, count, and are by far too modest."

"Say rather I know the ground on which I tread, Count Lesle. Believe me, it is slippery and marshy soil, and a single incautious step may cause me to sink."

"Then guard against an incautious step, but advance boldly forward in the interests of his Imperial Majesty, and be assured that Ferdinand will prove himself to be a grateful and a gracious lord. And now, count, you know all that I came to communicate to you, and it is time for me to set out again."

"Will you set forth again so soon, Count Lesle, before you have done me the honor of taking a little breakfast and drinking a glass of wine with me?"

"Thank you, count, thank you most cordially. You know well, however, that the master's business is before all things else. My imperial master awaits me at Regensburg, and I shall then have the honor of being permitted to accompany him to Vienna. His Imperial Majesty is a strict and punctilious lord, and has calculated to the very day and hour when I may again reach the imperial palace. For our interview here he allowed me one hour; and, lo! the cock of your great wall clock had just stepped out and crowed eleven as I entered your room, and is already here, crowing twelve as loud as he can. It is therefore time for me to depart. I have briefly made you acquainted with the Emperor's intentions and desires, and your wise and fertile brain will know how to enlarge and construe. Farewell, Sir Stadtholder in the Mark, farewell, and may every blessing attend you!"

Count Lesle had risen and drawn his fur cap once more far over his brow. Schwarzenberg assisted him to don his ample and heavy wrappings, and then escorted him to the door.

"Permit me at least to conduct you to your carriage, Count Lesle," he said.

"Impossible, count; that would excite remark among your people, and give rise to conjectures on all sides. I gave myself out on entering as one of your officials from Sonnenburg, and your dignity does not suffer you to act toward your officials as toward an equal. Farewell, then!"

Count Lesle stepped out briskly, and hurriedly closed the palace door. Schwarzenberg stood listening to the retreating footsteps of the imperial legate until they died away in the long corridor. Then he slowly turned away and sank with a sigh into the armchair which Count Lesle had recently occupied.

"Strange tidings those," he muttered to himself. "I must now then adopt a wholly different line of action—must derange and newly model all my plans. What I would altogether avoid I must now do—must recall the Electoral Prince; must yield to him the precedence at court, both in rank and position; must—" All at once he started up and shrank, as if a sudden flash of lightning had interrupted his train of thought. "If it must be," he said quite softly to himself, "if nothing else is left for me, and I see myself in danger, then I will do it. I shall resort to this last expedient."

But even while he pronounced the words he grew pale and cast around him a timid, anxious glance, as if he dreaded being overheard by some traitorous ear. Then he leaned his head upon the back of the armchair, and sat, long, silent, and motionless, wholly absorbed in deep and earnest thought.

"Yes, it shall be so," he said at last. "He must leave The Hague; but it does not signify necessarily that he will arrive here so soon. The way is long, the roads are unsafe, and he must travel cautiously and circumspectly, for many cutthroats wander about, and who knows whether the Swedes may not make the attempt to capture and carry off the young Prince, or murder him, that he may not some day contest with them the possession of Pomerania. All this must, indeed, be risked; then—Master Gabriel Nietzel must nevertheless still go to The Hague; only I shall give him other instructions, and he will have a wholly different errand to fulfill. Yes, yes, it shall be so; I shall have him summoned directly."

He had already stretched out his hand for the whistle, when the outer door opened, and the valet entered.

"Pardon, your excellency. A lackey has just come from the palace. The Elector begs and entreats of your grace that you will have the kindness to repair forthwith to the Elector's residence."

"Present my respects to the Elector, and say that I shall do myself the honor of waiting upon him. Go, tell the lackey that, and have my carriage of state ordered out forthwith."

"Most gracious sir, I beg your pardon, but your excellency can not possibly go in the great carriage of state."

"Well, and why not?"

"Your excellency knows that it has been raining four days without intermission, and the ground is so soaked through that a man can not cross the streets or square without sinking up to his knees, how much less then a heavy vehicle. The carriage of the strange gentleman who has just been with your excellency remained stuck fast a few steps from here, and the coachman and footman, with a couple of our stableboys, are still busied in trying to pull it out of the mud."

"Heaven defend us!" cried the count, traversing the apartment with rapid strides; "then I must go myself directly and help the gentleman—"

But he suddenly bethought himself, and slowly stepped back from the door. "With the help of my stableboys, he must already be again on the road—my official from Sonnenburg," he said. "You think, then, that I can not take the great coach of state?"

"Not possibly, gracious sir. It is a morass, such as has not been for ages, and the townspeople have already brought out their mud carriages again."

"What is that? What are mud carriages?"

"Your excellency, I mean the stilts on which they parade around when the mud is very bad."

The count laughed. "The end of it is that nothing is left for me to do but to betake myself to stilts likewise in order to reach the electoral palace."

"It would be the easiest way, indeed," replied the lackey; "only it is not quite consistent with respect. But the great coach can not go."

"Then let them take my light hunting chaise, and attach four of my best coursers. In ten minutes I must be in the carriage."



V.—THE ELECTOR AND HIS FAVORITE.

In exactly ten minutes the hunting chaise stood in the inner court of the count's palace, and, as this was paved with huge granite flagstones, the count succeeded in reaching his carriage without spattering his white silk stockings, extending as far as the knee, or soiling his delicate velvet slippers, with their brilliant buckles and high red heels. Then the lackeys opened the great trellised gate of gilded iron, and with loud thundering the carriage rolled from the court out into the street. The coachman lashed the air with his whip, and the four coursers flew, hardly touching the ground with their pretty feet. The mud, to be true, splashed in mighty waves from the wheels and hoofs, giving the benefit of its floods to many an honest burger's wife who could not on her stilts immediately escape; often, indeed, was heard the anguished squeak or piteous howl of some sucking pig or dog over which the hunting equipage had rolled; but it paused not for these, and in a few moments halted in safety before the mean little portal of that small, dark mansion, honored with the title of the Elector's residential palace, which was situated on the other side of the cathedral square, near the Spree and the pleasure garden.

