A GERMAN POMPADOUR [Illustration: WILHELMINE REICHSGRÄFIN VON GRÄVENITZ. _From a Portrait in the collection of Frau Anna Remshardtat Heilbronn. _] A GERMAN POMPADOUR Being the Extraordinary History of WILHELMINE VON GRÄVENITZ LANDHOFMEISTERIN OF WIRTEMBERG A NARRATIVE OFTHE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY BY MARIE HAY AUTHOR OF 'DIANNE DE POYTIERS' AND'AN UNREQUITED LOYALTY' [Illustration] SECOND IMPRESSIONNEW YORKCHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS1906 Edinburgh: T. And A. CONSTABLE, Printers to His Majesty THISBOOK OF MEMORIESIS DEDICATED TO A MEMORY PREFACE 'The Past that is not overpast, But present here. ' IN a dusty, time-soiled packet of legal papers which had lain untouchedfor nigh upon two hundred years, the extraordinary history of Wilhelminevon Grävenitz is set forth in all the colourless reticence of officialdocuments. And yet something of the thrill of the superstitious fear, andthe virtuous disapproval of the lawyers who composed these writings, pierces through the stilted phrases. Like a faint fragrance of fadedrose-leaves, a breath of this woman's charm seems to cling and elusivelyto peep out of the curt record of her crimes. Enough at least to incitethe wanderer in History's byways to a further study of this potent Germanforerunner of the Pompadour. To search through the Stuttgart archives, to ferret out forgotten booksin dusty old book-shops, to fit together the links in the chain of eventsof the woman's story, to haunt the scenes of bygone splendour in desertedpalace and castle, old-world garden and desolate mansion; such has beenthe delightful labour which has gone to the telling of the true historyof the Grävenitz. The Land-despoiler the downtrodden peasantry andindignant burghers named her, for they hated her as their sort must everhate the beautiful, elegant, haughty woman of the great world. Theycalled her sinner, which she was; and she called them canaille, whichthey probably were. And traces of all this linger in Württemberg. [1] They still deem theCountess Grävenitz a subject to be mentioned with bated breath--a thingtoo evil, too terrible, for polite conversation. The very guides atLudwigsburg slur over her name, and if they go so far as to mention her, they say: 'Ja, das war aber eine schlimme Dame, ' and turn the talk tosomething else. But her memory lives magnificently in the great palacebuilt for her, in her little 'Château Joyeux' of La Favorite, and in themany beautiful properties which belonged to this extravagantLand-despoiler. She came to Württemberg when the country was at a lowfinancial ebb. Louis XIV. Had preyed upon the land for years. Robberraids they called these wars which he waged for trumped-up pretexts. After these invasions came the war of the Spanish succession, andWürttemberg lying on the high-road from France to Austria, thebelligerent armies swept over the Swabian land on their way to battle. The Duke of Württemberg, loyal to his Suzerain the Emperor at Vienna, joined in the fray and fought bravely at the side of Marlborough andEugene of Savoy against the French terror. When Blenheim had been foughtand won, the war-tide swept northwards to the Netherlands, leavingSouthern Germany for the nonce at rest, and Eberhard Ludwig ofWürttemberg repaired to Stuttgart to attend to his Duchy's government. Now began the love-story of his life, the long-drawn episode which madehis name a target for the gossip and scandal of early eighteenth-centuryGermany; the episode which changed the simple, stiff family life of theWürttemberg ducal circle to a brilliant, festive court, which travellerstell us in their memoirs vied in magnificence with the glories ofVersailles itself. M. H. STUTTGART, 1905. CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE I. THE INTRIGUE, 1 II. THE AVE MARIA, 13 III. THE FIRST STEP, 27 IV. THE JOURNEY, 50 V. THE PLAY-ACTING, 68 VI. LOVE'S SPRINGTIDE, 82 VII. THE FULFILMENT, 90 VIII. THE GHETTO, 103 IX. 'SHE COMES TO STAY THIS TIME, ' 116 X. THE ATTACK IN THE GROTTO, 129 XI. THE MOCK MARRIAGE, 153 XII. THE MOCK COURT, 167 XIII. THE DUCHESS'S BLACK ROOMS, 181 XIV. THE SECOND MARRIAGE, 196 XV. THE RETURN, 212 XVI. LUDWIGSBURG, 224 XVII. THE BURNING IN EFFIGY, 242XVIII. THE SINNER'S PALACE, 261 XIX. THE GREAT TRIUMPH AND THE SHADOW, 279 XX. SATIETY, 302 XXI. THE DOWNFALL, 325 XXII. REST, 350 A GERMAN POMPADOUR CHAPTER I THE INTRIGUE 'Es ist eine Hofkabale. '--SCHILLER. ON the outskirts of the village of Oberhausen in South Wirtemberg standsa deserted house. Rats are its only denizens now; rats and the 'poorghosts, ' so the peasants say. Two hundred years ago this eerie mansionwas occupied by living men and women, perchance the ghosts of to-day. Whocan tell? But I, who have grown to love them, having studied the depthsof their hearts, I pray that they may rest them well in their graves, andthat the Neuhaus ghosts be not my friends of 1705. It was a fitting place for intrigues this Neuhaus, standing as it did sonear in actual mileage to the court of Stuttgart, and hard by the Jesuitcentre of Rottenburg. The high-road was close at hand, yet Neuhaus, shutoff by peaceful fields, was hidden from the passer-by, and here began thegreat intrigue, as it was called then. Of a truth the plot, as it wasconceived, was no mighty thing; it was designed, as many another gossamerweb of court gallantry and petty pecuniary gain, for obscure individuals;but great it became through the potent will of a woman. On a dreary November afternoon of the year 1705, a party of four wasassembled in the Neuhaus, the seldom-used country mansion of Madame deRuth, an important personage at Stuttgart's court, and of Monsieur deRuth, an undistinguished character, who played no rôle that we know of, save to bequeath his ancient name--and the Neuhaus--to his relict. The house was a long, two-storied building, with large, black woodenbeams showing quaintly outside against the white plastered walls; it wasno imposing structure, but a certain air of melancholy aloofness lent itdistinction. A high wall shut off the village street on the one side, while to thesouth and east the mansion was surrounded by a garden. A row ofbeech-trees grew close to the windows, a narrow pathway led from a sidedoor across the garden to a vast orchard. It was doubtless a beautifulspot in spring or summer, but on this November afternoon it wasinexpressibly dreary. The rain had beaten down the unkempt grass, whichlay in draggled sheaves along the edges of the pathway. Brown, fallenbeech leaves made a sodden carpet around the tree-roots; the treesthemselves, bare and gaunt, lifted their grey, leafless branches towardsthe hurrying, wind-driven clouds. The wind moaned fitfully round thehouse; every now and then, as though in uncontrollable wrath, it brokeforth into a whistling howl. At intervals bursts of rain were borne bythe tempest against the windows, adding a hurried patter to the tappingof the long beech branches, which grew near enough to enable the wind todrive them against the window-panes, while the greater branches strainedand creaked in the blast. Rain-laden clouds swept across the sky, hastening the darkness of approaching night. It seemed strange that on sodesolate a gloaming the inmates of the Neuhaus had not drawn the curtainsto shut out the sadness of the storm-ravaged garden. The windows remainedlike despairing, unblinking eyes gazing at the desolate scene without. The room wherein was assembled the small company was unlit, save from theglow from the embers in the stove. The upper grating had been opened, andin the furnace a handful of half-dry wood sputtered and crackled, risingsometimes to a momentary flame, in whose glow four persons threwstrangely contorted shadows on the ceiling. But for this, and a faint, uncertain light which crept through the windows, the room was entirelydark. When the wood flared, a lady seated to the left of the stove cast acaricature-like shadow slantwise on the ceiling, her head seeminggigantic in its piled-up masses of elaborately dressed hair. In themiddle of the room was a huddled figure bending over the centre table. Itseemed to be a mere heap of dark garments. The firelight caught andillumined a white ruffle and large pale hand belonging to this figure, but as it was flung out across the sombre covering of the table, the armwas invisible, and only the hand in the ruffled sleeve could be seen, andit seemed like some hideous dismembered thing. Outlined against thefading light stood a tall figure with an enormous ringleted wig fallingfar over the shoulders. When this being moved, his shadow, thrown uponthe ceiling by the embers' glow, appeared to join in the wavering, dance-like movements of the other shadows, and seemed like some ungainlymonster. One portion of the room was not reached either by light of fireor fading day, and out of this utter darkness came the sound of repressedsobbing, which alone revealed the presence of a fourth member of thislugubrious party. For many minutes the silence was unbroken save for thestealthy sobbing, the sough of the wind without, the pattering rain, andthe tap-tap of the twigs on the windows, sounding for all the world likethe fumbling of invisible fingers seeking for admittance. The man at thecentre table broke silence at length. 'Impossible!' he said in a harsh voice. 'Madame la Baronne cannot imaginewe can live in Stuttgart at the court, ' this last pompously, in spite ofthe real distress of the voice. 'How can we? on five hundred gulden ayear and debts to pay--alas! No! I must return to the army, only comingon leave once a year to fulfil my court appointment; and, Marie, you mustlive in Rottenburg with your mother while I am away. ' At this a figure moved out of the darkness behind the stove, and anotherfantastic shadow was cast upon the ceiling. 'Never, Friedrich! It is cruel to ask it. You know well enough that, ifyou did not gamble, we could live quite finely on what we have got. Yourduties as Kammerjunker need not keep you for ever in Stuttgart; we mightlive in Rottenburg. ' She clasped her hands, her voice trembled betweentears and anger. 'Rottenburg----' The man's voice was full of scorn, vibrating withderision. 'Ah! yes!--Mass each morning, and----' 'Friedrich, I will never let you return to the army; rather would Ihumble myself before that wicked woman, Madame de Geyling, and beg herto influence Serenissimus to give you a higher and better paidappointment. I tell you----' 'Madame, ' broke in a deep voice, and the figure at the window movedforward, 'there are other ways of gaining gold at court; a beautifulwoman need never be poor, I can vouch----' 'Monsieur de Stafforth!' almost shouted the first speaker, 'you addressmy wife! I am poor, but the honour of a wife of a Grävenitz shall not besmirched. ' 'Your pardon, Kammerjunker, but we were discussing necessities, notideals, and surely I proposed a great honour. Serenissimus is charming;besides, there are others----' The hostess, whose shadow we have seen on the ceiling, rose and joinedthe three disputants. 'My friends, only fools end their conclaves with quarrels. We have beendiscussing ways and means for the continuance of our friends Monsieur andMadame de Grävenitz's court life, and finding no practical scheme, hereis Grävenitz crying out that he will return to the army. Marie Grävenitz, after sobbing her heart out, flies into a rage and declares she will gowhining to that upstart Geyling! And you, Monsieur de Stafforth, Hofmarshall and successful courtier, propose terms to a young husband inso unpolished a fashion, that even a peasant would be obliged to retortwith the old affectation of a wife's honour and purity. Now hear me; Iknow the court better than you do----' The darkness hid the meaningsmiles which played over the lips of the others, for Frau von Ruth(Madame de Ruth as she was named at court, German being considered as alanguage only fitting for peasants' use) was well known to have aknowledge of court life not compatible with strictly decorous behaviour. 'Well! and I say to you, where there is a court there is always a way. And if you will so far honour me as to drink a bowl of punch to lightenour wits, we may find some solution of our friends' difficulties. Firstlet me call for lights, and let me shut out this dreary evening. Courage, my friends! I warrant we shall smile some day at our present desperatestraits, and meanwhile "to wait" is the verb we must conjugate. ' Madame de Ruth went to the door and called for light. A sullen-facedpeasant boy appeared, carrying two silver candlesticks of a handsome oldGerman design. He placed them on the middle table, and the feeble yellowflame of the waxen tapers shed a flicker into the long, gloomy room. Thenhe stood idly staring, with the heavy dull-wittedness of the Swabianpeasant. Madame de Ruth eyed him for a moment, with that half-humorous, half-pitying glance which she was wont to bestow on those she foundstupid. She was an odd-tempered, free-mannered woman, deeply crafty, absolutely unmoral, and yet with a true kindliness of heart and athorough understanding of human nature which, together with her readylaugh, her clever, indecorous anecdotes and sharp wit, made herattractive. For these traits people forgave her her ugly face and fiftyyears of a past even less reputable than was usual in the eighteenthcentury. In her early youth, it was whispered, the Duke Wilhelm Ludwig, father ofthe reigning Duke of Wirtemberg, had initiated her into the ways of theworld in general and of courts in particular; in gratitude wherefore shewas reputed to have performed the same office, twenty years later, forhis son Eberhard Ludwig. The Duke of Zollern, several Hohenlohes, andmany Gemmingens had been her slaves; not to mention other lessillustrious cavaliers to whom she had been rather more than kind. She wasnow a useful friend to princes, and new arrivals at court found herfriendship indispensable, especially if the new arrival happened to be alady with aspirations to royal favour and a career. Up to date thesecareers had been brilliant but short, and Madame de Ruth had generallyplayed an important part in each. 'Ah! Dieu! ces paysans, quelles brutes!' she said, as she looked at herservant; and then speaking in the rough Wirtemberg dialect she continued:'Heinrich, thy mother gave thee hands; God knows thy father did notforget thy big feet. Use both and bring the punch, as I told thee; or Iwill give thee hay for thy evening meal, as were fitting for an ass'sfeed!' This somewhat drastic speech seemed to please the lad and to stirup his slow wits, but the company looked surprised at the familiarity ofthe 'thou, ' it being the general custom in those days for superiors toaddress their inferiors in the third person singular. Directly to addressa serving-man or maid was deemed incorrect, for it would have betokenedan unfitting equality. However, Madame de Ruth's peasant lad respondedwith alacrity to his lady's homely speech, and in an astonishingly shorttime he reappeared with an enormous bowl of the steaming hot spirits--thepunch, which Marlborough's army had brought into fashion on theContinent, and which the damp of South Germany in the autumn made awelcome beverage. 'Come, my friends, and drink to the sharpening of our wits, which arestrangely dull this evening. I must announce to you that I await thevisit to-night of the Duke of Zollern, but this cruel weather has proved, I fear, too much even for his youthful sixty years. ' 'Madame, ' said Monsieur de Stafforth, 'if the Duke of Zollern does notbrave the elements, in order to visit you, he must indeed be feeling hissixty years. ' 'Stafforth, do not natter me in that tone. I adore flattery, but a stupidcompliment is worse than an insult. You know the Duke of Zollern andmyself have long ceased incommoding ourselves for each other's sakes, with the consequence that we are really friends. He sees me when hewishes, and I see him when I feel inclined. After twenty years _nousavons fini nos simagrées_; but after all, listen, I think I hear wheels. 'Her ugly old face flushed through the overlying paint and powder. Inspite of her protest, Madame de Ruth had a remnant of her youth--a poor, faded flower of sentiment for this old man. A huge lumbering coach drewup at the door, and therefrom descended a small and shrunken figure, witha wrinkled, dried-up face. A voluminous peruke fell over the paddedshoulders, rich lace ruffles adorned the sleeves of the brown satinlongcoat, a waistcoat of heavily embroidered brocade reached far down, nearly to the shrunken knees, below which were a pair of calves thin aspipe-stems and adorned with brown silken hose; the shoes were of brownleather with high, red heels and enormous ribbon rosettes and diamondbuckles. One withered hand held a cane with a china top, on which, couldyou have examined it, you would have found mythological subjects depictedwith much delicacy of workmanship, but less delicacy of sentiment. A beauindeed, elegant, lavish, and with that air for the which Monsieur deStafforth, adventurer and burgher by birth, would have given many a yearof his successful climbing career to have possessed even a shade, --theindescribable and inimitable air of the Grand Seigneur. Madame de Ruth met this gentleman at the door of her abode, her peasantservant standing behind her, holding a flaring torch to light the entryof his Grace. She curtseyed deeply, and Monsieur de Zollern, havingsuccessfully hobbled from his coach, returned her salute with sotremendous a bow, that the long feather of his three-cornered hat sweptthe floor. 'I had almost given up the expectation of your visit, Monseigneur, ' saidthe lady, 'but now you are here, the pleasure is all the greater'; and ashe bowed once more over her hand, she whispered: 'Pleasure you alwaysgave me, dear friend. ' 'Madame chère amie, those times are past, alas! Enfin! we can still laughtogether. ' They passed on through the gloomy corridor, and Madame de Ruth herselfthrew open the door of the salon, crying as she did so: 'The Duke ofZollern and Punch together must make even a dark day bright!' 'Madame, in these days the last title might describe me perfectly, ' hesaid. Then as he saw the inquiring look on the faces around him, headded: 'Autrefois j'étais polichon, aujourd'hui, hélas! ne suis-je qu'unvieux Polichinelle--"Punch" they call it in England. ' 'Monseigneur, Punch must be a pretty wit indeed if he be like yourGrace, ' said Stafforth, with his usual desire to ingratiate himself withthe great of the earth; but Monsieur de Zollern did not deign to answer. Like Madame de Ruth he preferred less directly expressed adulation. 'Thefine flavour of flattery is delicious, ' he was wont to aver, 'but likeall else in life, to practise it requires an expert or a genius. Opencompliments on any subject are like sausages, to be appreciated bypeasants and our greasy friends the burghers, but for us--we cannotdigest them!' So he looked away from Stafforth, giving his attention tothe Grävenitz couple. 'Madame de Grävenitz, ' he said, 'I observed you atMass in the Cathedral of Rottenburg a few days since. God forgives theinattention at Mass of an old man when he sleeps; of a young man when heloves; and the wandering attention of an _old_ man blessed with a _young_heart the Almighty will surely pardon, for He Himself must admire beauty, since He made it. ' Madame de Grävenitz looked perturbed. She was a goodand conscientious Catholic, and this light way of speaking of thingssacred seemed alarmingly daring to her; also, being rather stupid, itbewildered her, and she had no answer for the old courtier. 'Ah, Monsieur de Grävenitz, ' continued Zollern, 'what news fromMecklemburg? Does not your heart smite you when you think of the countrywhich gave you birth?' 'Monseigneur, it was the only gift Mecklemburg ever gave me, and indeed, to-night I am hardly grateful for the gift. What is the use of life whenit is so fierce a struggle not to die of hunger?' he said, and drainedhis glass of punch. 'I have such simple tastes. --Madame de Ruth, may Idrink another glass of your excellent punch?--I have such simple tastes, and even these I cannot satisfy!' The Duke of Zollern watched him, and his fine smile was more of acommentary than many a spoken word. Grävenitz observing it broke into alaugh, which was echoed by the company. 'Monseigneur, ' said Madame de Ruth, 'we have been sitting here in thedark for two hours discussing Grävenitz's future. I mean, of course, hisfortune; we always say future when we mean fortune! He vows that if moregulden cannot be lured into his pocket, he must retire from court. We canfind no way out of our friend's dilemma. Can you suggest some course?' 'Madame, to serve a friend of yours I am always ready! SurelySerenissimus will not willingly lose a courtier he has delighted in; butat this moment, I believe, Monsieur de Stafforth will bear me out when Isay all the court charges are engaged; and Monsieur de Grävenitz, notbeing of the sex, cannot hold the most important charge of any court, forMadame de Geyling usurps that! So what can I suggest?' Madame de Ruth was thoughtful for a moment; then, throwing up her hands, she exclaimed: 'And you call me a woman with wits? For two long hourshave we deliberated and found nothing, and it needed the punch-bowl togive me an idea! We want three things, nay, four: to help Grävenitz withfunds; to dethrone that Geyling, whose airs and graces have becomeintolerable; Monsieur de Stafforth seeks a friend in the Duke's intimate, most intimate, council; and our Mother Church desires a friend theretoo. ' She ticked off each succeeding clause on her much-beringed fingers. 'Monsieur de Grävenitz, you once told me you had a pretty sister wastingher charms at Güstrow. Let us put her in the Geyling's place! A few yearsof that envied position and we achieve our first two objects! Stafforth, my friend, you are the man to find means of gaining your aims thereby aswell. ' The adventurer smiled fatuously. 'And the Church--ah, we forgetthe Church!' At these words the mocking smile faded from Zollern's face;his expression was that of a man whose interest was stirred, as indeed itwas; for though to Monseigneur de Zollern there was nothing sacred, andhe subjected all things to his biting wit, he gave conscientiousallegiance to the Church of Rome, which he regarded as the only faithfitted for a gentleman. He belonged to the political party desirous ofgoverning Wirtemberg in conjunction with the Jesuits. No matter that thepeople were strict and bigoted Protestants, or that the adoption of RomanCatholicism would mean the revolt of half the population; he consideredthe religious beliefs of burghers to be but pawns in that vast politicalgame which was being played at that time in Europe, and in Germany inparticular, under the name of religion. Wirtemberg was governed by aProtestant ruler, the people regarded the Roman Faith as the religion ofAntichrist, but the nobles were nearly all Catholics; and as long asWirtemberg remained Protestant, they, naturally, played but small rôlesin the government. The peasants of Wirtemberg had more freedom than anyother people of the Empire. A heavy, stubborn race, these Wirtembergers, hating their French-speaking rulers and jealously safeguarding thoseancient rights and liberties accorded to them by the testament ofEberhard der Greiner in 1514. This Magna Charta of Swabia granted thepeople a degree of freedom which was exceedingly irksome to the Dukes ofWirtemberg. The nobles of the land who regarded themselves as too mightyto attend the petty court of Stuttgart, for the most part sulked in theircastles, or repaired to the imperial court in Vienna. The Dukes ofWirtemberg had perforce accepted this with as good grace as possible, butwhen Eberhard Ludwig attained his majority he welcomed foreigners fromevery part of Germany, forming from this band of usually noble, butinvariably penniless, adventurers a court of a certain magnificence andbrilliance. 'Here it is possible to enrich oneself; whereas in all othercourts it is impossible not to be ruined, ' Monsieur de Pöllnitz tells usof the Wirtemberg of Eberhard Ludwig's day. It was in this wise that Stafforth, a man of little birth from Hanover, had succeeded in becoming an important person, and even pushed andintrigued himself into the high position of Oberhofmarshall. Herr Friedrich Wilhelm von Grävenitz, another courtier and newcomer, wasa gentleman of Mecklemburg. He had served in one of the Mecklemburgregiments attached to Marlborough's troops when that great general, withthe Imperial Army, defended the banks of the Rhine from the invasion ofLouis XIV. Duke Eberhard Ludwig espoused the cause of his suzerain, the AustrianEmperor, and at the head of such troops as he could muster out ofWirtemberg joined the Allied Army serving under the Duke of Marlborough. On his return from the campaign he brought with him, on a visit toStuttgart, several gentlemen, his comrades in arms, among whom wasGrävenitz. This young soldier having little to gain by returning toMecklemburg, and finding Stuttgart a pleasant abode, remained at EberhardLudwig's court; married a Fräulein von Stuben of Rottenburg on theNeckar, hard by Tübingen; was created Kammerjunker to the Duke, and, aswe have just seen, felt himself in spite of this office but ill-rewardedfor having taken domicile in Wirtemberg. 'The Church, Madame, ' said the Duke of Zollern, 'is in so sorry a plightin this country, that she will certainly be ready to assist herself bythe means you mention. But, in this case, we are not sure if the "means"be willing; for I fear Mademoiselle de Grävenitz, like her brother, isof the Protestant sect? Is that not so, Grävenitz?' 'Monseigneur, my sister is not made of martyr stuff. I fancy that shewould be willing to further the aims of the Church, were it in her powerto do so, and if it were clearly to her advantage. We are talkingopenly, ' he added with a slight flush, for he was still young, onlyfour-and-twenty, and more used to the ruder if more honest code of thecamp, than to court manners and customs. 'Now let us consider our strategics, ' said Madame de Ruth. 'Bonté divine!How it refreshes one to have a scheme on hand! Stafforth, you saynothing? Marie, you are shocked; how foolish in this workaday world! Why, girl, each does what he can; and, believe me, it is not a lazy life Ipropose for your sister-in-law. God does not forgive the lazy--it is oneof the deadly sins--especially at court. Allons! Let us consider:Monsieur de Stafforth remind us of the dates of the coming courtfestivities! A ball? No! A ball is useful during a well-started intrigue. I have it! there will be theatricals in the Lusthaus on the 29th ofApril. Three days? Perfect! And your sister sings? Grävenitz, how doesshe sing?' 'Well, Madame, divinely well; but her voice is deep, very low--a darkrich voice that mad old dreamer, the schoolmaster at Güstrow, callsit----' he began, but the garrulous lady interrupted eagerly: 'Heaven guard the boy for a simpleton! Do you not know the invinciblethrill of the new, the unaccustomed? We are all sick to death of theGeyling's shrill pipe; your sister's voice would be invaluable, as acontrast. ' 'When Madame de Ruth talks it is like the ripple of the brooks, ' saidZollern laughing; 'your pardon, dear friend, that I interrupt! Your planis admirable, but first let us get the lady here, see her, hear her, andthen we shall know what to do. Meanwhile I must go homewards. Monsieur deBerga, my old friend, who bores me with his virtue but holds me by hiswell-tried affection, awaits me for supper, and I have a long road beforeme ere I get to my house. ' So saying, the Duke of Zollern rose to depart. 'Berga!' laughed Madame deRuth, 'there is the very man we want for the end of our intrigue! Whenhis Highness has plucked the flower and enjoyed its sweetness, we willgive it to Berga to dry between the leaves of his Bible! He shall marryMademoiselle de Grävenitz in a few years' time; it will be a pious actfor him, and a small reward to us for having borne his lectures with suchgood grace this twenty years. ' Zollern smiled. He knew his austere oldfriend too well, and he could not picture him in the ridiculous rôle ofhusband of a cast-off courtesan. With a profound salute the old beau tookleave of the company, and followed his hostess into the ill-lit corridor. 'A fine plan, dear friend, a very fine plan! By the way, let us hope thisGrävenitz girl talks a little better French than does her sister-in-law. I verily believe Madame Friedrich de Grävenitz prefers peasant German toour own speech, and at court no word of that inelegant language could betolerated. ' Once more he bent over Madame de Ruth's hand, murmuring, 'Merci de messouvenirs, amie bien chère, ' and then he climbed back into his heavycoach and drove out into the stormy darkness. Madame de Ruth watched thelights of the carriage disappearing, and with a sigh re-entered thesalon, where she found Grävenitz writing a letter to his sister, helpedby suggestions from Oberhofmarshall Stafforth. FOOTNOTES: [1] Württemberg was formerly and more correctly spelt Wirtemberg. Thisancient spelling has been retained in the present work. CHAPTER II THE AVE MARIA A ROOM with rudely bulging plaster walls, once painted a harsh blue, nowtoned by time and damp to a hundred parti-coloured patches. A rough, uneven floor; for furniture a narrow, oaken bedstead, a heavy chair lamedby four legs of various heights, a rickety table steadied by a pad ofrags beneath one foot, a long chest of painted wood: such was thesleeping-room of Wilhelmine von Grävenitz, in her mother's house atGüstrow in Mecklemburg. And here on a December morning of the year 1705Wilhelmine sat disconsolately on the edge of the narrow bed. A feeble rayof winter sunshine crept through the small lattice window and made thedust twirl in a straight shaft of haze. The sunbeam kissed a cheerfulnessinto the dreary chamber, but the girl evidently felt no answering thrillof gladness, for she remained in her dejected attitude gloomilycontemplating the dust dancing in the sunray. It was bitterly cold, andthe feeble sun seemed only a teasing trick of nature, emphasising thegeneral unfriendliness of the morning. Wilhelmine shivered in her thinbedgown, but she made no movement towards clothing herself; she was aprey to a mood of profound melancholy, and her expression was mournful, almost sinister. Though hers was a strangely haunting face, giving theimpression of loveliness, yet, had one called this girl beautiful, itwould have conveyed a totally erroneous picture of her, and but illdefined her subtle fascination. Her features were irregular, a trifleheavy perchance, with high cheek bones and massive square chin, with acleft in the centre as though the Master Sculptor had said: 'This weretoo strong a face for a woman; I will give her a hint of tenderness tomake her utterly irresistible, ' and so He had planted a child's dimplein her chin and another near her lips when she smiled. Wilhelmine wasover-tall, lithe of limb, and spare as a Greek runner; then suddenly, unexpectedly, full breasted--surprising, when one considered the rest ofher proportions. Her hair was deep brown, nearly black, save where thelight showed a tinge of red, a glint of gold. It was almost too abundant;like a rich, virulent weed it grew triumphant. Her lips were thin yetperfectly modelled, a long gracious curve; the upper lip a trifle thickerand short below the sensitive, wide-open nostrils. The brow serene andwhite, heavy over the deep-set blue eyes. And the eyes! No one could everdescribe Wilhelmine von Grävenitz's eyes, or no two persons could agreeconcerning them, which comes to the same thing. They were blue and deeplyset, the lids heavy, the lashes short and thick, the eyebrows stronglymarked, arched and almost joining over the nose. But these are mereoutward presentments, and tell nothing of the spirit living in thosemarvellous eyes. This was a thing of vital force, for ever changeful. Even the colour of her eyes was varying, and yet there was a curiouspersistency of gaze, a power of fixing. The Güstrow citizens calledWilhelmine von Grävenitz witch and sorceress because of these strangeeyes; they said she could freeze men with a look, that she had aserpent's gaze that grew cold and petrifying, when she chose, and yetthose who loved her (they were not many) knew that her eyes could dancewith laughter like a child's, that they could soften to tenderness, couldglow with enthusiasm over a song or poem. But these softer moods wererare; in Wilhelmine's life there was little to call forth a gentlefeeling. She lived alone with her mother in the small dark house, herbrother Friedrich was away at the wars, her elder sister had married amiddle-class personage of the name of Sittmann, a struggling Berlinmerchant; and thus Wilhelmine led a dull life enough, for she despisedthe homely Güstrow citizens, who in return disliked and feared her andcalled her witch. Frau von Grävenitz was a talkative dame, who passed herdays in gossip and in waiting for news of her son Friedrich--'my soldierson at the wars with our brave Mecklemburgians, who follow the alliedarmy under the great Englishman Malbruck!' as she informed her neighboursa hundred times a day. Upon Wilhelmine she lavished little affection, grudging her the scanty fare, and continually reminding her that she mustmarry. 'And who is more fitting a husband than Herr Pastor Müller?' shewould add. 'Though, ' she grumbled, 'he is not of noble birth, still he isa solid man; and really in these days, when all the country is upset andone never knows when the French King and his wickedness may come upon us;what with one thing and another, indeed, a maiden may be pleased to findeven a plebeian protector. ' Thus she rambled on in her sharp voice, yetthere was cause for her anxiety, and truth lay beneath her cackle, butthe wisdom of age is often obscured by its presentment. Wilhelmine paid little heed to her mother's eloquence; though thismorning, as she sat on the edge of her bed, it was of those daily tiradesthat she thought. Frau von Grävenitz was a sore trial. The food in her house was poor andscanty. The house itself dirty and untidy, with one peasant girl to doall the work. Wilhelmine hated this misery. She dreamed of ease andplenty, of soft linen, of bright garments, of balls and masques, ofgaiety and splendour. Pastor Müller had none of these things to offer, she reflected; and shesaw in prospect long years of dull sermons to be yawned through, stockings--thick, ugly stockings--to darn, stuffy respectability!--Atimid knock came at the door, and Wilhelmine called the permission toenter, in a voice still clouded and harsh from her dreary reflections. The door opened, disclosing a curious and pathetic figure wrapped in atattered homespun cloak. It seemed to be a child, for it had but childhood's growth; yet the bodyhad the clumsy decrepitude of old age. The shoulders were high andpointed; the long, emaciated arms reached almost to the ground. Enormoushands hung on these poor limbs--hands for a very big woman, beautifulhands; for in spite of their huge size they were wonderfully modelled andimposingly strong, with the long, nervous fingers of the artist or theenthusiast. The head was grotesquely oversized, though essentiallybeautiful; but it seemed like some sculptor's masterpiece placed upon aridiculous figure, or some fine boulder rock balanced absurdly on anarrow, crooked flower-stem. The face arrested attention immediately; itwas beautiful, finely chiselled and of classic line, without a hint ofdeformity or disease on its glowing health. The eyes were large, liquid, appealing, yet painfully watchful, as are the eyes of all the deformed. Ayearning soul looked out of them, longing for sympathy, suspicious ofpity--pity which is of all things most hateful to the cripple and thehunchback. As she stood in the doorway, there was a look of almost sterndisapproval on her face, though the eyes softened with the tenderness ofa woman watching the gracious naughtiness of a child. 'Wilhelmine, ' she said, her grave glance meeting the other's angry frown, 'Wilhelmine, what is it now? Has the mother been singing her usual songof poverty and marriage? Come, beloved one, never frown at me so; youknow it hurts me when you frown, more than the sneers and laughter whichI always hear around me. --My friend! Nothing is worth a frown, thoughmany things are worth tears. ' Wilhelmine turned away abruptly. Anna Reinhard was her friend, one of thefew people in the world for whom she felt affection; but the pedanticwords of the deformed girl often irritated her, and she found that spokenwisdom of Anna's infinitely wearisome, yet she was seldom querulous toher, partly because of the real affection she bore her, partly from acertain fear of the hunchback's quick wit and vehemence. 'No, ' said Wilhelmine, 'it is not really the recollection of mother'slectures which disturbs me; but oh, Anna, this existence is becomingunbearable! It is all very well for you; you have your beloved books, andyour religion to occupy you, but I have got nothing, and I want so much!Believe me, all those things you call amusement and luxury arenecessities to me. I want to lie soft in sweet linen, to wear richclothes, to dance, and--yes, Anna, don't look wise and solemn! I wantadmiration, applause, power. Anna, Anna, I wish I had been born like you'(the hunchback shuddered), 'yes, yes! You know what I mean! To like thosethings you like, all of which you can get----' 'What foolishness!' broke in Anna; 'content with what one can have isthe only happiness. Wilhelmine, some day perhaps you will have the thingsyou pine for, far more perhaps, and then you will want others, alwaysmore!' 'Give me these things, and I will not ask for more!' burst outWilhelmine. 'So you always say, Wilhelmine, and always will--even when----' 'Anna, you do not understand! how could you? I want life and all thatlife holds----' She opened her strange, grasping hands, and they closedover the other's wrists in a compelling grip. At this moment a clatter arose in the narrow, ill-paved street, in whichstood Frau von Grävenitz's house. A man on a mud-bespattered horse cantered to the door of the Rathaus andpulled up with a flourish, blowing a shrill blast on a horn. He wasaccoutred in the blue and silver uniform which the Princes of Thurn andTaxis decreed to be worn by the Imperial Post. The Taxis were Hereditary Grand Masters of the Imperial Post, whichoffice they had found to be a valuable source of income, for the entirereturn of the exorbitant postal rates went into their pockets; still thepeople had cause for gratitude to the Taxis, as, at least, their careassured a tolerably safe carrying of letters, and, to a certain extent, asystematised postal service. In those days the arrival of the mail was an important event. It awokethe small German town from its habitual slumberous dullness, and a lettercaused its recipient to be regarded as a person of consequence. A crowd of town cronies and gossips immediately formed round thehorseman. They did not ask if he brought a letter; indeed, that wasunlikely, but news! news of the war! What were the Frenchmen doing? hadthey gone back to their godless country? The man answered these questions as best he might. He knew little, hesaid, for he only carried despatches from Schwerin. News of the war inthe South? Well, --they said in Schwerin that Marshal Villars had leftWirtemberg with his army, but there was a letter in his bag fromWirtemberg for the Fräulein von Grävenitz, and perchance she would beable to tell them. At mention of this a busybody ran up the narrowstreet, calling loudly: 'Fräulein Wilhelmine! Fräulein Wilhelmine! thereis a letter from your brother! Come and tell us the news of the army. Hemay tell when to expect our soldiers' return. ' Wilhelmine, who had dressed hurriedly on hearing the post arrive, cameslowly down the street. She looked angrily at the woman, for she hatedthe familiarity of the townsfolk and resented their open curiosity. Didthey expect her to read her brother's letter aloud to a gaping group, asthough it were a public gazette? But she wanted the letter, and wished toget it before her mother, hearing the tumult, could come and snatch itfrom her. The people eyed the proud girl with no good will. She wasreserved and haughty, and some said she had the evil eye. The messenger handed her the letter and she walked quickly away, followedby many a disapproving grunt and sarcastic comment from the crowd. Shegained the door of her mother's house and, springing up the creakingstair, went quickly into her room, shutting and bolting the door behindher. * * * * * 'DEAR SISTER, '--she read--'Since last I wrote to thee, I have left my Lord of Marlborough's army, being invited to visit the court of my honoured brother in arms, Monseigneur le Duc de Wirtemberg. This happened six months since; meanwhile I have married Mademoiselle Marie von Stuben, a lady of Rottenburg (a small town on the borders of my Lord Duke's territory). I have been appointed Kammerjunker at court, and shall not be returning to Güstrow for some time. I write this news so that thou mayst break it gently to our mother, who, I fear, may be disappointed in that I do not return immediately to visit her. But assure her that I will ride North to see her whenever I can, and that shortly I hope to be in a position to offer her hospitality in Stuttgart. 'I am convinced that it would be to thine advantage, dear sister, if thou camest immediately to visit us. Tell our mother that I know many rich noblemen here, and that I will endeavour to arrange a marriage for thee, more fitting than the alliance of our sister Sittmann. The great thing is that thou shouldst set forth soon, for there will be court festivities in the spring. After which, there is usually little gaiety until the late autumn. 'A good friend of mine, Madame de Ruth of Oberhausen, is willing to receive thee, and will arrange that thou shouldst take part in these court gaieties. A thousand greetings to our mother, and beg her, for my sake, to permit thee to travel southward without too much delay. --Thy brother, 'FREIDRICH WILHELM VON GRÄVENITZ. 'Neuhaus, Oberhausen, près Rottenburg sur le Neckar. WIRTEMBERG. _Ce_ 29 _Nov. _ 1705. 'I hope thy friend Monsieur Gabriel has really taught thee fine French, for no one speaks German here at court; it is considered as peasants' speech! As thou wilt see, I do not even write to thee in German! French talk, French manners, in spite of French battles!' * * * * * Wilhelmine sat motionless for a few moments after she had perused thiseffusion. In her mind she saw a succession of pictures of courtlysplendour and graceful adventure--and in each she herself was the centralfigure. She looked around her bare room; the bulging walls, the rudefurniture. Her eyes narrowed into that strange look of hers which thepeople of Güstrow declared was like a serpent's gaze, and could holdanimals powerless as long as it was directed upon them. She was thinkingdeeply--swiftly--and perhaps it was at this moment that Wilhelmine vonGrävenitz vowed her soul to worldly success; her indomitable willdirected to the goal of worldly power at all costs and at all hazards. She rose shivering. It was cheerless and cold in her room; the momentarygleam of the winter sun had died away, and the sky was grey and heavywith coming snow. She unhooked her cloak from the peg, fastened it roundher, and with her letter hidden away in the folds she stepped softly outand down the stair, throwing a quick backward glance to see if her motherfollowed or observed her. Noiselessly she lifted the latch of the housedoor and took her way up the narrow street. She passed the old Rathaus with the quaint fourteenth-century belfry, andthe clock whence sprang out the brightly painted leaden figure of aknight, to smite the chime with his sword at each hour. In themarket-place beneath, the weekly market was being held. Many small booths had been erected, and the venders were expostulatingwith the citizens, who drove hard bargains with them. It was apicturesque scene enough, had Wilhelmine paused to watch--much colour inthe peasants' dress, much variety in the women's headgear, and over allthe wonderful old building, which would have delighted a painter's soul. That morning Wilhelmine noted nothing of all this, though on anotheroccasion she would have taken pleasure in it, for like most sensuousnatures she had a keen feeling for colour, and the grouping of a peasantcrowd appealed to her artistic eye; but that day she was so absorbed inher own dreams that she did not even observe her mother walking towardsher, an expression of annoyance on her sharp features. Wilhelmine startedwhen Frau von Grävenitz, laying an ungentle hand on her shoulder, saidclose to her ear: 'And where may my fine daughter be going at so early anhour? Generally Miss Lie-abed is still reposing at nine of the clock!' 'O mother!' she answered, 'I am going to Monsieur Gabriel for my singinglesson. God knows, you cannot grudge me that, for he teaches me withoutpayment. ' Her quick wit told her that to draw her mother's attention tothis fruitful source of complaint, her poverty, would ensure an escapeunquestioned. She reflected that she could tell of Friedrich's letter, pretending she had received it on her way home. Or, if her motherdiscovered the earlier delivery of the post, she would say the angryattack in the market-place had made her forget to mention it. This planmet with success, and Frau von Grävenitz remained in the pleasurablethroes of a talkative woman with a grievance, holding forth to anappreciative audience composed of several of her gossips, who hadgathered round as soon as they heard her shrill excited tones. Amarket-woman or two joined the group and stood with hands on hips, listening with open amusement, for the garrulous dame was a well-knowncharacter in the country town. As Wilhelmine gained the shelter of the dark street which ran from theMarktplatz to the cathedral, she saw Pastor Müller's fat form added toher mother's assemblage. How she hated that stout person, his pompouscondescension to her, and his greasy face! The Klosterstrasse seemed deliciously quiet after the noise of theMarktplatz, and before her, at the end of the street, she could see onetall buttress of the cathedral, and a corner of the graveyard. She walkedup the pathway between the tombs and pushed open the heavy church door. The cathedral nave was dark. Wilhelmine peered about and, thinking therewas no one in the church, turned to go, when from the organ, far awaynear the high altar (or where the high altar had been before Protestantfury had torn it down), came a whisper like the awakening of thecathedral's soul; a long-drawn note which grew stronger and fuller, filling the whole building with a pulse of sound. Wilhelmine paused, then, turning silently to one of the oaken pews, satdown. A wondrous melody crept through the air, strong, noble, uncomplicated; then followed chords growing each moment more theexpression of a soul on fire. They rose stronger, they swelled and stroveand implored, they wailed with the passion of finite hearts that yearninfinitely; then suddenly sank back into the solemn major key whence theystarted. And it was as the renunciation of some terrible striving, asthough the organ chanted the litany of some perfect calm reached throughan agony of endeavour and suffering. Wilhelmine's eyes were wet, whileshe leaned her head against the back of the oaken pew. To her music wasthe only form of prayer, and it never failed to move her to a vagueaspiration, she herself knew hardly what. Her dreams of the world faded, and she was only cognisant of the dim church and the inspiredimprovisation of her beloved Monsieur Gabriel. This was his answer to heras yet unasked question. She had come to him for guidance, to beg hiscounsel concerning her brother's letter, and he had told her in his musicall that he knew of the world. He had shown her the cruel agony of theworldly life, the unrest, the bootless seeking, the satiety of realisedambition, and the calmness, the peace of the renunciation of thesethings. The organ was silent for a moment, and then through the stillness of theshadowy aisle floated the first notes of an 'Ave Maria, ' which Wilhelmineknew well and had often sung when no disturbing element of disapprovingProtestant burgherdom was near. Instinctively she came in at theappointed bar for the voice's commencement. 