Before the portal stood a wretched carriage, covered with mud and drawn by four raw-boned horses, whose trappings and harness were wholly wanting in polish and neatness.

"The Elector means to ride out, it seems," said the count to himself, with a contemptuous glance at the poor electoral equipage.

"Drive a little aside!" screamed the count's well-dressed coachman from his box. "Let his excellency the Stadtholder drive up to the door, for it is just impossible for the count to alight here in this mud."

But the coachman only shook his head proudly, in token of refusal, and darted a look full of inexpressible contempt upon the Stadtholder's presumptuous driver.

"Drive out of the way!" shouted the count's coachman.

"Here I stand, and here I mean to stay until the Elector comes!"

"Let him remain, William, and speak not another word," commanded Count Schwarzenberg. "Drive my carriage up so close to the electoral carriage that I can conveniently step in."

The coachman obeyed, and the electoral charioteer, who had begun the contention with the supercilious driver of the Stadtholder with inward satisfaction, and hoped for a long protraction of the same, now felt himself foiled, and saw with inexpressible astonishment the coachman turn around, with rapid sweep make the circuit of the square, and draw up close beside the electoral equipage. Before he yet comprehended the object of this manoeuvre, the count had stretched forth his arm, opened with his own hand the door of the electoral coach, stepped into it, opened the door on the other side, and stepped out on the broad leather-covered plank which extended like a sort of drawbridge from the threshold of the palace garden to the electoral carriage.

"Bravo, Schwarzenberg, bravo!" called out a laughing voice, and as the count, standing midway on the plank, looked up, he saw the Elector above at the open window, nodding to him with friendly gesture, and greeting him with a cheerful smile.

"That was good for the brazen scoundrel, Fritz Long," called down the Elector; "how could the rascal dare not to move out of the way for the Stadtholder?"

"He did right, your Electoral Grace!" called up Schwarzenberg, as he hastily doffed his gold-edged hat with its waving plumes, and bowed so low that the tips of the white feathers surmounting the black ones touched the damp ground.

"Put on your hat, and come up," said the Elector. "It is cold down there."

"Only permit me first, most gracious sir, to do a little act of justice," cried Schwarzenberg, turning with a pleasant smile to the electoral coachman, who stared at him with sullen mien.

"Fritz Long," he said, with amiable condescension—"Fritz Long, you have acted as became a brave and trusty electoral coachman. You are perfectly right; you must never drive out of the way, even should the Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire himself come to visit the Elector. In recognition of your honesty and truth, accept this present from me."

And the count drew from the side pocket of his richly embroidered vest two gold pieces, and laid them in the immense hand, gloved in a dirty, yellow gauntlet, which the Elector's joyfully surprised state coachman reached out to him. The count again nodded affably to him, and passed through the palace portal. "I hope," he said to himself, while he slowly ascended the broad wooden stairs—"I hope that in the next riot my fellows will properly punish the shameless rascal, and take out the two gold coins I have given him in little pieces on his broad back."

The Elector advanced as far as the antechamber to meet his beloved minister, and opened the door himself. "Listen, Schwarzenberg," he said, with a smile; "you are such a capital man. You know how to help in all emergencies, and even when they drive you into the deepest mud you know how to come forth dry-shod and clean."

"Well, I may indeed have learned something of diplomacy and strategy at the electoral court," answered the minister, at the same time offering the support of his shoulder to assist the Elector in returning to his cabinet. "Your grace has summoned me, and I feared lest intelligence of a disquieting nature had reached your highness, the—"

"Very disquieting intelligence, indeed," sighed the Elector, as he sank down groaning into his leather armchair. "But I suppose you know it already. Schlieben is back, and our son comes not with him; he only writes us a lamentable letter, in which he explains that he can not come home at this season of the year, and in the present conjunction of the times."

"But that is rebellion!" exclaimed Schwarzenberg warmly; "that is putting himself in downright opposition to his Sovereign and his father!"

"You look upon it in that light too, then, Schwarzenberg?" asked George William. "You agree with me that the Electoral Prince has acted like a disobedient son and disrespectful subject?"

"Oh, my God!" sighed Schwarzenberg; "would that I could not agree with your highness! Would that an excuse might be found for this conduct of the Electoral Prince! It is painful to see how boldly the young gentleman dares to resist the supremacy of his father."

"It is rebellion, is it not?" asked George, his excitement waxing continually. "We send our own Chamberlain Schlieben to The Hague; we write our son a letter with our own hand, enjoining him to return home; we, moreover, inform him verbally through Schlieben of the urgent necessity of his return, and still our son insists that he will remain at The Hague, and has the spirit to send Schlieben home without accompanying him."

"That is indeed to put himself in open opposition and rebellion against his most gracious lord and father. And now your Electoral Highness must persist in requiring the Electoral Prince to set out and come back."

"He must and shall come back, must he not? The Electress, indeed, intercedes for him, and would gladly persuade us that we should grant our son one year's longer sojourn at The Hague, to perfect himself in all sorts of knowledge."

"Your highness," said Schwarzenberg softly, edging himself closer to the Elector's ear—"your highness, the Electress knows very well that the Electoral Prince has something in view at The Hague totally different from the acquisition of knowledge."

"Well, and what may that be?"

"A marriage, your highness. A marriage with the daughter of the widowed Electress of the Palatinate—with the fair Ludovicka Hollandine."

"That would indeed he a fine, plausible marriage!" cried the Elector, starting up. "A Princess of nothing, the daughter of an outlawed Prince, put under the ban by the Emperor!"

"But this Prince was the Electress's brother. It would be very pleasant to her grace's tender heart to exalt her prostrate house once more and bring it into consideration again, and she would therefore gladly see her brother's daughter some day a reigning Princess. Besides, the future Electress would then owe her mother-in-law a lifelong debt of gratitude, and the Dowager Electress might exert great influence and share in the government of her son."

"Yes, indeed, they all count upon my death," groaned the Elector; "they all long for the time when I shall be gathered to my fathers. They grudge me life, although, forsooth, it is no light, enjoyable thing to me, but has brought me trouble, deprivation, and want enough. But still, they grudge it to me, and if they could shorten it, would all do so."

"But I, my beloved master and Elector—I stand by you. I have placed it before myself as my sacred aim in life to guard you as a faithful dog guards his master, and to turn aside from you all that threatens you with danger and vexation. The Emperor, too, as your supreme protector, keeps his benignant eye fixed upon you, his much-loved vassal, and his wrath would crush all that should endeavor to injure you. There are, indeed, many here who think that the Elector of Brandenburg ought to make himself free and independent of that very Emperor, beneficent though he be, and, because your highness stands in their way, they attach themselves to the son, and, placing him at their head, wish to constitute him an opponent of the Emperor and empire. The Electress has probably not yet forgiven and forgotten that the Emperor put her brother under the ban of the empire, and banished him from country and friends. And the Prince of Orange, and the Sovereign States, the Swedes and all the enemies of his Imperial Highness and your Electoral Grace, would all unite their efforts to render the Electoral Prince a pliant tool in their hands. Therefore they wish to detain him yet longer at The Hague, and so to bind him there that he shall be wholly theirs, linked by an indissoluble chain. On that account they wish to bring about this marriage with the Princess Ludovicka Hollandine. I must confide to your highness the information that report has already bruited it abroad, and that it is spoken of at the imperial court. I have to-day received dispatches from Vienna which apprise me that the Emperor is very much opposed to this matrimonial project, and will never give his consent to it."

"And I, too, shall never give my consent!" screamed the Elector. "I will not again be brought to feud and strife with Emperor and empire. I will not range myself on the side of the Emperor's foes, and neither shall my son. I have always said that the Electoral Prince was staying far too long in foreign parts, and that he would return an alien. But you would never agree to it, Adam Schwarzenberg; you always thought that the Electoral Prince was much better off in his place than here, where the malcontents and disturbers of the peace would, throng about him, and that he could only learn what, was good and profitable there, while here he would learn much that was evil. And now it proves that the air there is much worse for him still, and that the tempters have more power over him there than here."

"I was blind and short-sighted when I fancied myself wise," replied Schwarzenberg, in a tone of contrition; "I was presumptuous enough to suppose I knew better than my Elector and lord, and now acknowledge in deep abasement how very wrong I was, and how far superior to myself my noble and beloved Electoral Lord is in penetration and foresight. I crave your pardon, most gracious sir, crave it in penitence and humiliation."

The proud Count von Schwarzenberg bowed his knee before the Elector, and with a glance of earnest entreaty pressed his lips to his Sovereign's hand. George William, flattered and enraptured by this humility on the part of his almighty favorite, bent forward and imprinted a kiss upon his lofty forehead.

"Rise, my Adam, rise," he said tenderly. "It does not become the grand master of the German orders, the rich and distinguished count of the empire, to kneel before the little Elector, who is not master of an army, but so poor that he knows not how he shall live and pay his servants; who has nothing of his possessions but the name, and nothing of his position but the burden! Stand up, Adam Schwarzenberg, for I love to see you erect and stately at my side, and to be able to look up to you as to a staff on which I may lean, and which is strong enough to bear me."

Count Schwarzenberg arose from his knees, and, resting his elbows upon the high back of the armchair, inclined his head toward the Elector, who looked up at him with glances of fond affection.

"My lord's coffers, then, are actually empty?" he asked.

"So empty, Adam Schwarzenberg, that my servants can not obtain their wages, and if a beggar were to accost me on my way to church, I could give him nothing, because not a florin is to be found in my own purse—so empty, that our whole project of the Electoral Prince's return threatens to be wrecked thereby, for our son has incurred debts which we are not able to liquidate. Schlieben informs us that the debts of the Electoral Prince amount probably to seven thousand dollars, and, besides that, he needs at least two thousand dollars more to defray the expenses of his journey home, together with his retinue, his carriage, and his horses."

"That is indeed a bad business," said the count thoughtfully, "for it is almost impossible to raise money in these hard times. Nevertheless a remedy shall and must be found, provided that my most gracious Sovereign will condescend to accept aid from his most humble servant and retainer."

"What say you, Adam? You will help me again?" asked the Elector. "Twice you have rescued me already from want, and supported my poverty with your wealth. I am your debtor, your insolvent debtor, who pays no interest, to say nothing of the capital."

"But like a magnanimous, high-spirited gentleman, always give the greater for the less," cried Schwarzenberg, smiling. "It is true I had the good fortune to be able to lend your highness a hundred thousand dollars on two occasions, but your highness gave me in pledge two fair domains in Cleves, which surely would be worth more than the sum lent if they should be sold."

"But nobody would buy them now because war and pestilence rage there, and no one knows who is master there. I give them to you, however, these domains of Huissen and Neustadt: from this very hour they are yours, and I shall forthwith make out for you a deed of donation."

"Oh, my most revered sir, how kind and generous you are!" said Schwarzenberg, "and how you shame me with your magnanimity and goodness! With grateful and submissive heart I accept your gift, and shall this very day tear to pieces both the bonds, and lay them at your Electoral Highness's feet."

"By no means, Adam," said the Elector, almost indignantly, "for then I should not have presented you with Huissen and Neustadt, but you would have paid for them!"

"Then, at least, let me add now another sum, most honored sir, and condescend to accept from me fifty thousand dollars without writing an acknowledgement of debt."

"Will you lend me fifty thousand dollars?" asked the Elector, joyfully surprised.

"I received important remittances of money from my mastership Sonnenburg, and have also saved something from my estates," said the count. "It is true for the time being I have nothing left for myself, but it is better that the servant should suffer privation than his lord. I shall have the honor of transmitting to your highness this very day the fifty thousand dollars in specie and reliable bills of exchange."