'Ave Maria gratia plena, ' shesang, and her powerful notes echoed through the cathedral with all thesombre glory which lay in her great contralto voice. The player at theorgan immediately softened his music to a mere accompanying whisper, which yet supported the voice, greeting it with the newly awakened soulof the organ. 'Ora pro nobis, peccatoribus, ' she sang, and surely theMother of God must have listened to so wonderful a tone prayer? 'Nunc etin hora mortis nostrae, Amen. ' And the organ wandered on repeating the'Amen' again and again in a solemn, dreamy deepening of chords, which thebeautiful voice followed and answered with that certainty and ease whichbelong to a few of the world's singers when they sing to theaccompaniment of one with whom they are in perfect musical andsympathetic understanding. The music came to an end and the church seemeddoubly silent, with the painful stillness one sometimes feels when a songis ended; it is almost the same sudden forlorn feeling as when a belovedfriend goes away, that sense of the departure of a beautiful presence, orit may be that our souls have returned to earth after soaring towardssome beauteous mystic region. Wilhelmine passed up the nave, through asmall door in the side of the carven wooden screen, and up a dark andnarrow winding stair which led to the organ-loft. It was unusual to findan organ even in a cathedral in those days, but a pious Duke ofMecklemburg-Güstrow had given this one to the church as a thankoffering, and had caused it to be built by the famous organ-makers of Venice. The organist's face and figure commanded attention. Tall and spare, withthe scholar's stoop, a long narrow head broadening at the brow, a mass ofiron-grey hair, --a thin, eager face lit by almost colourless eyes, whichlooked as though the blue of youth had been washed away by tears, orfaded by vigils and patient suffering. This was the individual whom thetownsfolk called the 'mad French schoolmaster, Monsieur Gabriel, ' andwhose youth they whispered had been spent at the court of France, tillMadame de Maintenon had set his enemies upon him, and he, being proved aheretic, had fled for his life across the frontier and wanderednorthwards. The course of his wanderings brought him to Mecklemburgwhere, hearing that the schoolmaster at Güstrow had died, he had soughtthe post and it had been granted him, because of his proved learning andhis skill as a musician. This uneventful calling he had followed for manyyears, and the people had ceased to wonder at his eccentricities, hissilence, and his friendlessness. The children loved him, and his schoolbecame famous through the countryside, and on Sundays and feast days thecitizens flocked to hear his organ playing, and the performance of thechoir of youths and maidens he had trained to sing so well. Pastor Müller, according to his coarse nature, was jealous of him andinsolent to him, yet he feared the mild gaze of those faded eyes and theimperturbable courtesy of the old Frenchman's manner. The pastor wouldoften question the schoolmaster sharply concerning the music he played. 'Chorales are all very fine, ' he said, 'but surely oftentimes you playmusic from the abominable Mass, not fitting indeed in a holy place setapart for the worship of the Lord according to our pure faith?' 'Ah!Pastor, but the notes cannot contaminate, ' Monsieur Gabriel would answer;'Luther himself made use of the monk's melodies in his canticles. ' AndPastor Müller retired to his dirty, airless house, feeling rebukedhimself where he had wished to chide. When Wilhelmine von Grävenitz appeared at the Güstrow school, acurly-haired child, Monsieur Gabriel had immediately fallen victim to herwayward charm, and had lavished much care on her studies. He taught herFrench thoroughly. 'I am told, ' he was wont to say, 'that even in Germanyno lady speaks aught save French, and you, my child, must be a great ladysome day. Believe me, there is no more magnificent being than a true_grande dame_, and for this destiny the good God fashioned you. ' Hetrained Wilhelmine in music, till thorough-bass, counterpoint, and therest became to her an easy exercise. He read her of the history ofFrance; taught her to know and love the _Roman de la Rose_, and the poemsof the singers of La Pleïade. Often he would quote Malherbes, saying witha smile and a sigh as he looked at her radiant youth: 'Et rose, elle avécu ce que vivent les roses, l'espace d'un matin; for, ' he said, 'theflowers of the world fade quickly, and thou art surely a flower, mylittle one. ' He read her the works of Racine, Corneille, Molière, all ofwhich learning she assimilated rapidly, and with an accuracy whichdelighted the old scholar. Sometimes, of an evening, he would keep herwith him long after school hours, and one winter he took it into his headthat she must learn to dance. He tied an inky tablecloth to her shouldersto serve as a sweeping garment. It was infinitely droll to see the two, mincing, bowing, and pirouetting in front of the mirror. 'You must _see_yourself curtsey, ' he said, 'if you would learn the real movement. ' Hetaught her the gavotte, the pavane, and many other dances, playing themeasures on an old violin the while. The school desks served for dummydancers, and were arranged to give her a notion of the ordering of thefigures. The aged recluse, in his musty coat, seemed transformed into avery courtly gentleman, but Wilhelmine always fancied that his eyes weremore melancholy than usual after these mimic courts. One day she askedhim if it saddened him to revoke the past. 'Ah! mon enfant!' he replied, 'que voulez-vous? un coeur profondément blessé ne guérit jamais; andthe melodies of these dances remind me of my wound, which I thought hadhealed in your peaceful northern land. Ah! little one, there is no saddermusic to the old than the dance-music of a vanished youth. ' While Wilhelmine read her brother's letter on that cold December morning, it was to Monsieur Gabriel she at once decided to confide its surprisingcontents. Her mother, she knew, would raise a dozen difficulties, and itwere best to talk with Monsieur Gabriel and devise some means ofprocuring sufficient money to pay the cost of her journey to Wirtemberg. Then, if they could hit upon a scheme to propose to Frau von Grävenitz, there was more likelihood of gaining her consent. But the music hadchanged Wilhelmine's mind, and as she climbed up to the organ-loft shewas almost prepared to abandon her intended journey. 'Monsieur Gabriel!' she said, 'I have great news, so strangely unexpectedthat I wonder if I am dreaming it! Read this letter of my brother's, andgive me your advice. ' The old man stretched out his left hand to take thepaper, while his right hand remained on the organ keys, and as he read heplayed a few chords. 'Hélas!' he murmured as he refolded the letter, 'sothe time has come when you must go forth into the world. Well, well--itis right; you are wasted here, though God knows it will be very darkwithout you. ' 'But, Monsieur Gabriel, ' she said, 'you talk as though I should startto-morrow! I have not told my mother yet, and I have come to you foradvice. Where could I get the money to pay my journey? It will cost manygulden. ' The old man smiled. 'Money? your brother sends you none, of course? Yourmother? she also has none. Does Friedrich think you can fly southward ona swallow's wing? And the swallows have gone to the south long ago, ' headded dreamily. 'O Monsieur Gabriel, ' cried Wilhelmine, 'help me!--you have always helpedme! tell me where to get this money. ' 'My child, I must think; do you know what the cost will be? No, nor Ieither; but let me see--how long has this letter been on theroad?--sixteen days--and you could not travel so far without rest andrefreshment. Well! you must have a hundred gulden. But, child, to what amI sending you?' Wilhelmine started; she knew by his last words that he could procure themoney. 'To success!' she answered in a low voice. 'Success? Yes, probably, but that is the greatest danger! We can most ofus remain pure of heart, tender, generous while we are poor or sad, butit is when the world smiles that the heart so often grows cold and hard. ' Wilhelmine clambered on to the organ bench, pushing Monsieur Gabrielgently aside. She struck a chord, but the half-witted bellows-blower, whose presence they had forgotten, had ceased to pump air into the organ, and there came only a painful droning from the empty pipes. She called tohim imperiously, and with a muttered grumble he resumed his pumping. 'A bad omen, ' said Wilhelmine; 'I strike a chord and I achieve dissonanceand wailing. ' She threw back her head and pressed her fingers on thekeyboard: this time a thin flute-like chord came forth, and Wilhelminelifted her voice and sang: 'Cher ami de ma jeunesse Souriez à ma liesse-- Au Printemps chansons et fleurs! Pour l'hiver gardons les pleurs. Cher ami, la vieillesse Est revêche à l'alégresse Je cueillerai les douces fleurs Pour l'hiver gardant mes pleurs. ' She managed the organ wonderfully, and succeeded so well in playing alight, graceful accompaniment to the old French melody, that MonsieurGabriel, listening with a smile and nodding his head, whispered as thoughto some invisible confidant: 'I have made her a true artist!--no, Godmakes the artist, but those who love them teach them to give their geniusto the world. Well, my child, ' he continued, 'I will find the money foryou, but leave me now. Be satisfied, your song has done its work; I willsend you on your search for the flowers, and God grant you may not findthe tears too soon!--I do not love that song with its refrain of fleurset pleurs, it is so terribly true. ' But Wilhelmine was not listening tohis rambling talk; her strange eyes had lost the brightness which hadbeen theirs while she sang the gay French song; they had narrowed to thathard, compelling gaze which, in truth, was curiously serpent-like in itscold fixity. Monsieur Gabriel laid his hand on her shoulder, and together they wentdown into the silent nave of the church. They separated at the door; theold man going up the Klosterstrasse to the schoolhouse, while Wilhelminewalked rapidly away, through the graveyard, towards the bleak fields andthe marshland which surrounded the dreary northern town. CHAPTER III THE FIRST STEP 'Happy the nations of the moral North! Where all is virtue, and the winter season Sends sin, without a rag on, shivering forth. ' _Don Juan_, Canto II. WILHELMINE walked on for some twenty minutes, the cold morning airbringing a bright colour to her cheeks and a sparkle to her eyes. Hergait was one of her greatest charms; it never seemed hurried, and yet thelong, even steps carried her swiftly onwards. There was vigorouselasticity in her tread; she walked freely and with perfectly assuredbalance, her shoulders thrown back and head erect. It was in a measurethis walk of hers which caused the townsfolk to call her 'the proudhussy, ' though they were careful not to let her hear their disparagingremarks, for they feared the compelling power of her strange eyes. It waswhispered that it was dangerous to offend her. 'Though, of course, ' theydeclared, 'we do not really believe in witchcraft and such Popishabominations, still it is certainly true that Hans Frisch, theblacksmith's child, who threw a snowball at her last winter and had themisfortune to hit her on the face, went home, took to his bed, and nearlydied of convulsions. ' Of this talk Wilhelmine was unaware, though, knowing the effect of her eyes upon people, she would often voluntarilynarrow her lids, causing the pupils to contract. She practised this featbefore the mirror, but she was careful not to do so at night, for it gaveher an uncanny feeling, and she sometimes succeeded in frighteningherself, as she did others. That cold morning, while she walked, therewas none of all this in her face; she was merely a gloriously healthyyoung being rejoicing simply and naturally in the morning freshness andin the pulsing of the blood in her veins. She was feeling the elation ofhealth, and it chased away her morbid fancies in spite of the drearinessof the wet fields around her. Indeed, it needed the buoyancy of youth tocounteract the profound melancholy of the Mecklemburg lake-country inwinter. The enormous flat fields stretching away in unbroken monotony, the road very straight, with a division of colour in the middle where thesummer road marched with the winter road; the former merely a soakingmud-bog, the latter hard and stony. On each side of the highway a line ofapple and pear trees lifted gaunt twisted arms to the leaden sky, asthough in protest against the sullen aspect of the world. Wilhelminepaused and looked about her. The snow was surely coming; there was thehush in the air which precedes a snowstorm, and she was some distancefrom home. She strained her eyes westward and endeavoured to catch aglimpse of the lake towards which she was journeying, but she could seenothing save the drenched fields, and in the dim distance the dark lineof fir woods. She turned her face homewards and began to walk with aquickened step. The cold air had made her hungry; she had only partakenof a lump of black bread and a glass of milk, and it was now late in themorning. She felt a soft cold touch on her cheek, the first snowflake ofthe gathering storm. At first the snowflakes only added to the slush onthe road; they melted shudderingly and were devoured by the brown mud, but as the snow fell the mud was conquered and lay hidden beneath adazzling white covering. Ever faster came the snow. It beat down onWilhelmine, the large fleecy patches almost blinding her. She had walkedfarther than she had realised, and her feet sinking deep through the snowinto the mud beneath, the high heels of her thin shoes stuck and impededher progress. At length she reached the outskirts of the town, whose redroofs were already almost hidden by a white layer of snow. She hurried upthe deserted street, past the cathedral. When she came to the corner ofthe market-place she saw a dark figure in a cloak of peasant's friezecoming towards her, and with a feeling of annoyance she recognised PastorMüller. At that moment he too observed her, and hurried to meet her. 'Ah!Fräulein, ' he said as he came up, 'I am grieved to see you exposed tothis inclement weather. May I not offer you the hospitality of myhouse?' He spoke in German with a careful affectation of correctness, though his accent was harsh and guttural from his native low Germandialect. Wilhelmine particularly detested his speech, and it irritatedher to be addressed as 'Fräulein, ' as though she were a burgher'sdaughter, and not of sufficiently noble birth to be styled 'graciouslady. ' Of a truth, the pastor was not a person to inspire either likingor respect. He was fat in body, with short plump legs whose common shapewas exhibited to the fullest extent by tight knee-breeches and woollenstockings. His face was enormous, and though his jaw showed strength anddecision, the weak mouth and large protuberant lips indicated that hissenses ruled what he himself styled 'the fair habitation of an immortalsoul. ' His eyes were small, and seemed to express inordinate greed, whenthey were not, as was usually the case, lifted to the sky in piousself-assurance, yet with feigned humility. Pastor Müller was at onceunctuous and insolent, a combination of contending characteristics whichis often the possession of those who patronise God Almighty with theirapproval, and use His Name as a convenient adjunct in their homiliesagainst all things human. His health, he was wont to declare, hadsuffered from his many vigils, and consequently he found himself forcedto fortify his body with much nourishment, and with copious draughts ofany wine which he could obtain. In spite of this, he dominated hiscongregation partly by reason of a certain eloquence which was at hiscommand in the pulpit when dealing with theological questions, in which, indeed, he was deeply learned. He convinced by his uncompromisingattitude towards the sinful members of his parish. In fact, the Güstrowcitizens regarded him as a strong Christian, and rejoiced in his fervidbiblical language. Many of the spinsters of his flock would gladly havebecome Frau Müller, but he paid no heed to their blandishments, andopenly avowed his intention of making Wilhelmine the mistress of thePfarrhaus, though she appeared strangely insensible to the glory of thisprospect. In the first place, with the arrogance of youth, she regardedthe pastor's forty years as old age, and treated his ponderous attemptsat gallantry with levity. However, when she met him in the snow thatmorning she was cold and hungry, and the prospect of probable warmth athis fireside, with a substantial meal provided, proved alluring; so itwas with an unusually gracious manner that she accepted his offer ofshelter. A few steps brought them to the door of his abode, and theypassed into the small, dark corridor which led to his study. Here thestove sent forth a pleasant heat, and it was with a welcome sensation ofreturning warmth that Wilhelmine sank down in the large chair which thepastor drew up for her close to the stove. She had flung off hersnow-covered cloak, and she sat there in her thin morning blouse, open atthe neck and showing the contour of her white throat. Müller begged herto remove her soaking shoes, and, having done so, she leaned back, stretching out her feet towards the little door in the stove, which hehad opened in order to permit the red embers to give forth their fullheat. He pushed some logs through the aperture, and there was adelightful crackling and the busy burning of well-dried wood. Then heleft Wilhelmine while he went to forage in the kitchen for food; his oldhouse-keeper being at the market, or more probably sheltering from thestorm and gossiping in some friendly booth. Wilhelmine reclined in thecomfortable chair and surveyed the room. A number of theological workslay on the table in the centre of the apartment; and another large tablewhich stood in the window was covered with papers, closely written sheetsas her sharp eyes observed. The walls were bare and ugly, but the roomhad a decided air of comfort; the windows shut out the cold in a mannerunknown in Frau von Grävenitz's dilapidated house; the chair she lay inwas soft; and, above all, it was very warm in the room. She stretchedherself and wondered if, after all, there would not be sufficientcreature comforts to atone for the dullness of life as Frau Müller. The pastor returned carrying a dish of cold meat, a loaf of home-bakedbread, and under his arm a large bottle. Pushing some of the theologicalbooks aside, he set down the food on the middle table which he drew upnear the stove beside Wilhelmine. Then again he disappeared to thekitchen, returning anon with plates, glasses, knives and forks. He placedhimself opposite his guest, and turning his eyes towards the grimyceiling, he folded his fat hands and recited a prayer over the victuals. 'O Lord, who hath brought this female into mine house, send a blessing, Ipray thee, upon the food which I set before her!' He paused, then added:'May this be the first of many meals she shall partake of here inChristian humility and dutiful affection. ' Wilhelmine laughed. At anothertime the pastor would have been rebuked sharply for a speech of thiskind; but she was hungry, and it did not suit her to postpone her meal tothe uncertain date of Frau von Grävenitz's dinner. The pastor helped herliberally to meat, and cut a large slice from the white loaf--a luxuryfor Wilhelmine, used to the heavy, sour, black bread, which was providedin her mother's house. He poured out a copious draught from the blackbottle, and the smell of corn brandy filled the air. Wilhelmine atehungrily, and drank the liquor with relish, the strong spirits coursingthrough her with a grateful, tingling feeling, for she was really in needof food. 'Dear lady, ' said Müller, pouring a large quantity of the brandy into hisown glass, 'I give you of my best; this excellent liquor was a present tome from the noble Herr von Maltzan. He is a generous friend to me. Buttruly, this beverage is not for those whom the Lord has blessed withhealth and strength, and I keep it for the use of the sick, though my owndelicate constitution demands, at rare intervals, a small amount tostrengthen me. Dear Fräulein, I give it gladly to you this morning, forit is cruelly cold, and you, my dear one, were exposed to the rigours ofthe storm. ' 'I thank you, Herr Pastor; I feel truly better for your breakfast, thoughmy head is going round a little, I must confess, ' said Wilhelmine. Müller looked at her curiously, then, rising, he walked to the window, and watched the driving snow. After a few moments he returned, anddrawing up his chair near the stove he spread out his fat fingers, warming them at the fire. There was silence between them, only broken bythe wind outside, which had risen and was whistling and howling, anddriving the snow in clouds down the street. Suddenly the pastor bent downand laid his hand on her stockinged foot. 'Still damp, ' he said; 'itwould be well if you took off your hose and dried them. ' Wilhelminesmiled lazily. 'Good Herr Pastor, ' she said, 'your plenteous meal has made me sleepy. Icannot take the trouble to take off my hose even though they may be atrifle wet. ' She closed her eyes. The walk in the strong winter air, followed by the warmth of the room and the unaccustomed alcohol made herdrowsy, and she wished to be undisturbed in her half dream. Müller's faceflushed to a deep purple, then paled. He breathed heavily, and the veinsstood out on his temples like cords. 'Wilhelmine, ' he said in a hoarse, thick whisper, 'you shall indeed be mywife--I promise you--ah, you are fitted to adorn any position, Wilhelmine, my bride!' He bent and kissed her stockinged foot, and hiscoarse fingers pressed deep into her slight ankle. 'Your condescension amazes me, Herr Pastor, ' she said mockingly, 'but Ifear----' 'Nay, my dear, no maidenly modesty! Come, we are affianced now; let megive thee the lover's kiss!' He leaned over her. His breath was sour withthe smell of corn brandy. His eyes were glassy, staring, and his fat facewas livid, hideous. An overwhelming sense of repulsion came to her. Shefelt herself degraded by this man's admiration, smirched by his odiousdesire. The recollection flashed through her mind of a white flower shehad seen--a gracious, delicate thing--and a huge, slimy, black slug hadrested on the petals. She remembered how she had knocked the creatureaway, feeling that it defiled the flower. 'No, never! do you hear? Never! I will not marry you, ' she broke out. She struggled to remove Müller's hand from her ankle; but he grippedstrongly, and her fingers seemed terribly impotent, childishly weak. 'How dare you! Let me go. I tell you I will never marry you, ' shereiterated vehemently. 'Ah! you beautiful wild thing--but I will make you love me--you will seehow you will love your husband. Come, no nonsense! I will soon show youhow you love me. ' He loosed his grip of her ankle and flung himself overher in the chair, endeavouring to press his thick lips to hers. Shestruggled against him but he kept her down; with one hand on her foreheadhe pushed her back into the chair, while with the other he wrenched openthe neck of her bodice, tearing it downward to her breast. Always astrong man he seemed now transformed into some ruthless, degraded, maddened animal. Apparently she was entirely at his mercy, but she wasstrong and young, and angry disgust gave her unusual strength. She caughtthe man's throat in both her hands, working her knuckles inwards on hiswindpipe with such force that he was almost choked, and instinctively putup his hands to hers endeavouring to remove her grip. But she held him, and, half-throttled, he sank down sideways on the arm of the chair. In aninstant she dragged herself from him and was able to raise herself on oneknee, still keeping her hold on his throat. He wrenched away her hands, his iron grip on both her wrists, but she was now able to dominate heraggressor from above and could hold him down with the full force of herarms. Face to face with her enemy, she recalled the potency of herwitch-gaze. She narrowed her eyelids and directed her steely glance intothe bloodshot eyes of her tormentor. During a few seconds they were thus:the girl half-standing, half-kneeling, rigid, tense, holding the man fromher with all her strength. The man sprawling on his side in the chair--ahuge, ridiculous being, panting, gasping, helpless, for he could notregain his balance unless he let go the woman's wrists. To Wilhelmine, inspite of her dauntless nature, these few seconds seemed endless. Fortunately for her, no misgivings as to the compelling power of her eyescrossed her mind, or probably her force might thereby have beendiminished. At length she felt a slackening of the muscles of Müller'shands--his gaze faltered. Again he struggled frantically. She resolved tohazard everything, trusting entirely in her strange power. She bentslowly downwards, all the force of her will focused in her eyes. She feltas though each eye held a dagger wherewith she could stab her enemy'svery consciousness. Another moment and the man's hands relaxed entirelyand fell limp and inert from her wrists. She sprang up, catching hercloak in her hand as she fled. She reached the study door before Müllermoved. For the moment he seemed transfixed, but as she opened the door, to her horror she saw him rise, and as she rushed down the short passageshe heard Müller's heavy step behind her. For the first time during thewhole disgusting scene she felt afraid. Her knees seemed to fail, herfeet to grow strangely heavy. She stumbled on till she gained the housedoor. She fumbled frantically at the latch; it was unfamiliar to her andshe could not unfasten it. The pursuer was up to her now and his breathwas on her cheek. Once more he threw his arms round her. She turned, likean animal at bay, and dealt Müller a blow full on the lips. He staggeredfor an instant, and she succeeded, at last, in wrenching open the door. He clutched at her skirt as she sprang out. It unbalanced her, and shefell forward on her face into the snow of the street. * * * * * The shock of the fall, following the excitement of her struggle withMüller, stunned Wilhelmine for a moment, and when she dragged herself upto a kneeling position and looked round, she found herself alone in thedriving snow. Müller's door was shut, and the street absolutely deserted. She rubbed the clinging snow off her face and ruefully considered thedistance which lay between her and her mother's house. The snow hadsoaked through her thin stockings. She rose wearily, and drawing hercloak round her, and over her head, she hid both her torn bodice and herthick unbound hair, which had fallen over her shoulders during herstruggle with Müller. Then she started homewards through the fast-falling snow. As she passedthe market-place, many faces peered out at her from the venders' booths, and one friendly peasant woman called to her to take shelter, butWilhelmine shook her head and hastened onwards. She feared that hershoeless feet would awaken curiosity, and she dared not let the peoplesee her torn garments as they assuredly would did she tarry in the booth, for in their homely kindness they would insist on removing her wet cloak. The Rathaus clock chimed the hour, and Wilhelmine realised with astrange, dream-like feeling that but three hours had gone by since shepassed that way to visit Monsieur Gabriel. Yet it seemed to her asthough days had elapsed since she sang the _Ave Maria_ in the cathedral. At length she reached the door of her mother's house. She knocked loudly, wondering if Frau von Grävenitz had watched her from the windows of theupper story, which commanded a view of part of the market-place and thedoor of the Rathaus, where she had received her brother's letter thatmorning. She knocked again and tried to lift the latch, but it wassecured within. She listened, but could hear no approaching footsteps inthe corridor. She leaned against the portal, and wondered if it was herfate to remain in the snow for the rest of the day. Suddenly a thought came to her, which sent the blood tingling in a hotwave to her cheeks: Where was her brother's letter? She felt for it inher bosom; it was not there, and she knew the precious missive must havefallen from her gown during the struggle at the Pfarrhaus. Could she goback and fetch it? she asked herself. No! that was out of the question. At this moment the door was flung open and Frau von Grävenitz appeared. 'Lord God!' she said, when she saw Wilhelmine standing on the threshold, 'where have you been child? Surely your dear Monsieur Gabriel could keepyou in the schoolhouse till this storm passed over, and not send you backto catch your death of cold or cost me an apothecary's fee!' Wilhelmine pushed past her mother without a word, designing to gain herchamber before the old woman observed her torn garments and her lack ofshoes; but Frau von Grävenitz clutched hold of the cloak and, giving it avicious pull, exclaimed: 'No, no! I will not permit you to take yoursoaking clothes upstairs. Come in here and take them off. ' She tugged atthe heavy cloak with such vehemence that the clasp at her neck parted andthe cape fell back, revealing Wilhelmine's loosened hair and her tornbodice. The old woman saw her daughter's shoeless feet. She looked at hersearchingly, her face darkening and hardening from annoyance to realanger and distrust. 'Wilhelmine, ' she said harshly, 'explain yourextraordinary appearance. Where have you been, and why do you come homein this strange and unbecoming manner?' 'Mother, ' answered the girl, 'let me take off my wet clothes and I willtell you everything. ' She wished to gain time to concoct a plausiblestory, for she did not intend to mention Müller's outbreak. In the first place she was horribly ashamed, and knowing Frau vonGrävenitz's garrulous tongue she feared to be made the subject of thecitizens' gossip. But her mother was not to be put off so easily. Shedrew the girl into the kitchen, and after shutting the larder door in theservant-maid's astonished face, she planted herself firmly in front ofWilhelmine. 'Now, ' she said, 'you will favour me with your story. It isstrange to see a young maiden return in this state of disarray from aninterview with a man, and I insist upon your clearing yourselfimmediately if you can. ' 'Interview with a man, mother?' said Wilhelmine; 'what do you mean?' Itflashed across her that Frau von Grävenitz must have seen her enterMüller's house. 'Yes; your fine Monsieur Gabriel, with his mincing airs and his highmanners! You go to him for your studies, after two long hours you returnlooking as though----Good Lord! child! answer me--what has that evil oldFrenchman done to you?' Wilhelmine looked at her for a moment in silence; it had not struck herthat this interpretation of her dishevelled appearance could be harbouredeven in her mother's suspicious mind. It filled her with indignation anddismay for her friend; yet she realised with surprise that, could such athing have occurred as for Monsieur Gabriel to lose his self-control andoffend as Müller had, it would not have disgusted her to the same extent. Somehow, she felt it would not have debased her and humiliated her as hadthe pastor's attack. For a moment she almost decided to let her mothersuspect there had been some strange scene with the organist; anythingbetter than own to the degradation of having suffered the insult of thegreasy burgher. Then with a revulsion of feeling, her soul sickened atthe injustice of letting Monsieur Gabriel pay the penalty of the pastor'swicked insolence, and she remembered that her friend would be exposed tothe horrified reprobation of the sober townsfolk; nay, more, he mighteven be dismissed from his post. 'How can you think such a thing, mother?' she said angrily. 'I tell youMonsieur Gabriel knows nothing of all this, and as you put such anodious construction on my appearance, I shall not give you thesatisfaction of telling you how it came about. ' 'As you wish, ' the other replied icily; 'but it will be my duty to forbidany further visits to that Frenchman, and I shall inform Pastor Müller ofthe schoolmaster's real character. ' This was too much for Wilhelmine; her anger flamed, all her reticencevanished, and she poured forth the whole story. Her mother heard her tothe end, and, shaking her head, she made answer: 'If this be true, PastorMüller should be punished. But I cannot credit it; you are shieldingMonsieur Gabriel. Now go to your room and reflect. You are a sinfulwoman, Wilhelmine, and a disgrace to your ancient name. ' The girl turned away. The excitement of the last hours had fatigued her, and she felt an unaccountable apathy. After all, what did it matter ifher mother misjudged her? She would soon be far away; her present lifeand surroundings appeared to her to be absolutely detached from her realself. She went slowly up the creaking stair and into her garret, andflung herself down on the bed. She was asleep almost as soon as her headtouched the pillow. * * * * * It was quite dark when Wilhelmine woke, and she wondered why she shouldawaken during the night; then, slowly, remembrance came to her, and sherealised that she was still fully dressed. She lay quiet for some time, pondering on the events of the day. The Rathaus clock chimed eight slownotes, and she knew she had slept for nearly nine hours. She listened;there was some one moving downstairs in the kitchen, probably her motherpreparing the meagre supper. Wilhelmine rose, groped her way to the door, and turned the handle. The door remained firmly closed. She shook itgently, pushed it--the doors in her mother's house often stuck fast; butthis time it was no accidental adherence of ill-fitting hinges, the doorwas securely fastened from outside. Her mother had locked her in! To belocked into a room had always been a terrible thing to her. When she wasa child, her brother had often teased her by pushing her into a darkcupboard and turning the key, and it was the only one of the many trickshe played her which had caused her real alarm. She hated the dark andalways imagined she was stifling when she knew she was a prisoner in anunlit place. The same feeling came over her now, and she beat her handsfrantically against the door, calling her mother loudly the while. But noanswer came. She groped her way across the room till she felt her handtouch the window. She found the fastening and, opening the casement, leaned far out into the still night air. From across the market-placecame the sound of men's voices, and a glow of light shone beneath thehostelry door. An occasional burst of song and drunken laughter told herthat the bad characters of the town were carousing, as usual, on aSaturday night. Otherwise the silence was intense and the darknessunbroken by moon or star. The calm air of the winter night soothedWilhelmine, and she was ashamed of having knocked and called so wildly;but now a dull feeling of resentment rose in her against her mother forlocking her into her room like a naughty child. She leaned her headagainst the window-frame and wondered if any one on earth had ever beenas lonely and miserable as she. Her mother disliked her, her brother wastoo selfish to care for any one save himself. Anna, her friend, wassomething in her life; but it is small avail to be loved by those whomanage to make their affection tiresome. Müller loved her! She smiledbitterly to herself; yes, that was a love which could give her happiness!That was what some people called love, she had been told. All at once awonderful feeling came to her, a wave of infinite relief, like balsam toher wounded heart: it was the thought of Monsieur Gabriel's gentlefriendship and trust in her. She saw his kind, dim eyes; the good, discriminating smile, and the thought was as though he laid his delicate, blue-veined hand on her head, soothing her unutterably. She heard a stepcoming on the stair, a flicker of light crept under her door, and someone fitted the key into the lock. 'Mother!' she called in a softenedvoice. When the door opened, she saw Frau von Grävenitz standing there, arush-light in one hand and a plate of food balanced between her breastand the other hand, in which she held a pitcher of milk. The old woman'seyes were red with weeping, and vaguely Wilhelmine realised for the firsttime in her life that, in spite of grumbling, reproaches, and grudgingmeanness, her mother had for her a spark of that patient, yearningtenderness which is maternal love. 'Here, my child, ' she said gently, 'eat and drink, and forget thehorrible things you have passed through to-day. ' Wilhelmine slipped anarm round the old woman's neck, and kissed her as she had not done formany a long day, perhaps never since she had been a little child. For amoment she leaned her head against her mother's shoulder, and then takingthe food she began to eat. Frau von Grävenitz stuck the rush-light upbetween a book which was lying on the table and the edge of the plate, then shutting the window she went out, closing and re-locking the doorbehind her. * * * * * On the following morning Wilhelmine woke early, and she was dressed whenher mother came to the door and bade her descend and help with thehousework. All traces of the unwonted tenderness in the old woman's facehad vanished. She had, apparently, forgotten the circumstances of theprevious day, or at any rate she made no allusion thereto, though herdaughter fancied she watched her narrowly. When the morning's work wasended Wilhelmine returned to her chamber to dress for the church service. She was brushing her hair, when she heard a knock at the house door, followed by Frau von Grävenitz's shrill tones as she conversed in thecorridor with some person. Then she heard her mother mounting the stairsand calling 'Wilhelmine!' in flustered tones. The girl hastened to thedoor of her room and stood on the landing waiting to hear the cause ofher mother's summons. 'Your precious Monsieur Gabriel has gone off to Schwerin, it seems, ' shesaid, eyeing Wilhelmine sharply. 'He has sent a message, saying that heprays you take his place at the organ this morning. He says he has urgentbusiness at Schwerin, though what it can be I am sure I do not know!However, I suppose you will play the organ this morning, and I hope youwill make your Monsieur Gabriel pay you in good silver coin for yourtrouble. ' Wilhelmine's lip curled contemptuously. 'We have never paid hima groschen for teaching me to play this same organ, mother, ' she said. 'Of course I shall play this morning, but I shall persuade Anna to cometo the organ-loft with me, ' she added, as a vision flashed across her ofPastor Müller, and a possible pursuit down the dark winding stair-wayafter the congregation had left the church. She dressed quickly, andwrapping her cloak round her went out into the crisp frosty morning airto fetch Anna. When she came to the dreary house in the Stiftstrassewhere the deformed girl lived, she was annoyed to find that her friendhad already started for church. It was Anna's habit to go to thecathedral before the appointed hour for the church service. She loved tosit in the dim aisle, watching the sunlight creeping through the ancientstained glass windows, while she waited for the first tone of the organ. Wilhelmine considered for a moment. It was ridiculous to fear Müller; hewould not dare to molest her in the precincts of the church; yet shehated to pass the sacristy door alone, for he could follow her, unseenfrom the rest of the building. She threw back her head with a defiantmovement: was she becoming fearful, timid? Was this a frame of mind inwhich to face the adventurous life at a court? She turned awayimpatiently, and went swiftly down the Stiftstrasse to the market-place. The Rathaus clock rang out, and Wilhelmine realised that there was notime to be lost if she were to play the voluntary to the sound of whichthe worshippers were accustomed to take their places. She hastened acrossthe market-place, down the Klosterstrasse and through the graveyard, where the old stone slabs on the graves were, for the most part, hiddenbeneath the frost-bound snow which glittered in the sun, though here andthere an upright tombstone showed like a discoloured, jagged tooth in themidst of a white pall. She hurried on and entered the side door near thesacristy. As she lifted the latch of the entrance to the dark stairleading up to the organ-loft she heard a movement behind her, and, turning, she saw Müller's face peer at her from the sacristy. She paid noheed, and springing quickly up the steps gained the small platform, wherethe happiest hours of her life had been spent with the old musician. Shepeered down into the well-like space beneath the organ, where thebellows-blower laboured, pumping in the air for the pipes. He was at hispost patiently waiting for the signal to commence his work. Wilhelminesigned to him to begin, and having assured herself that all was in order, she glanced at the sheets of manuscript music. She found that MonsieurGabriel had appointed hymns and canticles for the day, and she noticedthat he had chosen the easiest and simplest, for though her skill almostequalled his own, he had evidently wished to spare her difficulty andtrouble. She seated herself upon the high bench before the organ, arranging her skirts so that they should not balk her pedalling. At firstshe played softly--a wailing melody of her own devising; then, as thoughshe gathered strength and assurance in her music, the chords boomed out, rich and deep, rolling down the church like the relentless waves of someelementary force. She played on and on, not hearing through the music thesound of the shuffling feet of the entering worshippers. It was with afeeling of alarm that she became aware of rows of honest burghers seatedstolidly in their accustomed places. Pastor Müller was kneeling in thepulpit waiting for the music to cease ere he began the preliminaryprayer. She softened the chords, till they faded and ceased entirely, then taking up a book of canticles, she studied the melodies and readtheir words, for she felt she could not listen to Müller's rasping voiceexhorting his flock to holiness and purity of living. The harsh tones fell unheeded on her ear for some time. A suddencessation thereof roused her to attention, and she craned her neck overthe side of the panelled wainscot which ran round the organ-loft. She sawthe congregation attentively waiting for the pastor to give out the textof his sermon. Müller stood in the pulpit; an open Bible lay on the ledgebeneath one of his strong, coarse hands; the other hand grasped thepulpit edge, and Wilhelmine could see his knuckles whitening with theforce of his grip. His face was ashy, and the deep-set eyes movedincessantly; he was evidently in a state of that violent excitement whichsometimes seized him when he preached, and which gave him a fervidemotional eloquence. 'For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower ofgrass. The grass withereth and the flower thereof falleth away. But theword of the Lord endureth for ever. And this is the word which by theGospel is preached unto you. ' He read his text in a husky, raucousvoice, and through the assemblage passed a wave of astonishment. This wassurely no verse for a Sunday before Christmas; it was more fitted for aLenten discourse! But Pastor Müller's sermons were the only theatricalperformances given at Güstrow, and the citizens revelled in the oftenstartlingly emotional character of his exhortations; so that day theysettled down as usual to listen to his sermon with pleasurable curiosity. 'Brethren, ' he began, 'O miserable sinners, who lightly look towards theseason of Christ's birth as a time of rejoicing and merry-making, forgetting the load of iniquity which weighs you down--I call to you topause! Tremble, ye righteous! Quake in fearful terror, ye wrong-doers!All joy is evil, and all things of the flesh accursed. Mourn, ye women!Cry out and weep, ye little children! for by lust ye were begot. Yea, sinwalks abroad, and corruption liveth in the hearts of men. Boast notthyself of to-morrow, for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth. Repent, I command you, and scourge yourselves, for though it is true thatthe Lord Christ came into the world to save sinners, still the securityyou have made unto yourselves is a vain thing. Without repentance youcannot share in the benefit of the birth of Christ. Prepare for Christmasby much searching of heart and renunciation of the joys of the flesh, notby seeking fresh pleasures and carousing. For truly the grass witherethand the flower thereof passeth away!' He stood tense, one armoutstretched; he was moved by his own incoherent eloquence. Thecongregation listened spellbound; indeed, the man was an orator, and thevery unexpectedness of his strange violence held his listenersenthralled. After a pause, during which the silence became nearlyintolerable, he continued his oration. His language had a Biblicalflavour, and the passion of his utterance seemed like holy inspiration. Wilhelmine listened unmoved; she knew that the man laboured under anexcitement of being, which had little or nothing to do with religioussincerity. It was merely his physical fury, dammed back from a morenatural channel, which had caused this exaltation of mind. She watchedhim with a mocking smile as he poured forth a torrent of vehementwords--denunciations of all things joyful, exhortations to repentance, and thunders of prospective vengeance on sin. Even to her the sermonseemed a masterpiece of eloquence, and the artistic feeling in herrejoiced in the vigorous phrases and fervid declamation, though her wholebeing revolted against the hypocrite and fanatic who spoke, and shedespised the crude bigotry of the actual matter of the peroration. His words came ever faster and in ever growing violence, till withconsummate skill he made another sudden pause; then, sinking his voice toa tone of grave warning, he ejaculated solemnly: 'O my brethren, men ofthe reformed faith, hearken unto me! Here, before the Face of GodAlmighty, I denounce the hellish instigators of all this abominable lust, the frail instruments of temptations--Women! These are the scourges ofthe world! accursed by reason of their vanity! condemned everlastingly byreason of their carnal desire and of their perpetual contamination of thepure heart of man!' This was more than Wilhelmine could tolerate coming from the lips of thewretch who, but a few hours before, had proved himself to be a verybeast. She would hear no more of his insolent diatribes! She gave thesign to the bellows-blower to commence his labours, and as she heardMüller's voice again rising in a burst of wild denunciation, she crashedboth hands on the keys of the organ, drowning the preacher's words in aflood of magnificent sound. In a triumph song of the fullness of Earth'sbeauty and glory the giant chords rang out, and Wilhelmine laughed aloudunder cover of the music. This was her answer to the hollowness of thehypocrite's denunciation of life and happiness; this was her confessionof faith in the joy of living, and this was her revenge upon the man whohad humiliated her. She remembered, however, that the congregation mustbe propitiated for the interruption, and sliding her strong fingers fromnote to note on the organ she modulated her triumphant rhapsody into thesimple, restful C Major; then she played the first bar of the canticlewhich Monsieur Gabriel had given out to the singers; who, though sittingamong the congregation during the services, were still a very compact andunited choir carefully trained by him, for the most part, from childhood. As she expected, they answered immediately to the organ's command, and ahundred young voices sang Luther's grand old hymn-- 'Ein' feste Burg ist unser Gott. ' * * * * * On the following afternoon Wilhelmine was sitting disconsolately in herattic. The book she was reading had fallen from her hands, and her eyesrested on the ugly blue walls of her room. She reviewed in her mind theevents of the previous day; the scene in the church, and her subsequentdeparture therefrom, which she had managed so deftly that, though Müllerwas in the graveyard when she came out, she had evaded him, and joiningAnna, who was waiting for her near the porch, she had succeeded inpassing the pastor without staying to hear what he evidently wished tosay. Frau von Grävenitz chid her sharply for interrupting the sermon, butshe was silenced by Wilhelmine's angry retort and reminder of Müller'smisdeeds. The Sunday afternoon and evening had passed without anyunwonted occurrence. Wilhelmine was tortured by the fact that she had nottold her mother of Friedrich's letter; she had not recovered it fromMüller, though twice she had sent the servant-maid to demand itsrestitution. She intended to reveal the whole story to her mother, when MonsieurGabriel returned with the promised money; for she guessed that the objectof his journey to Schwerin was the procuring of the sum. The light wasfailing rapidly, and Wilhelmine felt intensely dreary and sad. She turnedover the leaves of the book which lay on her lap; it was a volume lenther by Monsieur Gabriel, a book written by Blaise Pascal. Her eye wascaught by a sentence, and she read the wise words of the great thinker:'Love hath its reasons which reason knoweth not. ' Again her attentionwandered from the page; her thoughts were busy with the possibilities ofher destiny. With bitterness she realised that, for her, Love must beeither a renunciation of ambition, a life passed with some simplecountryman, or else a career, a profession, an abnegation of quiet days. Which should she strive for? 