"And I shall immediately write you a receipt for them with my own hand," cried the Elector, hastening with youthful speed to his writing table, and grasping paper and pen. With alacrity he dashed off a few words on the paper, moistened a great wafer, laid paper over it, and, pasting it beneath the writing, pressed his great signet upon it.

"There is the deed," he said; "take it, Schwarzenberg, and send me the money."

But the count refused the proffered paper, smilingly waving it off with his hand, while reverentially taking one step backward.

"First the money and then the deed," he said; "all must be in order, gracious sir, and you shall not acknowledge yourself a debtor ere you have received your money."

"Oh! how well I feel all at once!" cried the Elector, "and what a free, glad consciousness I have again in no longer feeling myself a poor debtor, but once more knowing that I have money in my pockets. Now we will give orders for our servants to be paid off; then we will pay the Electoral Prince's debts, and send him money for his traveling expenses, that he may come home and have no pretext for refusal and delay."

"Your highness ought to send another chamberlain to persuade the Electoral Prince in a friendly manner to return," said the count. "There is, for example, Herr von Marwitz, a peculiarly polished and clever gentleman, and in good standing with the Electress and all favorers of the Swedes, but withal a faithful servant of his honored lord."

"Yes, Marwitz shall set off for The Hague, and to-day, too," replied the Elector, with animation. "Marwitz shall bring back my son to me, and I shall exhort and command him under penalty of my wrath to take no excuses whatever, and to enter into no further explanations. He shall pay his debts, take my son money for his journey, and say to the Electoral Prince that my accumulated wrath as father and Elector will fall upon and crush him if he does not now obey me. I will have an obedient and submissive son, with whom my will is law, else it were better that I had no son! This very day Marwitz shall set out."

"I beg the favor of your Electoral Highness to defer the departure of the Chamberlain von Marwitz until to-morrow," pleaded the count. "Your grace will without doubt desire to write a few words to your son; the Electress, too, will doubtless avail herself of the opportunity to communicate with her son and dear relatives; and I also have a few dispatches to prepare for our envoys there. Most humbly, therefore, I beseech you that Marwitz may not commence his journey to The Hague until to-morrow or the day after."

"To-morrow then be it, Adam, to-morrow he must start."

"Then your highness and the Electress must prepare your letters to-day, and—candidly speaking, I had a great request to make of your Electoral Grace. I have arranged a little hunting party for to-day, and would esteem it an especial favor if your highness would do me the honor to take part in it."

"I shall do so gladly, most gladly!" cried George William, delighted. "I could desire no more pleasant diversion for the present day than a little hunting party, and you know that well, Adam, and understand splendidly how to guess at my wishes. Yes, we shall hunt—but I have no dogs. Mine were all left behind in Prussian, and the head huntsman informs me that the pack of dogs in this place is in very bad condition. I want a hunter and a strong fellow, such a capital boarhound as I have long wished for but have never been able to find."

"I hope that I have found such an one for your highness," said the count, smiling. "I have had inquiries instituted everywhere, and learned that there was a capital animal at Stargard, in Pomerania. I immediately dispatched a special messenger to Herr von Schwiebus, to whom the animal belongs, and in your highness's name asked the purchase price of the boarhound, and requested that they would send the creature along for your inspection."

"And he is here, the boarhound?" asked the Elector, with sparkling eyes. "Adam, you do indeed understand how to rejoice my heart and guess my wishes. Where is the boarhound? Let me see him."

"Most gracious sir, Herr von Schwiebus seems perfectly wrapped up in this animal, and at first would not hear at all of parting with him; indeed, he was quite angry with Count Henkel for having told me of his precious possession. Only when he heard that it was your Electoral Grace who wished to make the purchase, he softened down a little, and sent a picture which he has had taken of his favorite, in order that your highness might form an idea of the animal and decide whether it would really please you."

"Have you the picture with you, Adam?" asked the Elector eagerly.

The count hurried to the door and took from the little table standing there a roll of paper, which he had laid there on his entrance. He unfolded it, spread it out on a table, and on each corner of the paper placed a weight.

"I entreat your highness just to observe the portrait of the beautiful animal," he begged.

The Elector hastily approached, and an expression of joyful surprise escaped from his lips at the sight of this picture, which, executed with tolerable artistic skill in water colors, represented a large and finely shaped hound, with massive head, clipped ears, and long tail.

"Adam, that is a wonderful animal!" cried the Elector, after a pause of mute rapture. "That boarhound I must have, let it cost what it will. Tell me the price, Adam, the price for this divine creature."

"Most gracious Elector, Herr von Schwiebus seems to be a queer fellow. He said the dog would not seem dear to him in exchange for all the money in the world. If, however, your highness insisted upon buying him, he would give him up on condition that in payment for the dog he might cut down in the electoral forests three thousand trees of his own selection."[16]

"He shall have his price, yes, he shall have it!" cried the Elector, his eyes fixed immovably upon the portrait. "Send forthwith a courier from me to Herr von Schwiebus, and have him notified that I buy the boarhound for three thousand trees, which he may select and fell from my Letzling forest. He shall, conformably with his terms, immediately send me the boarhound. Make haste, Adam, and attend to this matter for me; I long so to have the beautiful creature here. And as regards the Electoral Prince, we will put off Marwitz's departure until the day after to-morrow, for we shall not have time for letter writing to-day on account of the hunting party, and that will occasion the delay of one more day."



VI.—REVELATIONS.

"Not until the day after to-morrow will Marwitz set out on his journey," said Count Schwarzenberg contentedly to himself, when he had left the Elector, and was once more alone in his own cabinet. "Not until the day after to-morrow! So Gabriel Nietzel will have three days the start of him, and, moreover, he can travel more rapidly. The only thing to be considered now is, what shall be the nature of his errand there? We shall at once deliberate as to what will be best!"

Long did he pace the floor of his cabinet with bowed head and arms crossed upon his chest; then all of a sudden he whistled for his valet, and ordered him to look for Master Gabriel Nietzel, and to bring him in at once.

"Your grace," replied the valet, "Master Nietzel has just come into the antechamber, and requests an audience of you."

"Admit him. But first I have a few tasks to give you. Listen!" he beckoned the valet to come nearer, and softly and hurriedly communicated his instructions. "And now," he concluded, "now let the master enter, and then make haste to do what I have told you."

"Well," cried the count, when a few minutes later Gabriel Nietzel entered the cabinet—"well, now tell me, master, what brings you here so early. My appointment with you was not until this evening."

"Forgive me, your excellency, but in the joy of my heart I thought you might perhaps bestow a moment upon me. I only wished to let your excellency know that it has turned out exactly as I hoped. I communicated to the Electress my purpose of making an artist's tour into Holland. Her highness seemed highly delighted at the idea, and gave me an open note to the Electoral Prince, introducing me to her son as a skillful portrait painter."

"Just show me this note."

The painter handed him a small, neatly folded paper, which the count tore open and perused with a rapid glance.

"Nothing more, in fact, than a very warm recommendation," he said. "And this is all?"

"No, your excellency, the best part is yet to come. The Electress has appointed me her court painter. I receive the same salary as the recently deceased court painter, Mathias Ezizeken, namely, a yearly income of fifty dollars, board and rent free, with two suits of new clothes annually." [17]

"Now, indeed, you may well be content," laughed the count; "that is truly a magnificent appointment, and henceforth you become a prominent man at court here! But tell me, master, do you still accept in addition the little stipend I have allotted you?"

"Your excellency, I esteem myself happy indeed that your grace has granted it to me."

"And my treasurer has paid out to you the three thousand ducats?"

"Yes, your excellency, he has paid them out to me, and I am now released from all cares."

"You have only one care left, master," said Count Schwarzenberg—"this one care, that I may some day denounce you as a shameful deceiver, who has sold me a bad copy of his own manufacture for an original, and be assured that this deception may bring you to the gallows at any time if I choose it."

"But, most gracious sir," stammered the painter, pale as death, "I thought you had forgiven me, and—"

"Forgiven, so long as you are a faithful and obedient servant," replied the count, in a severe tone—"forgiven, so long as I can count upon your submission; but forget, that I shall never do. And at the slightest mistake, the least resistance to my commands, I shall remember what a cheat and good-for-nothing you are, and take back my forgiveness. You have the three thousand ducats, but you have not yet given a receipt for them. Sit you down there at my table and write the receipt. I will dictate it to you myself."

Like an obedient slave Gabriel Nietzel slunk to the table, sank down before it, took the pen which the count handed him, and placed it on the paper put before him.

"Write," ordered the count, and with loud voice he dictated: "I, Gabriel Nietzel, painter by profession, hereby affirm that I have this day received from his excellency the Stadtholder in the Mark, Count Schwarzenberg, the sum of three thousand ducats in ready money. This money is the price paid for a painting by Titiano Vecellio, representing the goddess of beauty with a Cupid, who presents Venus her looking-glass. I bought this picture at Cremona for two thousand ducats, and I vow and swear upon my conscience and by all that I hold sacred that this painting, which I have sold to the count for an original painting, is actually an original painting by Titiano Vecellio's own hand."

"Now, master, why do you hesitate? Why do you not write?"

"Oh, sir, have some pity upon me!" groaned the painter. "I can not write that. I can not swear that it is an original by all I hold sacred."

"Why, what does it signify?" laughed the count; "paper is lenient. The advantage to me is only that I can by means of this receipt prove to connoisseurs and picture lovers that I have bought an original painting from you. For the rest, if you will not write, why then, very good. I shall have you arrested on the spot, inform the Electress of what a deceiver you are, have the three thousand ducats forthwith taken away again, and keep you in prison until the suit is made out against you; then you shall be hung conformably with law and usage."

"Mercy, your excellency, mercy!" gasped Nietzel. "I am writing even now!"

And with trembling hands he completed the receipt, and, on the count's further command, subscribed his name.

Schwarzenberg read it over attentively. "This is a document, my dear painter," he said, smiling, "that may some day bring you to the gallows, for, only see, I have other confirmatory evidence."

From a casket on his table he drew forth a roll of parchment, to which were attached two great seals, hanging by silken strings, and while he unrolled it he beckoned the painter to come near. "See," he said, "this is a testimonial which I have had made out for me at Venice by the Duke di Grimani, affirming that Titian's Venus is his property, and that you spent three months in his palace painting a copy of the original. You see well, dear court-painter Nietzel, that you are completely in my hands, and that I can have you strung up at any time, for the Stadtholder makes short work of cheats and perjurers, and sends them off to the gallows, where they belong! Now say, master, will you to the gallows or will you live in honor and joy as the Electress's court painter and my secret pensioner, my open foe? I give you free choice. Make your own unbiased decision."

"I have no longer any choice," groaned Gabriel Nietzel. "Your excellency well knows that I have no choice. I love life; I have not courage to die, therefore I am your slave."

"Not at all; you are court painter to her highness the Electress, and shall retain your office if you behave yourself wisely and discreetly. This very day you set out on your journey to Holland."

A flash of joy gleamed in the painter's eyes, and his brow cleared. The count remarked it and laughed aloud.

"Oh, my dear! I guess your thoughts," he cried. "You think that when you are in Holland I can no longer reach you, and you will take good care not to put yourself in my power again. But know that my arm is far-reaching, and that I have spies and agents everywhere, who are very devoted to me because I pay them well. They will find you out wherever you are, and no jurisdiction would refuse delivering up to me a criminal if I demanded him. But besides that, Master Gabriel Nietzel, I hold here a sure pledge for your valuable person."

"What sort of pledge does your excellency mean?" inquired Nietzel anxiously.