'What does it avail a man though he gain thewhole world and lose his own soul?' The words came back to her; but no, she was not made for peaceful days, she would weary of them inevitably. She heard a knock on the house door and, shaking off her unusualdepression, she hurried downstairs. Monsieur Gabriel stood in thecorridor explaining in his scholarly foreign German to the servant-maid, that it was absolutely necessary for him to see Fräulein von Grävenitz, even if madame her mother could not receive him, as he had a matter ofimportance to communicate. He smiled when he saw Wilhelmine--that goodsmile of his, which was at once so kind, so bright, and yet sounutterably sad. 'Ah! dear child!' he said, in French, 'I bring you good news. I haveprocured the money. ' Wilhelmine went quickly up to him, and taking his hand in both of hers, she drew him into the prim little dwelling-room where Frau von Grävenitzreceived her rare guests. 'How can I ever thank you?' she said as sheclosed the door. 'By thinking of me when you are far away, ' he answered, 'and sometimes bysending me a letter to lighten my gloom. ' 'Yes!' she said eagerly; 'but tell me how you procured this great sum?' 'I had a few old trinkets, ' he answered, 'which I had carried with mefrom France. They were hidden in my travelling chest, and I had not evenlooked at them these many years. They reminded me of another life, a lifewhich has nothing to do with the old schoolmaster of Güstrow, ' he addedwith a sigh. He laid a packet on the table, cut the string with hisknife, and began to undo four long rolls within, disclosing the brightedges of twenty-five golden gulden in each roll. 'Twenty-five, fifty, seventy-five, a hundred, ' he counted out. Wilhelmine looked curiously at the coins; she had seldom seen gold piecesbefore, and never in a large quantity. She laid her hand on one of therouleaux. 'Gold is power, they say, ' she murmured. 'The getting of gold is pain, ' the old man answered, and he took her handin his, drawing hers away from the golden heap. At that moment the door opened silently, and Frau von Grävenitz stood onthe threshold. She looked from one to the other, she saw the money on thetable, and Wilhelmine's sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks. MonsieurGabriel's face she could not see, for it was turned away from her towardsWilhelmine; but she could see that he held her hand in his, and all hersuspicions re-awoke. 'What is this?' she said: 'Monsieur Gabriel, why are you bringing moneyto my daughter?' Both Wilhelmine and her friend started. 'For her journeyto Stuttgart, madame, ' he answered. 'Her journey?' said the old woman, 'what journey? What do you mean?' 'Ah! Mademoiselle Wilhelmine has perhaps not had time to communicate herplans to you, madame, ' he replied courteously. 'She told me of herbrother's letter, and as I thought that madame had perhaps not got solarge a sum of money at her disposal at the moment, I have ventured tomake a little gift to my favourite pupil, to enable her to accept herbrother's proposition. Believe me, madame, I esteem it an honour to be ofservice to one whose wonderful gift of music has made my poor life somuch happier than it could have been otherwise. ' 'Wilhelmine, what is the meaning of this?' cried Frau von Grävenitz inher sharpest tones. 'You have received a letter from my son, of which youhave not informed me! You plan things with a stranger, and I am toldnothing! You receive money from a man--what for, I should like to know? Idare not say what terrible thoughts all this awakens in me. Give me yourbrother's letter immediately!' Her voice had risen higher and higher, till she almost screamed the last words. 'I cannot give you the letter, mother, ' Wilhelmine returned quietly, 'Ihave lost it. ' 'Monsieur Gabriel, ' said Frau von Grävenitz, 'perhaps you have got it? Icommand you to hand it over to me. ' 'Madame, I am astounded! Indeed, I have not got the letter, thoughMademoiselle Wilhelmine showed it to me on Saturday morning. ' 'Yes! Saturday morning!' Frau von Grävenitz retorted with a sneer. 'Of atruth, you and my daughter have reason to remember that day. You are acorrupter of youth, and an evil man, Mr. Schoolmaster, and a purloiner ofletters as well. ' Monsieur Gabriel looked from the irate lady to her daughter, inconsternation and bewilderment. 'I fear, madame, that I do not understandyou, ' he said gently; 'you labour under a misapprehension. I have neverhad the letter in my possession. As for your other accusation, I thinkyou are led away by your anger. Indeed, I do not know the meaning of yourwords, madame. ' His calmness only served to madden Frau von Grävenitzfurther. She turned away from him, and seizing Wilhelmine roughly by theshoulder, she hissed in her ear: 'Give me the letter, you wanton!'Wilhelmine started violently, and Monsieur Gabriel made a step forward, as though to defend her; his face flushed deeply, and he said in a steadyvoice: 'Madame de Grävenitz, such an accusation, even from a mother'slips, is a thing to which no woman has the right to submit. ' But Frau vonGrävenitz was beyond hearing; her features were distorted by rage, andher mouth twitched convulsively. 'How dare you address me?' she screamed;'you are my daughter's seducer--go--leave my house, and take the wages ofmy daughter's sin with you!' She came up to the table, and with a sweepof her arm scattered the gold to right and left. 'Mother!' cried Wilhelmine, 'you are mad!' 'Madame, ' said Monsieur Gabriel, 'I can but obey your command to depart, 'and with a profoundly respectful bow to Wilhelmine, he quitted theapartment with quiet dignity. Frau von Grävenitz continued her fierce monologue for some time, withoutinterruption. Wilhelmine stood watching her, till an involuntarybreathless pause in her mother's torrent of words gave her theopportunity of speech. 'You have always been unjust to me, mother, ' shesaid, in a hard, cold voice; 'and to-day you have insulted me, in thepresence of one you called a stranger. Yes; Friedrich wrote, proposingthat I should go and seek a more prosperous life in Wirtemberg. Yes; Itold Monsieur Gabriel. Yes; he said he would give me the money for myjourney. I warn you that I shall go, and it will be of no avail if youattempt to hinder me. ' 'You will not go, ' said Frau von Grävenitz harshly. 'The money you haveearned by your dishonour I shall give to the poor. ' 'It is not yours to give, ' answered Wilhelmine coldly. 'We shall see, ' replied her mother grimly, and commenced an undignifiedscramble beneath the table, as she gathered up the scattered gold pieces. When she had found all, and carefully counted it out, she placed it in anoaken cupboard, double locked the door thereof, and placed the key in herpocket, Wilhelmine watching her the while. The evening meal was eaten in utter silence. Frau von Grävenitzsuperintended the washing up of the plates, knives, and forks; then goingto the house door she fastened it securely, taking the key with her. While the old woman was occupied at the house door, Wilhelmine slipped upthe stairs, with the noiseless tread of a cat, and abstracted the keyfrom her mother's bedroom door, then passing to her attic she undressed, and, wrapping her bedgown round her, lay down on her bed. The stolen keyshe tied firmly in a knot of her hair, close to her head, well hidden byher thick curls. Having accomplished this, she feigned sleep. As sheexpected, her mother soon discovered the absence of the key, and after afruitless search in her own room she stormed into Wilhelmine's attic, andaccused her of having removed it. The girl looked at her from sleepyeyes, and denied all knowledge of the missing article. Frau von Grävenitzsearched the room, and then bidding her daughter rise, she felt beneathher mattress and pillow. Then she ran her hand over her daughter's body, but she never thought of examining the waves of hair, under which the keywas safely hidden. At length, she was satisfied that it was not in herdaughter's keeping, and she retired to bed grumbling. Wilhelmine listened attentively for some half-hour, then gently pushedaside the covering and noiselessly unlatched the door. She crept towardsher mother's door and listened. For some time she heard nothing, but atlength her patience was rewarded by the sound of a long, even breath, andshe knew her mother was asleep. Wilhelmine returned to her apartment. Slowly and silently she resumed her clothes. Fortunately there was amoon, and the room was flooded with pale light. She did not put on boots, skirt, or cloak, but deposited these in a heap on the corridor floor. Then she approached her mother's door, and listened once more; theregular breaths were quite audible now. Softly she lifted the latch, andpassed into the room. The moon was hidden for a moment, and the room wasin utter darkness. She crouched, and carefully drew the door to behindher; it creaked, and Frau von Grävenitz moved in her sleep. Wilhelminecrouched lower, and taking a kerchief from her breast pushed it beneaththe door, to steady it. She waited motionless till her mother's breathingtold her that she was really asleep, and then, with noiseless tread, sheapproached the sleeper. The clouds shifted and the moon shone in, showingFrau von Grävenitz's face livid and deathlike in the luminous moonshine. The girl shuddered; it was like robbing a corpse, she thought. But herhesitation was momentary; she pushed her flexible hand beneath hermother's pillow, and her fingers closed on the cold iron of a key. Shedrew it out, but she felt rather than saw that it was not the one wanted. She was stretching out her hand to seek for the other key, when thesleeper stirred uneasily, murmuring some incomprehensible word, andWilhelmine cowered down once more. The old woman turned round in bed, sothat she faced the crouching girl; her face was now in shadow, andWilhelmine could not see whether the eyes were open or shut. She waitedfor what seemed hours in that hunched-up position. After some time, theeven breathing recommenced, and Wilhelmine ventured to kneel up besidethe bed, but now a fresh difficulty confronted her: to reach the otherkey, provided it lay beneath the pillow, she must pass her hand underthat portion of the pillow upon which Frau von Grävenitz's head rested. She wriggled her hand in, and the point of her fingers touched the key;but it was too far away for her to grasp it, and her efforts only pushedit further. She withdrew her hand, and waited till the clouds floatedover the moon. When the welcome darkness came, she bent over her mother, and lifting the further edge of the pillow quickly found the key. Thenshe crept noiselessly to the threshold, took her kerchief, and shut thedoor silently. Safe in the corridor, she caught up her bundle of garmentsand groped her way down the stairs, which creaked under her, but sheheard no movement in the house, though she listened attentively at thefoot of the stairs. Swiftly she gained the dwelling-room, fitted the keyinto the oaken press, unlocked it, and took out the rolls of gold. Inanother moment she stood in the snow-covered street, the money for herjourney safe in her hand. Wilhelmine von Grävenitz had taken the first step of an extraordinarycareer. CHAPTER IV THE JOURNEY 'When the meadow glows, and the orchard snows, And the air's with love notes teeming, When fancies break, and the senses wake, O, life's a dream worth dreaming. ' W. E. HENLEY. A HEAVY, leaden sky hung over the small town of Cannstatt, and the peoplelooked with foreboding at the lowering black clouds, and the weather-wiseforetold a furious thunder-storm. For many weeks the heavens had smiledas though summer had come, though in truth the spring was but just begun, and May counted but few days. The trees of the forest were donning theirleafy garments, the orchards were white and pink with apple, pear, andcherry blossom, and the young grass stood tall and feathery in anunusually early maturity. Of course the peasants grumbled, as peasantsalways do; they complained of the heat and shook their heads over abelated frost, which they declared must come to chastise the forwardnessof the growing things; they demanded rain from the smiling blue heavens, and contemplated gloomily the tender, green shoots of the vines. Butwhen, in answer to their prayers for rain, the sky lowered and the sunvanished, they grumbled again and spoke of the hailstones, which wouldcome to dash the blossoms of the fruit-trees and break the young vines. All day the thunder had menaced but had not fulfilled the threat, andwhen evening fell the air was still heavily oppressive. A rumbling soundcaused the people to run to their lattice windows and look up at the sky, wondering if the storm had come at last; but it was only the echo ofcarriage-wheels rolling through the mediæval archway, which led to thefields beyond the town. The diligence drew up ponderously at the door ofthe Hotel Zur Post, and the driver descended equally ponderously, demanding loudly a drink of good Wirtemberg wine. Meanwhile an imperiousvoice from the conveyance could be heard inquiring whether they hadarrived at Stuttgart, and if not, where they were. No one answering thisquery, a hand was visible thrust out of the clumsy diligence, in anattempt to unfasten the catch which held the door firm. A bystander cameforward and undid the door, and a tall woman stood on the step of thecoach looking around her. As she put her foot to the ground in herfurther descent, a brilliant flash of forked lightning, followedimmediately by a tremendous detonation of thunder, announced the storm'sadvent. Rain began to fall in torrents, as though the clouds were rent asunderand poured long pent-up anger upon the world. The lady hastened to theporch of the Gasthof to seek shelter, and the driver of the coach led histired horses under cover of a shed in the courtyard. The chief room ofthe inn was a cheerless apartment, long and dark, with narrow, roughwooden tables fitted round the walls. A strong, stale smell greeted thenose disagreeably. One or two peasants sat at the far end of one of thetables; they stared rudely as the lady entered, and whispered remarksabout her, grinning broadly the while. She glanced haughtily at them andcalled to the innkeeper, who had followed her from the courtyard, desiring him to bring her food and wine. He went slowly to a paintedwooden cupboard, which stood against the wall at the back of the room, and returned with a lump of coarse bread and some raw ham which he setdown on the dirty table. Taking an earthenware jug from before the groupof peasants, he brought it to add to the lady's unappetising meal. 'Goodwine last year here, ' he said. 'Then, at least, something is good, HerrWirth, in your inn!' she answered; 'but tell me, ' she continued, with asmile which almost charmed even the boorish innkeeper, 'how far is it toStuttgart, and what is the name of this village?' 'Village? Lady, it is atownship, and much older than Stuttgart! It is Cannstatt, where theRomans have left a camp, but Stuttgart is the finer because the Duke'scourt is there. You have travelled far?' he added, his curiosity gettingthe better of the unfriendly distrust with which the Wirtembergerregards all strangers. 'From the far north, ' she answered shortly. 'Youhave never been in our country before?' he asked; 'well, you have anill-omened day for your arrival; the storm greeted you!' The ladystarted. 'Thank you for reminding me, ' she said, 'I dislike ill omens. 'The man grinned: it delighted his honest soul to have succeeded inannoying a foreigner. 'You will reach Stuttgart to-night, for it is onlyhalf a league from here. Is Stuttgart your destination?' he asked. 'Perhaps, ' she answered, and turned away; the man's curiosity was, evidently, little to her taste. However, another thought seemed to cometo her, for she turned again towards him, and, with a smile of infinitesweetness, began to question him on the country, the people, and thecourt. At first he answered shortly enough, but the lady fixed her eyesupon him. Gradually he felt (he told the tale often in later days) a sortof dream-feeling creep over him, and he replied to all her questionsfully, telling her everything he knew of the country gossip: how the Dukewas heartily weary of his wife, Duchess Johanna Elizabetha; how she waseternally jealous of him; of how a Frau von Geyling held the Dukeenthralled; that the Erbprinz was a sickly child of nine years old, whomen said could not be long for this world. He told her of the people'shatred of a Herr von Stafforth, a foreigner, who had become very mightyin Stuttgart; in fact he gossiped freely, and perhaps, in his half-hour'stalk, let her discover more of the people's thoughts, and the dangerouslydiscontented state of the country, than was known to the ministers ofWirtemberg. At length the lady rose and requested him to see if the stormhad sufficiently abated for the coach to continue its journey. The manwent out rubbing his eyes; he felt as if he had been half asleep. The storm was over, and only the rain fell quietly as the coach rumbledout of Cannstatt and across the bridge over the Neckar. The lady leanedback against the wooden side of the diligence and closed her eyes. Shereflected that she must be near Stuttgart, and she wondered what herdestiny would be in the town which she was nearing in the darkness. Gradually the monotonous creaking and the jolting of the heavy vehiclemade her drowsy, also she felt the warmth of the potent Wirtemberg wineglow through her tired limbs. The coach passed through the outskirts ofStuttgart, but Wilhelmine von Grävenitz, for it was she, slept and didnot see the outlying houses of that town, where Fate willed she shouldplay so important a part. Wilhelmine had tarried in Berlin with her sister, Frau Sittmann, and thedays of her visit had lengthened to weeks ere she had resumed her journeysouthwards, for she had been sick unto death with smallpox. When sherecovered she had almost found it in her heart to return to Güstrow andhide her ravaged beauty; but in reality the fell disease had been verymerciful, and though Wilhelmine's skin was slightly pock-marked, thebloom and colour of her magnificent health and forceful youth renderedthe marks inoffensive. Thus, though long delayed, she had at lastcontinued her adventurous quest. The coach lumbered on, and Wilhelmine woke with a start as a more thanusually violent jolt flung her against the door. She peered out into thedarkness but could see nothing, for the night was absolutely starless. The road was so steep that at moments the heavy carriage threatened torun backwards down the hill, in spite of the straining of the wretchedhorses that struggled onwards, slipping and floundering on the drippingroad. At the top of the hill the driver pulled up to breathe the poorbeasts; he came round to the back of the coach and called to Wilhelminethat if she leaned out of the window she would see the lights of the townof Stuttgart beneath her in the valley. She looked out, and far down shesaw lights glittering through the night. There were only a few visible, for the windows of most of the houses were probably curtained to shut outthe wet night. Wilhelmine drew back into the diligence with a sense ofdisappointment. She had dreamed of a splendid city, and this seemed likea village. She slept again, and it was the morning sun shining on her face whichroused her. She looked out of the window once more, and this time asmiling landscape met her eye. The route ran between green fields, and oneach side of the road were huge, gnarled apple and pear trees, whichspring had crowned with a glory of snowy blossom. In the near distancerose rounded, fir-clad hills, here and there the sombre colour broken bythe delicate verdure of young beech leaves. A delicious morning airkissed Wilhelmine's cheeks and lips as she leaned out of the window, wafting to her the faint, sweet breath of the fruit blossom mixed withthe smell of the wet fields and woods. 'What a glorious country!' shesaid aloud, and she called to the driver to stop and let her rest heraching limbs in a few minutes' walk. The man opened the door and bade her'Grüss Gott, Fräulein, ' and even the surly tone in which the words wereuttered could not spoil the beauty of the friendly South German greeting. 'All the fields and the woods say "Grüss Gott" to-day, I think!' shereturned. The heavy Swabian peasant stared at her. 'What ridiculousthings these foreigners say!' was written so clearly in his face, thatWilhelmine laughed outright. 'Where do we change horses next?' she queried. He told her at Tübingen inan hour's time, and that they would reach her destination, Rottenburg, about twelve of the clock. When they rattled in to the old town ofTübingen the driver informed her that they made an hour's halt there. 'Unless indeed, ' he added, 'you choose to travel to Rottenburg by specialpost-chaise, at a cost of twelve gulden. ' But Wilhelmine had few gulden to spare, and she decided to wander aboutthe town until the ordinary diligence started for Rottenburg. She climbedthe steep road to the ancient castle. The moat was filled with flowersand shrubs. It surprised her to see this peaceful garrison of thefortifications of a stronghold so soon after the invasion of Wirtembergby the troops of Louis XIV. She questioned a peasant who was loiteringnear the drawbridge. He laughed at her, and endeavoured to be witty ather expense, after the agreeable manner of the Swabian, who thinkshimself entitled to poke clumsy fun at any questioner. He condescended, however, to inform her that in fertile Wirtemberg flowers and all growingthings find a home each spring in any and every nook and cranny, carelessthat their forbears of a twelvemonth have been uprooted. 'A beautiful land, ' she murmured, 'peopled by boors!' She turned awayfrom her discourteous informant and contemplated the grey walls of thecastle, so strong and grim, yet dressed with the gracious flowers of alavish spring. As she stood admiring the wonderful Renaissance gateway, one side of the huge door was pushed open and a young man in student'sdress emerged. His face, though sickly and emaciated, interested her byreason of its vivid intelligence and a certain mocking look of eye andlip. 'Sir, ' said Wilhelmine, as the youth approached over the drawbridge, 'could I see the castle, do you think? I am a stranger and have an hourto pass in Tübingen, and I would fain wile away the time of my stayhere. ' He told her she was at liberty to wander through the courtyard; heneed but request the doorkeeper to admit her. 'I am a student in thisuniversity, ' he explained, 'for though this castle is in reality a royalresidence, the students occupy one side of the quadrangle; and, in truth, his Highness Eberhard Ludwig seldom visits his fortress of Tübingen. ' Shethanked him for his courtesy and would have passed on alone, but thestudent followed her through the peaceful courtyard, proudly pointing outto her the fine workmanship of the fountain. Then he made her peepthrough the windows of the library, which filled one side of thebuilding. There she saw black-robed students poring over the books. 'Melanchthon lectured there, ' he said; 'Erasmus was here, and the learnedDr. Faustus of Maulbronn came and studied here, so legend says. ' He took her up the moss-grown steps at the end of the courtyard, and outon to the rampart. A view of infinite beauty lay before her: a vastexpanse of green fields through which the river Neckar flows gently, asmiling valley glittering in the morning sunshine and radiant with fruitblossom. In the middle distance were fir-clad hills, while behind themrose blue and misty mountains. The student pointed southwards. 'Overthere is the ruined castle of Hohenzollern. If you have good eyes you cancatch the sun glinting upon one of the few remaining towers. It is theancient home of that strong race which rules Prussia. This SouthernGermany is the birthland of great races. Hohenstauffen is anothermountain in this range; but you cannot see it from here, it is too far. 'The student spoke dreamily, as though the changing destinies of masterraces lay before him in a vision. Wilhelmine leant against the stonebalustrade and gazed at the beautiful country. She was interested in thescholar's talk, and she waited, hoping he would continue; but as he didnot speak, she asked him whether the castle of the Hohenstauffens stillexisted. He told her that not one stone remained upon another. 'Vanishedlike the proud race which was called by its name, only a memory now tothe few who love the past!' he said. 'All things vanish, Fräulein, ' hecontinued, 'the good, the great, the wrong, the glory, and the tears; thewise man must carve his name on the _lives_ of those around him if hewould benefit by power. The noble deed carved on stone raised to do ushonour after death is almost mockery. Personal power during our lives, riches, enjoyment, all that dominion over others gives----' He paused andlaughed harshly. Wilhelmine looked at him. 'What power do you seek, Mr. Student?' sheasked curiously. 'For myself, little! I wish for a sufficiency of money to be able topursue my studies, that is all. I am a theologian, and shall be a pastorin a few months' time, and the occupation with the uninteresting peasantsouls of a country parish is little to my taste. ' Wilhelmine observed him narrowly. This man might prove useful, shereflected, if she should desire a service, and if she were in a positionto pay for it. 'Tell me your name, ' she said. He told her--Otto Pfahler, and in return he begged her to tell him who she was; but she evaded thequestion, and asked him concerning the history of Tübingen. There is nobeing on earth more easy to manage than an historical enthusiast who hasseldom the opportunity of expatiating on the legends which he loves; youhave but to turn his mind to the past, he will wander off therein, andyou need not even listen, provided you have the wit to nod in aninterested way at intervals. Pfahler talked on as he accompaniedWilhelmine across the courtyard, and she was able to dismiss him with abow and a word of thanks for his historic anecdotes, without divulgingher identity. When Wilhelmine regained the diligence, she found the horses alreadyharnessed and the driver climbing upon the box. She took her place inthe clumsy vehicle and recommenced her journey. The road from Tübingen to Rottenburg winds through the valley of theNeckar for some ten miles. It is the usual South German high-road, bordered by large fruit-trees; but to Wilhelmine, coming from the bleaknorthern winter, it seemed as though she had been set down in Fairyland. The white and pink blossoms of the fruit-trees, the strong high grasswhitened by the luxuriant growth of the cow-parsley, touched here andthere with the gold of the giant kingcups, and, as though the Master'spalette had been robbed of all its colours to complete this radiantspring picture, the very earth of the vineyards below the fresh green ofthe vine sprouts shone with the rich red brown of the Wirtemberg soil, which is one more opulent charm added to the beauty of an indescribablylovely spring country. Rottenburg lies in the centre of this valley; theNeckar flows placidly half way round the small town. The diligence rolledover a mediæval bridge which spans the river, and Wilhelmine foundherself at the end of her tedious, rattling journey. She stepped out ofthe coach and looked about her, expecting to see her brother. The narrow street was empty, save for several black-gowned figures movingslowly towards an enormous building, which flanked one side of a squareor market-place, at the end of the street. As she stood a moment hesitating, she heard herself addressed from thedoor of the inn, before which the diligence had halted. Turning she saw amost suave personage bowing and smiling, and imploring her to enter thehostelry. Wilhelmine looked with interest at the man, evidently theinnkeeper, yet of so clerical an appearance that she thought he must be aparticularly prosperous priest. She entered the inn, and was orderingherself some slight refreshment from her obsequious host when bells fromsome neighbouring church rang out. The innkeeper crossed his brow andbreast with the third finger of his right hand, while with his left handhe piously hid his eyes. He recited some prayers in a mumbling undertone, then crossing himself once more, he turned with an oily smile toWilhelmine. 'The Angelus, ' he said; 'evidently Madame is not of theFaith. Here in Rottenburg we are all members of the true Church. We havehad the privilege of having a Jesuit college here these many years. ' Wilhelmine made some appropriate answer, and noted for the first time inher personal experience the truth of a remark of Monsieur Gabriel's, thatone of the strengths of the Catholic Church is the semi-clericalising ofthe laymen who live in or near any religious centre. It flatters theuneducated to feel themselves akin to their spiritual dictators, and itgives them a spurious refinement. Undoubtedly, the host of the RömischerKaiser was an excellent specimen of this class. Wilhelmine, having partaken of her breakfast, was setting out to walktowards the Neuhaus, where her brother had directed her to appear, whenshe saw Friedrich Grävenitz coming down the street. He greeted his sisterhastily, and explained that the diligence had arrived before the usualhour. He apologised for not having been at the inn to welcome his sisteron her arrival, but it struck Wilhelmine that though her brother hadgained in polish of manner since he had become a courtier, he had lostthe warmth and friendliness which had characterised him in earlier days. She felt chilled and saddened, and it was in silence that she walkedbeside him across the fields from Rottenburg to Madame de Ruth's house. Astout peasant followed them carrying her scanty baggage. Friedrich talkedvolubly to his unresponsive companion, and though he expressed the hope, with much politeness, that she was not fatigued by her journey, he didnot listen to her reply, but plunged into an exact account of his ownposition at court and of his poverty and difficulties. His sister wasweary, and an overpowering sense of loneliness possessed her; she hadalways known her brother to be an egoist, but a certain spontaneous, easykindness had masked his self-love when he was in Mecklemburg. They walked over the field before the house, passed through thetree-shaded garden, up the red-tiled garden-path to the side door of theNeuhaus, and Friedrich knocked loudly with the handle of his cane on thepanel. Madame de Ruth's peasant servant admitted them, and led the waythrough the dark corridor to the panelled room, where, three monthsearlier, it had been decided that Wilhelmine should be summoned toWirtemberg to help fill her brother's purse. The sunshine streamed down on the garden without, but the room waschilly, and Wilhelmine shivered a little as she stood waiting for herunknown hostess to appear. It could not be said that Wilhelmine was atimid woman, yet hers was one of those natures which, though ready toattempt many things, shrink unaccountably at any touch of dreariness, andalmost dread meeting strangers. She looked at her brother, who stood withhis back turned towards the room, gazing out at the sunlit garden. Shenoted his broad shoulders, the graceful pose of the body, the straight, shapely legs, and the slightness of hip which distinguished him from theusual heavily-built German. There was beauty in his lines, and yet acertain strangeness of proportion in the whole figure which puzzled herfor a moment; then she noticed the extreme smallness of his head, and thecurious absence of development in the back of the skull, which gave him awell-bred but foolish look. He was quite amiable, and meant kindlytowards his sister, yet he was incapable of helping in what was for her adifficult moment; indeed, he added to her feeling of loneliness by hisloud talk and patronising air. At length the door opened and Madame deRuth appeared. She came forward with hands outstretched and a smile ofwelcome on her kind, ugly face, which became most genial when she saw herguest's undoubted beauty. 'A thousand pardons for keeping you waiting, mydear! I was not dressed, lazy old woman that I am! And how fatigued youmust be, dear child; such a journey!--Grävenitz, have you not offeredyour sister some refreshment? Good Lord! what an idea! What? You say youhave been talking? Yes, yes, I warrant you have!' Her sharp eyes hadtaken in the situation. Madame de Ruth, though she talked, as Zollernsaid, 'like a book, ' had the faculty of talking and observing at the sametime. People think that the talkers of the world are so occupied withtheir own prattle that their eyes remain idle; whereas some of the mostpractised observers, especially those of the feminine sex, have learnedthat it is possible to extract more information from others by appearingto impart much, and that a flow of speech masks the observation to agreat extent. The garrulous lady saw the brother's pompous attitude; shehad caught the tones of his unmodulated voice before she entered, and shenoticed immediately the shadow on the girl's face and guessed what thenew arrival felt. Wilhelmine responded readily to Madame de Ruth. Soon the girl felt asthough she had known her for years. After a few minutes' conversation thetwo ladies left the formal living-room, and passed up a broad woodenstair to a room on the first floor, where Wilhelmine found her fewbelongings already set down. It was a pretty room for those days, thoughwe should now consider it but insufficiently furnished. Bare, brown-stained boards, a narrow wooden bedstead, a couple of carved woodenchairs, a large carved cupboard, and a table, on which stood a tinywashing-basin and ewer of beautiful porcelain, completed theappointments. The hostess rattled on cheerfully while Wilhelmine divestedherself of the cloak and hood. She realised that Madame de Ruth intendedto remain, curious to see the contents of the travelling-basket; but thiswas precisely what the guest did not desire, for she had no wish toexpose the scantiness of her wardrobe to her new friend. She sat down onone of the wooden chairs opposite her hostess, and listened to thevoluble talk. Both women knew exactly what the other wanted, and bothwere equally determined not to be beaten; also both knew that the otherknew what they each wanted. It was one of those small feminine conflictswhich take place every day. The older woman's tongue ran on, while hersharp eyes noted every shade and change in her guest's face. Wilhelmineanswered the many questions frankly enough, but Madame de Ruth observedwith satisfaction that she told only such things as all the world mighthear. There were no outbursts of girlish confidences, no indiscreetquestions; she was mistress of the situation, and if she showed anyshyness, it was never either awkward or foolish, but seemed merely adelightful youthful attribute, an added charm. Her hostess felt adeepening interest. This girl would be a more potent factor in theintrigues for which they had destined her than they had dreamed. Shewatched Wilhelmine as a full-grown tigress might watch the play of atiger cub, noting the promise of each movement, gauging the strength ofthe young animal, and calculating the fighting powers which it woulddevelop. At length Madame de Ruth rose, and, drawing Wilhelmine to her, she kissed her affectionately. 'You have a future before you, my dear, 'she said, and her fine smile lit her face. 'You have bewitched me, andyou will bewitch others of more importance. Now, dress. We dine at threeo'clock, and the Duke of Zollern will be with us. ' * * * * * The Duke of Zollern was seated at Madame de Ruth's right hand; Monsieurde Stafforth, Oberhofmarshall of the court of Wirtemberg, was at herleft; Madame Friedrich de Grävenitz sat beside the Duke to his right;beside her was the Freiherr von Reischach, a gentleman famous for hisfine courtliness and his experience in war and love; Friedrich Grävenitzsat next to him, and then came Wilhelmine seated between her brother andMonsieur de Stafforth, opposite her hostess and the Duke of Zollern. Madame de Ruth sat with her back turned towards the light; she knew thevalue of shadow to an ageing face, and always declared that the glarehurt her eyes, though, God knows, these were neither weak nor easilydazzled. The Duke of Zollern, too, liked to have the light behind him. 'It is fitting for the old to turn their backs to the sunshine, ' he hadremarked as they took their places at the table, 'for, indeed, the lightof youth is behind us, shining, alas! on the paths we have alreadytraversed. For the young--let the sunshine lie before them, making theiryouth still more fair--if possible. ' And he had bowed in his inimitableway to Wilhelmine, who delighted in this courteous speech, though she wasperfectly aware that he and Madame de Ruth had placed her in the fulllight in order to study her the better. Of a truth, Wilhelmine lookedwonderfully lovely that afternoon. Her luxuriant hair, innocent ofpowder, was piled high on her head, and turned back from off her whitebrow; the glow of perfect health was in her cheeks, and her strangemagnetic eyes were softened by shyness. She had fashioned herself abodice out of the feast-day kerchiefs which Mecklemburg peasant womenwear; cutting off the flowered borders, she had joined them together andmade a deep hem which she had sewn on her dark blue linen skirt. Thecorsage was cut down at the back, and the front she had cut out in a deepV shape, showing her creamy neck and the gentle rise of her breast. Apoor garment indeed, but the kerchiefs had been carefully collected, andwere all of the same delicate pink colour, and she had further softenedthe lines round the contour of her neck by a folded white kerchief. Ather bosom she had fastened a spray of apple-blossom, and the petalsleaning against her white skin were not more delicate, more divinelyyoung than her breast. She looked like a blossom herself as the sunlighttouched her, and the men round the dinner-table gazed so eagerly at her, that she knew she must be more beautiful than the ladies of the court, albeit their gowns were of silk. No dinner could be dull if Madame de Ruth was there; and Zollern, withhis courtly grace and witty talk, was a host in himself. Reischach wassilent, but his openly admiring looks at Wilhelmine pleased her more thanthe phrases of a talkative gallant. As for Grävenitz, he talked loudly, according to his wont, paying but little heed to the random answers ofMonsieur de Stafforth, who like Reischach was occupied with Wilhelmine. But, unlike Reischach, Stafforth's admiration, though not so open, hadthat touch of coarseness which is so often the mark of the bourgeois'approval. Madame de Grävenitz, it was evident, entirely disapproved ofWilhelmine. She was a pretty, colourless devotee, and she felt hersister-in-law's beauty and obvious fascination to be almost indecorous. Madame de Ruth chattered as usual, though at moments she paused towhisper a comment to Zollern, who answered in a low voice by some subtleirony which caused the lady much amusement. The dinner was very long, andit was with relief that Wilhelmine saw her hostess rise from the table. 'Coffee in the garden, mes amis! and then Mademoiselle de Grävenitzshall sing to us. There is a clavichord in the panelled room, and we willleave the garden door open in order to hear the music. Come, Marie! whata gloomy face! Why must the pious be gloomy? Lord, girl! forget your sinsfor once, or you will exhaust the stock, and then there will be nothingto repent of. Think, my dear, ' she said, turning to Wilhelmine, 'yoursister-in-law is a saint. O Monseigneur, you shake a finger at me! Brook?Who talks of brooks? Ah, well, I talk too much!--well, well!--An accounton the Last Day of my words? I pity the angel who adds up the sum! Butcome, coffee! and a moment's silence, my friends!' They all laughed. Madame de Ruth's vivacity was infectious; and evenMarie Grävenitz was smiling, as the party passed through the living-roomand into the garden. They went down the red-tiled path, and, turning tothe left, came to a stone bench before which, on a square table, theservant had placed the coffee and seven tiny porcelain cups. Madame deRuth busied herself preparing the coffee for her guests, and Zollernwatched her, seated near on the bench. Marie Grävenitz walked a shortdistance away, her demure figure harmonising well with the peace of theformal garden; Grävenitz leaned against the back of the bench and lookedwith complacency at the good brown coffee, which his hostess was pouringinto the little cups. Coffee was expensive, and being regarded as a greatluxury, was only dispensed in very small quantities. Reischach andMonsieur de Stafforth were dallying with Wilhelmine, who stood listeningto their compliments with a smile on her lips. 'Mademoiselle, ' Stafforth was saying, 'the court will rejoice in yourpresence. We crave for youth--more still, we crave for beauty! HisHighness will welcome you, though, I trow, Madame the Duchess may notprove so gracious! But when will you come to Stuttgart? It will be myprivilege to herald your arrival. ' 'Monsieur, I am guided by my brother in these matters. He is myprotector, as is fitting, ' she said, a trifle haughtily. Monsieur deStafforth's obsequious, yet patronising tone displeased her, and somehowshe desired him to know that her brother stood at her side in the world. 'Mademoiselle is right, ' said Reischach shortly, 'these things will bearranged. The coffee waits you, Monsieur; it would be a pity should yourportion get cold. ' He spoke lightly, but Wilhelmine recognised the man ofbreeding in the covert hint to Stafforth. It pleased her, and she smiledat him. Stafforth, for his part, apparently paid no heed to the rebuff, though Wilhelmine surprised an ugly glance and a faint deepening of thehue of his coarsely chiselled, handsome face. At this moment Madame deRuth called them, and they gathered round the table. They drank theircoffee, listening to a highly coloured story of the wars which FriedrichGrävenitz was recounting. His Grace the Duke of Marlborough, the herothereof, a sorry figure, as the reluctant victim of a lady of Ingolstadt, whose advances he refused, trembling lest his haughty Sarah should hearof it and give him a sound rating on his return to England. The anecdotewas broad, to say the least, and sure it did not lose in the telling. 'Agreat captain, but sorely afraid of his lady!' finished Grävenitz with aloud laugh. 'It is the privilege of the truly brave to tremble before beauty andgentleness, ' said Zollern sharply. 'The prerogative of fools to set them at naught, ' he added in a low voiceto Madame de Ruth. There was a pause. Grävenitz himself, who should havebeen uncomfortable, seemed to notice nothing, but the rest of the companyfelt the moment to be one of difficulty. Stafforth offered his arm toWilhelmine and proposed a short stroll through the garden to the orchard;and the girl, glad to escape the spectacle of her brother's swaggeringtactlessness, accepted, and they walked away together beneath the tendergreen of the beech-trees. The orchard was an enchanted spot, such a marvel of blossom overhead, like rose-tinted foam, while under foot the grass was full of springflowers, the cow-parsley sending up a delicious faint fragrance, mingledwith the smell of the earth wet from the night's rain. Stafforth found astack of orchard poles, and dragging from beneath the heap the dryest ofthem, he arranged a resting-place for Wilhelmine. They sat down, and herecounted stories of court life in general and of Stuttgart inparticular. He portrayed the Duchess Johanna Elizabetha, a Princess ofBaden-Durlach by birth. He told of her good qualities, but also of herdullness; of her eternal jealousy of her husband, Eberhard Ludwig, Dukeof Wirtemberg; of how the Duke sought entertainment with other ladies, but that the reign of each was short-lived, for the Duke really had afaithful soul and returned to his excellent, wearisome spouse. How aMadame de Geyling was queen of the present hour; that she was a foolishwoman with a bad temper, who offended the courtiers and rated the Duke;of how the court expected an imminent change of affection, but that noone could imagine who the new favourite would be. He told her that theDuke was a brilliant soldier, the friend and companion-in-arms of hisGrace of Marlborough, a polished courtier too, the finest dancer of hisday, and a very Phæton with horses. Withal a man of learning andrefinement, a passionate lover of music, a dreamer and a child of Nature, who loved to wander alone in the beautiful Wirtemberg forests, and oftenin the summer would stay in the woods all night, sleeping upon the soft, brown carpet of last year's leaves. Stafforth spoke of the perpetualintrigues of the Romish priests to convert the Duke and gain the countryback to the Catholic Church; he told her stories of the French invasionof Wirtemberg, and how it was feared that the French would return to theattack, and that therefore the Duke was occupied in Stuttgart gathering anew army, though he masked those preparations by a series of brilliantcourt gaieties. 'There is to be a magnificent feast in a few weeks' timeat Stuttgart, theatricals, a banquet, a stag-hunt, and a grand ball. Willyou honour my wife and me by accepting our hospitality for that time?Your brother has rooms in the quarters set apart for the Kammerjunkers;Madame de Ruth also has but a small apartment in the castle, not largeenough to entertain a guest. But I have a house with ample accommodation, and it would give me much pleasure if you would come. Madame de Stafforthtoo, ' he added as an afterthought. Wilhelmine accepted. She felt that this was no sudden proposition but anorganised scheme, probably of Madame de Ruth's. 'You must play a part in the theatricals, Mademoiselle. The rehearsalsbegin next week; will you come then?' 'Let us go and consult Madame de Ruth, ' she replied, rising. They rejoined the group round the table, and Stafforth made his proposalas though it were a new idea which had come to him. Madame de Ruthfeigned surprise; Grävenitz played the part of the grateful brother;Zollern acclaimed the notion as excellent. Wherefore all this comedy?thought Wilhelmine, for she realised that her programme had been fixed bythese schemers, and that this was merely the first act. She looked round:ah, yes, Reischach! he was the audience for this play-acting. He wasintended to remain ignorant. Wilhelmine smiled; she was in the presenceof three practised intriguers--Zollern, Madame de Ruth, Stafforth. Sheherself was to be a tool, as her brother already was. Well, let theirscheme carry her as far as it could; afterwards, she promised herself togo onward aided by her own ingenuity alone, once she knew her ground. Atpresent she was not sure at whom the plot was aimed, though she had asuspicion that it was the Duke himself whom she was designed to capture, in order to further some unknown plans of her three protectors. She didnot count her brother; she recognised him as a mere pawn in the game. 