"Why, I mean the fair Rebecca, whom you brought with you from the Ghetto of Venice, and whom it pleases you here to give out to be your wife, married at Venice. I hope, however, that you have not committed so heinous a sin as to take a Jewess to wife, for then you should not escape with the gallows, but should be burned at the stake with your cursed Jewess, your bold paramour."

Master Nietzel answered not a word. With a loud groan he sank upon a chair, and covered his face with both his hands, weeping aloud.

"Your fair Rebecca stays behind here with your boy," continued Count Schwarzenberg; "and that she may be in perfect safety and never lack for my protection, I shall have her brought to Spandow, my usual place of residence. There she shall live, well watched and cared for, and there remain until your return. If, however, you have then proved yourself to be a good and obedient servant, I will myself restore to you your Rebecca, and nobody shall dare to molest you."

"Tell me what I have to do, your excellency," said the painter, with cold, desperate decision. "I am ready and willing for everything, for I love my Rebecca and my son, and I will deserve them."

"And it will not be made hard for you, master. You go, then, to Holland, introduce yourself to the Electoral Prince through the Electress's letter of recommendation, and try to make yourself as agreeable and charming to him as possible. When you have succeeded in that, lament to him that life in Holland does not suit you at all, that you are homesick, and entreat most earnestly that the Electoral Prince include you in his traveling suite. This he will naturally do, and you will accompany him on his journey home. Have you understood me, and paid good heed to all my words, Master Nietzel?"

"Yes, your excellency, I have noted each word."

"And you have found without doubt that it is by no means a difficult thing that I require of you. But the journey back, Master Nietzel, the journey back is a very dangerous and bad affair. You know, so many freebooters rove about everywhere, and Westphalia especially is swarming with Swedes and Hessians. If such a troop of soldiers knew beforehand that the Electoral Prince was coming that way, they would certainly lie in wait for him and fall upon him, either for purposes of plunder or in order to carry him off and extort a high ransom for him. The Electoral Prince will not passively submit to capture, but will resist; a battle will ensue, and then it might easily happen that in the heat of conflict a dagger should pierce the Prince or a ball go through his head. Those Swedes and Hessians are wild, fierce soldiers, and the Prince is in perpetual danger, especially in Westphalia. You must represent this to the Electoral Prince, and, to prove to him your zeal and love, you will entreat permission always to go a few hours in advance of him to make sure that the way is free and the Electoral Prince is threatened by no danger. He will therefore each morning acquaint you with the course of his route, and where to arrange night quarters for him, and the point where you shall rejoin him again. You are to precede the Electoral Prince as courier, and if, some day, he should be attacked at a wild spot on the road by a troop of Swedish or Hessian soldiery, robbed, taken prisoner, or even killed, that is no fault of yours, and no one could blame you on that account, for you have proved and evidenced your zeal in the most striking manner. You have comprehended me, Master Nietzel? Have you paid good heed to my words?"

"Yes, your excellency, I have paid good heed, and understood everything well," returned Master Gabriel, on whose brow the sweat stood in great drops.

"Well, I have only this to add: Should the unfortunate accident really happen that the Electoral Prince is attacked by robbers and killed in Westphalia or somewhere else, then look to it, that you be found that day among his defenders, and bear off as token some wound received—for instance, a sabre thrust on the right arm. With this true sign of your valor and your faithfulness come here to Berlin, and be assured that no one shall dare to suspect you when he witnesses your grief and especially your sabre thrust. It need be no deep wound, and surely the fair Rebecca has a healing balm which she can apply to you. Besides, the Electress will protect you, and be certain that I will stand by you with all my might and influence. And now, master, we have concluded all our business, and you will set out in an hour. I permit you, however, first to take leave of your fair Rebecca and the pretty child. Only, you must not be alone again with the beautiful woman, and therefore I have given orders that your wife and son be brought here. You will be pleased to stay so long at my chamberlain's house; luncheon shall be served there for yourself and your family, and you can take it in the presence of my chamberlain. I have already imparted to you the needed commands, and taken care to have your wife and child fetched directly here. A vehicle is also prepared, ready to convey your wife to Spandow; I have a good, trustworthy housekeeper in my house there, and with her the two can dwell, and shall want for nothing, except it be yourself."

"Most gracious sir," said Gabriel Nietzel, with an expression of deep anguish, "I love my wife and child above everything, and am prepared to suffer and endure everything for them. But if I returned home and found my wife sick, or dead, or, what were yet worse, found her—

"Well, why do you hesitate, master? Faithless, found her faithless, would you say—well, what then?"

"Well, then life would have no value at all to me," said Gabriel Nietzel firmly and decidedly. "Then would it be quite indifferent to me whether I were hanged or burned; then would I desire nothing but to die, and—before my death to avenge myself."

"Ah! I understand you quite well, master, and know you well. You please me uncommonly with your energetic defiance and your hidden threat. In return I, too, will give you an open, candid answer. Master Gabriel Nietzel, I am no enamored fool, who runs after every apronstring, or generally takes any special pleasure in women. I have neither time nor inclination for that, and leave such things to the young, the idle, and men who have no ambition and no head, but only a heart. I, Master Gabriel, have no heart at all, or at least none now any longer, and I herewith give you my word of honor as a nobleman and gentleman that your lovely Rebecca has nothing to dread from me. On the contrary, I shall have her watched and guarded, as if she were a ward intrusted to me, for whose honor I held myself responsible."

"I thank your excellency—I thank you with my whole heart," said Gabriel Nietzel, breathing more freely; "and now you shall find me ready and willing to execute your commands faithfully and punctiliously."

"It rejoices me, master, it rejoices me to see what a tender husband, or rather lover, you are. I repeat to you, you need feel no anxiety about your Rebecca. She will find herself quite secure in my society, while I fear that the Electoral Prince will have but little safety in your society, but be very often in danger."

"I fear so, too, your excellency," said Gabriel Nietzel, with a feeble effort to smile.

"But a good old proverb has it, 'All they that take the sword shall perish by the sword,'" continued the count. "It is not your fault, master, if the Electoral Prince does not know this proverb. Now farewell, master, and be of good courage, for another good proverb says, 'Fortune smiles on the brave.' Go now, master, my chamberlain awaits you in the antechamber."

"I am going, your excellency," said Gabriel Nietzel humbly. "May almighty God be with us all, and guard my wife and child!"

He bowed low and reverentially, then strode hastily toward the door.

"Gabriel Nietzel, one word more!" called out the count, as the painter stood with his hand already upon the door knob. He turned and slowly came back. "Master Gabriel Nietzel," continued the count, with a mocking laugh, "be so good as to give me the Electress's letter."

The painter drew forth his leather pocketbook, took out the open letter of recommendation, and handed it to the count.

But the latter smilingly rejected it. "You may keep that, master; I have already read that. The other, the second missive from the Electress, you must give me."

Gabriel Nietzel shrank back, and gazed into the count's large, glittering eyes.

"The other writing," he murmured, "the second writing?"

"Why, yes, master, that secret writing, which you have naturally promised to shield with the last drop of your blood, and to hand inviolate into the hands of the Electoral Prince. My God! we know how often such oaths are made, and that hardly one has ever been kept. You have not been made court painter for nothing, with your salary of fifty dollars, free rent, and two suits of clothes. You must give something in return. Give me that second writing of the Electress, the one which you have sworn to hand only to the Electoral Prince; or rather, no, you shall not forswear yourself. Just tell me where you have stuck it, and I shall take it for myself."

"Your excellency, it sticks in my left breast pocket," whispered Gabriel Nietzel. The count laughed aloud, and with one movement drew forth from Master Gabriel's left breast pocket a small packet, wound round with silken strings. With cautious hand, extremely solicitous not to break the string, he untied it, and took out the paper found beneath. Within this, indeed, lay a small, well-sealed letter.

"'To my dear son, the Electoral Prince Frederick William,'" read the count, with loud voice. "You see, I was not mistaken. It is the Electress's handwriting, and it is directed to the Electoral Prince."

"And I have solemnly sworn to give it into no other hands than his," murmured the painter.

"You shall keep your oath, Master Gabriel. Now go into the antechamber. My chamberlain awaits you there, and perhaps your fair Rebecca is also there already!"

"But my letter, your excellency—shall I not have my letter again?"

"Certainly, master, you shall have it again. In a half hour I shall come out myself and give it to you. Oh, fear nothing. The Prince will not suspect that any strange hand has touched it. Indeed, it concerns me very nearly that the Electoral Prince should put confidence in you, and be convinced of your honesty and good faith. Go now, master, I shall bring the secret epistle back to you unscathed, and put it again into your left breast pocket."

When Master Gabriel Nietzel had crept out slowly and sorrowfully, the count hastened to his writing table, took up flint, tinder, and steel, and made the sparks fly until one fired the tinder and made it glow. Now he held a splinter of wood to the glowing tinder, and by its flame lighted the wax taper in the golden candlestick. Then he quickly fetched, from a secret drawer of his writing table, a small knife with a fine thin blade, heated this at the light, and carefully and adroitly slipped it under the great electoral seal, which he carefully detached from the letter. He laid it carefully upon a small marble slab, and opened the letter. It was a very long, confidential communication from the Electress to her beloved son. With closest attention the count read it twice, and then with great pains folded it up again.

"It is just as I thought," he said softly to himself: "the Electress wishes the longer absence of her son. She intimates to him that she will not be displeased if he marries there, and even promises that she will soften his father's wrath. She counsels him not to come here, and warns him against the evil spirit who has ensnared his father's heart, and surely aims at the life of her dear and noble son. Well, it must be confessed, the Electress is on the right trail. Her mother's instinct gives her insight into the future, and makes her a prophetess. I know it very well, Electress: we two have never loved one another, and have carried on a bitter warfare against each other for twenty years, in which, however, God be thanked, Schwarzenberg has always come off victorious. I hope, too, it will continue to be so, and this letter will furnish me with a good weapon. I shall take a copy of it. Who knows what use I may make of it one of these days, and out of this paper fashion a dagger which may turn against the writer and against the receiver, if it reaches the hands of the Electoral Prince. Yes, I shall take a copy, and then restore the original to its envelope and affix the seal. And Master Gabriel shall take it to you, my dear Prince. Oh, take heed, and be upon your guard, Frederick William, for your respected mother is right. I am your evil spirit, and I can only stand if you fall; therefore, fall you must! Oh, I have learned much to-day, and received many a good lesson. 'It is better,' so said the Elector to me—'it is better that I have no son than a disobedient son, who resists my will.' But he shall resist you, Elector George William—he will be disobedient to you, and I shall do my part toward making him so. Then how said Count Lesle: 'If the son becomes the father's enemy, then it must be contrived to render the father the son's enemy; thus will the equilibrium be preserved.' Oh, my dear Count Lesle, I know very well the history of Philip of Spain and his disobedient and rebellious son Don Carlos. Take care, take care, Electoral Prince Frederick William, that you share not the fate of Don Carlos, and that your father punish you not as King Philip did his son!"



BOOK II.

I.—THE DOUBLE RENDEZVOUS.