'Mademoiselle to take part in the theatricals?' Madame de Ruth wassaying; 'delightful! but which part? You must sing, my dear. Your brothersays your voice is wonderful! Let us hear you now. Come, mes amis!music!' Reischach led the newcomer to the clavichord in the panelledroom, and the company gathered near the garden-door to listen. Wilhelmine ran her fingers over the keyboard. The instrument was old, andthough the notes rang true, they were faint and jingly. A lesser artistmight have endeavoured to amplify the chords, but Wilhelmine played heraccompaniment in thin arpeggios, making the clavichord sound like astringed instrument, and achieving a charming effect. She sang a gaylittle sixteenth-century song, such a one as perchance Chastelard mayhave sung to Marie of Scots in their happy days in France--a lightmelody, with a sudden change to the minor in the refrain, like a sighfollowing laughter. Wilhelmine's hearers, who had expected a beautiful, untrained voice from this provincial lady, listened in unfeignedsurprise, and when the song was ended they crowded round her withexpressions of delight. 'We have found a pearl!' declared Madame de Ruth. 'Stafforth, what isthis play which they are going to act at Stuttgart? Who sings in it?Madame de Geyling?--of course! Well, and after?--no one? Well, then, Mademoiselle shall sing! Let it come as a surprise!' Reischach approached. 'Monsieur de Reischach, I count you in our plot! We want our new friendto make a sensation in Stuttgart. We can rely on your discretion? Let hercome as a surprise, I beg you! Remember that the lute of Orpheus itselfcould not have charmed the beasts had they been warned to expect toomuch. ' Reischach bowed. 'No word from me, Madame, to warn--the beasts!' Madame de Ruth laughed. 'Do not apply my allegory literally, ' she said. The company broke up; the Duke of Zollern's coach was at the door. AlsoMonsieur de Stafforth took his leave, for he intended to ride toStuttgart that evening. As Zollern bade farewell to his hostess, she whispered, 'She will doadmirably! she will go far. ' 'Too far, perhaps, Madame, ' he answered; 'too far for all ourcalculations, and for many people's comfort!' CHAPTER V THE PLAY-ACTING AT eight of the clock on the evening of 15th May 1706, the main street ofStuttgart was crowded with a stream of coaches and foot-passengers. Thecries of the running footmen: 'Make way there for his Highness the Dukeof Zollern!' 'Room for the high and nobly born Freifrau von Geyling!''Let pass the coach of the gracious Countess Gemmingen!' 'Ho, there! forthe Witgenstein's coach!' mixed with the comments of the rabble ofsightseers, and the retorts of the substantial burghers who were pilotingtheir wives and daughters through the mob. All these wayfarers were boundfor the great dancing-hall in the Lusthaus, whither they were bidden bySerenissimus, the magnificent Duke Eberhard Ludwig of Wirtemberg, who hadcommanded a brilliant ball as commencement of a series of festivities. There was to be a grand hunt in the Red Wood, and finally courttheatricals in his Highness's own playhouse. The beautiful castle gardenswere illuminated with a myriad coloured lamps in the trees; therose-garden had become an enchanted bower, with little lanterns twinklingin each rose-bush, and the fountain in the centre was so lit up withvaried lights that the spray assumed a thousand hues. Hidden bands ofmusicians played in the garden, and, in fact, it was said that Stuttgartwould never have witnessed such a brilliant festival. The Duke hadtravelled in many lands--to France, where the court had been so gay andfine before its King Louis XIV. Became a death-fearing, trembling bigot, dragging out the last years of a dissipated life in terrified prayers. Poor Roi Soleil, become the creature of his mistress, Madame la Marquisede Maintenon! Still, though Eberhard Ludwig had not been in time towitness this first splendour, he had been able to learn in France of howfine feasts should be ordered. He had been in England too, though hecould not have seen much there in the dull days of William of Nassau, orof good, ponderous Queen Anne; yet all travel teaches, and evidently theDuke had learnt its pleasant lesson well. Wilhelmine sat in Monsieur de Stafforth's fine coach with Madame deStafforth--a gentle, silent lady, whom Stafforth had chosen for her noblebirth and yielding ways. She was perfectly unimportant; Stafforth neverconsidered her, and the only person who was known to notice her was herHighness Johanna Elizabetha, who was, indeed, something akin to her innature. Madame de Stafforth sat meekly on the back seat of her husband'ssplendid coach, leaving the place of honour on the front seat to herhusband and his guest, rewarded sufficiently for her diffidence by asmile which her handsome lord threw her, as he lay back on the yellowsatin cushions of his over-decorated coach. It was but a step to the castle gate, and as Oberhofmarshall Stafforthmight have walked through the Duke's private garden and gained a sideentrance to the castle, and thence traversed the short distance to theLusthaus, but he chose rather to drive through the crowd in order toarrive with ostentatious flourish. The coach drew up at the entrance, and many curious eyes were fixed uponthe Oberhofmarshall as he led his guest through the throng to the door ofthe disrobing room. Madame de Stafforth followed, and, being unable topush her way so quickly past the people, it was a moment or two beforeshe rejoined Wilhelmine, who was removing her wrap in a leisurely waywhile the other ladies there eyed her rudely. It was very like the adventof a strange bird into a cage of canaries; the indigenous birds were allprepared to peck at the intruder. How willingly would they have torn outthe strange bird's feathers! Wilhelmine appeared unconscious of thisunfriendly scrutiny, though, in reality, she was disagreeably aware ofit. Madame de Stafforth had torn the hem of her skirt walking through thecrowded antehall, and she begged the attendant to sew it for her. Wilhelmine was obliged to wait, and nearly all the company had streamedinto the dancing-hall before the two ladies were ready. Fate playedWilhelmine a nasty trick in this--a throw-back in fact; for when theyreached the hall the effect of their entrance was hidden by the crowd, and his Highness Eberhard Ludwig had already left the daïs before whichthe courtiers passed and bowed. Only her Highness Johanna Elizabetharemained to receive the salutes of the late arrivals. Stafforth had hurried away; the Duchess was so unimportant, poor soul!and he could make his bow to her later in the evening. Besides, he hadhis duties to attend to: he must glance at the long supper-tables in theapartment adjoining the dancing-hall, he must see that all thearrangements were perfect. So Madame de Stafforth presented FräuleinWilhelmine von Grävenitz to her Highness Johanna Elizabetha, Duchess ofWirtemberg. The dull, amiable woman gave Wilhelmine her hand to kiss andturned away, indifferent, unconcerned. So little do we know when we firstapproach the enemies of our lives! With those we are to love it is oftenthe same. We touch the hand which is fated to give life's gift of joy tous, and we pass on unconscious that Destiny has spoken. Sometimes wewould barter a year of our life to recall that first touch. Wilhelmine stood at the foot of the daïs before the Duchess, who wasexchanging moth-dull confidences with Madame de Stafforth. The crowdmoved before the girl's eyes, and she felt bewildered, dizzy, in a dream, for she was unaccustomed to crowds. At length she saw Stafforth comingtowards her. He looked very fine in his court dress: the long, blue silkovercoat richly embroidered in gold, the embroidered waistcoat of whitesatin, white silk hose, and blue satin shoes with high red heels andenormous diamond buckles. He carried the Oberhofmarshall's staff ofoffice in his left hand, and on his breast shone the insignia of severalhigh orders. His curled wig was much powdered, and his healthy, coarseface seemed to gain in refinement thereby, softened in outline by thewhite hair. Very fine was the bow he made as he said: 'Mademoiselle, mayI entreat the honour of your hand for the pavane? Serenissimus dances inthe same set. You know the pavane?' he added anxiously. 'His Highness isquicker to detect a fault in dancing than to pardon it. ' Wilhelmine had danced the pavane with M. Gabriel in the schoolhouse atGüstrow, and he had told her that her dancing was perfect enough for thecourt of France itself; so she accepted Monsieur de Stafforth's handwithout hesitation. He led her to the middle of the dancing-hall, and stood beside her, waiting for the Duke to give the sign to the musicians to commence. Itwas scarcely correct for Wilhelmine to dance in the Duke's pavane beforeshe had been presented to his Highness, but Stafforth told her that theDuke desired all presentations to be made in the pause after the figuredance, which was to take place later in the evening. Wilhelmine reflectedthat she would be at liberty to observe Eberhard Ludwig at her leisureduring the dance. She looked round, but the Duke was not yet visible. Stafforth pointed to an alcove, telling her that his Highness was theretalking to Madame de Geyling. At length the curtains of the recess werepushed aside and a tall figure appeared. Eberhard Ludwig, Duke ofWirtemberg, leading his favourite, Madame de Geyling, by the hand. Aprincely figure indeed, thought Wilhelmine, as she bent low in theelaborate courtesy with which the dancers greeted their Duke. He was talland slight, dressed in ivory-coloured satin; his breast glittered withmagnificent orders, the broad orange ribbon of the newly institutedPrussian order of the Black Eagle being the only variation in the uniformwhiteness of his attire. He looked the very figure of a prince ofromance, and the gentlemen who bowed before him seemed to be popinjays intheir over-gorgeous clothes. He stood for a moment, his blue eyes flashing round the circle ofdancers, then he raised his hand in sign to the musicians to commence, and turning to Madame de Geyling bowed profoundly. The music rang out inthe stately measure of the pavane, and the dance began: the ladiesgliding, bowing, bending, their fans raised above their heads, thenpressed to their bosoms as they bowed again; the cavaliers no whit behindthem in elegance and grace. The court of Versailles itself had notdanced better, for to dance badly meant disgrace with the Duke ofWirtemberg. The pavane ended, and Monsieur de Stafforth led Wilhelmine to a seat nearthe daïs, where she found Madame de Ruth resplendent in a green courtdress. The two ladies settled down to await the beginning of the figuredance, in which the Duke himself was to take part. Madame de Ruth, voluble as usual, questioned Wilhelmine closely upon the events of theevening, and her face fell when she heard that the girl had not beenpresented to his Highness--nay, more, had danced near him without hisdeigning to notice her. 'Well, my dear, never mind, ' said Madame de Ruth, 'the most victorious armies may suffer defeat at first. ' As will be seenby this speech, the object of Wilhelmine's campaign was no longer amystery, and the intriguers now spoke openly before their intended tool. She knew that her goal was Eberhard Ludwig himself, and the future seemedgood to her since she had seen Eberhard Ludwig. Also it all spelt 'fineclothes, fine living, fine linen, gaiety, and perhaps power, ' and as shehad once said to her friend Anna Reinhard at Güstrow, without these shecould not imagine happiness. 'Mon enfant, it is serious though, ' Madamede Ruth was saying, 'the Duke never looked at you? you are sure? Ah! hewas staring at that odious Geyling, I dare swear! Lord God! how I hatethat woman! She once asked me if I had any children, and when I said"no, " she inquired if I had any grandchildren!' Wilhelmine laughed. 'She might have grandchildren herself, I think, ' shesaid. 'Yes, my child, if you scraped the paint you might find the grandmotherbeneath. Indeed, the Geyling is nearly as old as I am, ' laughed Madame deRuth, delighted at Wilhelmine's judgment of the woman whom she hated. 'But see, ' she continued, 'here comes the figure dance. ' As she spoke thedoors at the end of the dancing-hall opened, and the musicians in thegallery began to play a lilting strain. Quite slowly through the gildeddoors came a tiny figure dressed in wreaths of leaves and flowers, agolden bow in his hand, and at his side a miniature quiver filled withpaper arrows. 'The Geyling's nephew, ' said Madame de Ruth, 'and the onlygood thing about her! A charmingly naughty child, who they hope, however, will play his Cupid's rôle to-night, though he is as likely asnot to do exactly the reverse, for he is by nature a god of mischief!' The child walked solemnly to the centre of the hall, and there began todance a rapid skipping measure, waving his bow over his head the while. The onlookers burst into applause. Then the music softened to anaccompaniment, and boys' voices from the musicians' loft sang in parts. 'Bad verses, my dear, ' grunted Madame de Ruth, 'yet a pretty air. Theysay the Geyling wrote the rhymes--that explains it!' But her grumble waslost to Wilhelmine, who was observing the entry of four rather lightlyclad nymphs, who came forward in a graceful swaying line, encircling thechild, who stood stock-still in the midst wondering, poor mite, if thislong game would soon be ended. At length the four nymphs sank to theirknees before the boy, holding out their arms to him, while the voices inthe gallery warbled with ever-increasing rapture. The child ran from one kneeling figure to the other: first toMademoiselle de Gemmingen, then to Mademoiselle de Varnbüller, toMademoiselle de Reischach, and before his aunt, Madame de Geyling, thelittle fellow stopped and took his aim, with his bow and paper arrows. Everything was going admirably, never had this Cupid behaved so exactlyas arranged. Already the Geyling was feigning to fall backwards inaffected alarm, when Cupid whipped round saying, in a high childishtreble, 'Non, ma tante, je ne te choisis pas, tu es trop méchante!' An audible titter went round the audience, for the Geyling wasuniversally disliked. Cupid now thoroughly entering into the mischief ofthe game, ran round the group of nymphs calling out, 'Ni toi! Ni toi! Jecherche une vraie reine!' He paused irresolute for a moment, then, catching sight of Wilhelmine's smiling face, he made a dash for her, exclaiming loudly, 'Je te choisis, jolie dame!' and he shot his paperarrow straight at her breast. There was a pause of consternation amongthe dancers; this upset all the plans; and how could an untrainedstranger execute the elaborate step of the dance especially invented byhis Highness's own dancing-master for this occasion? There was commotion in the audience: men pressed forward to observe thescene, women fluttered their fans and whispered together, the threenymphs tittered weakly, while Madame de Geyling stood in the middle ofthe hall with heaving bosom and angry face. Madame de Ruth was laughing, and even the Duchess had risen from her chair and was leaning on Madamede Stafforth's shoulder, smiling and nodding. Wilhelmine had caught Cupidup in her arms, and he was laughing and shouting and sticking the littlepaper arrows in her hair. The musicians ceased playing, waiting for thechosen nymph to begin the 'Dance of Joy, ' which preceded the entrance ofthe Duke in the character of Prince Charming. Wilhelmine whispered to Madame de Ruth: 'What shall I do? I don't knowthe dance--the Duke would never forgive--advise me quickly!' 'Don't dance, but make the Duke notice you, ' whispered the old woman. The girl rose, Cupid still in her arms, and began to walk slowly acrossthe hall towards the door whence the Duke must appear. The musicians, mistaking her for some personage of the masque, struck up the 'Dance ofJoy. ' Now Wilhelmine possessed immense dramatic perceptions, also sheknew she could dance, so without hesitation she began to execute a longsliding measure in perfect harmony with the music, though it was, ofcourse, an impromptu of her own. She danced half-way round the hall, holding Cupid high in the air in her strong arms. Meanwhile the Duke, allunknowing, appeared in the doorway in his appointed place. Wilhelmineglided up to him, and sinking on one knee with Cupid held up to hisHighness, she said, 'Cupid has made a mistake, Monseigneur. He was alwaysa blind god. Pardon, Monseigneur, and permit Sa Majesté l'Amour to chooseagain!' With that she set the child down and ran through the door pastthe Duke, who, astounded, remained standing holding Cupid by the hand. Heheard the applause which had broken forth in the hall, and he saw theGeyling's furious face, and, realising that something unexpected hadoccurred, he came forward quickly. 'A mistake, Madame, ' he said shortly as he reached the Geyling. 'Let usendeavour to obliterate it by your grace!' And he commanded the musiciansto play the new dance, but he danced unevenly, constantly glancing in thedirection of the door where Wilhelmine had disappeared. Madame de Ruthwatched for a moment, and then, with a nod to Stafforth who stood besidethe daïs in evident perplexity, she turned and went to seek Wilhelmine. * * * * * The next day Stuttgart talked much of the handsome stranger whom Cupidhad chosen to dance with the Duke, and conjecture was rife as to who shecould be. Then it leaked out that she was to sing in the theatricals thatnight, and the curious, which means each person in or near a court, wereon tiptoe with expectation. Many looked for her at the stag-hunt in the Red Wood that day, and Madamede Ruth, who had the reputation of knowing everything, was fairlybesieged by questioners. She told them so little, though in so manywords, that they were all the more anxious to be informed further. Butwhat part was the unknown to take in the theatricals? they asked amongthemselves. She had not been seen at the rehearsals--strange--but Madamede Ruth assured them that the mysterious one was indeed to sing thatnight. The chosen piece was La Fontaine's _Coupe Enchantée_, a pretty thing, andeven decorous enough for the hearing of Johanna Elizabetha; new too inStuttgart, though Paris had already forgotten it. You may imagine that the invited guests were in their places at thetheatre in good time. Behind the scenes there was much bustle andconfusion. His Highness Eberhard Ludwig, to say the least of it, wasperturbed; he ran from dressing-room to dressing-room, knocking andinquiring if the players were there. When he came to the dressing-roomset apart for Madame de Geyling the door was opened suddenly, almostknocking his Highness on the nose, and an angry face appeared through thedoor's aperture. One side of this face was painted for the stage, whilethe other was only adorned with the pigments with which the Geyling wasaccustomed to hide her ageing features. The Duke smiled: I regret to sayhe actually laughed, and this laugh provoked a torrent of angry wordsfrom the lady. His Highness retired discomfited, and there were whispersbehind the scenes of how this must be one of the closing dramas of thislady's reign. The curtain parted and the comedy began. At first the audience paid butscant attention to the play, but soon a severe glance from the Duchesssilenced the whispering crowd. Madame de Ruth's laughter led the chorus of approval at each subtlespeech, and they said 'Ah oui! que c'est fin!' when she said it, for theydid not trust their own judgment. The Duke of Zollern leaned his chin onthe back of his hands, which he had crossed over the porcelain handle ofhis stick. He was not amused; he thought it dull, which it was. TheDuchess paid no attention to the play; she was watching, in her ponderousway, the marked respect and affection which Eberhard Ludwig succeeded inshowing Madame de Geyling even through his acting, and she suffered, thispoor, dull woman. Madame de Stafforth sat near her, saying nothing asusual. Friedrich Grävenitz stood leaning against the pillar by theentrance to the parterre, looking handsome and sombre. _La CoupeEnchantée_ went on its gay, subtle way, and was followed by anallegorical dance--a medley of gods and goddesses, of conventionalshepherds and shepherdesses; a graceful enough conceit withal, butinvolved and not very amusing. At the end there came the only scene whichappeared to interest her Highness Johanna Elizabetha: the littleErbprinz, her son, came on the stage dressed as Mars the God of War, andwas greeted with homage from the other gods. Poor Johanna Elizabethaapplauded and kissed her hands to him, while she recounted to Madame deStafforth a hundred details of the child's health. The curtain fell, and the audience prepared to depart. Disappointment wasrife, for the stranger had failed to appear, and it seemed that thecomedy was finished. The Duchess, who had been seated in the foremostrow of chairs, was already moving away followed by her suite, when themusicians recommenced to play, and it was whispered through theassemblage that the Envoi had yet to be performed. Very slowly thecurtain was drawn aside and a darkened stage disclosed. For a moment themusic ceased, then took up a haunting melody as a tall, white figureapproached down the almost unlit stage. It was a young woman in flowing, classic draperies--a goddess she looked; and after the mincingshepherdesses and their artificial, conventional mannerisms, this womancame as a breath from Nature's grandeur, young, forceful, untrammelled. She came right down to the half-lit footlights, and stood motionlessduring a bar or two of the music. And then she sang, and the audience, tittering curiously before, remained spellbound, awe-struck, as the firstnotes of that matchless voice smote upon their hearing. She sang of thesadness of the ending of comedies, of the regret which lingers in theremembrance of past laughter. In a couplet of passionate melancholy sheasked, where are the roses of yesterday? whither vanish the songs ofto-day? Changing verse and melody to a soft _récitatif_, she begged her hearersto give good favour to the evening's festivities. She reminded them thatthe merry company would soon disperse for many months; she wished thempeace and happiness, and she prayed that another spring would find thecompany reunited once again. 'Mars, God of War, hold thy hand; touch notthis fair country!' In her singing she had struck that note of regret which never leaves anaudience unmoved; she appealed to the sadness which lingers for ever inthe heart of man, and, after the vapid brilliancies of La Fontaine'scomedy, the strain had all the greater power to stir. Wilhelmine, anunseen spectator at many rehearsals of the theatricals, had calculatedthis to a nicety, with an artist's instinct for playing upon human natureand emotion. There were women among the audience who knew that ere the followingspring many of those they loved might be shot down by French bullets;there were men in the parterre who knew this, and a wave of emotionswept over the whole audience. To the singer herself all this hardlymattered; the human hearts were merely instruments upon which she playeda melody; yet her receptive, finely strung being thrilled in response tothe feeling she evoked; a half-sob rose in her throat and flooded herflexible voice with a passion of sadness. When the song ended, there camea moment's breathless silence, then the applause broke forth, andWilhelmine knew she had achieved a triumph. * * * * * In the banqueting-hall Duke Eberhard's guests were seated at amagnificent repast. Five hundred ladies and gentlemen at long tables on araised platform, while in the lower portion of the hall the burghers ofStuttgart were regaled with wine and cake. Her Highness JohannaElizabetha sat at one table with her retinue; Serenissimus at anotherwith his suite and closest friends, at his right hand was Madame deGeyling. Stafforth was seated at this table, Madame de Ruth was therealso, Monseigneur the Duke of Zollern, of course, and Prelate Osiander. The Geyling discussed the comedy. Lifting her glass she toasted EberhardLudwig: 'I drink to your Highness from la Coupe Enchantée, ' she murmured;but the Duke answered absently, and Madame de Ruth smiled when he askedStafforth, 'Where is the goddess of sound? Has she vanished with herdivine song?' He was told that the lady had retired to rerobe herself. 'Robe herself, you mean!' said the Geyling sharply, 'she had, in truth, little to remove!' She spoke quickly to the Duke in an undertone, but hisHighness turned away and commanded Stafforth to present the singerdirectly she appeared. The Geyling bit her underlip--there was a pause in the talk at the Duke'stable. At length a door near the platform opened, and Wilhelmine appeared. Noone noticed her at first, and she stood for a moment hesitating in thedoorway; then Madame de Ruth espied her, and, craving the Duke's pardon, she rose and went to Wilhelmine and, taking her by the hand, led hertowards the Duke. It was necessary to pass the Duchess's table;Wilhelmine immediately recognised her Highness, and as she passed sheswept Johanna Elizabetha a deep courtesy. It was gracefully done, and theneglected lady, unaccustomed to be treated with even ordinaryconsideration, responded by an amiable smile. As they approached theDuke, his Highness rose and came forward to meet them. He had seenWilhelmine's spontaneous good manners and was gratified thereby. Nothinggratifies a grand seigneur more than the grand manner, and in return toWilhelmine's inclination his Highness bowed as though to a queen. 'Mademoiselle, I am deeply in your debt, ' he said; 'it would be banal tothank you for your divine music, yet permit me to say that I wouldwillingly keep you for ever as my creditor, if you would but promise tomake my debt the greater by singing to me again--and soon. ' 'Monseigneur, you do me too much honour, ' she responded, sinking to theground in another courtesy. 'To a feast of the gods you would be welcome, Mademoiselle; but as we arenot in Olympus, let me, at least, lead the Goddess of Song to my poortable for refreshment. ' So saying, his Highness offered his hand and ledher to his table. He presented her to Madame de Geyling, who gave her abitter-sweet smile and paid her the compliment of turning her back uponher. The Duke plied his guest with food and wine, declaring that ambrosiaand nectar were better fitted for her; he toasted her; he praised her; heexhausted his knowledge of mythology in her honour, calling herMelpomene, the tragic Muse, for had she not made men weep with her songthat very night? Song, did he say? nay, hymn it was! She was Polyhymnia, singer of sublimity. He named her Philomèle, and desired the lute ofOrpheus that he might play an accompaniment to her wondrous singing. Heasked her in which enchanted ocean she had lived. 'Mademoiselle Sirène, lurer of men's souls, ' he called her. Wilhelmine spoke little in answer to all this, but she acted her partwell, smiling at him with glistening eyes. Indeed, she found nodifficulty herein, for her heart had played a cleverer trick than everher brain had devised--she was falling in love with Eberhard Ludwig ofWirtemberg. When supper was over the Duke rose, and, in defiance ofetiquette, desired Stafforth to accompany Madame de Geyling, while hehimself led Mademoiselle de Grävenitz from the banqueting-hall. Theypassed on to the terrace, above the outer colonnade of the Lusthaus, andstood together looking down on the garden, and the strains from theinstruments of the musicians hidden in the bowers floated up to them. 'I hardly dare propose it, Mademoiselle, ' said the Duke after somemoments' silence, 'but the garden is very fair to-night; would you honourme by accepting my arm and taking a short stroll towards the fountain?Only a few minutes, the night is so beautiful--come and look at the starswith me!' She hesitated; but the man's face was so noble, so open. Why not?'Monseigneur, I know not, ' she whispered. 'Mademoiselle, I entreat. If you knew how I hate these crowded rooms. Iam a soldier, and I love the memory of those nights encamped in the open, when I left my tent and wandered alone beneath the stars. Forstner--youknow Forstner? No? Well--a good friend, yet always at my elbow withrebukes and etiquette! Well--old Forstner used to chide me, saying it wasnot fitting for a reigning Duke to wander alone "like a ridiculouspoet-fellow philandering with the stars, " as he called it. Ah!Mademoiselle, will you leave the Duke here on the balcony, and come andlook at the stars with the ridiculous poet-fellow? will you?' Who could resist him, this man with the pleading eyes and deep, strongvoice? And Wilhelmine, coming from Mecklemburg to make a career, hadbegun it already, God knows! by falling in love with the Duke. They wentdown the steps leading to the garden, and in silence walked along thepath towards the fountain. The moon played white over the flowers, andthe sound of the violins, harps, and zithers faded away in the distance. They reached an old stone seat beneath a beech-tree and sat down. Beforethem the fountain rose, like some shimmering witch in the moonlight. 'Sing me a snatch of some song, Mademoiselle, ' said Eberhard Ludwig. 'There is no one near; sing to me once, to _me alone_--to the sillypoet-fellow!' 'Nay, Monseigneur, ' she answered tremulously, 'I cannot sing--my heart isbeating in my throat somehow. ' He looked at her in the moonlight. 'Mademoiselle de Grävenitz, ' he said, 'I have never been so happy, yet sounutterably sad, as at this moment. I--I--Mademoiselle----' and his voicebroke. He took her hand in his and, raising it to his lips, kissed itonce, twice, then in a husky voice he said, 'We must go back. ' He rosefrom the seat, offering her his arm. He led her up the dark garden-pathand into the glitter of lights in the ante-hall of the Lusthaus, whereMadame de Stafforth stood ready to depart, waiting for Wilhelmine. TheDuke sent Stafforth for Mademoiselle's cloak, and when he brought it, hisHighness himself wrapped it round her. As he did so, his handinvoluntarily touched the soft skin of her shoulder, and Eberhard Ludwigflushed to the edge of his white curled peruke as he murmured: 'Aurevoir, Philomèle!' and Wilhelmine daringly whispered back: 'Au revoir, gentil poète. ' CHAPTER VI LOVE'S SPRINGTIDE 'A queenly rose of sound, with tune for scent; A pause of shadow in a day of heat; A voice to make God weak as man, And at its pleadings take away the ban 'Neath which so long our spirits have been bent-- A voice to make death tender and life sweet!' PHILIP BOURKE MARSTON. THE Hofmarshall's house stood in the 'Graben, ' a broad road which ranproudly past the old town ending at the ducal gardens on the west, whileto the east began the fields and vineyards leading up to the royalhunting forest, the Rothwald. Stafforth's house was a fine stone buildingdecorated with rococo masks. To the back lay a beautiful garden laid outon a plan of M. Lenôtre's, from whose book of _Jardins Mignons_ Stafforthhad selected it. On the morning after the theatricals Wilhelmine wasseated on one of the garden benches, and though her eyes were fixed onthe pages of a French translation of Barclay's satirical novel _Argenis_, her thoughts were busy with the events of the previous evening. Herreverie was interrupted by Madame de Ruth who arrived, as usual, in acloud of her own words. She embraced Wilhelmine affectionately, exclaiming: 'Never was there so great a victory! One battle and thecountry is ours! The hero at your feet, my dear! Did I not say that youhad a great future before you? Ah! the Geyling! Ha! ha! ha! what a faceshe made when his Highness led you out on to the balcony, and I asked herif she thought it convenable for you! Ha! ha! ha! she looked sour indeed, and she screeched at me in her peahen voice: "Mademoiselle de Grävenitzseems to be a lady of experience; she can guard her own young virtue, Isuppose!" "'Tis not her virtue, Madame, " I said, with a surprised lookand the prim manner of a Pietist, "I know _that_ is safe with so devoteda husband as Serenissimus, but I fear for her reputation! Ah! Madame, theevil tongues of older women! and already no one here to-night can speakof ought save Mademoiselle. But I assure you the theatricals are not evenmentioned, Madame! They can remember nothing save the Envoi and itssinger. " O Wilhelmine! if you could have seen her face! I suffer, Iexpire with laughter, when I think of it. ' And Madame de Ruth laughedtill she really was almost suffocated, and was obliged to hold her handsover her heaving sides. Wilhelmine leaned her head on her hands. 'Poor Madame de Geyling!' shesaid in a musing tone. Madame de Ruth ceased laughing and looked at her piercingly. 'Poor Madamede Geyling?' she exclaimed. 'But, my child! Ah!' and she caughtWilhelmine by the wrist; 'you pity her? because she has lost the Duke'saffection? Why?' She paused a moment--reflected. 'Girl! you have fallenin love with Serenissimus, ' she whispered. Wilhelmine sprang up--her cheeks aflame. It was true, and she knew itherself then for the first time. She was angry, and yet there was animmense gladness in her heart. Her eyes were wet, and she felt the pulsesthrobbing in her temples. She was ashamed and yet gloriously proud. Madame de Ruth watched her; at first, with smiling curiosity, then theold woman's face softened, she took Wilhelmine's hand and said gently:'God give you joy, my child. There, there--I am a foolish old woman--youmake me weep. --Lord God! but hearts are the great intriguers, notbrains!' Wilhelmine turned to her and, bending, kissed the old courtesan on thebrow. 'Madame, ' she said, 'Madame, be my friend; I shall need one in the daysto come. ' Madame de Ruth drew the girl down beside her on the bench, her face hadgrown suddenly old and infinitely sad. 'Yes, ' she answered, 'I will beyour friend. Do you know that I had a little girl twenty years ago? Shewould have been just your age now, had she lived, and perhaps I shouldhave been a different woman. Well, well--no sentiment, my dear; it is sounsuitable, isn't it? but I will be your friend. ' She kissed the young woman, and, rising hastily, took her way towards thehouse. * * * * * The days dragged slowly on in Stuttgart for Wilhelmine, and there came nomessage from his Highness, who had gone to Urach, they told her, to hunt. Though the court remained nominally in Stuttgart while her HighnessJohanna Elizabetha resided at the castle, most of the courtiers hadretired to the country and Stuttgart was more than usually dull. Stafforth had accompanied the Duke to Urach, so Wilhelmine remained alonewith Madame de Stafforth. The heat was terrible in the town, which layencircled by the vine-clad hills, as in a great caldron. The Stuttgarterstold her that such heat was unusual at that time of year, but there waslittle consolation for her in that. To some natures dullness becomes an insupportable suffering. Loneliness, all you will, they can bear, for they draw occupation and joy from thedepth of their own souls; but that dreariness, which has been calleddullness, is an almost tangible presence at moments, and seems to blightthe beauty of all things. This Wilhelmine felt in those stifling days atStuttgart. Madame de Stafforth's moth-like personality wearied her. Madame de Ruth, who had returned to Rottenburg, wrote constantlyimploring her friend to visit her; yet something seemed to hold the girl, some mysterious sentiment, that if she left Stuttgart she would turn herback on her life. Once or twice Wilhelmine accompanied Madame de Stafforth to the castle. The Duchess received her with amiable indifference, and the young womanstood silently by while the two dull women discussed their habitualuninteresting topics. It was perfectly unreasonable, but she felt a hatred growing in her heartfor the wife of Eberhard Ludwig. One morning towards the end of June, Wilhelmine awoke to find the greydawn creeping in at her window; she rose and opened the casement andleaned out. Her room looked on the formal garden. There was a solemn hushin the air, and she realised that even the birds were asleep. Far in theeast, over the top of the one beech-tree which still stood in the gardenin spite of M. Lenôtre, the rising sun was tingeing the horizon with adelicate rosy glow. A bird stirred--twittered--finally a clear note ofwelcome to the day rang out, and the world was awake. The radiance in theeast grew brighter, long streaks of glorious colour invaded the soft greyof dawn. From the distant field roads came the rumble of a peasant'scart. Wilhelmine dressed herself hurriedly and tiptoed down the darkstair to the house door. The broad street, the Graben, was deserted andsilent, save for an occasional rattle in the direction of themarket-place, where the peasants were arriving from the country withtheir carts heaped up with fresh fruit and vegetables. She walked up thestreet, delighting in the coolness and the scent of the morning air afterthe long days of oppressive heat which she had endured. A fancy took herto wander in the Rothwald, and she walked briskly along, up the dustycountry path which led to the wood on the hill. The sun had risen, andeven at that early hour the heat was so great that once or twiceWilhelmine almost turned homewards; however, the thought of the coolshade of the beech-trees in the forest drew her, and she pressed onward. At length she reached the edge of the wood, and, turning, shecontemplated the steep hill which she had climbed from the town. Therough country road wound like some white riband through the greenvineyards which lay between Stuttgart and the Rothwald. A light breezesprang up and stirred the long, lush grass of the field which borderedthe shadow of the trees. There is no part of a forest more beautiful thanthe line where wood begins and meadow ends; it is as the lip of theforest breathing forth in a fragrant kiss of poesy some mystery of silentdells and fairy's haunts, which it hints of but does not quite betray. Wilhelmine mused on this; she was gifted with a delicate appreciation ofeach beauty-forming detail, and the accurate observation without whichthe enjoyment of beauty is a mere sensuous mood. She paused a while, drinking in the freshness and revelling in the solitude; then sheentered the wood and walked onward, her feet sinking deep into the richmoss. She inhaled the delicious smell of the beech-trees, that lightodour of the northern forest which is almost imperceptible, and yet sofresh, so pungent. It is made up of the smell of earth, of moss, of fern, of grass and leaves, and the resinous health of young pine. As Wilhelminewalked, she whispered a melody half in greeting to the trees, halfmechanically. She found a shallow bank, and, seating herself on theground, she supported her shoulders against the slope. She leaned herhead back and gazed up into Spring's wonderful tracery in the myriadbeech-leaves, and the cool green fell like balsam on her eyes. A breezestirred the tree-tops, and for a moment they swayed and leaned togetherwhisperingly, then, like little children playing at some gentle teasinggame, they drew back as the breeze passed. Wilhelmine's thoughts wandered to Eberhard Ludwig; of a truth they knewthe way, for how often had they sought his memory since that night in thecastle garden? She pondered how she had been told his Highness loved tosleep in the forest. 'Ridiculous poet-fellow' he had called himself. Shedrew a deep breath. 'Au revoir, Philomèle, ' he had said. Ah! but he hadforgotten her! Madame de Ruth had been mistaken! The campaign was notwon. Wilhelmine's cheeks glowed suddenly, she crushed a leaf of anoverhanging beech-branch; it was intolerable. All those people wouldridicule her! Leaning her head in her hand, she pressed her fingersagainst her eyes to shut out the sunlight, but it lingered in hereyeballs, and against the blackness she saw dancing rays of blindinglight. A feeling of delightful drowsiness was coming over her--a far-awayfeeling. Presently she raised her head from her hands, and once morecontemplated the peaceful wood. What did she care for those people whowould mock her? She would return their malevolent stares with her evillook, which she knew would be eminently disagreeable to them. Herthoughts turned back to Güstrow now--Güstrow and Monsieur Gabriel. Almostunconsciously, as she thought of her old friend, she found herselfhumming an air. At first she but whispered it under her breath, then shewas gradually carried away by the physical enjoyment of letting forth herpowerful voice, and she burst into full song: 'Bois épais redouble ton ombre, Tu ne saurais être assez sombre. Tu ne peux trop cacher Mon malheureux amour! Je sens un désespoir, Dont l'horreur est extrême. Je ne dois plus voir Ce que j'aime-- Je ne veux plus souffrir le jour!' She sang the old French melody out into the trees, and the great notesthrilled and echoed through the wood till it was as though they hadbecome an integrant part of the forest. Her voice was truly a woman'svoice in the ineffable tenderness and the grand passion of it, but therelay in its tones a depth of strong uncompromising nobility which lives inan organ's notes or in the rich low chords of a violoncello. Truly, asMonsieur Gabriel had said, her voice belonged by right to the shadowycathedrals, for each note seemed a sacred thing, a homage to God, anditself deserving to be worshipped in reverent devotion. During the songWilhelmine had not heard the sound of approaching footsteps, nor did sheobserve how a hand pushed aside some branches not far from where she sat, and a man's head and shoulders appeared. She leaned back on the moss fora moment's rest, and then springing up recommenced to sing. She stoodvery straight and tall, her hands locked together behind her, like aschoolgirl reciting a lesson; somehow this childlike attitude added byits simplicity to the woman's dignity. Her head was held a little back, chin tilted upwards, and the eyes looked far away as though they beheld awhole world of dreams and lovely melody beyond all save the singer's ken. As she sang the colour mounted slowly to her cheeks, flooding her facewith a divine flush; perhaps her very heart's blood rushed to adore thetones which fell from her lips. The man watching held his breath. Shefinished her song on a clear high note, and as she gave it forth, sheflung back her head in an impulsive gesture, glorying in an ecstasy ofsound, a magnificence of accomplishment. When the echo of the last ringing note faded, the man sprang forward, and, throwing himself impetuously on his knees before Wilhelmine, heraised the hem of her gown to his lips in a passionate gesture, thoughwith the adoring reverence that all poets give to great singers. 'Philomèle!' he murmured. 'Ah! Philomèle! Beloved!' She looked down at him. How strangely natural, necessary, unsurprising itseemed to her that he should be kneeling there, and yet she thoughtherself in some oft-remembered dream. 'Gentil poète, ' she whispered back, and her hand fell on his shoulder. His hand sought hers, he caught it and kissed it with a sort of piety. 'I love you. ' He spoke the words like a prayer. She drew away from him. 'Monseigneur, ' she said, 'I thought you had forgotten me!' He started ather gesture of repulsion and at the formal word. 'You are a woman no man can forget, ' he answered. Then he told her howthat evening in the castle garden he had known he loved her; how he haddreaded giving himself up to a passion which he divined would prove soabsorbing as to turn him from his cherished military ambition. He pouredout to her his life's history, all his dreams of brilliant feats of arms, the raising of his duchy to a kingdom; he told her of his bitterdisappointment when he found these ambitions were incomprehensible to theDuchess Johanna Elizabetha; of how, gradually, he had awakened to thefact that he was tied to a woman who utterly lacked in sympathy, and thuswearied him and drove him to seek consolation and amusement in the lightloves and fancies of court gallantry, and then how each lady's charms hadpalled inevitably. 'And now, ' he paused, 'now I feel that all my life began when first Iheard your voice! I have been fighting with my thoughts ever since. Beloved! I have nothing to offer you--you are too pure to take the onlyposition I could give you--and I love you too well to ask you. ' She looked at him, and a smile touched her lips and vanished almostbefore it was born. 'Mon poète, ' she whispered, and stretched out both hands to him; he tookthem in his, and drew her towards him. One thick curl of hair had fallenforward on her neck, he lifted it and buried his face in it, kissing itwildly, breathing in its fragrance. 'I love you, ' he said again, and drew her, unresisting, into his arms. 'Philomèle! Ah!' and his lips met hers. Overhead a bird burst forth into a rhapsody of song. CHAPTER VII THE FULFILMENT NOW began for Wilhelmine a time of strangely mixed and contendingemotions. She loved Eberhard Ludwig with all that fervour and lavishfreshness which we give to our first love; she longed to surrender to hispassion, yet she held back with a modesty of maidenly reserve which hermany jealous enemies ascribed to calculation, or else entirely denied, alleging that she was a mere adventuress plying her illicit tradeaccording to her habit. Of a truth, there may have been a shade ofstrategy in her virtuous hesitation, for Madame de Ruth, who had returnedto Stuttgart post-haste on hearing of his Highness's advent, constantlycounselled her to hold back. Wilhelmine herself realised that a battle'simportance is generally gauged by its difficulty, and the ultimatevictory more highly prized if hardly won. Sometimes she wondered why sheknew these things, and laughingly she told Madame de Ruth of this. 'Dear child, ' said the old woman with her thin, satirical smile, 'wewomen come into the world knowing such things; whereas men--poor, belovedfools!--need experience, philosophy, and the Lord knows what, to teachthem. Alas! by the time they have learned they no longer need theirknowledge, for by that time cruel old age has got them in its grey, dullclutches. ' Another factor in Wilhelmine's life at that time was the Duke's friendBaron Forstner, a man of excellent and sterling qualities, but one ofthose unfortunate mortals cursed with a lugubrious manner which makestheir goodness seem to be but one more irritating characteristic of atiresome personality. Forstner was genuinely devoted to the Duke; he hadbeen the companion of the Prince's childhood, had shared his studies, and had followed him on his travels to the various European courts and inthe campaigns where Eberhard Ludwig had so mightily distinguishedhimself. How cruel it is that devotion may be so entirely masked by somewearisome trait, as to turn the whole affection into a source ofirritation to its object! Forstner perpetually reminded his Highness ofhis duty. Now Eberhard Ludwig was possessed of a high regard for that stern code oflife which is called Duty; he had all a soldier's respect for rule, forobedience, all a gentleman's reverence for honour and truth; yet thesethings, as presented by Forstner, were to him odious, and his firstimpulse was to go counter to any advice proffered in the drab-colouredguise of Forstner's counsel, and by his deep, dreary voice. 'L'osseux, ' the Bony One, Madame de Ruth dubbed him; and truly thesobriquet was justified, for the man was so long and thin as to give theimpression of bones strung on strings. He walked in jerks: his flat, narrow feet posed precisely, the head held forward, like some gaunt birdseeking with its lengthy beak for any meagre grain which might chance inits way. Somehow one felt the grain he sought must be meagre. 'The goodGod wills that Forstner lives, ' said Madame de Ruth, 'and God knows helives according to God's rules; but oh! how more than usually tiresome hemakes those rules, poor Bony One!' Forstner naturally disapproved of Wilhelmine, and the two were for evercontradicting each other; but she often endeavoured to propitiate him, for she loathed disapproval, and preferred the open hostility of a realenemy to the presence of any merely disapproving person. Eberhard Ludwigsuffered intensely in those weeks at Stuttgart; he was fiercely irritableto Forstner, resenting his comments on Wilhelmine, though he longedchildishly for some appreciation of a new and much-prized toy. Stafforth, who had returned with the Duke, assisted the intrigue to thebest of his ability by constantly arranging meetings, feasts, picnics inthe forest, music in the evenings, followed by gay suppers. But heoffended Wilhelmine deeply, though she gave no sign thereof, for hetreated the whole situation as an ordinary court intrigue, which indeedit was, though both people concerned were earnestly and deeply engaged inthe one great love of their lives. Forstner sat like a grim, politeskeleton at these feasts, and Wilhelmine grew to hate him in those summerdays. Her hatred was destined to wreak a terrible vengeance against him. Friedrich Grävenitz had also returned to Stuttgart, leaving his wife inRottenburg awaiting the birth of their first child. Duchess Johanna Elizabetha continued to reside at the castle, torturingherself with jealous fears. She appeared before the Duke with eyesreddened by sleepless nights and bitter tears, and her habitualdreariness of being was doubled. Eberhard Ludwig himself, intent upon his love, gave the poor woman scarcea thought, though when he saw her he noted her tear-stained eyelids andher woebegone, reproachful ways with an irritation which, though it couldnot pierce the studied courtesy of his manner, made itself felt, andfurther wounded the unhappy woman. Madame de Stafforth was constantlywith the Duchess, and thus her Highness was perfectly informed of theDuke's daily visits at the Stafforth house. The days dragged on, and the heat grew to be almost unbearable. Each daythe sun shone more gloriously, and the Duchess longed for one grey, overcast day. To her the sun seemed pitiless and cruel, the summer'samplitude seemed to mock her in her misery. Each evening, at set of sun, she heard the rattle and rumble of EberhardLudwig's coach, which he drove himself with eight magnificent spiritedhorses. True, his Highness never failed to send his consort a courteousinvitation to join the feast at some Jagd Schloss in the forest; but sheinvariably refused, alleging that she was weary, that her head ached, orthat she would fain rest, for she guessed that Wilhelmine would be there. Unrest was in Wilhelmine's heart also. She still held back from givingherself to Eberhard Ludwig, and the future seemed to her dark anddifficult. She knew she loved his Highness, but both her sincere love andher indomitable pride revolted at the thought of becoming a mere toy, amistress to be thrown aside whenever the Duke's whim dictated. Athousand times she told herself that this would never happen, thatEberhard Ludwig loved her with a true and lasting passion, yet a wave ofhaughty doubt swept over her and kept her back. One day it was announcedfrom the castle that her Highness had commanded a famous troupe ofItalian musicians to perform a series of madrigals before the court. TheDuchess caused a summons to be issued to members of the court atStuttgart, adding, however, that no foreign visitors could be invited, the concert being strictly private. This was a direct insult toWilhelmine, for she was the only foreign visitor in Stuttgart. Stafforthannounced this news to his Highness, Madame de Ruth, and Wilhelmine asthey sat at supper beneath the beech-tree in the Stafforth garden. Asilence fell upon the party. Madame de Ruth leaned back in her chair, fanning herself gently; Eberhard Ludwig turned to Wilhelmine, his facehad flushed deeply, and it was with an unsteady voice that he said: 'Mademoiselle, I formally invite you to hear the music to-morrow eveningat my castle of Stuttgart. Her Highness, my honoured wife, will gladlymake an exception in her arrangements for so famous a musician asyourself. ' 'Monseigneur, ' broke in Stafforth hurriedly, 'I fear your Highnesscannot----' Eberhard Ludwig silenced him with a look, and turning to Wilhelmine hesaid, almost sternly: 'I await the honour, Mademoiselle, of your answer, which I shall carry myself to her Highness. ' Wilhelmine rose. 'Monseigneur, ' she said, and her voice had a ring which caused Madame deRuth to start, --'Monseigneur, I can refuse you nothing. To-morrow I willdo as you desire. ' The rich blood mantled to her cheeks. Eberhard Ludwigcaught her hand; raising it to his lips he murmured 'To-morrow!' andturning quickly left the garden with hasty strides. Wilhelmine walkedaway down the garden-path, desiring apparently to commune with herself. Stafforth remained standing. Observing Madame de Ruth, who was laughingquietly to herself-- 'Madame, ' he said angrily, 'I see nothing to laugh at! This will be goingtoo far. It is an insult to her Highness, and we shall have the wholecourt against us! She must _not_ go to this madrigal singing, I tellyou!' 'Dear friend, ' Madame answered, 'I am not laughing at that. I laughbecause I see once more that a man may plead till his heart breaks, it iswhen a woman sees another woman absolutely denied for her sake, that sheknows she is loved as she approves; _then_ she capitulates andwhispers--to-morrow!' The old woman laughed again. 'Well, Madame!' replied Stafforth, 'you will see what this "to-morrow"means!' * * * * * The Italian musicians were grouped together at one end of her Highness'sown reception-room in the castle of Stuttgart. The invited audience wassmall, for only such ladies and gentlemen as were actually obliged, bythe holding of important court charges, remained in the town during thehot summer months; thus it had been deemed more fitting for the madrigalsto be performed in the castle itself instead of in the fine hall of theLusthaus where the court festivities usually took place. Her Highness'sreception-room gave out on to the Renaissance gallery of the innercourtyard. The room was hung with sombre tapestries heavy with the dustof centuries; a number of waxen tapers flamed in silver candlesticks;rows of seats were arranged in a half-circle behind the high gilt chairsplaced for his Highness Eberhard Ludwig and his consort her HighnessJohanna Elizabetha. The musicians turned over the leaves of the manuscript music on the desksbefore them; sometimes the sound of a violin chord, struck to prove itscorrectness, broke on the air. The swish of silken skirts on the woodenfloor of the gallery without announced the advent of the first guests, and gradually the room was filled by richly clad ladies and finelyattired gentlemen. The appointed hour was long passed for the music's commencement, butneither the Duke nor the Duchess had left their apartments, and thecourtiers whispered that their Highnesses were closeted together, andthat angry voices had been heard by one of the pages attendant in theantehall. The clock of the Stiftskirche tolled out nine strokes, and thecourtiers murmured angrily that they had been waiting an entire hour. At length the door leading to her Highness's apartment was flung open, and Monsieur de Gemmingen, Controller of the Duchess's household, appeared, bowing deeply as Johanna Elizabetha entered, followed by Madamede Stafforth, who was in attendance on her Highness in the absence ofMademoiselle de Münsingen, the lady-in-waiting. The audience rose togreet the Duchess, and at that moment his Highness Eberhard Ludwigappeared from another door followed by Oberhofmarshall Stafforth, Reischach, and other gentlemen of the suite. Her Highness bowed to right and left. Her face was deadly white and hereyes swollen with weeping; even her usual colourless amiability seemed tohave deserted her, for, after the generally inclusive salute to theentire company, she swept towards her gilded chair without a word ofdirect greeting to any individual. Eberhard Ludwig, on the contrary, assumed an air of gaiety, as with his habitual grace of manner he passeddown the lines of guests, finding a courteous word for each and all. Yetthe courtiers remarked that his Highness's face was flushed, and that hiseyes held a glitter of angry defiance; but he gave no other sign ofdisturbance, and did not respond to Stafforth's whispered inquiry if hisHighness had heard news of serious import. Johanna Elizabetha summoned the Oberhofmarshall and desired him tocommand the musicians to commence, and the courtiers watched how EberhardLudwig, seating himself beside her Highness, seemed to fix his mind uponthe music. It was a matter of comment that Monsieur and Madame deStafforth were present at the concert without their guest Mademoiselle deGrävenitz; and the well informed, delighted with their superiorknowledge, whispered that the decree 'No Foreigners' was levelled at thislady alone. Under cover of the music the audience gossiped in whispers, while they noted the Duchess Johanna Elizabetha's demeanour withinterest. Her Highness sat beside the Duke in that attitude which, translated fromcourt to market-place parlance, would have been 'turning her back uponhim'; in more polite circles this attitude becomes a mere inclination ofthe shoulder. It is less satisfactory to the offended, though certainlynot less abashing to the offender, than the ruder, more frankly humanmarket-place manner. And it seemed as though his Highness felt it to beso, for he repeatedly endeavoured to address his spouse over thisbattlemented shoulder; but her Highness answered shortly, if at all, andthe shoulder became each time more aggressively pointed. The musicians meanwhile performed a series of madrigals accompanied byviole d'amore, violins, and viole da gamba. The candles flickered in thedraught from the open windows. Madame de Ruth sat resignedly besideMonseigneur de Zollern, whose fine head had dropped forward on hisbreast. He was asleep; and Madame de Ruth realised, with a sigh, that herbeloved had grown old; that her youth had vanished too, and even the joyof observing the tragi-comedy of human nature palled for her at thatmoment, and she felt herself to be old and lonely. At length the musicceased, and was followed by that insolent, half-hearted applause which itis the privilege of the truly cultured audience to offer to musicians oractors. Her Highness intimated her approval, and desired the performers to rest alittle after their exertions. At this moment a door, directly to the leftof her Highness's seat, was flung open, and a bewildering vision ofbeauty stood framed in the doorway. It was Wilhelmine von Grävenitz, theexpressly excluded foreign visitor. Johanna Elizabetha threw a glancetowards this apparition and hastily averted her eyes, her face flamingfrom throat to brow. His Highness half rose from his seat, but sinking back he endeavoured toattract the Duchess's attention to the late arrival, who stood on thethreshold awaiting her Highness's greeting, without which it wasimpossible for her to join the court circle, as having entered by thewrong door, she must of necessity pass the Duchess in order to gain theranks of the audience. There was a moment of intense embarrassment;Wilhelmine was as firmly fixed to her place in the doorway as thoughnails had been fastened through her satin-slippered feet to the boardsbeneath; for etiquette forbade her to advance without her Highness'sgreeting, and fear of ridicule barred her way back through the door. TheDuchess remained immovable, her eyes upon the group of musicians; theDuke endeavoured nervously to draw her Highness's attention toWilhelmine; the audience had fallen into one of those painful silences, with which an assembly invariably adds to the awkward moments of sociallife. Partly it is that curiosity rules all men and most women; partlythat, however cultured and refined the individuals may be, a _mass_ ofhuman beings is like some wild animal--awkward, ungainly, horribly cruel, ready to gloat over the discomfiture of friend or foe. The flickering of the candles in the silver candlesticks seemed to becomea noisy flaring, and through the large room the falling of a waxen flakeon the polished table rang out distinctly; the string of a violin broke, and it sounded like a pistol-shot in the stillness. Her Highness remainedunmoved, with eyes fixed upon the musicians. The tension was almostintolerable. The victory seemed to belong to the stern hostess, and yetit was upon Wilhelmine standing in the doorway that every eye was fixed. She stood perfectly motionless, one hand upon the lintel of the door, theother holding her fan; her head was poised imperiously, chin tilted aswhen she sang; her lips were parted in a half-smile, and her eyes werefixed upon her Highness with her strange compelling look. Was the Duchessvictorious? surely not--the homage of the whole company was to the beautyof the woman on the threshold. At length the Duke, in desperation, boldly touched her Highness'sshoulder. 'Your Highness has not observed your Highness's newly appointedlady-in-waiting!' He spoke so clearly that the audience heard each carefully pronouncedsyllable. 'Your Highness will remember summoning Mademoiselle de Grävenitz toattend upon your Highness this evening for the first time in her newcapacity?' Johanna Elizabetha turned. For a tick of the clock she deliberatelymeasured her adversary with her protuberant eyes, then slowly she benther head in formal greeting. Wilhelmine stepped forward, then sank to theground in the elaborate court courtesy; rising, she walked a few steps, and again swept her Highness the usual obeisance, and calmly assumed herappointed place as lady-in-waiting behind the Duchess's chair. The musicians recommenced to play; her Highness stared stonily beforeher; the Duke leaned back drumming with nervous fingers on the gilt armof his chair; the audience murmured together conjectures and remarks. Wilhelmine was almost as motionless as her Highness; her eyes were fixedupon the musicians, and her face was inscrutable. The concert came to anend, and the Duchess rose; she turned towards Madame de Stafforth, summoning her as lady-in-waiting-extraordinary to accompany her, therebyentirely ignoring Wilhelmine, the newly appointed lady-in-waiting, whoseoffice it should have been to attend her Highness. After saluting herguests collectively by one sweeping courtesy, Johanna Elizabetha walkedtowards her apartments. Eberhard Ludwig made a movement forward as thoughto stay the Duchess; but he stopped short, and turned to Wilhelmine, whowas standing behind the Duchess's empty chair, uncertain whether tofollow her Highness or no. 'Mademoiselle de Grävenitz, ' he said, 'the Duchess is evidentlyindisposed, and thus will not be present at the supper this evening, therefore I take it your services as lady-in-waiting will be dispensedwith. May I have the honour of leading you to supper?' and he offeredWilhelmine his hand in the graceful fashion of those days. The last thingher Highness Johanna Elizabetha saw, as once more she paused to bow fromthe doorway to her guests, was the Duke leading her new lady-in-waitingtowards the supper-room. * * * * * The Duchess Johanna Elizabetha's guests were leaving the castle: aconstant stream of coaches drew up, one by one, in the courtyard, andhaving taken up their owners rumbled away through the heavy archway andacross the moat towards the town. Only Oberhofmarshall Stafforth, Madamede Ruth, his Grace of Zollern, and Friedrich Grävenitz lingered in thesupper-room by his Highness's command. Stafforth was anxious and silent;Zollern sleepy; the voluble Madame de Ruth was talking rapidly, with theevident intention of making the scene appear unimportant to the flunkeysin attendance. Friedrich Grävenitz said nothing, but looked pompous, anddrank ostentatiously with rounded forearm, showing off his fine muscles, in spite of the fact that no one paid any heed to him. He had beeninvaluable during supper itself, for he had roared out stories, undercover of whose noise those who had real things to discuss had beenenabled to talk, while the outsiders imagined that his Highness's circlelistened to the Kammerjunker. But now he had been silenced by aperemptory word from the Duke, and he was thus relegated to the positionof onlooker, though, in truth, he evidently believed all eyes to be uponhim, for he looked sulkily self-conscious and perfectly foolish. At one of the windows stood Eberhard Ludwig, beside him Wilhelmine. Theywere speaking together in an undertone. Madame de Ruth sometimes cast ananxious glance towards them. She wished the conversation would end;already the servants must have made comment upon so long an interview, and though the opinion of menials was a matter of little importance, thewily dame did not desire Wilhelmine's business to become the talk of thetown until the intrigue was fully developed. 'Monseigneur, ' she whispered to Monsieur de Zollern, 'this must end. Believe me, her Highness has many virtue-loving spies who will report toher with the exaggeration of the respectable foul-minded, and we shall beaccused of having had a nocturnal carousal. ' Monsieur de Zollern rose and hobbled across to the pair at the window. Hehad just reached them when the door opened, and Baron Forstner appearedon the threshold. 'Ah! Serenissimus!' exclaimed Zollern, 'that is indeed an excellentstory! Your Highness must pardon an old invalid if he retires with thememory of that witty tale in his mind as a bonne bouche. ' He bowed andtook his leave, while Forstner, who had arrived on the scene hoping tofind the lovers alone together, was entirely put off the scent;Zollern's quick ruse having made it appear as though the conversation hadbeen general. The company now took leave, Zollern offering Forstner a seat in hiscoach, which was accepted; thus the 'Representative of all the virtues'(another of Madame de Ruth's names for 'L'osseux') was safely removedfrom the scene, leaving Kammerjunker Grävenitz to attend his Highness. Madame de Ruth retired to her rooms in the castle. Stafforth escortedWilhelmine to his coach, which waited to convey her to the house in theGraben. As he bowed gallantly over her hand he felt her fingers press apaper into his palm. She must have penned it ere she came to the concert, he reflected, for she could have found no opportunity for writing since. When he reached the deserted corridor outside the antehall, where twotall gentlemen-at-arms guarded the door of his Highness's sleepingapartment, he held the missive up to the light of one of the flickeringwall-lamps: 'For his Highness's own hand alone, ' he read. 'Ah----!' he murmured. Passing through the antehall, he gained admissionto Eberhard Ludwig's apartment. 'Stafforth, my friend!' cried the Duke, when the Oberhofmarshallappeared, 'this is much courtesy, --you attend me with zeal!' and helaughed gaily. Stafforth looked fixedly at him; he wished to convey to his Highness hisdesire to speak with him alone; but Friedrich Grävenitz also, unfortunately, had this impression, and being at once the most suspiciousand the most tactless of mortals, he had evidently made up his mind toremain in attendance, as was indeed officially correct, though it wasusual for the subordinate official to retire courteously when a personholding a superior court charge was present at the Duke's disrobing. Itwas impossible for Stafforth to give his Highness Wilhelmine's missive inher brother's presence, for the conspirators had long discovered thatFriedrich Grävenitz either lost his temper and blustered, if he felthimself excluded from full knowledge of anything concerning his sister'saffairs; or else, were he taken into their confidence, he compromised thesituation by some gross tactlessness the which he himself considered, andrepresented, to be a master-stroke of diplomacy. After some moments' conversation, Stafforth hit on a plan. He walkedacross the room and leaned out of the open window. 'What a gloriousnight!' he exclaimed. 'Ah, Monseigneur! I understand your Highness's lovefor the silent woods at night; even here, in the town, the summer nightis full of mysterious poetry! Grävenitz, if his Highness permit you, comeand look at the beauty of the far-off stars. You also have a vein ofpoetry in your soldier-nature. ' This being exactly what FriedrichGrävenitz entirely lacked, it flattered him extremely to be credited withthe quality. He craved his Highness's permission to look at the gloriousnight scenery, and repairing to the window leaned out beside Stafforth. The Oberhofmarshall immediately pressed close against him and encircledhis shoulders with one arm, holding the dupe firmly away from theinterior of the room; meanwhile Stafforth's other arm was round his ownback, with Wilhelmine's letter held out in that hand towards the Duke. Heremained thus expatiating on the beauty of the night, till he felt theDuke withdraw the missive from him. Having assured himself by hearing afaint rustle of paper that Eberhard Ludwig had read the missive, hefinished his oration, and removed his strong arm from Grävenitz'sshoulder. Now it was the Duke who leaned out of the window. 'O Stafforth!' hecried, 'the night is too beautiful to sleep through! Gentlemen, I inviteyou to hunt with me to-morrow at break of day! We will meet at the edgeof the Rothwald and follow the stag. Till dawn, then, farewell! I shallwander in the wood till then. ' His Highness dismissed Stafforth and Grävenitz. As the door closed uponthe two courtiers, Eberhard Ludwig snatched a crumpled paper from hisbreast. It was the Duchess Johanna Elizabetha's formal command to herguests to appear at her private concert of madrigals:-- 'Le Chambellan de Son Altesse MADAME LA DUCHESSE DE WIRTEMBERG a l'honneur d'inviter Madame de Stafforth ce Lundi 25 Juin à 8 heures du soir. Je regrette de ne pas pouvoir inviter des voyageurs étrangers. --J. E. ' Signed and annotated, you will see, by her Highness's own hand. Beneathwhich, in strong, manlike characters, was written-- 'Ce soir à onzes heures. --PHILOMÈLE. ' And it is a matter of history that his Highness Eberhard Ludwig ofWirtemberg did _not_ keep his tryst at dawn with OberhofmarshallStafforth and Friedrich Grävenitz in the Rothwald. CHAPTER VIII THE GHETTO THE new lady-in-waiting was installed in two rooms in the castle, verynear the roof and hard by Madame de Ruth's apartment. Wilhelmine receiveda small income, also her food and the services of a waiting-woman of theducal household. This person was a large, fair-skinned Swabian--apeasant, simple yet suspicious, loud-voiced, rough in manner, very tenderof heart. During the first days of her service she feared and dislikedher 'foreign' mistress, but, like every one whom Wilhelmine chose tocharm, Maria adored her before the week was out with that whole-hearteddevotion which servants sometimes give their employers, and which isoften so unequal a bargain. But it was not to prove so in this case, forWilhelmine responded readily to any genuine affection, and, proud as shewas, she was too proud to imagine that her freedom of speech and her easylaughter could be met with undue familiarity, which indeed, as is usualwith the woman of true breeding, it never was. Maria remained devoted andfree spoken, though absolutely respectful. To her the 'Grävenitzin, ' aspeople began to call Wilhelmine, poured out the story of the numerouspetty annoyances which disturbed her, and the peasant girl learned toregard her as a persecuted angel. Though her mistress's violent temperflamed forth if the smallest detail of the toilet went amiss, and often, indeed, for no apparent cause, the next moment the impression was erasedand the waiting-maid's heart soothed by some affectionate word or hasty, almost childlike, apology. Few know the extraordinary loyalty, thesilence and forbearing, which many servants exercise; but those who do, and can prize it truly, have an added power in their hands and an immenseaid to their ambition. Maria, while absolutely silent regarding hermistress's affairs, was fully informed concerning the rest of theinhabitants of the Stuttgart castle and of their various opinions ofWilhelmine, and all this she communicated while the latter lay abeddrinking her chocolate of a morning. In this manner Wilhelmine learnedmany things of which she would otherwise have been ignorant. One morning, about a month after the commencement of Wilhelmine's sojournat the castle, she was dressing at her leisure, her Highness havingcommanded her presence at a later hour than usual. The window stood open, and she could hear the whirl of wings as the doves flew about from theroof of the inner courtyard or alighted on the stone balustrade below herwindow. The heat had abated, and a faint sighing breeze was waftedthrough the window. Maria had gone to the town to purchase a ribbon forMadame de Ruth's spaniel, and the Grävenitzin remained alone. She leanedback in a tall, carved chair, listening to the million sounds of silence. Ah! Silence!--quiet! how she loved it! With yearning she realised how shelonged for the stillness of some deep wood or of some fragrant garden, with Eberhard Ludwig at her side. True, she saw him daily at court; drovewith him on his fine coach drawn by eight horses; supped with him, sangto him, knew herself to be his acknowledged mistress. There were stoleninterviews in her little room, moments of wondrous rapture and thrilling, passionate surrender. Yet, somehow, she never had the sensation of beingentirely undisturbed, of enjoying the delight of solitude with him, safefrom possible interruption. She knew that her genuine passion for theDuke was regarded by the court as an ordinary gallant adventure; herrelation with him classed among the unlovely liaisons of princes; and, like each woman who considers her personal conduct, she imagined her ownlove to be a thing utterly different to the passions of otherwomen--infinitely purer, absolutely apart. Also, she hated disapproval;it had the power to vilify her, drawing out the worst in her nature. Thenthe Duchess, who was possessed of all the harsh cruelty of the untemptedvirtuous woman, constantly slighted the lady-in-waiting, whose presenceshe, perforce, endured, while it afforded her a decided relief to venther jealous, agonised spleen in the privacy of her apartment upon hervictorious rival of public society. She little knew, poor soul, what asinister list of 'affronts to be avenged' was being written inWilhelmine's mind, nor could she gauge, she of the moth-coloured spite, the evil, relentless hatred which she was daily fostering in a heartstrong to love and strong to hate. Even Madame de Ruth was appalled at the dimensions of the affair whichshe herself had aided in creating. Wilhelmine fascinated her still, butshe began to fear her, and though she laughed at those who murmured that'the Grävenitzin had the evil eye, ' a certain disquiet peeped into hermind at times. Wilhelmine had heard, through the maid Maria, that therewere whispers of her being possessed of the evil eye; and it amused herto confront those who offended or irritated her with that strange lookwhich she could command at will. Certainly she had a vast will-power, andthe Duke was subjugated, not alone by love but by that marvellousdominion of mind which is exercised by certain beings over others. Hetold her often that she was a witch; being doubly a poet since he loved, he raved of the witchery of his mistress; yet had he dreamed for onemoment that there could be anything mysterious in her fascination hewould have been appalled. He was of his day, and could not explain gliblythe mysteries and marvels of personal attraction and repulsion, ofwill-power and dominion, by the easy word magnetism. He would have calledit 'witchcraft, magic, devilry, ' and he did later on, and trembled. Butall this was only beginning when Wilhelmine sat listening to the silencethat summer morning. A heavy footfall on the balcony without aroused herfrom her reverie, and her window was darkened for a flash by a passingform. A rough knock came on her door, and she heard a voice informing herthe Altesse Sérénissime the Duchess desired her presence immediately. She sprang up. 'Tell her Highness I will come immediately; but that, as Iwas not commanded for so early an hour, I am unfortunately not quiteready, ' she called after the lackey's retreating form. She flung off hermorning gown and began hastily to don a silken bodice, but it took herlonger to dress without Maria's help, and it was some time before shestood at the door of her Highness's anteroom. She was met by one of thetiring-women whom she particularly disliked, and whose mulish face andimpertinent manners had often irritated her. 'Her Highness is waiting, Fräuleinle von Grävenitz, ' said this person, while she treated Wilhelmine to an insolent stare. 'That has nothing to do with you, ' answered Wilhelmine haughtily, herready anger flaring at the covert insolence of the woman's manner and thefamiliar use of the word 'Fräuleinle. ' As she passed she caught a grin ofamusement on the woman's face. Ridicule from any one, but especially fromthe 'canaille, ' as she termed most of the inmates of this world, was athing which always raised the slumbering devil in Wilhelmine. She turnedabruptly, confronting the tiring-woman with that fixed evil glance ofhers. The smile died on the woman's lips, and she shrank back muttering. 'You will regret your insolence, ' said Wilhelmine, thereby forginganother link in that chain of the witchcraft theory which was destined tohave such strange developments in her life and fate. 'I am accustomed to being attended immediately, Mademoiselle, when I sendfor my ladies, ' said the Duchess icily as Wilhelmine entered. 'Your Highness will pardon me; it was an unexpected summons, and I wasnot dressed. ' 'Ah! I suppose the so evidently recent attack of smallpox makesMademoiselle a little delicate still?' replied Johanna Elizabetha, with aspiteful smile, and looking pointedly at her lady-in-waiting's face. At this taunt, once more, though this time involuntarily, the snake lookcame into Wilhelmine's eyes. Her Highness did not shrink, but returnedthe gaze fully with a glance of quiet animosity. Johanna Elizabetha was abrave woman, of good blood, and it is remarkable that, through all herdealings with the Grävenitz, she never showed any of that fear, which toarouse was one of this mysterious woman's most potent weapons. 'Would itplease you were I to give you permission to retire from court for a fewmonths, Mademoiselle, in order to recoup your damaged--er--health?' Shepaused before the last word, and her adversary knew what she would havesaid. The lady-in-waiting still had the strength to command the wave ofbitter anger which was surging within her, and she answered calmly: 'I thank your Highness for the offer; but, ' here a note of insolenttriumph pierced through the studied courtesy of her manner, 'but I findthe climate of Stuttgart agrees vastly well with me, and I need nochange. Your Highness must remember how much I am in the open air. ' This allusion to the constant drives with Eberhard Ludwig goaded JohannaElizabetha past endurance. 'You will not be able to be abroad so much in future, Mademoiselle deGrävenitz, ' she answered grimly; 'I intend to commence a large piece ofembroidery, and the work will keep me more in the house. I shall requireyour services to read to me while I am working. ' Wilhelmine bowed. 'Fetch me that embroidery frame and the silks, Mademoiselle, ' the Duchesssaid, in a tone of such imperious command that the other felt an angryblush flame in her cheeks; but she walked quietly across the room andbrought the frame to her Highness, who at once busied herself in matchingthe coloured silks on the design. Seating herself near the window, andsettling the frame on a small table before her, she worked steadily forsome time in silence, Wilhelmine standing near, not having been grantedpermission to be seated. The silence became horrible, tense, gloomy; theair seemed quivering with the hatred which both women felt. At length theDuchess laid aside her work and, turning, faced her lady-in-waitingdirectly. 'Mademoiselle Wilhelmine von Grävenitz, ' she said slowly, 'I will giveyou one chance of becoming an honest woman. You are unnecessary to me inyour present capacity, and I have decided to remove you from my service. 'She rose with the dignity she could assume at times. 'The reasons for mydecision you know well enough, and, indeed, it were not fitting for me todiscuss them with you. If you will resign your charge, and leave thecountry to-day, promising never to return, I will announce that, to myregret, you have been called back to your home. As I know you came herepenniless, I offer you a free present of ten thousand gulden, under theconditions I have named. If you will not accept this I shall have youdriven from my house, and I shall command that no one in Wirtemberg shallshelter you under pain of loss of entry at court. ' Johanna Elizabetha was really impressive and dignified, infinitelypathetic too; for it was a futile assumption of an authority hers byright, and, in fact, absolutely non-existent. 'I await your answer, ' sheadded, a little tremulously. 'And I give you my answer, here and now, for to-day and for as long as Ichoose. And my answer is--No!' She said it boldly, but her heart wasbeating violently; after all, she too was fighting for her life, for allshe had found beautiful, for the man she loved, and for the ease andcharm of existence, the 'fine linen and fair raiment, honour and power, 'without which she could and would not live. The Duchess looked at her curiously. Certainly she was very beautiful, standing straight, tall, and strong; radiant with health, magnificent inher proud decision of being; with head thrown back, hands clasped behindher like a child saying a lesson--the singing attitude, which the Duchesshad often seen before with angry, grudging admiration. 'Is this your decision?' Johanna Elizabetha asked once more. 'God inHeaven! why did you come here? I offer you wealth and peace; cannot yougo and leave me what is mine?' 'Yours?' broke out Wilhelmine impetuously. 'Yours? You know what you sayis untrue! Yours!' Such an accent of scorn, such an intolerable ridicule of the unbeautifulwoman lay in Wilhelmine's voice, that the Duchess drew back as from ablow; she shrank, feeling herself thrust into the chill dreariness of theworld of unloved, unlovable, undesired, undesirable women. Then the prideof race reasserted itself; after all, she was the mistress, and this, hertormentor, was her servant. For once, goaded out of her measuredcorrectness, the Duchess became vital, vehement, agonisedly energeticand passionate. She swept past Wilhelmine to the door of her apartment;she flung it open, and called loudly to the sentry who stood below in thecourtyard, bidding him summon the captain of the guard and a detachmentof men-at-arms. The man's hurried steps rang out as he clattered acrossthe courtyard. Then the silence was only broken by the heavy breathing ofthe maddened woman at the door, and once more Wilhelmine heard the swishand whirl of the wings as the doves flew about the balustrade. Then camethe even tramp of men, and a captain of the guard, with drawn sword, stood in the doorway before her Highness, the yellow and silver of themen's uniforms making a picture of gay colours framed in the greystonework of the balcony beyond. 'Remove that woman! She has insulted me! Take her across the moat, andclose the castle door upon her. She shall not enter here again!' TheDuchess's voice came short and sharp. 'But, your Highness----' began the captain. 'Do as I command!' broke in Johanna Elizabetha; and never had man orwoman heard the 'Dull Duchess' speak in so proud a tone. The captain approached Wilhelmine; he feared her and dreaded the Duke'sindignation. 'Mademoiselle de Grävenitz, ' he said hesitatingly, 'I must obey; believeme, I do not understand----' 'Nor need you, ' answered Wilhelmine haughtily; 'I am ready to follow you. Your Highness, ' and she bent in the usual courtesy; but the poor Duchesscould not see it, for she had hidden her face in her hands, and, withconvulsive sobs, she wept in a painful reaction of weakness after heroutburst of passionate decision. * * * * * Wilhelmine found herself standing beyond the moat, with the iron gateleading to the castle courtyard grimly closed upon her. It was aperplexing moment; she knew not whither she might seek shelter, and shewished to avoid scandal as far as possible. The Duke had gone to Urach toinspect the coverts for the autumn hunting, and he would not return forseveral days. Madame de Ruth was in the castle, unconscious of thestirring events of the morning. Stafforth had accompanied the Duke, andshe knew Madame de Stafforth would not receive her if she made known thecause of her departure from the castle. She realised, with dismay, thatwhen she went to the Duchess she had, naturally, not taken money withher, so that she could not even seek the shelter of an inn. It was anawkward predicament, and yet so ridiculous to this woman, certain of theDuke-ruler's homage, that she laughed gently to herself as she walkedslowly away through the castle gardens towards the town. The air wasstill and heavy, and the sound of cries and traffic from the market-placecame to her distinctly. To her right lay the Duke's Jägerhaus and thekennels, from whence came an occasional bark from some of EberhardLudwig's numerous hounds. Where should she go? The question was becoming urgent, for the heat ofmidday approached and already her head ached dully. She walked on, hardlynoticing that she had passed beyond the garden gate, and it was with astart that she suddenly realised she had wandered to an unfamiliar partof the town. She was in a narrow street, where the overhanging higherstories of the houses approached each other so closely that the skybetween them seemed to be but a distant blue streak. Instinctively shehad turned into this shaded gangway to escape from the burning sun. Toher horror she felt a curious weakness creeping over her, a boomingsounded in her ears, and the veins of her throat seemed to have swelledas though the blood would burst through the skin. She put up her hand tothe velvet ribbon which she wore round her neck, and her fingers pulledawkwardly, impatiently, impotently at it. She felt as if her eyeballswere pushed violently outwards by clumsy, heavy finger-tips. She leanedagainst the wall of one of the houses, and, with the idea of avoidance ofscandal still working numbly in her brain, she turned her head this wayand that to see if there were any observers of her pitiful plight; butthe street lay to right and left, sordid, silent, and deserted. Shereflected that, of course, the inhabitants must be sheltering from theheat--sleeping, perhaps--Ah! sleeping!--and she was so tired, so deathlyweary--and her feet were so heavy--so far away--and heavy---- Surely Monsieur Gabriel would be pleased with that melody? Wilhelmineturned towards him, then half-consciousness returning told her she wasnot in Güstrow. Where was she? She moved, tried to sit up; on her brow ahand, cool and soothing, pressed her backwards, closing her aching eyes. Once more her thoughts sank downwards--flickered, as it were. What did itsignify where she was, after all? Everything was far off. What scent wasthat? Wonderful! She drew it in to her lungs, and it seemed to fill herbreast with fragrant freshness. With a sigh, she came back from some dimworld and opened her eyes. A strange face bent over her and she staredwonderingly at it. Surely she was dreaming still, for it was the face ofa picture she knew. Remembrance came, ere full consciousness grasped swayof her--Savonarola, the Monk of San Marco. She had seen a wood-cutportrait of the inspired fanatic in a book of Eberhard Ludwig's library. She lay, scarcely returned from her unconsciousness, gazing at this face. Yes, Savonarola! The powerful, broken brow, the small, piercing eyes, therugged cheeks, the whole face dominated by the huge nose. Then fullconsciousness returned to her, and she saw that this was no fanaticgenius, no monk of Italy, but an old woman with an extraordinaryphysiognomy, who was watching her with patient, kindly eyes. Wilhelminesat up, pushing from her brow a cloth soaked in some essence, from whencecame the delicious pungent scent which had recalled her from her trance. 'Where am I?' she asked. 'You are safe, and, I pray you, rest, ' answered a hoarse, weak voice. 'I thank you, ' Wilhelmine said, 'I will rest; but, at least, tell mewhere I am and who you are?' 'I am the widow of Ishakar Ben Hazzim, and you fainted at my door, so Itook you in. ' 'A very Christian action from a Jew, and I thank you, ' replied Wilhelminehaughtily. All the unreasoning hatred of the Jewish race lay in herwithdrawal from even ordinary gratitude towards the woman who had rescuedher. The face above her darkened, and the kind eyes changed to flickeringpin-points of anger. 'Christian? Nay, girl; it is Christian to be cruel! Christian? God of myfathers! it is Christian to murder and oppress! Did you not hear that Itold you I am the widow of Ishakar Ben Hazzim, the son of Israel? and inmy house, when I have anointed your head with rare essences to cool youfrom your sun-faint, you insult me, and you owe me no affront!' There wasa pride in the woman's manner which appealed to Wilhelmine. 'Indeed, I meant none, and I thank you for your courtesy, ' she said, andsmiled. 'Well, rest you then, ' replied the Jewess in a mollified tone; and againsilence fell between the two women. 'Why do Jews hate the Christians?' Wilhelmine asked, after some time. Shewas interested, for this was a new and surprising view; partly, too, sheasked the question from lazy curiosity. 'Hate them? Would not you?' returned the woman harshly. 'Why should you?' the girl asked. 'Do you know anything of the story of our race, you who ask? No? Well, Iwill tell you. For centuries we have been outcasts, treated like beggars, like scum; for ages we have suffered for the acts of our ancestors ofhundreds of generations past, and always the Christian has sought toprofit by our misfortunes; and have we been credulous of their promises, they have returned us jibes and disdain. ' 'But the Jews committed a terrible wrong, ' Wilhelmine interrupted; 'theycrucified the----' 'Crucified! crucified!' broke in the Jewess angrily, 'we are weary of thevery word! We crucified Him as you hang rebels, and He happened to be aCharmer who inspired a new religion--yours! and for ever since youChristians who rant of pardon, tenderness, moderation, love of all theworld--you have oppressed us with a vengeance so terrible, so relentless, that we in our turn have learnt to hate and contrive vengeance. ' 'But can you?' Wilhelmine smiled mockingly. 'Ah! but wait! Some day we, who have no heritage--we shall inherit theearth!' The old Jewess's voice trailed, and into its muttered tonesthrilled the accent of the mystic belief of race destiny which lives sostrongly in the children of Israel. Wilhelmine, upon whom no hint ofpower, of fate, or of belief in the unknown, ever failed to work, listened with growing interest. She questioned the old crone, andsucceeded in drawing from her a long and impassioned tirade upon thewrongs of the race of Israel. No one could charm people as could Wilhelmine; her vitality, her sonorousvoice, the quick sympathy which drew confidences from the mostreserved--in fine, her magnetic force, made her, when she chose, the mostirresistible of beings. And she exerted herself to exercise herattraction upon the Jewess, for her curiosity was thoroughly aroused, andalso with her strange instinct for power she scented a possible use toher, if she could count upon the adherence of a silent, secret force likethe Jews. The old Jewess told how her people were constantly incommunication with their fellow Jews of every land; she said that one whodid a service to a Jew was always sure of finding support from the wholerace; and Wilhelmine's quick brain and vivid imagination wove a romanticweb, herself the centre thereof, holding in one hand the power ofWirtemberg's court, and in the other the secret thread commanding thecommercial enterprises undertaken by freed and grateful Israelites. Romantic certainly, but very lucrative to the heroine of this self-wovenromance! 'Well, Widow Hazzim, ' she said at length, 'destiny has brought me to you. Some day I may have power to help your race, will you vouch me gratitudeand support in return?' She spoke lightly, but her eyes were serious andwatchful, and her hands gripped the essence-soaked kerchief which she hadtaken from her brow. The Jewess laughed. 'Do us a service and you will see!' she answered. At this moment the door, which led to some inner room, opened, and a boyappeared on the threshold. 'My great-nephew, lady, ' said the Jewess; 'his mother is my niece. He cansing like the heavenly seraphim, and great beauty of body is his aswell. ' She whispered the last statement in that fatal whisper wherewiththe aged often give conceited self-consciousness to children. The boy advanced: graceful, perfect in line, glowing in his Jewishyouthful beauty, which is usually over-bold, a trifle insolent and hard. He approached Wilhelmine, and bent before her in a salute so ceremoniousthat it was at once strangely appealing from a child, and yet unctuousand unnatural. Wilhelmine gave him her hand and inquired his name. 'Joseph Süss Oppenheimer, musician, ' he replied gravely. 'Indeed? Musician!' she said, laughing. 'Thy profession already fixed andentitled. ' 'My father is a musician; he sings before courts, and I shall do thesame, ' he added proudly. Wilhelmine laughed. The boy's calm assurance of success pleased her, andhis unusual beauty attracted her, as all personal comeliness invariablydid. 'He knows what he wants, this Joseph Süss, ' she said; 'and to know whatone wants, to know it decidedly, is the first step to achievement. Graspsuccess firmly and it is yours!' The boy looked at her, fascinated by her loveliness, dominated by hervoice and the creed which she enunciated. The old Jewess sent the boy tofetch his guitar, and when he returned she desired him to sing for herguest's entertainment. Joseph Süss, with the too precocious manner of the Jewish child, inquiredwith another elaborate bow if Wilhelmine would care to hear his voice. She begged him to let her hear the seraphim sing. The boy caught the noteof irony in her phrase; flushing deeply, he laid aside his guitar andwould have run away had not Wilhelmine, with her easy self-indulgentkindness of heart to those who did not get in her way, called him backand propitiated him with smiling reassurances. The boy seated himselfnear her and sang. His voice was deliciously fresh and clear, andWilhelmine, delightedly, made him sing again and again till the child'srepertory was exhausted. She praised him and fondled him, and takingfrom her breast a small jewelled pin, engraved with her initials, shefastened it in his coat. 'A remembrance, dear musician, ' she said laughing. She was destined tosee that jewel again after long years, when humiliation and defeat cameto her, striking her down at the zenith of her brilliant career. CHAPTER IX 'SHE COMES TO STAY THIS TIME' EBERHARD LUDWIG stood before his dull Duchess, his eyes fixed on herheavy, handsome face with a look of such stern anger, that the unhappywoman felt herself to be a criminal before some harsh, implacable judge. The phrases she had prepared in her mind during the two days since shehad expelled her rival from the castle faded away, and seemed to falterfrom proud statements to a mere apology, an anxious pleading. The Duke remained standing, one hand leant upon the back of a chair, theother hung at his side, and Johanna Elizabetha could see that his fingerswere clenched and reclenched with such force that the knuckles showedbluey white; otherwise the man might have been made of stone and his eyesof metal, so motionless and rigid was the whole figure. He had enteredher apartment, and had demanded in a voice of controlled passion, deepwith the effort he made to render it cold and courteous, 'Madame, whereis your Highness's lady-in-waiting?' She met the question with a tremulous torrent of words. 