The Princess Ludovicka Hollandine walked restlessly to and fro in her apartment. Sometimes she stopped at the window and listened intently; then, finding all without still dark and silent, she stepped back and continued her restless walk, at times listening again at door or window. While passing the great Venetian mirror on the wall, on both sides of which were placed two silver candlesticks with immense burning wax tapers, she caught sight of her image as brightly and distinctly as if it had been a portrait, and she drew nearer, like a connoisseur bent on examining a picture. She saw before her within the carved gilt framework a beautiful maiden's form, in sky-blue satin robe that fell in wide, heavy folds around her full and blooming figure. The low-necked bodice left wholly uncovered her dazzling white shoulders, and beneath the transparent gauze of her sleeves shone the fair white arms as from out a silver cloud. Her head rested proudly and gracefully upon the slender alabaster neck, and was crowned by a profusion of black hair, caught up behind in great loops, and fastened with bows of blue satin ribbon. On the broad and lofty brow it was massed in the form of a diadem, with numberless pretty little ringlets. Her cheeks were pale, but of that clear, transparent paleness which has nothing in common with sickness and suffering, but is only peculiar to vehement, passionate natures, with whom the cheeks are colorless, because all the blood concentrates in the heart. Her large dark eyes had at the same time a languid, melting expression and the fire and glow of passion; the finely cut, slightly curved nose, the firm, somewhat projecting chin, indicated energy and decision; and around the full, rosy lips hovered a singular expression of good nature and frivolity.

She contemplated herself for a long time, then a well-pleased smile passed over her fascinating countenance. "I am beautiful," she said, "yes, I am beautiful, and I believe those are right who suppose that I resemble my great-grand-mother, the beautiful Mary Stuart. O Mary! you beautiful, bewitching Queen—oh teach me the arts which won for you the hearts of all men; inspire me with the glow of passion, let it flash forth from me in bright flames, and grant that these flames may kindle and fire the one I love, whom I will possess, and on whom all my hopes and desires are fixed! But hush! did I not hear steps?"

She again hurried to the window and listened, holding her breath. A shrill, thrice-repeated whistle was heard, sounding strangely awful in the stillness of the night.

"It is he," murmured the Princess, "it is the concerted signal."

She took from a table standing near a package consisting of cords and knots, and unrolled it. It was a rope ladder, twisted artfully and durably of fine cords, and held together at the top by a strong iron ring. This ring the Princess now slipped over the iron hook which was fixed in the middle of the cross work of the window, and lowered the rope ladder, while at the same time, as if in answer, she repeated the whistle in the same manner. Then she bounded back from the window, flew through the room to both doors, assured herself that the bolts were secured, and with hasty hands dropped the curtains over them.

"No one can hear us, no one can see us, no one can get in here," she murmured; "he may come."

A slight rustling was heard below the window, then a dark mass appeared in the open space, and a closely muffled manly form jumped from the windowsill down into the apartment. Wholly enveloped in the folds of an ample black cloak, whose hood was thrown over the head and drawn far over the face, it was impossible to recognize the visitor's features.

The person thus disguised curiously and inquisitively turned his head to both sides of the room, strode rapidly across it, lifted the curtains from both doors, examined the fastenings of the bolts, went to the divan, peered under it, and, after completing this silent inspection of the chamber, returned to the window, loosened the cord from the hook, drew in the rope-ladder, and closed the window.

Princess Ludovicka Hollandine, standing in the middle of the apartment, had watched this singular demeanour on the part of the mysterious intruder with growing astonishment. She had first held out her arms to greet the expected, the longed-for, to press him to her beating heart, but, finding that he came not to embrace her, she had slowly dropped her arms again. She had looked toward him with a tender glance, a fascinating smile, but when he hastened not to her, her glance had grown dark and her smile had vanished; and now, when he did approach her, she assumed an air of distant, proud reserve. He seemed not to see it, and, bending his knee before her, his head being still concealed, he pressed the hem of her garment reverentially to his lips.

"Most beautiful, most condescending of all princesses," he whispered softly, "I sue for pardon, for forgiveness."

The Princess shrank back, and a glowing flush overspread her cheeks. "My God!" she murmured, "that is not the voice—"

"Not the voice of the one whom your highness desires to see," said the kneeling figure, concluding her sentence for her. "Yes, most amiable Princess, your tender, sensitive heart is not deceived. I am not the Electoral Prince of Brandenburg. I am—"

"Count d'Entragues, the French ambassador," cried the Princess, as the disguised man now threw back the hood of his mantle, and lifted up to her his youthfully handsome, smiling face.

"Scream not, most gracious lady," said he, hastily, "and do not scold me, either; but be merciful and forgive me. I lie here at your feet and entreat for pardon, and will not rise until you have granted it."

The Princess still kept her astonished and inquiring glance fixed upon him, but the sight of this handsome young man, disarmed her wrath.

"Stand up, Count d'Entragues," she said—"stand up and account to me for this daring crime."

"Your highness is right," returned he, "it is a daring crime, and only the extremest necessity could have driven me to this. I shall immediately therefore have the honor of explaining all this to the lovely, bewitching Princess Ludovicka Hollandine."

With youthful agility he arose from his knees, took off his cloak, which he carelessly threw into a corner of the apartment, and presented himself to the Princess in a gold-embroidered velvet suit, richly trimmed with lace and ribbons. Ludovicka fixed her large eyes upon the proud and dazzling apparition of the young count, and the angry flashing of her eyes softened.

"Sir Count," she said, imperiously, "without evasion and without circumlocution explain to me directly the meaning of this!"

"You permit me to do so, then, fairest Princess? You thereby empower me to remain a half hour in your charming presence?"

And while the count thus questioned, he took the hand of the Princess and covered it with kisses. Then, with graceful gallantry and solemn seriousness, as if they had been in the midst of a grand courtly assemblage, he conducted her to the divan. There she seated herself, and he bowed before her with all the formality and obsequiousness of a courtier as he took his place beside her.

"Now your highness desires to know above all things how I can have dared to intrude here at so unusual an hour, and without the shadow of permission," he said with his mellifluous, insinuating voice. "Most gracious Princess, I confess that you are well justified in this curiosity, and I hasten to gratify it. Your grace expected a visitor indeed, but not the tiresome, unbidden Count d'Entragues—not the ambassador and servant of King Louis XIII or Cardinal Richelieu, but you expected an eloquent, handsome young Prince, who loves the Princess Ludovicka Hollandine with passionate enthusiasm, and to whom after long and vain entreaties she has at last granted a rendezvous."