'I have dismissedMademoiselle de Grävenitz. I required her services no longer; she did notplease me; she has left the castle, probably the town. I do not knowwhere she is. ' 'I ask again, Madame la Duchesse, whither you have sent Mademoiselle deGrävenitz? You must have been aware of her destination before youpermitted a young lady to leave the shelter of our castle, ' he said. Andthe Duchess replied by an angry outburst, a hailstorm of reproaches, before which Eberhard Ludwig remained silent, cold, rigidlyself-contained. The Duchess paused; it was like beating one's handagainst some adamantine barrier. She had the sensation that all she said, felt, suffered, passed unnoticed; the man before her was waiting forinformation, that was all. It was intolerable, and the hopelessness ofany pleading came to her. 'My husband, ' she said in another tone, calm and cold as his, 'I haveendured enough. I have the right to dismiss my lady-in-waiting if I thinkfit. I have done so, and the lady will not enter my apartments again, norwill she be admitted to any court festivities wherein I take part. ' Sheturned away; her despairing consciousness of ultimate humiliation seemedto choke her, though her very defeat was transformed to a moral victoryby her resigned dignity. The Duke moved forward. 'At least tell me whathas occurred, ' he said hurriedly. 'When I left you three days ago therewas no word of any dispute. I thought I left peace, ' he added in apuzzled tone. The Duchess came towards him. She held out her hands in a gesture ofappeal: 'Eberhard, be just to me! I bore it as long as I could, but thatwoman's presence was a daily torture to me. Have a mistress, if need be, 'this last bitterly, 'but at least do not cause her to be my companion. Itis not fitting. ' The blood rushed to the Duke's face. 'Mademoiselle deGrävenitz is fit to be the companion of saints, of angels!' he retortedangrily. 'She will return to court, I warn your Highness. ' He turnedabruptly and left the Duchess's apartment. If the Duke, with the blindness of the enamoured, really had imaginedpeace to reign in his palace prior to his sojourn at Urach, on his returneven love and anxiety could not hide the excitement and unrest which thedeparture of the favourite had caused in the castle of Stuttgart. Madamede Ruth, flinging etiquette to the winds, had met his Highness in thecourtyard when he rode in from Urach, and had greeted him with the newsof Wilhelmine's flight. The good lady was genuinely distressed, and hadmade unceasing search in the town, but naturally no one had thought ofseeking in the Judengasse behind the Leonards Kirche. Wilhelmine seemedto have vanished off the face of the earth, and there were not wantingmurmurers among the Duchess's servitors who averred that witches had everbeen able to vanish at will, and that probably 'the Grävenitzin' wouldreturn in the form of a black cat or a serpent, and suddenly change intoa woman again when it suited her. They were all in a flutter ofsuperstitious excitement; and Maria the maid, who loved Wilhelmine, wentabout with reddened eyes, and was much questioned below stairs. The Duke, on hearing the news from Madame de Ruth, had repairedimmediately to the Duchess, but, as we have seen, he had extracted noinformation from the lady, she having none to give. When his Highnessleft the Duchess's apartment he stormed up to Madame de Ruth'sdwelling-room, and after some deliberation summoned Forstner and chargedhim with the unpleasant duty of leading a search party which was suppliedwith a ducal warrant to enter all houses of every grade in Stuttgart. Forstner, of course, urged patience; the missing one would return orcommunicate, he said; but the Duke greeted the word patience with such anoutburst of anger that the 'Bony One' retired discomfited and gave ordersfor the search with apparent zeal. Evening fell on the sun-baked streets of Stuttgart, and a faint breezewafted a recollection of field and wood through the open windows of thecastle. Eberhard Ludwig paced up and down, near the fountain in thecastle gardens, where he had been with Wilhelmine on the moonlit night ofthe theatricals three months ago. He flung himself down upon the stonebench where they had sat together. He covered his eyes with his hands, hewas tortured with memories, thrilled again to past raptures; his desirewas aroused, increased a hundred-fold by the anguish of absence. Could itbe true that such passion's enchantments were never to be his again? heasked himself. His memory conjured up a thousand charms of his beloved, her voice, her laugh, her touch. 'Wilhelmine, Wilhelmine!' He sprang up. 'God! it is awful! Wilhelmine, my love, my mistress!' hesaid aloud. Ridiculous poet-fellow! he listened as though he expected ananswer. In the distance there was a rumble of thunder, and the restless breezerioted suddenly in the tree-branches for a moment, passed onward, thenswept back again rustling, then came a roll of thunder closer than thelast. Another pause--fateful it seemed, as though the garden trembledbefore the coming storm. A white flash played intermittently upon thefountain, followed by a thunderclap directly overhead, and a torrent ofrain poured down. The Duke stood still a moment, the rain beating uponhim. The storm delighted him, it answered to his tempestuous mood. Heturned away from the castle and walked in the direction of the gardenboundary on the south side, passing the drawbridge over the disused andflower-filled moat of the castle wall. What would have been his emotionshad he known that his fancy led him to wander whither Wilhelmine hadpassed but three days before? He came to the garden's limit and stoodlooking towards the dimly discernible openings of several narrow streets, the oldest and most ill-famed gangways of the town. Of a sudden hedescried a small form muffled in a sombre cloak. The street was utterlydeserted save for Eberhard Ludwig himself and this forlorn little figure, and the Duke's attention was thus arrested. The pouring rain had notextinguished the light of the two dilapidated hanging lamps, which werefixed upon the walls of the street from whence had issued the diminutivenight-wanderer, whom the Duke saw was now making for the castle. The true Wirtemberger vanishes like smoke before the first drop of rain, and the Duke therefore concluded that any errand undertaken, andcontinued, in a downpour must be for a purpose of paramount importance. So he watched with curiosity the approaching figure, observing withsurprise that it was a child of some ten years old. 'Ha, young person, ' called the Duke, as the child reached him; 'whitheraway so fast, and what may he want in the castle gardens at this time ofnight?' Thus apostrophised, the figure hesitated; then apparently alarmed by thesight of the Duke's military cloak, and probably taking him for a sentryor a garden guard, the child ducked forward and would have made a boltpast his interrogator. But the Duke, who was amused and half-suspiciousof the boy's errand, caught the figure by his heavy cloak, and draggedhim, a trifle roughly, under the light of the lantern at the oppositestreet corner. 'Now he shall tell me where he was going, ' Serenissimus said laughing. The disdainful use of the third person singular seemed to anger the boy, who stood silent and sullen, with bent head. 'But he _shall_ tell me, 'repeated the Duke, enforcing his command by a rough shake. 'I will not tell you! What concern is it of yours?' the boy replied atlength. The Duke bent a puzzled look upon his prisoner, whose voice was refined, and whose German was guiltless of the rude Swabian accent. He did notspeak like a gutter child, and the face which he turned upon Eberhard wasstartlingly beautiful. Still the Duke was suspicious. Why should this boybe slinking to the castle by night? His Highness disliked mysteries, orthought he did; though, as a matter of fact, he was always attracted bythe mysterious, afraid of it, yet anxious to unravel. He gave the boyanother shake. It was a physical relief to shake some one after the longhours of anxiety, and the control he had been forced to exercise upon hislonging to shake the Duchess--no new wish on his part, and the onlydesire that estimable lady had inspired in his breast for many years. Sothe Duke shook his little prisoner again and again. The boy remained passive; he was breathless, but he met the Duke'shalf-laughing, half-angry eyes with a bold look of defiance. His Highness ceased shaking the child, feeling distinctly ashamed. 'Willhe tell me now?' he asked more gently. As he said the words, something caught the uncertain light of thelamps--a little jewel which glittered in the boy's coat. It was exposedto view by the disarrangement of the cloak caused by the rough handling. 'Lord God!' exclaimed the Duke, catching the boy by the arm once more, 'where in the devil's name did you get that?' The boy clasped his free hand over the jewel, and proceeded to kickEberhard Ludwig's shins with all the violence he could muster. 'A ladygave it to me, and you shall never have it! I will kill you sooner!' hecried grandiloquently. 'Be quiet, boy. I am a friend; tell me your errand. If it concerns thelady who gave you that jewel, I alone can be of assistance. ' In hisvoice lay so pure a note of truth that the boy instinctively turned tohim trustfully. 'I have a message for the Duke from the lady. If you are a friend to her, you can tell me how to find him. The lady says I am to go to the castleand ask for Madame de Ruth, who will take me to his Highness if he hascome back from hunting; then she said all would be well. ' To the boy's astonishment his big questioner suddenly let go his arm, and, leaning against the house wall, covered his face with his hands, shivered as though from an ague fit. When the man took his hands frombefore his face, the child saw that his eyes were full of tears. The boywondered why so many grown-up people were so foolish. 'Quick, boy! take me to her!' he cried. 'No; that is just what I am not to do, ' was the reply. 'I am to tell herwhere the Duke will meet her to-morrow morning early. ' 'To-morrow morning! A million leaden moments! a century to pass! No! Boy, take me to her! I am the Duke; take me to her, I order you. ' 'No; you may be the Duke, but she has given me her commands, and theymean more to me than yours. ' The boy threw up his head proudly. Even inhis passionate impatience Serenissimus was struck by the boy's manner, amused by this small gentleman. 'Preux Chevalier!' he said laughing; then bowing gravely to the littlemuffled figure, 'you are perfectly correct, and I stand reproved; but atleast do me the honour to carry this ring to the lady, and tell her thatI await either her or her sovereign commands. ' The boy took the ring and vanished into the blackness of the side street. Eberhard Ludwig remained looking after him into the gloom. A bitterthought came to him of the superiority of this child of the back streetsover the Erbprinz of Wirtemberg--that poor, sickly, excitable boy, whosedisappointing personality was a source of constant irritation andhumiliation to his father. Eberhard Ludwig loved personal vitality, andthat vigorous manliness which he himself possessed, and which he sawdaily in the sons of his poorest subjects; and he suffered intenselywhen he was brought into contact with his puny, unwholesome son. TheDuchess's passionate spoiling and injudicious love made matters worse;the boy's health was in nowise benefited thereby, and it but served toaccentuate the fact that his father had little else save impatient pityto bestow upon his disappointing offspring. This was in Eberhard Ludwig'smind as his eyes rested absently upon the street opening whither hadvanished the erect little form of Joseph Süss--'preux chevalier, ' as theDuke had dubbed him. The summer storm had passed, leaving a deliciousfreshness in the air and a fragrance which penetrated from the gardens tothe Duke. Eberhard Ludwig stood waiting near the entrance to the narrowstreet or gangway, where the overhanging roofs dripped large splashingdrops upon the unpaved earth below. Now that realisation was in allprobability so near, his wild desire for Wilhelmine seemed to havepassed; a curious anxiety had taken its place. How strange, the Dukereflected, that loss or absence should enhance the value of the beloved. He tried to conjure up his agony of longing for his mistress. What madrapture, could he have clasped her at the moment of tremendous desirewhich had been his half an hour earlier in the castle garden! Are wereally only children crying for the moon? and if the moon were given tous, should we but throw it away into the nearest ditch--merely anotherbroken toy? he thought. These moods of Eberhard Ludwig's were frequent. Like all poets, he had a vein of melancholy, a tendency to indulgehimself in a half-sensuous sadness, and these dreamings of his, which hadnever been received with ought save uncomprehending impatience by theDuchess, Wilhelmine had known so well how to assuage--not entirely todissipate, for she would have robbed him of a certain joy had she doneso; but she humoured him, understood him, wandered with him in the pathsof his enchanted melancholy, then suddenly brought him back to gaiety bysome witty word, some tender pleasantry. It was part of her immense powerover him, and indeed, it was no thing of the senses, but rather herwomanly genius, her innate knowledge of loving. As he stood awaiting her, his heart cried for her; he was no longer stirred by physical desire, but he craved the consolation of her presence as a child wearies for itsmother's love. Indeed, in most passions which have outlasted the flash ofsheer animal attraction, there has ever been that touch of mother-love inthe affection given by the woman to the man. And it is this whicheternally makes the entirely desirable woman older than the man sheloves. The minutes passed slowly as Eberhard Ludwig stood waiting for some signfrom Wilhelmine. At length his Highness heard an approaching footstep. Heturned quickly, in his excitement not noting that the steps came from thedirection of the castle garden. He started forward with outstretchedarms. Forstner stood before him, a ridiculous figure as usual; his large, tiresome nose shadowed on the wall by the uncertain light of the hanginglanterns. 'Really, Monsieur de Forstner!' broke out the Duke angrily, 'it isintolerable to be thus followed! Am I not at liberty to take a strollunquestioned?' The astonished courtier attempted to explain that he had not known hisHighness to be wandering near the Judengasse, but Eberhard Ludwig cut himshort and desired him to go on his way. Forstner begged to be permittedto accompany his Highness. 'This is not a part of the town where it isfitting your Highness should be alone at night. ' The reproving tone ofthe schoolmaster (that inextinguishable dweller of the innermost whichabides for ever in the breast of every honest German) crept into thewords, and Eberhard Ludwig's irritation was the more aroused. 'Will you go and leave me to myself, Forstner, you insufferable ass!' Thewords broke forth half fiercely, half humorously. Forstner drew himself up with a certain stiff dignity. 'Were that termapplied to me by any but my Prince, I should answer with the sword, ' hesaid. The Duke laughed impatiently. 'I retract--I apologise--I beg yourforgiveness; you are an excellent fellow, a dear friend--only for God'ssake, man, go away!' 'But your Highness--I beg you to consider----' the other began. 'Look here, Forstner, ' the Duke interrupted, 'if you don't go--now, atonce, and leave me alone, upon my soul I will run you through!' Hehalf-drew his sword. 'Really, Monseigneur, ' replied Forstner, 'I am ready to obey yourHighness, but----' 'Well, then, _go_!' The Duke was getting beyond himself; each moment hefeared Wilhelmine would appear, and Forstner was not a person he desiredas witness either to his meeting with his beloved, or to her advent fromthe lowest part of the town. The estimable Forstner had at length commenced his departure, but he wasdistant only a few paces when the Duke heard a laugh coming from thegloom of the shadowed Judengasse. It was a laugh which, thoughlow-pitched and quiet, had a resonant distinctness which caused it tocarry a long way. 'Wait, for Heaven's sake, till he is gone, ' his Highness whispered overhis shoulder into the darkness, observing to his dismay that Forstner hadhalted. 'Did your Highness call me?' asked the too-devoted friend, and made asthough to return. 'No; I coughed. Do go away!' shouted the Duke in return, and set himselfto cough vigorously, for behind him from the darkened street there camethe unmistakable sound of Wilhelmine's irrepressible laughter. At length the angular figure vanished, and the Duke sprang round witharms outstretched, and into them he received the stately form of hismistress, who lay upon his breast; for once unresponsive to hispassionate kisses, while she laughed in a very agony of mirth. 'Forgive me, Monseigneur, ' she said at last, her voice still shaking withlaughter; 'but you know the scene was really beyond me. I heard all, andoh! Forstner was so droll, and you too. ' She began to laugh again. 'Oh, how delightfully undignified, mon Prince--when you coughed to hide mylaughter. ' Once more she leaned against Eberhard Ludwig's shoulder and rocked withmerriment. The Duke also laughed, but a trifle ruefully; that meddlerForstner had destroyed the rapture of his meeting with Wilhelmine, hadbroken the charm of his pensive mood; and besides, the Duke knew fromexperience that when Wilhelmine began to laugh like that he wouldprobably hear no serious word from her during the evening. Even in theirpassion's transports he had known his mistress suddenly go off into aseries of 'fous rires, ' and no man enjoys the most harmless laughter atsuch moments. 'Wilhelmine, for God's sake stop laughing, and tell me where you havebeen since the Duchess--since the Duchess----' he hesitated, not knowinghow to express the summary ejection from the castle. 'Since her Highness had the goodness to turn me out. ' Wilhelmine wasserious now, though her lips still twitched with mirth, and her eyes weremischievous and teasing. 'Nay, your Highness, that is my secret. I havealways a hiding-place whither I can vanish when you are not good to me. Shall I disappear again? I have but to say a mystic word and yourHighness will clasp empty air. ' She was play-acting, as she often did, and she looked up at him with such dazzling eyes that he caught her tohim with masterful passion. 'Witch! enchantress!' he murmured. 'What matters it where you were; youare here now with me, and never to part again!' 'Till death us do part, ' she answered. 'Nay, those are the words men sayto their wives, not to their----' A note of bitterness pierced themockery of her tone. 'Ah! heart of mine, ' he broke in vehemently, 'would that I could make youDuchess! You are my wife by all laws of fairest nature and love! This isa more holy thing than marriage--nay, this is true marriage!' It was theeternal lie of lovers: the old futile, pathetic, impossible pleading ofthose whose love cannot be sanctioned by law. Wilhelmine's face darkened. 'Monseigneur, if you could make Forstner and his sort believe that, Ishould not be taunted and insulted. But come, now, we cannot discuss thishere. Will you tell me where you propose to lodge me this night, or shallI vanish again?' Her gaiety had returned. 'I must ask you to accept the hospitality of my roof to-night, ' he saidgravely; 'to-morrow I will seek a fitting abode for you. ' 'Ah! a mistress's separate establishment. ' Her voice was bitter again. Was there ever such a difficult woman for lover to deal with? But thatwas half her charm. 'Wilhelmine, do not torture me. I will do all I can, and I pray you, never call your house a mistress's establishment--call it rather thepalace of my heart's queen. ' 'Prettily put, and meaning exactly the same!' She was laughing once more; she loved when Eberhard Ludwig spoke in thischivalrous tone, as every woman does, thinking it a tribute to her ownespecial dignity when it is often only a deft trick of speech. Laughingand talking and teasing her beloved, she allowed him to lead her awaythrough the gardens. Within the castle commotion prevailed. Serving-men and maids ran hitherand thither in an excited and aimless fashion; they started back insurprise and dismay when they perceived Wilhelmine's tall figure besidethe Duke, but neither his Highness nor the lady stopped to question theservants on the cause of the disturbance. When they reached the firstfloor, where dwelt the Duchess Johanna Elizabetha, and would have passedon to gain Wilhelmine's apartments, they found themselves confronted by agroup of persons talking in excited whispers. Prelate Osiander, certainlynot one whom Eberhard Ludwig desired as a witness to Wilhelmine'sre-entry; Madame de Stafforth, the Countess Gemmingen, one of theDuchess's ladies; Dr. Mürger, second court physician; two of herHighness's waiting-women. Madame de Ruth was also there, and it struckWilhelmine as ominous that the lady of many words and ready wit stoodsilent and constrained. 'What is this?' queried Eberhard Ludwig angrily in a loud tone. Theassembled persons turned in startled surprise. Osiander came forward. 'Your Highness's wife, the Duchess Johanna Elizabetha, is sick untodeath, and your Highness was not to be found for all our search, ' he saidsternly, and without deigning to cast a glance upon Wilhelmine. 'What ails the Duchess?' asked Eberhard Ludwig, turning to Dr. Mürger. 'It would seem to be a stroke of blood to the brain, your Highness--adangerous thing to one of the Duchess's robust physique. Dr. Schubart isoccupied in bleeding her Highness. My assistance was dispensed with, ' headded in an offended tone. At this moment the door of the Duchess's chamber opened, and Monsieur leDocteur Schubart, first doctor to the court and a very pompous person, appeared. 'I am relieved to be able to declare her Highness the Duchess to bereturned from her strange swoon. I have the honour to announce that herHighness's cherished life will be spared to her devoted subjects. ' The man was odiously unctuous and self-satisfied. Madame de Stafforthburst into weak weeping, while Osiander gravely offered hiscongratulations to Eberhard Ludwig upon the recovery of 'his noble anddevoted wife. ' There lay something of true dignity and sober goodness inthe Prelate's whole being which never failed to impress Wilhelmine, andshe felt his entire ignoring of her to be a heavy public reproof from acompetent judge. There was a moment's awkward silence when the Prelateceased speaking, and every eye was turned to the pair of handsome loversas they stood side by side, framed in the oaken panelling of the doorwayleading to the stairs. Madame de Ruth, who hated pauses, came forward andheld out her hand to Wilhelmine. 'My dear, I am glad to see you, ' she said kindly. Wilhelmine, whom Osiander's disapproval had irritated, replied calmly:'Yes, I have returned, and to stay this time!' It was said defiantly. Now it is well known that love makes the wisest of mankind foolish, andthat the poet in love is a perfectly unaccountable being. Eberhard Ludwigwas poet and lover, and he lost his head on this occasion. 'Returned to stay, dear lady, as long as my poor court can harbour andamuse so fair a visitant!' he said; then, turning to Madame de Ruth, headded in a lower tone, which was yet perfectly audible to most of theassembled company: 'The rain-cloud brought back sunshine to us. A flashof lightning carried her from Elysium to earth once more. A mysteriousBlack Cupid led her to me! but we must be very careful, for she canvanish at will, this beautiful enchantress. ' It was said in extravagant homage, half in pleasantry, but several ofthose present, and notably the Duchess's waiting-women, heard the unwisewords. When Wilhelmine swept past them on her way to her chamber theydrew back in superstitious awe, and she heard them murmur, 'Witch andsorceress! we must not offend her. ' CHAPTER X THE ATTACK IN THE GROTTO THE court of Stuttgart soon saw to its cost that Wilhelmine had of atruth 'come to stay this time, ' as she herself had announced on theevening of her return from the Judengasse. After a few days spent in herold quarters in the castle, she removed to a hastily improvised abode onthe first floor of the Duke's Jägerhaus. Here had been the officialresidence of his Highness's Grand Maître de la Meute, and this personage, who was relegated to a small and inconvenient dwelling-place, naturallyresented his eviction. Public disapproval was excited by the summarycommandeering of a well-known official residence; and when, followingupon their keeper's ejection, the stag-hounds and hare-coursers wereremoved from the Jägerhaus, the Stuttgarters murmured ominously. It hadlong been a highly prized privilege of the townsfolk to repair, eachSunday and Feast-day, to view the hounds--in fact, this custom had becomeone of their social entertainments. The burghers and their families werewont to meet together in the stretch of garden which bordered the openrails of the enclosure, where the hounds took their afternoon airing onidle, non-hunting days. The citizens loved to watch the dogs' antics, andregarded it as their recognised Sunday afternoon amusement. In theGraben, or disused town moat, turned road, stood the Jägerhaus--a long, barn-like building, the entire ground-floor whereof was occupied by thedog-kennels, which opened to the back on paddocks. On the first floorwere many spacious apartments, hitherto used for the administration ofthe affairs of his Highness's hunt, and for lodging the Jägermasters ofdistant posts in the forests, who came to Stuttgart on official business;and here, too, was the residence of the Grand Master of the Hunt andhounds. On the third floor, beneath the high sloping roof, were a fewgarrets and several large lofts filled with the straw destined for thedog-kennels. The mingled odours of hounds and straw displeasedWilhelmine's acute sense of smell, and one of her first commands uponentering her new abode was that hounds and straw should be removedinstantly. She declared that therefrom the whole house was infested withfleas, and when the Duke, wishful to propitiate the angry lady, proposedto send for the late occupant of the Jägerhaus to inquire if he had beenaware of his neighbours, the fleas, she remarked angrily that fleas weredainty feeders and, like Jews, were not in the habit of selecting pigskinfor food. This remark was evidently heard by some unfriendly person, foron the morrow it was the common talk of the town. A few days later thehounds were seen progressing through Stuttgart on their way to temporarykennels hastily arranged in the Rothwald. The populace followed thiscortège shouting, 'They are taking away our beautiful hounds, and leavingan accursed bitch in the old kennels!' And that day when Serenissimusdrove out, accompanied as usual by Wilhelmine, he was met by an angrymurmuring crowd. Here was the beginning of that unpopularity ofWilhelmine's which gave the lie to the devotion of her friends, andnotably her personal attendants and servants. This unpopularity which hadso terrible an effect on her character, hardening her heart, accentuatingthe underlying cruelty, the indifference to aught save her own pleasureand power. Feeling herself accounted evil, she became so. It was this, taken together with her magnificent success and her extraordinaryprosperity, which caused her to become a cruel and self-seeking woman. Monsieur Gabriel, in the far-off days at Güstrow, had feared thisdevelopment, had trembled before the world-hardness which would mar thebeing he loved. How many have trembled at the same thought, and insadness and loneliness have realised that their dread has become a cruelreality! We can face Death for those we love, mourning them in agony andtears, but we can find no beauty in that bitter and hideous grief whichcomes to us when those we loved, we trusted, we admired, change tous--worst of all, change in themselves. This is the inexorable Death inLife, and in this Death we cannot dream of a fair consoling Hereafter. The thing we loved has not only perished--alas! we realise that it hasnever existed! What we worshipped was the shadow of our own making, amirage conjured up by our heart's desire. To those who love most, lovebest, this tragedy comes. Wilhelmine, who arrived in Wirtemberg a strong, passionate creature, generous, vital, was too responsive to remain unaltered by thealchemising touch of the world. Had she been met with tenderness andpurity, and by noble men and women, she might have become a power forgood; as it was, she was received by intrigue, contending interests, disapproval, distrust, the lust of love. As a good woman there was noplace for her at Wirtemberg's court, so all the evil, lying dormant inevery human heart, rose up in her, and she became a Queen of Wickedness. Monsieur Gabriel would have mourned another lost illusion, had not Deathtaken him from this world a few months after Wilhelmine's departure fromGüstrow. He bequeathed to her his well-worn books, _Les Pensées dePascal_, _Le Roman de la Rose_, the poems of the singers of La Pleïade, and the few other volumes wherefrom he had instructed his beloved pupil. He left, besides, a little sealed packet, in which she was surprised tofind several beautiful jewels, among them a white enamel cross, in thecentre whereof was the image of a dove with outspread wings. Eberhard Ludwig told her these were the insignia of a high order inFrance, and she was thereby confirmed in her notion that her beloved oldschoolmaster's great air and immense refinement were those of a grandseigneur. She often pondered on why a Huguenot had been permitted to bearthe holy order of the St. Esprit upon his breast, but she remembered thatMonsieur Gabriel had spoken of the court festivities with that sureaccent which told that he had been of the caste which took part in thosescenes. She never learnt his secret; to her credit, she never sought tounravel it. The Grävenitz was what the world calls wicked, but vulgarityand vulgarity's attendant, curiosity, could not touch her, and sherespected the silence of her friends, though she ever spied upon herenemies. The news of Monsieur Gabriel's death was brought to Wilhelminesoon after her advent at the Jägerhaus, and for many days the favouriterefused to see any one save Eberhard Ludwig. She mourned her old friendsincerely, and wept bitterly when she saw the worn volumes he hadbequeathed to her. The cross she fastened round her neck on a thin goldchain, and this badge of a sacred order rested for many years on theheart of the strange, evil woman. You can see the tiny line of this chainin the few known portraits of Wilhelmine von Grävenitz. These picturesare very rare, Time and Hatred have hidden them but too well. Indeed, itis as though all the Swabian virtue had conspired together to obliteratethe memory, with the portraits, of the abhorred 'Grävenitzin. ' For the nonce, life was very peaceful for Wilhelmine in the Jägerhaus;and the Duke, entirely enthralled by his mistress, humoured her everywhim. Madame de Ruth said mockingly to Zollern that a more exemplaryyoung married couple than 'Monsieur et Madame Eberhard Ludwig' she hadnever seen. But the feeling against the favourite in Stuttgart grew eachday, and the fact that his Highness had caused much that was of beautyand value in the castle to be removed to the Jägerhaus gave umbrage tothe courtiers. Even Zollern remonstrated, but in vain. Meanwhile theJägerhaus had become a splendid abode: rich yellow silken hangings hidthe bare whitewashed walls of the chamber Wilhelmine had selected for herreception-room; the old wooden floors had been polished till theyappeared to be the finest parquet; gilt chairs deeply cushioned, and alsoof that delicate yellow colour which the favourite loved, had beenbrought from Paris; a spinet with a beautifully painted case stood nearthe window; a quaint sixteenth-century stove which had been in the stateroom at the castle had been chosen by her as harmonising well with theyellow hangings, being made of light blue tiles. In an alcove, especiallyconstructed by grumbling, slow-handed Stuttgart workmen for the 'Duke'sWitch, ' was the pick of the ducal library. The court ladies heard withjealous rage, that the Grävenitzin had a dressing-room entirely panelledwith mirrors, that her bed was hung with light blue silk, that she had asilver bath surrounded by mirror screens. How had the MecklemburgFräulein learnt such things? they asked. How indeed, but in her inborngenius for luxury! The favourite's servants were magnificently attired inducal liveries. The lady had her own carriage with painted panels andyellow satin cushions. She gave rich entertainments, and the invitationswere coveted, of course, by the good people who were so horrified attheir hostess. The Duchess Johanna Elizabetha would not be present at acourt feast where the Grävenitz appeared? Very well! there _were_ nocourt feasts! All the gaiety of the autumn of 1706 and the winter of 1707took place at the Jägerhaus. The Duchess-mother, from her dower-house of Stetten, descendedperiodically upon Stuttgart, rated her son, condoled with JohannaElizabetha, and returned utterly unsuccessful to Stetten. Forstner's warning voice was never silent. Osiander failed to returnWilhelmine's salutation when she encountered him in the Lustgarten. Itwas open war between virtue and the Grävenitz. Stuttgart in the winter is a vastly different place to the smiling, gayStuttgart of spring and summer days, and Wilhelmine often wonderedwhither had vanished the charm, the delight of Southern Germany. Thatwinter there fell but little snow, a cruel black frost was over the wholevalley; sometimes the frost relaxed his iron grip, and then came torrentsof rain. The frost returned when the rain ceased, and taking the wetearth into his gaunt hands turned everything into dirty sheet ice. InWilhelmine's yellow room at the Jägerhaus the blue stove radiated apleasant warmth, and, if a feeble sunray struggled through the gloomy, leaden sky, the yellow hangings caught it like a lover, and seemed totreasure it, filling the whole room with a hint of spring sunshine. Inthe castle the Duchess sat in her sombre apartments which she had made asdull, as dreary, as charmless as herself. Eberhard Ludwig seldom visitedher, and she spent her time in cosseting the sickly Erbprinz, orbemoaning her fate to Madame de Stafforth. Slowly the winter left the land, but the spring that year was a meagrestarveling, niggardly of smiles. He seemed to have borrowed winter'sbreath, and the pale young leaves shuddered in the unfriendly blasts. Thefruit blossom struggled into a nipped existence, and fell like thin snowto the ground. An eerie spring, and men said there was a spell upon thecountry, and looked towards the Jägerhaus as they spoke. During the winter the French army under Maréchal Villars had againthreatened Wirtemberg. On a cheerless day towards the end of AprilEberhard Ludwig arrived as usual in the early morning to visit hisbeloved at the Jägerhaus. For several days she had noticed a cloud uponhis brow, he had answered her absently, and she knew instinctively thatthere was something on his mind, which he desired to tell her. Too wiseto question him, she watched him closely. When he entered the yellow-hungsalon that cheerless April morning, he greeted her almost coldly, andbegan to play roughly with his huge black wolf-hound, Mélac. This animalwas the Duke's constant companion--an extraordinarily sagacious beast, whom Wilhelmine declared to be a hater of dullness because he had everbeen surly towards Johanna Elizabetha. For the favourite the dog had amarked affection; he would lie near her with his large head resting onher foot, while his patient eyes looked up at her with that strange, unblinking gaze which is characteristic of the wolf-hound. There was something brutal in the way Eberhard Ludwig teased the dog thatmorning; he hurt the poor brute, pulling his short, sensitive ears, drawing Mélac roughly back then flinging him away. It was a cruel game, more like a combat between man and hound; and Mélac, good, generous beastthough he was, began to get angry. The Duke's hand had been scratched bythe dog's sharp teeth, and the wolf-hound tasting blood, grew ferocious. With a growl Mélac suddenly reared up on his hind legs and placed hisfront paws on the Duke's breast, his teeth bared in an ugly snarl. Eberhard Ludwig laughed, but the dog's fangs were dangerously near hisHighness's throat; and indeed it was no laughing matter, for awolf-hound, once his teeth are fastened in a man's throat, does not leavehis prey alive. It was a grim comedy. Wilhelmine rose from her chair nearthe window and came forward. 'Leave him to me!' shouted the Duke, at length aware of his danger. Hegripped Mélac by the ears and held the beast from him; but the hound wasthoroughly aroused, and Eberhard Ludwig felt that it was an unequalcontest in spite of his strength. Wilhelmine advanced fearlessly, and laying her hand upon the dog's head, she leaned round till she faced the snarling brute. 'What are you doing, Wilhelmine?' panted the Duke. 'For God's sake do notput your face so close to his teeth!' 'I know what I am doing, mon Prince, ' she said calmly. As at Güstrow, when Müller had attacked her, she now narrowed her lidsand forced her will into her eyes. Gradually she felt her mastery workingon Mélac; his jaws dropped, no longer fiercely baring the teeth but asthough he had run a long distance, the whole mouth became weak, the redtongue protruding. With a whine the dog fell, his front paws slippingfrom the Duke's shoulders. Shuddering, the great animal crouched on thefloor, his eyes still resting on Wilhelmine with an expression of abjectterror. 'Lie quiet, Mélac! There--good dog!' She stroked his head, and the houndfawned upon her, dragging himself round her feet, crawling, abased. Eberhard Ludwig caught her hand, and his own trembled a little. 'What anextraordinary thing! Did you put a spell upon Mélac? I have never seenhim thus cowed! Beloved, I believe I owe my life to you this morning, ' hesaid. Wilhelmine passed her hand across her eyes. 'So may all your enemies bedefeated!' she said, laughing. 'Could you make me tremble like that with your wonderful eyes?' he asked. He was fascinated, yet there was something terrible to him in thiswoman's power. 'Mon Prince, you are my master always, ' she returned; and the subtleflattery of being the avowed ruler of so potent a being delighted him, as it pleases all men, who are obviously slaves, to be called master bythe woman who controls them. 'Alas! but I am not the master of destiny, ' he said sadly, 'and I comethis morning to prove it. Wilhelmine, beloved, I must return to the army. We have information that Villars is to invade Wirtemberg once more, and Imust be with the forces. ' 'Is our happiness over then?' she queried. 'Ah! no, no, beloved of my life! You will wait for me here, I shallreturn in a few months. ' 'Months! Months of Stuttgart without you? Ah! Eberhard, you cannot askit!' She pleaded long, but for once the Duke was obdurate: he must go, hesaid; honour demanded it. On the day fixed for Eberhard Ludwig's departure there was much stir inStuttgart, and the people crowded the streets to show honour to theirDuke, whose popularity was suddenly reawakened by his reassumption of therôle of military hero. Johanna Elizabetha was to accompany the Duke outof the town; once again she was to be permitted to play her part as wifeand Duchess. Forstner had achieved this, with the help of Osiander, whowas to pronounce a blessing on the Duke and his body-guard on themarket-place ere they set forth. The Prelate declared he would refuse hisbenediction were the Duchess not accorded her fitting place in theceremony. Wilhelmine was enraged. It is hard for a woman to see anotherrecognised as the beloved's wife, besides she regarded this as a slightto herself. It was terrible to her, and she stormed and raged andreproached the Duke, demanding what was to be her place in the ceremony. Then, in tears, she caressed him. Of course, the Duke blamed Johanna Elizabetha for this scene. When do weever blame the right person for the disagreeable happenings of our lives? At length Serenissimus tore himself away from his mistress, carrying inhis heart her picture in her yellow, sunlit room, crying bitterly withface hidden in her hands. He hated tears, but Wilhelmine's weeping was sodifferent from that of other women, he reflected, as he wended his waythrough the gardens towards the castle to mount his charger and head theprocession to the market-place, and thence away to the French frontier. He had taken leave of Johanna Elizabetha that morning, for though she wasto assist in the ceremony of departure, he had granted her request for aprevious farewell in private. The Duchess had met him with tear-swollenlids, and had wept incessantly during the short interview. The poor soulhad shown her grief in a most unbecoming way; her mouth grimacedridiculously when she cried, 'like a squalling brat's, ' his Highness hadreflected bitterly. Ah! the difference when Wilhelmine wept--her head bowed down withsadness, her face hidden. It was so graceful, so poetic; of course thesecret was, that when she wept she hid her face. A really clever woman ofthe world would never show the grimace of sorrow: she may weep, but shehides her face, well knowing that a weeping woman is a hideous sight; butall this Eberhard Ludwig did not know. Meanwhile Wilhelmine sat in her yellow salon listening to the sounds fromthe market-place which floated to her across the gardens behind theJägerhaus. She heard the flare of trumpets which greeted the Duke, theroar of the enthusiastic people acclaiming their warlike sovereign; thenfollowed silence, Osiander must be pronouncing his benediction, shethought. Again a flourish of trumpets, men shouting, and then she heardthe grand hymn, 'Ein' Feste Burg ist unser Gott, ' sung by thousands ofvoices and brayed out by the brass instruments. The sound came nearer:she could hear the tramp of feet, the clatter of horses, the cries of thepeople. The musicians played a march: it seemed to Wilhelmine that itbecame more triumphant, more blatant, as the cortège passed near theJägerhaus; yet the boisterous military music held a note of pathos, something infinitely moving at this terrible farewell hour, and thelistening woman wept bitterly, and, God knows! she forgot to hide hersorrow-distorted mouth at that moment. * * * * * The days dragged on. May came cold and unfriendly, as April had been, andWilhelmine thought that all the warmth of the world must have departedwhen Eberhard Ludwig went to the frontier to do battle. The lilacs cameto a tardy bloom, and even on the cold ungenial air there floated adivine fragrance. News came from the Duke--dull news, all detail of theorganising and improvement of troops. Passionate words intermingled inthese letters to Wilhelmine, old faded yellow curiosities now. Madame deRuth, Zollern, and Stafforth often visited the favourite at theJägerhaus, and Wilhelmine's innate desire to please--that impulse whichmust ever belong to the 'charmeurs' and especially to the 'charmeuses' ofthe world--taught her to forget her sadness when she was with herfriends, and thus some brighter hours were passed. She sang, and if hersinging were more truthfully passionate and more sad than of yore, it wassurely love which had taught her greater depth. Only Madame de Ruth, theold courtesan, realised that not love but love's sadness had given thattone to the glorious voice; and Madame de Ruth looked at Zollern, hereyes full of tears, but Zollern leaned his chin on the mythologicallyornamented china handle of his stick and revelled in a thrill, a spark ofyouth's desire, which the younger woman's voice had rekindled. Men arepromiscuous to the end of their lives. Why blame them? God made them so. Towards the beginning of May, shortly after his Highness's departure, Madame de Ruth arrived one morning at the Jägerhaus brimming over withwords and gossip. 'Imagine, ma chère, ' she cried, as she rustled intoWilhelmine's yellow salon, 'Osiander is in disgrace with the Duchess! Iheard it was coming, but did not believe it. As you know, her Highnesshas given orders that, being in spiritual mourning in the absence of herdear spouse at the war, she will see none save her personal attendantsand Madame de Stafforth. Well, well, it is quite contrary to everyetiquette; but, indeed, the court of Stuttgart has ceased to existnowadays, and her Highness can do as she likes. ' 'Yes, yes; I know all that. Tell me what the news is!' broke inWilhelmine impatiently. The Duchess's entire seclusion was well known toher, she heard it discussed by her friends daily. 'Let me tell you my story in my own way, or I shall not tell it at all!Well, I live in the castle. '--'I know that too, ' said Wilhelmine, laughing. --'Certainly you do--I live in the castle, and really it isridiculous if I never see the Duchess, considering that I am her residentMaîtresse du Palais; so at last I wrote to the Duchess saying I begged anaudience, as really being of no use to her Highness I wished for leave ofabsence, but must crave a moment's conversation with her before I left. ' 'Are you going to leave?' said Wilhelmine anxiously. 'Jamais de la vie, ma chère! but I wanted to see the Duchess, and thiswas the only way. Well, she consented to see me, so I went to heryesterday evening, found her with la Stafforth sewing shirts for thepoor--very estimable! She was far from amiable to me; asked me if I meantto cease being Maîtresse du Palais, and become Dame de Déshonneur toFräulein von Grävenitz. Upon my word, I had not credited her with witenough for so cutting a saying; then I told her I should be obliged toresign, and had written to Serenissimus saying her Highness's refusals tosee me made my position ridiculous. She replied that I could do as Iwished, and just as I was preparing to take leave of her Highness, Osiander was announced. It amused me to hear, so I drew back into theshadow--you know the Duchess's rooms have always much shadow. Well, Osiander declared he had given his best attention to her Highness'sdemand, but regretted to be unable to accede to her request. The Duchessseemed much annoyed, and said that in this case she would invite thePietist to preach to her in the castle itself. Osiander told her thatthis, of course, was as her Highness willed, but that Pietists beingmembers of a sect not recognised by the State, he could not permit asermon to be preached in the Duke's chapel or in the Stiftskirche by atravelling Pietist preacher. The Duchess bowed to him in dismissal, andremarked that this Müller was a saint she had heard, and inspired byGod----' 'Müller?' cried Wilhelmine--'Müller? a preacher? Where does he comefrom?' 'My dear, that is just the strange thing. Of course, directly Osianderdeparted, I made my courtesy to her Highness--she didn't try to keep me, you may be sure!--and I hurried after the Prelate. I found him on thestairs in great distress, poor man, for it appears her Highness has triedto have some of these Pietists to preach in church before. She is filledwith curiosity, which she calls sympathy with the simple, stern religion;and this Müller, who goes about preaching, is now at Tübingen. LaStafforth heard about him from some servant, and has filled herHighness's head with foolish notions, amongst others, that he is sent byGod to console her! 'It appears, my dear, and this is the disagreeable part, that he preachesdirectly against you--naming you by name, and saying you are a walkingcontamination; that you are a witch, and that in Mecklemburg it was wellknown! He can vouch for it, as he was pastor at Güstrow before God calledhim--which means before he became a wandering Pietist preacher. All thisOsiander told me, and, to do him justice, he was horrified at the wholething and very angry with her Highness. I suppose Müller is a madman, afanatic; but, Wilhelmine, I think we had best journey to the Neuhaustogether and stay there till the Duke's return, for I do not trust thepeople here. There is a strong feeling against you, and if they are to bestirred up by this preaching rascal, it might really be disagreeable. 'She paused breathless. 'He is a terrible man, a devil, and I am convinced he has followed me toWirtemberg for revenge, ' said Wilhelmine; and then she told Madame deRuth of Müller's behaviour at Güstrow, and of how she had interrupted hissermon. Madame de Ruth laughed, though she was anxious and distressedthat this dangerous enemy was working against Wilhelmine in the Duke'sabsence, especially when she heard that Müller was a powerful preachergifted with the fanatic's vivid eloquence. 'One thing perplexes me, ' said the Grävenitz, 'why does Osiander opposethis man? Surely to harm me any means would be welcome!' 'Yes, doubtless!' replied Madame de Ruth, 'but of the two evils in theland he considers you the lesser; for you, my dear, are frankly of thedevil, and the Church can abhor you, but Pietism is a wolf in sheep'sclothing which might eat up the Church! All these Churchmen fear that thePietists should get hold of the people--above all, in this case, of theDuchess and her tiresome court. It is simply, as usual, one factionagainst the other. Though, of course, Osiander as a gentleman and ascholar is naturally opposed to ranting preachers and religionvulgarised. ' It was settled that Madame de Ruth and Wilhelmine were to start for theNeuhaus as soon as fitting arrangements could be made, and the Grävenitzlooked forward with pleasure to the quiet summer hours she would spendreading beneath the beech-trees of the Neuhaus garden. But Fate was toostrong for her; the very morning fixed for their departure Madame de Ruthslipped upon the castle staircase and broke her ankle. Wilhelmine was informed of the accident by Zollern, who was bothdistressed for the sake of his old friend's pain, and much disturbed thatthe projected departure could not take place, for he did not considerWilhelmine safe in Stuttgart. He knew that the feeling against herincreased each day, owing chiefly to the gossip concerning her witchpractices. It was her habit to read late at night, and the peoplebelieved she was occupied in brewing magic philters and composingincantations. They vowed they had seen two shadows on her window-blinds, which of a truth they may have seen, for often old Frau Hazzim came tovisit her secretly at night. The Jewess was entirely under the spell ofWilhelmine's attraction, and the Grävenitz was learning many things fromher nocturnal visitor, who had a vast knowledge of herbs and medicaments, the traditional code of doctoring handed down in her family. StrictJewess though she was, she had many receipts for love potions, and sheknew much of various poisons. Thus the Stuttgarters were not mistakenwhen they averred they had seen a second shadow on the blind, andconsidering Frau Hazzim's grotesque features, it is hardly surprisingthat the superstitious and fearful observers believed that this secondshadow was the witch's familiar spirit. Wilhelmine's servants were questioned at the market, and they repliedthat their mistress received no visitors in the dead of night, forWilhelmine was naturally careful that even her servants should not beaware of Frau Hazzim's visits, which, considering the ill fame of theJews in those days, was absolutely necessary. She therefore was wontherself to admit her visitor by a small door which opened on to thegarden at the back of the Jägerhaus. So the terrified, fascinatedwatchers saw, with horror, this mysterious second shadow on the closedblind, and it was said that by incantations the witch summoned this evilbeing, for her own servants must know had any person from the mortalworld been in the house! Of this story Zollern was not aware, but he knew enough to recognise thedangerous reputation which his friend enjoyed. Wilhelmine herself wasperfectly conscious that there was an element of danger for her, and shewas disturbed that by Madame de Ruth's untoward accident she was obligedto remain in Stuttgart. That she was a reputed witch she knew, but farfrom being alarmed she was slightly flattered and amused at the notion, and deeming herself secure in the Duke's powerful protection she had nofear of any serious annoyance. Her only apprehension was that somemurderous attack might be made upon her when she drove out, so sheremained more than ever secluded and hidden in the Jägerhaus and thewalled-in Lustgarten, her one amusement being Frau Hazzim's nightlyvisits. Wilhelmine was half dupe of her own magical practices, and she wasarduous in her studies of old black-letter books on the subject ofspirit-raising, love potions, spells, and the rest of those meddlingswith the unknown forces which have fascinated mankind for countless agesunder various forms. Towards the end of May the weather changed, and sultry heat reigned overWirtemberg. Stuttgart lies deep in a valley, sheltered by hills, and theheat in the town is often terrible. The sudden change from the chillspring to glowing summer was unbearable to Wilhelmine, immured in theJägerhaus, and she longed for the cool freshness of the Rothwald whereshe had been accustomed to drive, but Zollern so strongly advised her notto show herself in the town, that she consented to forego this pleasurewhile Müller was in Stuttgart. He had preached before the Duchess, uponwhom his passionate eloquence, the Biblical turn of his phrases, and hisdenunciations of all things joyful, had made a deep and pleasingimpression. She caused the Pietist to visit her daily and instruct herin the stern belief. Müller told her Highness the story of hisconversion: how he had been a worldly, but he hoped a pure, pastor of theState religion; how that an evil and lustful woman had sought to seducehim, and he mentioned Güstrow as the place where his temptation had beenoffered him. The stroke told: her Highness started visibly. He continuedby indicating that this abandoned woman was a witch, and finally let theDuchess understand that, having triumphantly resisted the temptress'ssinful wiles, he had sought and found strength in the Pietist movement. Even a slower intellect than that of Johanna Elizabetha could not havefailed to associate Wilhelmine von Grävenitz with the temptress ofGüstrow; and when in answer to her Highness's query, whether the evilwoman had been punished for her wickedness, Müller threw himself at theDuchess's feet and told her openly that the contaminating female was theGrävenitz, whom he had followed from Güstrow--he, the poor instrument ofGod's righteous wrath, her Highness indeed felt that here was thevengeance of the Almighty coming upon her enemy. Müller was sincereenough in his abhorrence of the woman who had resisted and then insultedhim. The fanatical practices of the Pietists had inflamed his mind, andhe really believed God had chosen him to humble the wanton. Old Frau vonGrävenitz had talked freely of the favours and honours showered upon herdaughter at Stuttgart, and Müller's mad physical jealousy was aroused, for he at once realised that Wilhelmine had become Eberhard Ludwig'smistress. This, together with his fierce fanatical Pietism, had sufficedto turn the man's brain. Thus mixed and contending motives, as is sooften the case, formed a fixed and single purpose, and Müller hadpreached his way to Stuttgart, where he meant to accomplish his object ofvengeance upon Wilhelmine or die in the attempt. He knew that to gain anextensive hearing from the crowd in Stuttgart he must earn a reputationas preacher in the neighbourhood, so he began his campaign by lecturingin the open air at many towns and villages of Wirtemberg. Pietism wasrife all over the country, and the preacher was received with enthusiasm, and his fame, as we have seen, spread rapidly, even reaching at lengththe Duchess. Müller had never dreamed of gaining so great a personage asher Highness, and he was astounded when he received her command to preachat the castle; but this gave him renewed confidence in himself, and itseemed to his half-crazy mind to be a confirmation of his divine missionof revenge on the sinful. At present he had formed no definite plan as tohow his vengeance was to be accomplished; he merely meant, if possible, to inflame public opinion against Wilhelmine to such an extent as tocause her to be driven from Wirtemberg. With unfailing energy Müllerpreached sometimes four or five sermons daily, whenever and wherever hemanaged to attract a crowd. At first he contented himself withpronouncing violent diatribes against sin: the term conveyed to him onlyone species of human weakness, and all his sermons were on the subject ofbodily lust. He had named Wilhelmine 'a sinner, an instigator ofwickedness, ' at Tübingen, and he had quickly noted the approval on hishearers' faces. Now in Stuttgart he went further, and actually accusedher of witchcraft as well. His zeal grew, each day increased by his ownwords, till he preached openly a religious crusade against her. Osiander, informed of these sayings, caused him to be warned that the Church couldnot countenance a religious preacher who thus instigated the people torevolutionary acts. The better sort of Pietists--sober burghers, for themost part--deserted their idol, and his congregations were now chieflycomposed of the worst characters of the town. It certainly wasunfortunate that the Grävenitz had been unable to seek the shelter ofNeuhaus, yet Zollern and Stafforth reflected there could be little actualdanger if she remained at the Jägerhaus, only taking the air in thewalled-in Lustgarten; but they urged her not to venture out of thisshelter for a few weeks, after the expiration of which time they arguedthe popular excitement would have died out, or if it had not, they wouldmake arrangements for her residence in some safe place across thefrontier of Switzerland. Neuhaus they considered to be too near toTübingen, where, they heard, there was much hostility against Wilhelmine. Meanwhile each day the heat became more intense, and the Favourite grewmore impatient of being forbidden to drive out. One evening, as she satdisconsolately in her salon, a faint, fresh breeze floated in through theopen window. It was fragrant and delightful after the long, stiflinghours, and it seemed to her like an invitation from the outer world, thatworld of tree and flower for which she yearned. How she longed to driveaway out of the reeking, low-lying town, and wander in the cool Red Wood!Still the Lustgarten was a resource, and its quaint sixteenth- andseventeenth-century embellishments delighted her. She rose, and taking alace mantilla, arranged it round her head. She passed out of the smalldoor at the back of the Jägerhaus, and strolled slowly along in thedirection of the grotto. As she passed the gates leading from the gardento the high-road, she called to the sentry, telling him that shouldMonseigneur de Zollern seek her before she returned, he should beinformed that she had gone to the Duke Christopher's Grotto. At first thesoldier pretended not to hear, and the Grävenitz was obliged to approachhim and give her message. She asked, angrily, if he was deaf, and was informed in the usual peasantidiom that he 'could hear as well as another. ' 'Well, give my message to any one who inquires for me, ' she saidhaughtily, and walked on. The man frowned evilly at her, and she recollected that the maid Maria, once when she had accompanied her mistress on a stroll in the Lustgarten, and they had passed the same sentry, had told her that he was the loverof Johanna Elizabetha's waiting-maid, the woman who had always been soinsolent to Wilhelmine at the castle. 'He would do me harm, that lout, ifhe could, ' Wilhelmine reflected as she walked on, and the man's frowningface haunted her for a time, but soon the freshness of the evening breezeand the garden's beauty drove all unquiet thoughts from her mind. She wandered slowly through the trees of the pheasant garden, pausing amoment to look at the gorgeous plumage of the birds in their gildedcages. Then she came to the rosery shut off from the rest of the gardenby tall beech-trees, where splashed the fountain near the marble seat onwhich the lovers had sat together after the theatricals, and whereEberhard Ludwig had agonised when she was hidden in the Judengasse. Shepassed the new Lusthaus, and looked up with a sigh at the balcony whereSerenissimus and she had stood together, and he had told her Forstnercalled him a ridiculous poet fellow, because he loved the starlit woodsat night. She came to the famous fourteenth-century maze, where thecypress-trees had grown so high and dense that it was really a place tolose oneself in, did one not possess the clue to the intricate windings. She walked outside the maze, breathing in the fragrance of the sun-kissedcypress, and turned into the orangery, and here she lingered a while inthe alleys of formally cut trees. Then she walked on, and finally gainedthe wilderness which surrounded the famous grotto; this was a longconstruction of rocks and shells, very quaint, no doubt, in the days whenit was built, yet Time had further enchanted it, adding melancholy andmystery to the half-ruined place. There was a deep, stagnant tank beforethe grotto, covered with weeds and growing things. In the centre of thistank, among lusty nymphs and playful dolphins, a huge Triton sat on hisrocky throne, and from his trident a few drops of water still oozedslowly. The elaborate waterworks and strange devices could not be quite unhinged, Wilhelmine reflected idly. She recollected how Eberhard Ludwig had shownher the grotto's marvellous springs and tricks; she recalled how, aftermuch heaving and turning at an iron lever, the whole grotto had suddenlybeen converted into a place of living waters. She wondered if the workswere still more rusty now; how sad a waste that this curious old-worldpleasantry should be allowed to rust to destruction. Wilhelmine fell intoa dream: if she were Duchess, she would have the grotto repaired, notTime's handiwork disturbed; the ferns, the lichen, the twining ivy shouldremain; the wilderness should not be formalised; only the waterworksshould be renewed, and the old devices made perfect. There should bewater-fêtes by moonlight, with lamps shimmering through the playingfountains, and music, faint and fitful, from unseen players. And shewould be mistress of all this. She was resting on a moss-grown seat, and the gentle breeze played overher brow. She almost slept for a moment. What was that? A discordantnote smote disagreeably on her hearing. Why must the canaille make sohideous a noise when it amuses itself? she reflected; probably someridiculous popular jaunt, some people's gathering. Her lip curledcontemptuously. Were she Duchess she would teach the canaille what wasfitting for it! Again the sound disturbed her; it seemed to be coming nearer--probablyalong the Bergstrasse from Cannstatt. What could it be? She could hearthe hoarse roar of many voices; it was terrifying somehow. She sprang up. God in Heaven! could it be a mob incited by Müller to stone her house?But no, the sound was not in that direction; surely it came from beyondthe eastern wall of the Lustgarten. Impossible! But it sounded as thoughthe crowd made its way towards the grotto. The sound increased eachbreathless moment; she could hear some of the rabble singing hymns. Toher horror she realised that they must have passed the Lustgarten walls, that they were actually nearing her. Could she gain the shelter of theJägerhaus? She had a vision of a pursuit through the gardens. No! shemust hide--the mob must go past her, that was her only hope. Instincttold her that she was the crowd's quarry. Hide? But where? Ah, thegrotto. She fled round the water-tank and gained the humid darkness ofthe grotto. She rushed on, her feet slipping on the slimy stones of theentrance-chamber. If she could only gain the higher gallery she mighthide in some dark corner. Ah! here were the steps. She clambered up; theyelling crowd must be close behind now, for she could hear their words:'Rat out the witch!' 'Death to the sinner!' 'Die Hexe! die verdammteHexe!'--then some coarse witticisms shouted in Swabian dialect, rudelaughter, whoops and curses, groans and whistles, all a mob's animal-likeejaculations. The Grävenitz shuddered. Would they pass her? They were beneath thegrotto now; she could hear their words distinctly: 'To the grotto! thegrotto! the witch is there! He told us she was going there!' MercifulHeaven! they knew then--the sentry had told them! The Grävenitz felt thatall was lost now. They _must_ find her. She crouched down against thewall. Listen! What was that? 'The grotto is haunted; the white lady walksthere, ' some one said. They hesitated. She knew no one had entered thegrotto yet. 'Nothing worse than a little water haunts the place, comrades, ' she heard a voice say, then laughter. A little water? What hadEberhard Ludwig said? 'One might stand a siege here if one turned thewaters on from inside; I don't believe anything but a sea-serpent couldenter!'--idle words spoken in jest. Was there a chance left? If she couldfind the lever--but it would not turn--the hinges must be locked withrust. She was seeking wildly along the wall now, her hands rasped andbleeding with scraping against the rough surface. She remembered EberhardLudwig had said, 'The trick of it is on the left side of this gallery. 'How the words came back to her!--the left side. Yes! But which was theleft side of the grotto? She had lost her bearings in the darkness. Ah, could this be it? She grasped it with both hands; it gave slightly; shewrenched at it, throwing all her weight against it. It resisted, and shefelt as though her spine must crack with the immense strain; the veins ofher temples seemed bursting, the tips of her fingers as though the bloodmust gush out. Still the heavy, rusty iron bar only gave a little. Shecould hear the noise outside, but it sounded faint to her, for her entirebodily power was concentrated, and her ears only registered the surgingof her own blood. With a sudden wrench the bar flew round in her hands, and she fell forward on her knees, flung with her own impetus. Would theaged mechanism respond? Was there more rust on the inner wheels andsprings? Ah! she could hear a gurgling and a whirling of wheels. Yes!there came the water; she heard the trickle, the splashing; then thewhole grotto seemed alive. She ran to a broken place in the outer wall ofthe shell-and-stucco building; she crumbled off a shell which impeded hervision. Now she could see the mob below, though the rushing of the waterdeadened the voices, and she could not distinguish the words. She saw twomen come tumbling out of the grotto, drenched and dripping objects. Shesaw them gesticulating wildly, and guessed that they were describingtheir reception in the water-cave. Even through the noise of the watershe heard a roar of laughter go up from those who had not penetrated thegrotto. The crowd's humour seemed changed; the men were no longer fierce, they were amused, laughing. All crowds are curiously fickle, easilyaroused, easily appeased, and the Swabian especially loves to beoverreached by a joke. She saw that the mob's attention was diverted fromher, and she knew that the danger was passed for the moment. Would Zollern have been to the Jägerhaus, have heard the shouting, realised, and called out the guard to rescue her? Would the waterworksfail and the rabble catch her, after all? Or would the people growbolder, face the water, and hunt her out of her hiding-place? Shelistened intently, but even if a detachment of cavalry had been on theway, she could have heard nothing save the noisy merriment below her andthe splashing water in the cave. Was that a sword-blade flashing in thedistance? Yes, thank God! she could see the outer rows of rioters lookinganxiously towards where she had seen the glint of steel through thetrees. The crowd suddenly dispersed for the most part, men ran hither andthither aimlessly, but a knot of several hundreds remained together, grown hostile again at the approach of hostility. Sitting stiffly on hishorse was Zollern, riding at the head of the cavalry beside the captainof the Silver Guard. Monsieur de Zollern reined in his horse before themob, commanding silence with a wave of his hand. The crowd toned down, though there were still a few angry murmurs. 'What do you in his Highness's Lustgarten?' said Zollern in a stern, clear voice, strangely unlike his usual quiet and courtly tones. Aconfused murmur ran through the crowd. 'Answer, or we shall ride youdown, ' he said. A few voices responded sullenly: 'We seek a witch, ' and again an ominousgrowl went up from the crowd. 'Learn that the Duke's Lustgarten is no place for you to seek a witch, 'thundered the old man. 'There are no witches here or in any of hisHighness's domains. And if you dare to molest a friend of the Duke's, youshall be massacred without mercy! I give you time to remove yourselvesfrom this garden, while I count ten; one, two, ' he counted. At the word'ten' the guard charged upon the wavering mass of humanity, which fledbefore the troopers' swords. 'Y êtes-vous vraiment, Mademoiselle?' he called, but the Grävenitz fromthe gallery's higher level could see that the mob was not yet entirelydriven from the garden, and she dared not reply. Zollern guessed that were she in truth hidden in the grotto, she wouldprefer to postpone her exit until she could appear without being seen bythe soldiers, who were returning from chasing the intruders. When thecaptain of the guard rode up to Zollern he requested him to withdraw hismen, adding that it was unprecedented insolence for the rabble to havedared to break into his Highness's Lustgarten. It struck the old courtierthat the captain's answer was but half-hearted. Was even the guardinfected with hostility against the Grävenitz? 'The insolence to dare seek a witch here!' said Zollern, scrutinising thecaptain's face closely. 'Witchcraft should be punished wherever it hides, Monseigneur, ' returnedthe captain gravely. 'Yes, indeed, if it _exists_, M. Le Capitaine, ' replied Zollern; 'but Ibeg you draw off your men; I will remain here and rest. ' At this moment Zollern realised that the Grävenitz must be conveyed outof the country immediately; the guard itself was not trustworthy whereshe was concerned. He watched the soldiers till they passed out of sight, and then he reapproached the grotto. 'Answer me now if you are indeed there, Mademoiselle; I am alone, ' hecalled, and he heard Wilhelmine's voice from within, but owing to therushing waters her words were indistinguishable. Meanwhile Wilhelmine was struggling to draw back the lever, for she couldnot leave the grotto before the water subsided. It was no easy matter toturn the heavy bar, though the resistance was not so great as when shehad turned on the defending streams, still it lasted several minutes ereshe accomplished her task and heard the splashing and gurgling of thewater subside. Thus Zollern concluded he had been mistaken when he hadfancied he heard her voice within, and when Wilhelmine reached thedoorway of the grotto he was preparing to depart. She called him softly: 'Oh, my friend, help me home, ' and there was atone of appeal in her voice. Zollern came to her quickly, and raising hertorn and bleeding hands to his lips, kissed them tenderly. 'Guard me, protect me, Monseigneur. I am very lonely, ' she said. 'Until death takes me I will be your friend, ' he replied, and Madame deRuth would have suffered a jealous pang had she heard. With a feeling of unreality, as though she were just awakened from anevil dream, Wilhelmine found herself once more in her pretty yellow-hungsaloon. Maria, the maid, kneeled beside her, bathing the wounds in herpalms made by the rough surface of the grotto walls. Slime from themoss-grown stones was on Wilhelmine's dress, and deep red marks of rustfrom the waterworks' lever had stained the breast of her gown where shehad pressed on the bar. Zollern stood before her. He was urging her immediate departure fromStuttgart; the place was unsafe for her in the Duke's absence, heaverred. The Grävenitz responded wearily. She was willing todepart--indeed it was impossible for her to remain--but whither? Güstrow?Zollern reflected. He owned a small castle at Schaffhausen inSwitzerland, and he begged her to accept it as a refuge. 'And I prayyou, ' he added, 'keep it always if it pleases you; we never know when ahumble refuge may not be welcome. ' And so it was decided that Wilhelminewas to depart immediately, accompanied to the frontier by a hundredguards commanded by a certain Captain Schrader, whom Zollern knew hecould trust, because this officer was anxious to make his way at court bypleasing the Duke. The dawn was breaking through the deep blue of the night sky whenWilhelmine started on her journey to Schaffhausen. The cavalcade rattleddown the Graben, Wilhelmine's heavy coach in the midst of the famousSilver Guard. They passed out of the town-gate and gained the opencountry, where the fields sent forth a fragrant breath, and the woodswere pungent, sweet, and fresh from the cool night. It remindedWilhelmine of that May morning a twelvemonth since, when she had enteredWirtemberg, and yet, though Nature smiled then as on that day, howdifferent it had seemed to her. Then everything had been radiant withSpring happiness, and her heart had responded gladly, though she was buta solitary stranger venturing into an unknown country. Now she felt halfangry with the woods and fields for their peaceful joyousness, and hersoul gave forth no answering note of gladness, though she rode at ease ina fine coach surrounded by a brilliant escort as though she were a queen. Her thoughts were bitter, poisoned with disgust, for she realised that, in spite of her great prosperity, she was in truth a fugitive before 'lacanaille, ' and, as she journeyed, she took no pleasure in the graciousloveliness around her. Her mind was busy with plans for revenge upon thebrutal mob and the hostile burghers who thus drove her forth, and shevowed to herself that her enemies should repent their insolence, that thecanaille should weep tears of blood and tremble before her they hadinsulted. CHAPTER XI THE MOCK MARRIAGE MARÉCHAL LE DUC DE VILLARS was no brilliant, victorious hero, judged bythe standard of a century which had seen such military geniuses asTurenne, as the great Condé, as Marlborough and Eugene of Savoy. Villarswas essentially a wily tactician, and his exploits were useful, but helacked the dash, the verve which characterise the great commanders ofthat epoch. It was his system to overrun an invaded country, skilfullyavoiding actual combat with the defending army, which pursued himimpotently along the ghastly trail of ravage. Thus Villars, with no lossto his troops, spread famine through the land, for he plundered anddevastated wherever he passed. He conducted the brief invasion ofWirtemberg in 1707 on these lines. Crossing the Rhine during the night ofMay 21st, he plunged unopposed into the very heart of the Swabian land. Eberhard Ludwig, who, along with the Elector of Hanover, commanded oneportion of the Imperial army, executed a turning movement mighty like aretreat, but Villars had so overpowering a majority of men that an attackupon their united strength would have been more than hazardous. Thus thewhole country lay at the Frenchmen's mercy, and they swarmed over town, village, and farm, harrying, burning, pillaging, and always disappearingere the would-be defenders came up. Eberhard Ludwig followed hotly, hoping to engage separate columns of the huge army, but it was too late, and after a futile pursuit round the entire country, he had the chagrinof seeing the French enter Stuttgart. Here Villars remained but a fewdays. Wilhelmine said afterwards that 'l'ennui de Stuttgard' had proved agreater defence than the entire Imperial army! Be this as it may, Villarsevacuated Stuttgart in an amazingly short time, and retired eastwards tothe ancient town of Schorndorf. Now the Duchess-mother emerged from herdower-house at Stetten, and craved a meeting with the Duc de Villars, who, as a gentleman, could not refuse the ancient dame's request. There is a popular tradition that they met in a field between Schorndorfand Stetten, neither being willing to accept the hospitality of theother, and that here they discussed and settled the terms of theevacuation of Wirtemberg and the sum of the indemnity, all of which wasafterwards solemnly ratified by the Geheimraths of Stuttgart, who, willingly, permitted the Duchess-mother to bear nearly the entire cost ofthe indemnity, a matter of some two hundred thousand gulden. Villars, upon payment of this sum, half of which he is reported by Germanhistorians to have retained for his own uses, now left Wirtemberg, andmarched towards the French frontier, leaving, however, six thousand menunder General Vivant in the country. The Imperial army under command of the Elector of Hanover was atHeilbronn in Wirtemberg, a mediæval Imperial free town. Eberhard Ludwig, in command of the Wirtemberg contingent, was with the army. His Highnesshad taken up his quarters in the ancient Abbey of Maulbronn, betweenwhich and Heilbronn spread the encampment of the Imperial army. EberhardLudwig had chosen Maulbronn for his quarters, thinking that the peace ofthe Monastery, with its shadowy, highly vaulted cloisters, and itsold-world garden, might soothe the restlessness which had devoured hisbeing since his absence from Wilhelmine. In Maulbronn's garden stands thehaunted tower where legend says that Doctor Faustus, the frenziedsearcher for the elixir of eternal life, bartered his soul to Satan inreturn for a span of youth and love. The Faust tower faces the greatcloister, and they say the Doctor, when sealing his pact with the devil, was disturbed by the monks' chanting. Eberhard Ludwig revelled in the garden and its fantastic legends, but hisyearning for Wilhelmine only grew the stronger. Why was she not with himto dream in the cool silence of the cloister? How she would love thegarden with its luxuriance of old-world flowers--the fragrant rosesplanted by some long-dead monk--the huge tree-peonies. The very breezesseemed legend-laden. Wilhelmine! beloved! It was a futile thing indeedfor this poet-prince to endeavour to forget the woman he loved! In agarden so wondrous beautiful, in this place of dreaming, he could butdream the more. So, when the news came that Villars had retired, hisHighness decided he must follow Wilhelmine to Switzerland forthwith. Forstner was summoned, and the Wirtemberg troops placed under hiscommand. Of course he protested he was not efficient, but, as usual, Eberhard Ludwig the impetuous overruled him. The news of his Highness's departure caused angry consternation inStuttgart. Johanna Elizabetha wept, but the Duchess-mother raged. She hadfancied that her son, deeply obliged to her for her generous action ofthe war indemnity, would listen to her reasonable voice as a reward. 'Ridiculous!' _he_ argued. 'I never asked her to pay the indemnity; ifshe chooses to do so, well and good, but it does not bind me toobedience. ' There is a pathetic letter from the Duchess-mother to her son, adignified epistle with a very human postscriptum, wherein bubbles over amother's hatred for her son's seducer, the honest woman's furious disdainof the triumphant charm of an adventuress. 'MON FILS, --Si j'ai délivré le pays du fléau françois j'attends que vous délivriez la Cour du fléau de votre péché. Revenez à Stuttgard et faites votre devoir de mari, de père, de fils et de Prince Chrétien. Vous redonnerez la paix à votre mère, 'MAGDALÈNE SYBILLE, PRINCESSE DE HESSE DARMSTADT, 'DUCHESSE DOUAIRIÈRE DE WIRTEMBERG. 'Cette Grävenitz est une p----! J'aurois des preuves si je voulois les donner; je vous prie de me croire qu'elle ne mérite pas votre faveur!' Possibly, had the Duchess-mother denied herself the satisfaction ofwriting this postscriptum, Eberhard Ludwig might indeed have returned toStuttgart for a time, and who can tell how a man's fancy may vary in afew months? But being a lover and a chivalrous gentleman, theunfortunate paragraph roused him to a white heat of championship for hismistress. What! she 'une p----?' Ah! how evil was the world! No man, and, above all, no woman, could understand Wilhelmine. She was grosslymisjudged, cruelly persecuted. Thus, when he read this letter from hismother (which reached him when he was starting for Switzerland), he onlyshrugged his shoulders angrily, and crushing the missive into his saddleholster, spurred his horse forward, and galloped southward to thecalumniated lady of his heart. Wilhelmine had passed a solitary two months at Schaffhausen. Zollern'scastle stood on the left bank of the Rhine, overlooking the greatwaterfall, whose delicious thunder had soothed her to calmer thoughts. She passed the long hours in reading and making music, and the peacefuldays had added brilliancy to her splendid healthfulness. Thus, whenEberhard Ludwig came to Schaffhausen, he found her an even more forceful, vital, fresh-skinned woman than had been the beautiful girl he left atStuttgart. She met him with passionate happiness, and for a few days theirintercourse was a prolonged rhapsody of the senses. At length, however, their dream was broken by the unwelcome advent of a messenger withdespatches from Vienna to Field-Marshal of the Imperial Army, Commanderof the Swabian Army Corps, Monseigneur le Duc de Wirtemberg. His Highnesswas furious, also anxious. Why had the fool Forstner not attended tothese despatches? They were important commands concerning the army, andneeded immediate attention, and now, having been all the way toHeilbronn, here they were sent to Switzerland! His Highness fumed, cursedForstner; it was exceedingly awkward, orders from Vienna, and EberhardLudwig in Switzerland. He had given full power to Forstner to transactall business in his name. 'Of course, a plot, ' said Wilhelmine, 'a plot to separate us again!' His Highness was anxious, but she soothed him as usual, and he sent thedespatches back with orders to Forstner to attend to the business. Peaceagain for a day or so, then Forstner arrived at Schaffhausen. 'Why in hell's name do you follow me, M. De Forstner?' was the Duke'sgreeting. 'I come because it is my duty, Monseigneur!' 'Your duty? Let me remind you that your duty lies where I left you--withthe army. But now that you have come, kindly tell me your errand. ' It washarshly said, and Forstner was deeply wounded. Could this be the noble, courteous prince he had served for many years, the friend of hischildhood, the gallant companion in arms? Poor Forstner, he had yet todiscover that the tiresome friend is always ill-treated eventually. 'My errand, Monseigneur, will be unwelcome to you, I know, for I havecome to urge you to return to the army immediately. The Elector ofHanover is furious at your Highness's sudden departure. He says openlythat it is contrary to both military discipline and, I regret, monPrince, to honour. He says if all his generals permitted themselves torun after their mistresses when it suited them, the army would be in aparlous state. ' Indeed the Elector of Hanover had expressed himself inless measured words. 'I am a Prince commanding my own troops allied with the Imperial army, and I am at liberty to go and come without permission from M. L'Electeur, ' said Eberhard Ludwig haughtily. 'I implore your Highness to listen to reason, ' cried Forstner; 'you arejeopardising your reputation as a soldier for the sake of a ----' The epithet he used was forcible, and Eberhard Ludwig started forwardangrily. 'Yes, it is the task of a true friend to speak the truth without reserve'(alas, Forstner!), 'and Mademoiselle de Grävenitz is an abandoned woman. 'As he uttered these words Wilhelmine entered the apartment. 'Mon Prince, is it thus you permit your friends to speak of me?' she saidin a low voice. 'A thousand times no!' cried his Highness. 'Forstner, you leave myservice for ever. Go!' He pointed dramatically to the door, but Forstnerhad not concluded his peroration, and he had no intention of beingsilenced this time; he was a diligent, persistent friend, poor soul. 'Mademoiselle de Grävenitz, I appeal to you; his Highness is playing aridiculous rôle in the sight of Europe! Give him up, send him back toduty, to honour, to his great military career!' 'Monsieur, you come here to dictate to his Highness, it seems! Since whenis that your right?' She spoke sneeringly, and Eberhard Ludwig felt thather taunt was directed in part at himself. She did not deem him capableof resisting Forstner, perhaps? she considered him as a being whoseconduct could be dictated. 'I know my duty, sir, ' he said; 'you have no need to teach it me. ' 'Indeed, Monseigneur, you have forgotten it since yonder lady's advent!'Forstner was getting beyond himself. 'I have not forgotten how to defend from insult the lady whom I love andhonour, ' said Eberhard Ludwig coldly, 'and I request you, Forstner, towithdraw immediately. ' 'Mademoiselle de Grävenitz, you have ruined his Highness!' shoutedForstner; 'he is untrue to all his vows: you are a ----'; but his wordsare unrepeatable, even Wilhelmine shrank back. Eberhard Ludwig drew hissword and forced his over-zealous friend through the door. A moment afterwards his Highness returned and, flinging himself upon hisknees before the Grävenitz, poured forth a torrent of adoring words, butthe lady remained impervious to his pleading. 'I cannot suffer such treatment, ' she answered; 'I can but beg yourHighness to depart from me for ever. I shall reside here, drag out asolitary existence in this refuge which my friend Monseigneur de Zollernhas given me! Your Highness cannot defend me from insult, and I do notchoose to be flaunted as a wanton. ' 'Alas, what can I do? I will give you all, but I have not the power tolegalise your position. ' 'So I see, Monseigneur, and therefore I beg you to depart. ' 'Wilhelmine, do you love me? Alas! alas!' 'I love you, mon Prince, but these taunts are unbearable. I have no oneto protect me--you cannot, for you yourself are the cause of all theindignities heaped upon me. ' 'Ah, would that I could make you Duchess, my wife, safe from insult!' 'You dare not, though other princes have had the courage thus to shieldthose they loved. ' 'I dare not? I? God! who shall tell me that I dare not?' he cried. 'You dare not, ' she answered, and again as she swept from the room, overher shoulder she flung scornfully: 'You dare not!' * * * * * In the panelled living-room of the Neuhaus, on the morning of the 29thJuly 1707, Madame de Ruth and her peasant servant were busying themselveswith a large table and a heap of silken hangings. The lady was drapingthe table with these, and her efforts had caused her highly piled-uphead-dress to become deranged; the elaborate structure leaned on one sideand scattered a shower of powder over Madame de Ruth's shoulders. Theservant interrupted his work of hammering nails into the draped silk onthe table; he stared at his mistress and grinned. 'Go on, stupid head, and never mind an old woman's hairdress, ' she said good-humouredly. 'Ishall be fine enough this afternoon, and so wilt thou, for I shall givethee a new coat. ' She rose from her knees and surveyed her handiwork. Taking a large bowl filled with roses, she placed it upon the table, thenshe went to a cupboard and began to hunt through its varied contents. Shesought a Bible, and indeed it was the first time in her life that she hadsearched the Scriptures, as she reflected grimly. She had a dimrecollection of having seen a worn Bible consorting oddly with the otherbooks in that cupboard. After some time she found the Bible and placed itupon the silk-draped table. She stood a moment absent-mindedly, gazingfrom the window at the sunlight playing through the delicate tracery inthe beech branches without, her hands mechanically turning over theleaves of the Bible. Suddenly her fingers touched something between thepages, something that crumbled away beneath her touch, a withered flower, the faded, brittle ghost of some vanished summer day. She drew away herhand quickly as though the flower stung her. It had conjured up thelong-past loss and sorrow of a day when she had given birth to a childand Death came hurrying to gather the little life. Madame de Ruthremembered how eagerly she had read in the Book of Life during the sadhours of her recovery, seeking wildly, miserably for consolation, and sherecalled how the kind old peasant woman, who nursed and mourned with herfor the baby's loss, had brought her a flower which bloomed near thepiteously small mound beneath which the little one slept for ever. AndMadame de Ruth had laid the blossom tenderly between the Bible's pages, and now, after long years of forgetful gaiety and dissipation, theyearning, unsatisfied motherhood welled up in her heart and she weptagain. * * * * * Once more we are in the panelled room at Neuhaus, and again is assembledthe company which on that portentous November evening of the precedingyear had discussed the plan of summoning Wilhelmine von Grävenitz, shewho was to be their tool in an ordinary court intrigue. Madame de Ruth, the hostess; Monseigneur de Zollern; Friedrich Grävenitz, since a fewdays become Count of the Empire; Marie Grävenitz, his bigoted Catholicwife; Monsieur the Hofmarshal Stafforth. 'It is madness, rank lunacy!' Stafforth was saying vehemently. 'Illegaland impossible, it will spell disgrace and misfortune to us all. TheEmperor will interfere, for this is going too far. We must hinder thisfarcical ceremony; his Highness cannot marry two wives! It will beMömpelgard over again! Think how absurd, Grävenitz! Cannot you see thatthis farce is bigamy?' Count Grävenitz held his hands over his brow. 'I agree with you, Monsieurde Stafforth. My sister goes too far. It is very hard on me; I advisedher to be satisfied with a settled annuity, and to live peacefully withme, her brother, the head of her house. His Highness can always visither--a great honour indeed----' He broke off, seeing the sneer onMonseigneur de Zollern's face. 'I wash my hands of the whole affair!' cried Grävenitz distractedly. 'Ce cher Pilate, ' murmured Zollern. Madame de Ruth laughed. 'Grävenitz, your sister will be Duchess, never fear! Marie, she willbefriend the Holy Church in Wirtemberg. ' Madame de Ruth addressed herselfto Marie Grävenitz, but it was Zollern whom she observed as she spoke. 'Stafforth, you will become a Count; and for myself, I shall see the lastof her Dull Highness from Baden. That is _my_ reward. ' She laughed, butno responsive gaiety came from the rest of the company. Indeed, theintrigue had assumed proportions which alarmed Wilhelmine's allies. Herbrother had learned to fear her--he was jealous of her now. Stafforth, having been foolish enough to incur her displeasure by tactless amorousadvances, feared that once her position became unassailable she wouldcause him to be dismissed from court. Marie Grävenitz was horrified atthe idea of her sister-in-law's great success; she said it was sinful. Poor soul, she was very jealous. Zollern, however, regarded the strangemarriage with favour. He foresaw the complications ahead, and intended tosteer for a happy landing of the Prince and his new bride on the eternalshores of Roman Catholicism. The Pope would declare Eberhard Ludwig'sformer alliance with Johanna Elizabetha to be null and void, and, inreturn, the Duchy of Wirtemberg would be gathered back to the HolyChurch. Madame de Ruth alone rejoiced honestly in the brilliant ending of the'great intrigue, ' and if there was another thought in her mind, it wasdelight at the discomfiture of the dull Duchess; but chiefly the oldcourtesan was happy that this honour befell her friend. She had conceiveda real affection for Wilhelmine. Zollern tapped his cane on the parquet floor, rhythmically, persistently. To Madame de Ruth the tapping sound seemed to beat on her brain, and sheput out her hand imploring silence. 'How gay, my friends!' she exclaimed;'really, we owe our friend a little merriment on her wedding day!' 'I do not think I can permit my sister to go through this marriageceremony. It would show a nicer spirit towards me, the head of herhouse, if she considered the difficulties she may land me in----' 'Bonté divine! Grävenitz, what foolishness!' said Madame de Ruth sharply. 'If you could manage to forget your own important existence for atime----' She was interrupted by the entry of a personage of clericalappearance. Madame de Ruth rose to greet the new arrival. 'Hochwürden, 'she said in German, 'you received my letter? and you are ready to do as Irequire--ask no questions and marry a couple, you may know who, but onthat head silence until your testimony is necessary; and then you areprepared to swear you have married them in all legal and religious form?In return a hundred gulden, and I undertake also to have the Pfarrhausrepaired. Is that well? yes?--well, let me present you: Monseigneur deZollern you have the honour to know already; M. Le Comte de Grävenitz, Madame la Comtesse, M. De Stafforth, may I present to you Herr Pfahler, Pastor of the Lutheran Church at Aalendorf?' The man bowed deeply to each in turn. Marie Grävenitz scarcelyacknowledged his salute for fear of endangering her Catholic soul byintercourse with a Protestant pastor. 'Now, Herr Pastor, are those arrangements complete? See here, I havedraped you an altar. Oh! unnecessary, you say, for a Lutheran marriage? Iregret, enfin--so much prettier, hein? Well, you can stand before it tomarry our friends, it will not affect you! Then, here are two cushionsfor them to kneel on; a Bible, pen, and paper for the legal documents. Yes, is that all? Well, I may now call our friends, ' and she rustled outof the room. A constrained silence fell on the four occupants of the apartment. ThePastor who had followed after Madame de Ruth to don his black 'talar, 'the clerical gown of the Lutheran divine, returned and took up hisposition before the altar table. He busied himself turning over theleaves of the Bible, and the faded flower fluttered out and fell on toone of the cushions prepared for the bride and bridegroom. The dooropened and Eberhard Ludwig, Duke of Wirtemberg, entered the room. Hebowed gravely to the assembled company, then moved forward and stoodfacing Pfahler before the improvised altar. The guests had risen at hisHighness's entry. The silence was intense. Of a sudden a huge black formbounded through the window. Marie Grävenitz screamed shrilly, and theHerr Pastor started violently. 'It is only my dog, Madame, ' said his Highness. 'He has found me afterall. I left him locked up in my sleeping-room. Here, Mélac, lie down!quiet! good dog!' he called, and the wolf-hound obediently stretchedhimself beside the Duke. 'I thought it was the devil, ' Marie Grävenitz whimpered. 'The devil, Madame, come to attend these espousals, ' remarked Stafforthwith a sneer. 'Silence, Monsieur, ' said his Highness haughtily; and once more abrooding stillness fell on the company, broken only by Mélac's heavybreathing, and the flutter of the Bible's pages between the Pastor'snervous fingers. Would the bride never come? this waiting wasintolerable. Eberhard Ludwig stood stern and silent, his hand resting onhis rapier's hilt. At length there came the swish of silken garmentsrasping over the rough wooden boards of the corridor floor. Once more thedoor was flung open, and Wilhelmine von Grävenitz stood on the threshold. She looked like some lavish flower of a tropic clime, a gorgeous whiteblossom, surrounded by rich golden outer petals. Her gown was of thedelicate yellow colour which she loved, and her bare breast was creamywhite, and showing the blue tracery of the veins through the fine skin. From her shoulders fell a heavy white brocade cloak, trimmed with erminelike the coronation robe of a queen. Her hair was powdered and piled highon her head, the towering masses adding height to her great stature. Shelooked a queen among women, a glorious figure of youth and majesty, andit was little wonder that Eberhard Ludwig was enthralled. 'Dressed as a royal princess already!' spitefully whispered Stafforth toMarie Grävenitz, who looked at her radiant sister-in-law with envywritten on her narrow face. Eberhard Ludwig came forward, bowed profoundly before his bride, and ledher towards the altar. The Pastor stared in astonishment when he saw thewoman he had undertaken to marry to his Prince, for he recognised thetraveller he had met at Tübingen. The stranger's face had haunted hisdreams. And now the brief ceremony commenced. The Pastor, evidently nervous, mumbled his words indistinctly; and of a truth, no one of the assembledcompany paid much heed to the sermon and prayers, for each was busy withthoughts of personal ambition and intrigue, excepting Marie Grävenitz, whose lips moved rapidly in prayer that she might be forgiven for takingpart in an heretical rite. Madame de Ruth watched Wilhelmine with adoringeyes; perchance she dreamed this beautiful woman to be her child returnedto her. Poor mite, who slept forgotten in its tiny grave----! 'May the blessing of God rest upon you, and may God enable you to keepsacred the vows you have made this day, ' concluded the Pastor, and thebride and bridegroom rose from their knees. 'I have the honour to present to you Madame la Comtesse d'Urach, whichtitle I hereby confer upon my beloved wife, pending the bestowal of thefirst title of my Dukedom, which I shall hope to be able to offer to mywife in a few months' time. Meanwhile, I beg you, my friends, of yourgood feeling, to pay the same respects and courtesies to the Countess ofUrach as you, so kindly, pay to myself. ' Up jumped Madame de Ruth and kissed Wilhelmine on both cheeks, then sankto the ground before her in a deep courtesy; but the other friends hungback, save Zollern, who came forward and, bowing over the bride's hand, remarked: 'To every beautiful woman should be rendered homage. ' It was anadroit compromise, half reminder, half graceful, tactful compliment, fornaturally a Prince of his house could not be expected to pay royalhonours to any Countess of Urach--or even Duchess of Wirtemberg, savefrom courtesy or worldly wisdom. Stafforth, the adventurer, had an uglysneer on his countenance, and was evidently embarrassed, so took refugein the frequent attitude of the vulgar when ill at ease--a noisyjocularity. 'Ha! ha!' he laughed boisterously, 'and now for the wedding feast! Brideand bridegroom, come along--and we'll have a song to cheer us!' Friedrich Grävenitz, full of fictitious emotion, was kissing his sister'shand repeatedly, and making little speeches to her, the beauty of whichmoved him almost to tears; though when he saw no one was admiring him, heretired in aggrieved silence, thinking 'What a bad spirit these peopleshow towards me!' Marie Grävenitz stiffly congratulated her sister-in-law, and pressed ameagre cheekbone against Wilhelmine's glowing face; she called this akiss. Pfahler bowed before the bride: 'I have had the honour to meet yourHighness, '--Wilhelmine started, Zollern tapped with his stickimpatiently--'to meet your Highness before--one day at Tübingen; but yourHighness could not recollect. I had no idea then that I was speaking withso exalted a lady. ' 'Nor were you then, ' said Wilhelmine with that bright humorous smile ofhers; 'but indeed, Hochwürden, I do remember, and I recollect how youtold me of the history of master races cradled in the Swabian hills. ' 'I have assisted to-day at a great historic scene. May a new race ofstrong men and princes arise herefrom!' said Pfahler, the historicdreamer. 'Umph! ces bourgeois hérétiques ne savent jamais trouver le justemilieu, ' growled Zollern to Madame de Ruth. Now his Highness became impatient, the embarrassment of the scene seemedto grow each moment. 'A thousand thanks, dear friend, ' he said, turningto Madame de Ruth, 'a thousand thanks for all you have done for us, butwe must leave you now. Come, bid us God-speed!' He led the way from thepanelled room to the house door, before which stood a chaise de postewith six horses, which the three postillions restrained with difficulty. Dressed in his fine new coat, the peasant servant of Neuhaus stoodgrinning in the background. 'Come, Madame!' called his Highness. Wilhelmine sprang into the chaise, and Madame de Ruth, perilously balanced on the step, wrapped a white lacemantilla round the bride. The horses bounded forward, and, urged by thepostillions, raced away at a hand gallop. This was the first of that furious driving with which the favourite, inafter years, habitually dashed through the country. It was one of thecauses of her unpopularity with the peasants; they cursed her and herwild horses. 'Why such haste to do the devil's work?' they muttered; andthey cursed the dust which the chariot left, as the hated Grävenitzinthundered through the villages. CHAPTER XII THE MOCK COURT 'The very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream. _Hamlet. _ AFTER their marriage his Highness and the Countess of Urach took up theirresidence in the castle of Hohen-Tübingen, where Wilhelmine had wandered, a lonely stranger, on the morning of her arrival in Wirtemberg. Now shewas the queen of the grim fortress, and, looking upon the fair valley andthe distant hills, she would often ponder on the marvellous workings ofher destiny. The court of Wirtemberg naturally held aloof from the unlawfulmagnificence at Tübingen, and her Ladyship of Urach realised that shemust form a circle of her own, so she summoned her family from the north. Her sister, Emma Sittmann, came from Berlin accompanied by her husband, the merchant's warehouse clerk, who it was said, had been at one timehairdresser to a Countess of Wartensleben, and had been dismissed for hisinsolence. A cousin came with the Sittmanns, Schütz by name, a shadyattorney who had been discredited for sharp practices in various towns, including Vienna, where, however, he still retained business relations ofa mysterious and probably reprehensible character. A number of friendsand relations, both of Schütz's and Sittmann's, also hastened toTübingen. Sittmann had been married once before he took Wilhelmine'ssister to wife, and of this former union he had two gawky sons, whoaccompanied their father and stepmother to this land of promise. Old Frau von Grävenitz was invited by her successful daughter to repairto Wirtemberg but the harsh old lady responded by a bluff refusal and acommand to Wilhelmine to return to virtue. She never visited Wirtemberg, and though she condescended to receive small sums from FriedrichGrävenitz, regardless of the fact that the money actually came fromWilhelmine, she remained sternly disapproving to the end of her days. It was but a small court, and Wilhelmine found it all insufficient, soshe selected from among the Tübingen students half a dozen youths ofundistinguished birth but undoubted intelligence, and caused them to begiven minor court appointments. Stafforth was dismissed; his wife wasJohanna Elizabetha's friend, and the Countess disliked him. Knowing himfor an unscrupulous adventurer himself, she judged him capable of gaugingthe small social standing and slightly veneered vulgarity of Sittmann, Schütz and company. So Stafforth's Oberhofmarshall's baton was conferredon Friedrich Grävenitz, together with a considerable income. Sittmann wasmade a baron (of Wirtemberg, not of the Empire); Schütz became Geheimrathand personal secretary to his Highness; Madame de Ruth wasOberhofmeisterin--'Dame de Déshonneur, ' Wilhelmine called her inprivate--and the two ladies laughed much at the recollection of this, poor Johanna Elizabetha's solitary witticism. The Sittmann was Dame duPalais, her stepsons were Kammerjunker (equerries) to the Duke. Pageswere chosen from among the younger Tübingen students, and any chancevisitor was given a high-sounding title and a sham office. The only workof the whole heterogeneous collection was to be gorgeously attired; butthis was easy, as the Duke paid all expenses; to be young and gay, or youwere even permitted to be old, could you be witty; and before every otherduty came the obligation of treating the Countess of Urach with all theceremony and adulation which the world is accustomed to offer to queens. The Duke's own guard was commanded to Tübingen, and so much silver wasadded to their uniforms that the regiment now thoroughly earned itsappellation of Silver Guard. Many Tübingen students were enrolled in thecorps; indeed, it was imperative there should be a leaven ofWilhelmine's adherents in the troop, for Zollern said that he did nottrust the old guard where she was concerned. An erstwhile strolling company of Italian comedians was installed ascourt play-actors; a number of French fiddlers and singers arrived, andwere officially entitled 'The Countess of Urach's Musicians. ' It was all very absurd, without doubt; a mock court, but gay, brilliant, lavish, and gradually various members of the legitimate court filtered into Tübingen and were swept into the festive stream. Eberhard Ludwig was supremely happy. If at moments he shrank a littlefrom the Sittmanns, or Schütz plebeian airs and insolences, still he wasreally entertained and amused. Never a hint of dullness at Wilhelmine'scourt. The witticisms were atrocious, the comedies lewd, the dancing atrifle indecorous perhaps, but her real gaiety, her innate knowledge oflimits, and above all, her unfailing admiration for her 'husband, ' madelife delightful at Tübingen. Towards the beginning of September the'court' moved to Urach, where the Duke wished to enjoy some shooting andstag-hunting. There was but one small cloud on Wilhelmine's sky at this time, and thiswas the silence maintained by the Emperor and his advisers. EberhardLudwig had informed his Majesty of his marriage, craving his suzerain toratify its legality, and permit him to raise the Countess of Urach to therank of Duchess of Wirtemberg. He set forth that, during ten years, hisformer wife Johanna Elizabetha had been sterile, and therefore, asreigning Prince, he was at liberty to declare that alliance null, and forthe good of his country take to wife another woman capable of bearingchildren. He undertook to provide for Johanna Elizabetha according to herroyal position, and declared he would accord her all honours due to anex-Duchess of Wirtemberg, viz. Residence, monies, guards, privileges, titles, etc. The Duke's epistle was an astounding document enough, especially coming from a Prince whose repudiated wife had presented himwith an heir, albeit that heir, the Erbprinz Friedrich Ludwig, was but asickly specimen of mankind--a youth unlikely to live long enough tosucceed his father or to provide successors to his House. In thisimperial silence lay the opportunity of Zollern and the Catholic party, who believed that if the Emperor proved obdurate, it would be possible toobtain from Rome a decree of annulment of Johanna Elizabetha's marriage, on the pretext of State necessity. Of course, the price of this papalconcession was Eberhard Ludwig's conversion to the Roman faith, and thereinstalment of Catholicism as the State religion of Wirtemberg. Zollern fully realised that Wilhelmine was playing a dangerous game; heknew that any day an imperial edict might crush her, branding her as abigamist. The brunt would fall on _her_, for Eberhard Ludwig, as reigningPrince and valuable ally of Imperial Vienna, would escape with areprimand. But for her an Austrian prison was on the cards, or at bestperpetual exile and outlawry, which would make it difficult for any Stateto befriend her. He bethought him of his kinsman, Frederick I. OfPrussia, an amiable monarch, and Zollern's personal friend and cousin. IfAustria proved obdurate, and Rome objected to entering into a disputewith Vienna, at least Wilhelmine could find powerful protection atBerlin. Zollern wrote to his cousin of Prussia, praying him to grant theCountess of Grävenitz, Countess of Urach, a perpetual Schutzbrief, orLettre de Sauvegarde--an official document binding the King of Prussia toprotect the lady and her property, if she appealed for aid. Frederick I. Granted this without ado. Still the imperial answer tarried. It behoved Eberhard Ludwig to announcehis marriage formally to the officials at Stuttgart. Wilhelmine enjoyingthe prospect of the scene urged Serenissimus to summon his Geheimräthe, or Privy Councillors, to Urach immediately. They were to arrive at thecastle in the afternoon, she decided; the marriage was to be announced, then a State banquet was to take place in the ancient tilting-hallbeneath the castle. This latter, of course, she would not attend; but itwould be followed by a grand ball in the Golden Hall, where all shouldgreet her as Queen of the Revels, as legal wife of their Duke, asCountess of Urach and future Duchess of Wirtemberg. Thus it befell that on the 15th of September 1707, eight pompousgentlemen, Geheimräthe of the Dukedom, arrived at the castle of Urach. They were met with much ceremony at the gate and conducted to the GoldenHall. A delightful quaint place this: picture to yourself a largeapartment, three sides of which open out in lattice windows throughwhich, if your eye wanders, you see the rounded Swabian hills denselyclad in beech and pine. On the summit of one of the nearest of thesehills stands the grim fortress of Hohen-Urach, an impregnable strongholdof mediæval days turned prison in the eighteenth century. The Golden Hallis decorated, as its name portends, with gilded devices on the wall, withstately golden pilasters and formal green-painted trees, whose branchesmeander quaintly over one entire wall of the room, that wall unbroken bythe windows. Over the two heavily carved doors the tree-branches twineand twist into the word 'ATTEMPTO, ' the proud motto of Count Eberhard'the Bearded, ' a great gentleman of the Cinque cento, whose nuptials witha Princess of Mantua were celebrated in the same Golden Hall. In memorywhereof their nuptial bed still stood in the hall where Eberhard Ludwigassembled his Privy Council for the announcement of his marriage withWilhelmine von Grävenitz, the Mecklemburg adventuress. The councillorskept waiting in the Golden Hall guessed the preposterous demand theirDuke would make to them. They were in a fine quandary. What to say to aPrince who answered questions of legal right by: 'I am above the law, alter the petty phrase in your code-book. ' A Prince, mark you, who couldpunish resistance with death. And yet at Vienna was a suzerain who mightchastise the official participators in a crime against the Empire's laws. So the eight councillors stood moodily waiting for their Prince toappear, and contemplating with anger the elaborate preparations for theevening's feast. Such flowers, such rich hangings, and what were thosetwo fine chairs? The Duke was coming; they heard a woman's voice in the corridor, awoman's laugh--most unseemly. His Highness greeted them ceremoniously, and then: 'My honourable council, I have summoned you to announce my marriage tothe Reichsgräfin Wilhelmine von Grävenitz, Countess of Urach, which wassolemnised privately, though in all legal and religious form, a yearago. ' No one has ever known why his Highness told this useless untruth anentthe date of his mock marriage, for he must have known that none wouldbelieve that, at least; besides, why tell an unnecessary lie? 'It is convenient to me to declare publicly my new alliance at this time, and I desire that the news shall be received by you and all my subjectsin Wirtemberg, not only without comment, but with fitting expressions ofcontent and with feasting and rejoicing. My late wife, the PrincessJohanna Elizabetha of Baden-Durlach, I direct shall receive the honoursand respect due to a Princess Dowager of Wirtemberg, and I appoint you toarrange with her Highness where she shall reside, provided it is not inor near my city of Stuttgart. The appanage I concede to the PrincessDowager Johanna Elizabetha is ten thousand gulden a year beside her ownsmall marriage dowry. To my present legal wife, the Countess of Urach, Iappoint royal honours and the castle of Urach as residence, in additionto such lodgings as it may please her to occupy in any other of mycastles. She will receive an appanage of twenty-five thousand gulden ayear. Gentlemen, you will take part in the festivities here to-day, andto-morrow I charge you to repair to Stuttgart and to acquaint theDuchess----' he corrected himself hastily, 'Princess Johanna Elizabethawith these facts. ' There was a moment's pause. The Geheimräthe looked at one another inconsternation; this was an even more astounding declaration than they haddreamed his Highness could venture to make. Geheimrath von Hespen, adevoted adherent of the Duchess Johanna Elizabetha, came forward. 'Your Highness, I speak in the name of my colleagues. This thing you askis impossible: law, religion, usage forbid. I solemnly adjure yourHighness to refrain from----' 'Herr von Hespen, I have given you my commands. It remains for me toinform you of the penalty I impose upon such as are disobedient to me. All who refuse to carry out my instructions cease to be members of myPrivy Council; those who venture to speak against me or my wife areguilty of treason. As I think you are aware, the punishment of treasonis death. ' 'Monseigneur the Prelate Osiander, ' announced the page-in-waiting as heflung open the door of the Golden Hall. Eberhard Ludwig turned excitedlyto greet the Prelate. 'Osiander, ' he cried, 'you have come in time. ' 'God grant I have, Serenissimus, ' returned Osiander sternly. 'As a priest of God I pray you to tell these gentlemen that those whomGod has joined together no man's power can put asunder!' cried hisHighness. 'That is exactly what I have the duty to remind your Highness, ' returnedthe Prelate. 'The Duchess Johanna Elizabetha, your wife----' EberhardLudwig started violently; he saw that he had blundered. 'I do not speak of my _late_ wife, Monsieur le Prélat. She is no longermy wife! She who holds that position is Wilhelmine, Countess of Urach. ' 'Impossible, Serenissimus, as long as the Duchess Johanna Elizabethalives, ' replied Osiander. 'By all the rites of the Church, by the law of God and man, I am trulywedded to the Countess of Urach!' the Duke answered passionately. 'As long as your Highness lives in mortal sin the Church denies you theSacraments. I am the representative of the Church, your Highness, and inthe presence of your Privy Council I pronounce this ban upon you, ' saidthe Churchman severely. 'Let me remind you that there is another Church. Remember I am Pope in myland! If you of the Lutheran confession will not serve me, I will seekconsolation in an older faith!' cried Eberhard Ludwig. The Geheimräthe, huddled together in a whispering, wavering, frightenedgroup, had listened to Osiander's grave words in silence, but at thisspeech of his Highness's they broke into agitated exclamations: 'His Highness does not know what he says! Roman idolatry! Ah!Monseigneur! It is contrary to the testament of Eberhard the Ancient andthe true laws of Wirtemberg!' Eberhard Ludwig paid no heed to these varied ejaculations of his PrivyCouncillors. He was watching Osiander's stern face, and his ownexpression was as unrelenting as the Prelate's. 'Is this your last word, Monsieur Osiander?' he said quietly. 'Yes, Monseigneur, my last word, and the decision of the Church which Irepresent. ' 'Then, sir, I can dispense with your presence in my castle of Urach, 'replied the Duke haughtily. The Prelate withdrew without a word. Eberhard Ludwig waited till Osianderpassed out of the Golden Hall, then: 'Gentlemen, you have heard. Now Irequire you to sign this document. Those who do not sign, cease to bemembers of my Privy Council. ' He drew a large folded paper from hisbreast, and laying it open upon the table desired one of the Geheimrätheto read it aloud. It was a repetition in formal legal terms of hisHighness's speech to the Council, and had been drawn up and cleverlyworded by Schütz, the fraudulent attorney of Vienna. 'Your Highness takes the entire responsibility of this act?' questionedone of the councillors. 'Yes, noble sirs, and I have but to add that such of you as do not signwill be arrested immediately. ' He moved back a few paces, and pushingopen the door revealed to the councillors a detachment of Silver Guardsstationed in the corridor without. Seven Geheimräthe approached the tableand without more ado affixed their signatures to the document. Only Herrvon Hespen remained. 'I await your decision, sir, ' said Serenissimus harshly. 'I shall not sign, ' replied Hespen. 'Arrest this gentleman!' called the Prince; 'and now, sirs, we willrepair to the tilting-hall and our banquet. ' The small town of Urach was in a state of such commotion as it had notknown since the far-off day when Count Eberhard the Bearded received hisMantuan bride at the castle. All day coaches rolled into the courtyard ofthe old inn, and the narrow streets were filled with servants anxiouslyseeking lodgings for their masters. At every moment coaches drew up inthe courtyard of the small hostelry and companies of fine gentlemen rodein. Every one demanded accommodation, and quarrels and protestationsfilled the air. In the streets hawkers called their wares, ribbons, laces, patches. A strolling vender of reputed wonder-working balsams andphiltres attracted a laughing crowd; itinerant musicians arrived on thescene and added the strains of stringed instruments and the choruses ofgay songs to the general clamour. Urach, the quiet hill-town, where manyquaint fountains murmur ceaselessly, seemed turned into a place ofcarnival. Near the castle gate the crowd of peasants and burghers wasdense, every one inquisitive to catch a glimpse of the gay doings within, but the sentries kept the people back and only the foremost watcherscould see the interior of the courtyard. Here too was festive bustle, forhis Highness sat at the grand banquet in the tilting-hall, andserving-men ran hurriedly across the courtyard bearing steaming viandsfrom the kitchen or laden with platters of delicious cakes. The Duke'sCellar-master appeared in the gateway and, addressing the expectant mob, shouted the welcome statement that his Highness desired his friends ofUrach to drink to his health. Barrels of wine were rolled across to thecastle gate and the onlookers served with copious draughts. Then theCellar-master called for silence, and, striking an attitude, he spoke: 'His Highness prays you to drink long life and happiness to his noblebride, the Countess of Urach. Come--Hoch! and again--Hoch!' 'Bride, indeed!' roared the crowd; 'harlot, you mean!' some said, butthey drank greedily all the same. Wilhelmine was waiting in the Golden Hall, and through the open casementshe heard the comments of the rabble. 'Harlot, adulteress, witch, ' sherepeated slowly, as she listened to these epithets used by the men whilethey drank her health. She raged. 'Ah, you canaille!' she whispered, 'itwas _I_ ordered you that good red wine! Blood I will give you to drinkanother time, blood to choke you. ' She drew back from her place near thewindow. 'But your hatred shall not mar my triumph to-night. God's curseon you, my husband's people!' The Golden Hall was decked in white flowers, and at one end of the largeroom, twined and garlanded with roses, a daïs had been raised, and twohuge gilt chairs, the only ones in the apartment, had been placed on thisplatform. It looked like a throne of King and Queen, and Eberhard Ludwighimself had protested at this uncustomary assumption of a regalsuperiority over his guests. But Wilhelmine had silenced him with a look. She had pointed to Duke Eberhard's motto. 'Attempto, ' she whispered; 'Prussia is a kingdom now, why notWirtemberg?' Now Prussia's advancement was an eyesore to South Germany, and EberhardLudwig's envious ambition was stirred. 'Attempto, ' he murmured as he went to prepare to meet his Geheimräthe. The success of this séance we already know. The moments dragged. From the window of the Golden Hall Wilhelmine couldsee the church clock's slow finger lagging from point to point. Below, the crowd was still drinking and shouting, and the hated woman shudderedwhen she thought what would be her fate were she at the mercy of thatthrong which celebrated her wedding festivities. Coaches rumbled into the courtyard. Soon the Countess heard voices in theWhite Hall or music-room, where the guests had been requested toassemble, pending the reception in the Golden Hall by his Highness. Wilhelmine hurried away to complete her preparations for what sheintended to be one of the hours of triumph in her career. She found Madame de Ruth and the maid Maria polishing the jewels she wasto wear. 'Quick!' she cried, 'the guests arrive!' 'Yes, my dear, ' said Madame de Ruth dryly, 'all Stuttgart is coming here, I am told. The virtuous indignation was not strong enough. Curiosity hasbrought every one to see what you do. ' 'Give me _all_ the jewels, Maria, ' was Wilhelmine's only reply. * * * * * 'Monseigneur le Duc de Wirtemberg et Madame la Comtesse d'Urach!' calledOberhofmarshall Count Grävenitz, striking his marshal's staff heavilyupon the wooden floor of the corridor outside the Golden Hall. Then thedoors flew open, and the new Oberhofmarshall proceeded to the middle ofthe hall where he repeated his staff-tapping and loud announcement. Theguests drew back. 'Really! is she to come in procession like a queen?''Upon my soul, this is too much to swallow!' 'Quelle insolence!' Onecould hear these murmurs run through the assemblage; nevertheless theguests fell back obediently, making room for the solemn entry of hisHighness. 'Is she beautiful, at least?' queried a gentleman who, having butrecently returned from the army, had not yet seen the famous Grävenitzin. 'Pockmarked, and as tall as a grenadier, ' said a spiteful voice--awoman's. 'She sings divinely, ' said another voice. 'Her notes are very strong, if you mean that! She nearly breaks yourears, ' replied the same voice. Now the musicians struck up a stately measure, and two pages, of theSittmann family, of course, appeared in the doorway walking backwards. Hofmarshall Grävenitz thundered with his baton upon the ground; it mustbe conceded he seemed to take fondly to the exercise of his new duties. And now Eberhard Ludwig was seen in the doorway. His Highness wore amagnificent costume of white brocade, relieved only by the broad ribandsof several high orders, and on his breast the chain of Austria's GoldenFleece. Of a truth, Serenissimus looked a fine Prince, but all eyes wereupon the tall figure beside him--the Mecklemburg Fräulein, the Countessof Urach. Her underskirt was made of cloth of gold, rich and heavy; herhuge paniers were of embroidered satin of the Grävenitz yellow, as itcame to be called in after years; her corsage was yellow also, and fromher shoulders fell the white brocade cloak lined and trimmed with ermine, which she had worn on the day of her secret marriage at the Neuhaus. Herbreast was literally ablaze with jewels, and the pearls of Wirtemberg, which two hundred years before the Mantuan princess had brought asmarriage dowry, hung in ropes round the favourite's neck. So splendid avision had never met the eyes of the assembled company. The DuchessJohanna Elizabetha had worn these jewels, but they had somehow seemed todisappear in the awkward masses of her ill-chosen garments. You mayimagine, however, that her Highness had given the gems unwillingly toEberhard Ludwig's messenger charged to bring them forthwith to Urach. Wilhelmine advanced slowly, led by his Highness. She bowed gravely toright and left. The guests were astounded, struck dumb by the hugepresumption of the woman; some few returned her salute, others, bewildered and indignant, stared her blankly in the face. Serenissimusled her to the daïs, and as she took her seat bowed profoundly over herhand. The pages gathered round the steps of the daïs. Madame de Ruth tookup her position beside this pseudo-Duchess's chair. OberhofmarshallGrävenitz stood to the Duke's right, the Sittmann family rangedthemselves in a circle near this mock throne. Schütz, the fraudulentattorney, mighty fine in brown satin and gaily embroidered waistcoat, took a patronising and curious air as though, accustomed as he was to theceremony of Vienna's court, he found himself much diverted by thisprovincial gathering. Formal presentations began. The Countess of Urach had a gracious smilefor each and all, and the guests found themselves in an unpleasantdilemma. It is so difficult to be disagreeable to a smiling woman withoutactually insulting her; and that would have been dangerous, for who couldtell what the future might bring forth? Thus the ball progressed right merrily, and Wilhelmine's triumph wascomplete. The formality of the entertainment wore off a little, and thecompany danced gaily. Wilhelmine did not dance after the first gavotte, whose stately measure she trod with Monseigneur de Zollern, but this wasa solemn ceremony. For the rest, the Countess of Urach sat in her gildedchair and conversed with chosen courtiers who were led up to her by theOberhofmarshall or by Madame de Ruth. It was noticeable how the menlingered near her, and the ladies' angry spite was increased thereby. HisHighness danced much and often. He was justly celebrated as the finest, most graceful, most precise dancer of his day, and Stafforth--whocompiled a ponderous, pompous memoir of Eberhard Ludwig's journey toEngland to the court of Queen Anne, and also to the court of France--hasleft it on record that 'they all stood surprised before my Prince's greatagility and marvellous skill. ' So pavane followed gavotte and sarabande and the more modern minuet, andthe ball was very brilliant and gay. Late in the evening Schütz, his Highness's own secretary, was calledaway. 'Affairs of State!' he said airily, but so loudly that many should hearhim. A sudden presentiment knocked at Wilhelmine's heart: could this besome disastrous happening come to mar her triumph? She signed to Madamede Ruth. 'A cruel foreboding is over me, dear friend, ' she whispered. 'Tut! child, what should it be? Come, forget it, enjoy your hour. ' 'Alas! the best hours are always pursued by evil things!' repliedWilhelmine sadly. She turned to Reischach, who stood near her. 'Come andtell me a story of some gallant adventure, Baron! Now let us hear--youand a princess let it be, for I love the stories to which I amaccustomed!' She smiled maliciously, but the laughter froze on her lips, for Schütz was making his way towards her, and there was a look on hisface which told her the foreboding had not erred. 'News from Vienna, Madame, ' he said in a low voice when he reached herside. 'Tell me quickly what it is, ' she whispered back. 'Imperial mandate to his Highness. I know no more; but the messengers areof rank, and have the Emperor's commands to read the decree to hisHighness in person. I fear it is very serious for you. ' Eberhard Ludwig came up gaily. 'Come, Madame ma femme--come and tread ameasure with me!' Wilhelmine rose obediently. 'Have the messengers shut into the White Hall, make no disturbance here, 'she murmured as she passed Schütz. With smiling face and merry jest she danced the sarabande. 'And now, Monseigneur!' she cried in a ringing voice, when the danceconcluded, 'let us end these revels, it grows late! I pray you commandthe lackeys to bring the Tokay that we may drink our loving-cup with ourguests!' The wine was brought and quickly given round. 'My gentle ladies and noble sirs!' called his Highness, 'I drink to yourhappiness; I pray you drink to mine!' The guests raised their glasses, and it was only as they drank that theysaw Eberhard Ludwig bowing before Wilhelmine, and they realised withdismay that they had toasted her under the title of 'his Highness'shappiness. ' CHAPTER XIII THE DUCHESS'S BLACK ROOMS 'In God's hands are all things. It is blasphemy to fear. ' THE Imperial decree was uncompromising: 'She leaves your court, thisadventuress, or ill betide her. If you take a mistress, well andgood--that is not in the power of Emperor to forbid; but you haveinfringed the Empire's laws by bigamy, Serenissimus, and this we will nottolerate. The lady must depart; if she goes not, the rigours of the lawwill crush her. No more of your mock marriage, no more of your sorry, sham court. ' Thus the gist of the document which shattered Wilhelmine's hopes andinterrupted her triumph at Urach. But to relinquish her ambition thuseasily, instantly to render obedience to Father Vienna, this was not tobe expected from so potent a lady, nor indeed from Eberhard Ludwig, who, besides being deeply enamoured, judged his prerogative as an independentreigning Prince to be threatened by this summary command. Then, too, allthe parasites of the mock court advised resistance; urged it in everyway, for their own existence depended upon the Countess of Urach and thecontinuance of her royal retinue. His Highness penned a private letter to the Emperor, in which he setforth many arguments and added passionate entreaties. In his reasoning hequoted historical examples of a Prince's right to discard a wife forcauses of State necessity or convenience. Even Henry VIII. Of England washeld up as a pattern in this! One wonders whether the Emperor hadsufficient historical learning to smile at this unfortunate reference. Schütz was despatched with this private missive and other intricate legaldocuments. Meanwhile the life at Urach went its usual course: hunts, feasts, music, cards, love and laughter. Naturally those few members of the formerWirtemberg court who had suffered themselves to be drawn into the vortexof gaiety, now withdrew, and the Grävenitz circle grew to be more andmore the refuge of the brilliant disreputable. Adventurers flocked infrom all sides and, were they but entertaining, immediately became brightsatellites revolving round the sun of Wilhelmine's magnificence. Ofcourse, these personages were not welcomed by the older stars--theSittmanns and company; but the favourite waxed more overbearing, moreautocratic each day, and she permitted no censure of her will. The Duchess Johanna Elizabetha was not idle; she had summoned her familyfrom Baden-Durlach, and they were moving heaven and earth, or ratherVienna, in her cause. Schütz wrote that things were going badly for the Grävenitz: the Emperorwas obdurate, the Privy Council was stern, and public opinion strongagainst the double marriage. Johanna Elizabetha at this crisis fell ill--'of a colic, ' said the courtof Urach scornfully; 'of poison, ' said Stuttgart, Baden-Durlach, finallyVienna. This was serious, wrote Schütz. There were not wanting personswho hinted that other inconvenient wives had died of this same class ofcolic, and that the illness had been caused by the rival mistress. Eberhard Ludwig raged, Wilhelmine laughed, but Zollern looked grave, andspoke of the Prussian letter of royal protection, and of the beauty andsafety of Schaffhausen. Anger gave place to anxiety, when a private letter from the Emperor toEberhard Ludwig arrived. It was really an unpleasant letter, and thecourt, to whom its contents were communicated, felt that it was thebeginning of the end. His Majesty wrote that he gave Serenissimus onelast chance of saving the lady of his heart. She must yield at once, orthe law would proceed against her ruthlessly. The Emperor added that hehad commissioned the Electors of Brunswick, Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel, andHesse-Cassel to act as intermediaries in the matter. They were empoweredto settle the dispute in his Majesty's name and in the interests ofvirtue, law, and order. Serenissimus was overwhelmed. He vowed he wouldabjure his allegiance to Austria, and as for the Protestant Church whichhad proved so inconveniently honest, that could go by the board and hewould go over to Rome. The Pope Clement XI. Was unfriendly to Austria politically, and hisHoliness would welcome the Duke of Wirtemberg to the fold. For the rest, Eberhard Ludwig talked wildly of approaching Louis XIV. And throwing inhis lot and his army with his old adversaries. The Pope was indeedinformed of the whole tangle, and had entered into secret negotiationswith Zollern on the subject. Hereupon Forstner reappeared, and by his reproaches, his tediousness, andhis tactlessness nearly confirmed Serenissimus in his frantic decision. Then arrived Osiander. He was a man of great strength of character andintellect, and he succeeded in demonstrating to the Duke thedishonourable nature of his intentions. Also he induced his Highness tocomprehend that the Pope, though ready to gather all men, and especiallyprinces, into the maw of Rome, could not make a double marriage legalwhere there was no feasible plea for annulment of the first union. To bepolitically hostile to Austria was one thing, to enter into open combatwith her another. Wirtemberg was not a large enough bribe in any case. At this juncture arrived the Electorial ambassadors, and lengthy, tediousnegotiations commenced. The deliberations seemed endless. Did theambassadors believe their task to be nearing completion, the other sidehad always a fresh plea, a new quibble; and the winter was far advancedbefore these unfortunate envoys declared that they could do no more. 'We have proved the so-called marriage to be illegal, ' they wrote to theEmperor; 'we have offered lands and moneys to the favourite; we have beenconciliatory, then threatening, but Serenissimus is as one blinded, andthe woman remains in her preposterous position. We can do no more, savehumbly to recommend your Majesty to enforce the rigours of the lawagainst this bigamous female. ' So Brunswick Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel, andHesse-Cassel retired discomfited. On the other side, Schütz in Vienna had made no headway. The mock courtcontinued as before, sometimes at Urach, sometimes at Tübingen orWildbad. Stuttgart was deserted, save for the mournful presence of theunhappy Duchess. The Countess of Urach's circle widened considerably, constantly enlargedby inquisitive travellers, and it was marvellous how many of thesepersons lingered and took root in the easy, evil soil of this unhallowed, unlawful court. The very servants were for the most part of doubtfulcharacter, and it is remarkable how successfully the Grävenitz ruled herstrangely composed household. She had the power to win hearts when shechose, and she did choose where her domestics were concerned. Her methodwas based on the human point of view. 'If I take this rascal into myservice and treat him well, he will respond by gratitude. At least, hewill be bound to me and to my interests. Should he betray me I can punishhim; but he is too disreputable for any one else to defend, therefore heis mine, my creature. ' These theories she expounded to Madame de Ruth, never to Serenissimus. He, poor deluded one, thought his mistress a verycharitable lady, and loved her the more for her kindness to sinners. Among this motley crew of her choosing was an Italian of the name ofFerrari, who had come to Tübingen with a troupe of strolling actors. In Tübingen the man had fallen ill, and Wilhelmine, hearing through themaid Maria of the Italian's misery, caused him to be nursed back to life. Then, when the grateful rascal came to thank his benefactress, she tookhim into her service. The man proved himself useful; he was quick andintelligent, and conceived a dog-like affection for the Grävenitz, whorewarded him by employing him in any secret message she desired to beconveyed. He it was who procured for her the various ingredients she usedin her magic brewings. He who spied upon the Duchess, for Wilhelmine hada morbid curiosity to know each action of the woman she injured. Thepeople whispered that Ferrari instructed the Grävenitz in the mysteriousand terrible secrets of Italian poisons. This gossip reached the ears ofJohanna Elizabetha and she trembled, fearing poison in all she ate, inall she touched, in the petals of the roses of the castle garden, in thedust which lay on the road. An ugly story leaked out. The Duchess's head cook, Glaser by name, recounted how Ferrari had visited him and offered him a purse of gold anda little phial which contained a greyish white powder. This, Ferrari hadtold him, was a rare medicine known in Italy alone; it would cause abarren woman to become fruitful. The Italian told Glaser that thisprecious physic was sent for her Highness Johanna Elizabetha by one wholoved her well and would fain serve her. Glaser was desired to sprinkleit on the Duchess's food, but her Highness must be unaware of itspresence, for such knowledge would destroy the medicine's efficacy. Glaser replied that he would willingly serve so noble and unfortunate alady as Johanna Elizabetha, but he refused to take the responsibility ofadministering the powder. If, however, Ferrari first showed it to thecourt doctor, Schubart, Glaser would undertake to mix the stuff into somedish for her Highness. At mention of the physician, Ferrari disappearedand did not return. Then Glaser averred he had been set upon near theJudengasse one dark night, soon after Ferrari's visit. Two masked bravosattacked him from behind, and it was only by the chance passing of thetown guard that he had escaped with his life. Her Highness heard thisstory and she smiled bitterly, knowing that her barren state proceededfrom a very important omission, and that no powder could be efficacious. And who should know this better than the Grävenitz? the sender of thisabsurd powder, as the Duchess surmised. 'Poison!' said the Duchess, anddespatched a broken-hearted letter to Vienna telling of her bodily peril. The days lengthened, bright April came with the calling and rustling ofSpring in all the air. There were mighty gay doings again at Urach, butStuttgart held aloof. Things had gone too far; the story of the whitepowder had played the Grävenitz an evil turn, and people were genuinelyhorrified at her wickedness. Not a jot cared Wilhelmine. 'TheStuttgarters were such provincials, such shabby, heavy, rude louts, 'said the lady from Güstrow. There were no festivities at the castle inStuttgart. How should there be with the agonised, deserted woman ashostess? It was her Highness's custom to pray and meditate in solitude for an hourwhen the day waned. She led a busy, if sedentary, life; sewing hereternal garments of coarse flannel for the poor while Madame de Stafforthread aloud from books of piety. A number of poor people came to thecastle, and her Highness was ever ready--nay, eager, to listen to theirtales of misery and to distribute alms to these her only courtiers. Thenthere were the legal reports of the learned doctors-at-law engaged uponher matrimonial business. Johanna Elizabetha welcomed the twilight hour'ssolitary musing. Poor soul! often she spent this hour on her knees, mourning her sorrow before God. One evening towards the middle of April, the Duchess had withdrawn asusual to her own apartments leaving Madame de Stafforth in the chiefsalon reading a sermon by an eminent Swiss divine. The two ladies hadfelt strangely nervous and anxious during the afternoon, and severaltimes it had seemed to her Highness that she heard stealthy footsteps onthe inner gallery of the courtyard, but when she questioned thepage-in-waiting whose duty it was to watch at the door of the ante-hallleading to her Highness's rooms, the youth replied that he had seen andheard nothing. The Duchess told herself she was becoming a fearsome, anxious old woman, and she endeavoured to smile down the haunting feelingof some unseen, creeping presence. Still it was with a sense oftrepidation that she entered the small room where she was wont tomeditate each evening when the day's wearisome, self-imposed labours wereended. This room lay beyond her Highness's sleeping chamber and had asmall balcony looking over the Lustgarten. This apartment was plainly furnished, almost monastic in its simplicity:one chair, a small bureau, a table on which lay a few books of sermonsand volumes of theological treatises, and a praying-stool stood againstthe wall. The only thing recalling the vanities of the world was a mirrorlet into the panel above the praying-stool. Indeed, this mirror was arelic of one of poor Johanna Elizabetha's few happy hours. EberhardLudwig had ordered the whole room to be panelled with mirrors, havingseen some such conceit in a château in France during his travels. He hadthought to please her Highness by this attention, but the dull, awkwardwoman had forbidden the completion of the plan: it was a wrongful wasteof money, she averred, and a French vanity! So Eberhard Ludwig hadangrily commanded the workmen to desist, and, wounded and offended, hehad reflected on his wife's lack of appreciation of the little eleganciesof life. True, she had seemed pleased by his thought of her, she hadthanked him--but she had declined his present! The only alteration in the castle which Johanna Elizabetha had ever beenknown to order had been done, to the surprise of all, some time after theDuke's desertion of his wife and son. The entire suite of apartmentswhich her Highness occupied had been redecorated. The panelling, whichwas of time-mellowed oak, the Duchess had caused to be painted black, thechairs and tables of her rooms were covered with black brocade, and thewindow curtains were fashioned of the same sombre material. It was astrange fancy, the exaggeration of a brain strung up, taut and strainedto a quivering line on the border of insanity. Yet the Duchess was notmad, only sad to desperation, utterly humiliated, shuddering with despairand shame. Possibly the unhappy woman, shut into the silence of her dumbpersonality, had here sought to give expression to her voiceless agony. The effect of these black walls, black furniture, black hangings, wasodiously funereal. Some one said that her Highness should complete thepicture of mourning by donning the sinister trappings of the Swabianwidow--the bound brow, the nunlike hood, the swathing band with whichSouth German widows of mediæval times hid their lips from the sight ofall men, in token of their bereavement and enforced chastity. Her Highness looked anxiously round her sleeping apartment as she passedthrough. To her overstrung nerves each darker shadow held an evil menace. A breeze crept in through the open casement, and swayed the heavy blackcurtains round her Highness's bed, and she started back, thinking thatsome hostile hand had moved the folds. In vain she told herself howbaseless were her fears. She chid herself for a craven, but her heartstill fluttered fearfully, and her lips were a-tremble when she reachedthe little room. She sank down in her chair with a sigh of relief. Herein this little room, she reasoned, there could be nothing to fear; herewere no shadowy corners where a lurking enemy might hide. 'O God! O God!' she wailed suddenly aloud, 'am I going mad that I shouldtremble at a gust of wind, that I should suffer this insane consciousnessof some haunting presence near me when I know I am, in truth, alone andsafe?' She covered her face with her hands. 'Your Highness, ' came a voice, and the unhappy woman started to her feetin renewed alarm--'Your Highness, have I permission to depart now?Monsieur de Stafforth wishes me to assist at a supper he gives thisevening. As your Highness knows, my husband is very harsh to me since theDuke dismissed him, and indeed I dare not be late. ' It was Madame de Stafforth who, having finished reading, had come to takeleave of the Duchess. 'Alas!' said her Highness sadly, 'I am not permitted to bear my sorrowalone; my friends must suffer also. ' 'Ah! Madame, ' said the little moth-coloured woman tenderly, 'we would allsuffer joyfully, could we ease your Highness; but think, Madame! you, atleast, have one great happiness: to all women it is not given to bear ason, and the Erbprinz grows stronger each day. ' Poor little Madame de Stafforth! The tragedy of her life lay in herwords. She was childless; and Stafforth reproached her--nay, taunted herdaily with this, for he desired an heir to carry on his new nobility. 'Forgive me, dear friend; indeed I am blessed. And my son grows stronger, you really think?' Johanna Elizabeth's face lit with a mother's tenderness, and the twoladies plunged into a detailed discourse on the Erbprinz's health. Atlength Madame de Stafforth took her leave. 'Shall I send any one to your Highness?' she asked as she reached thedoor. The Duchess's terrors had been allayed by the familiar discussion of theErbprinz's ailments, but a thrill of nameless fear passed through herwhen she remembered she would be alone again in her sombre apartment. Butthis was weakness! What had she read in the Swiss sermon? 'In the handsof God are all things. It is blasphemy to fear darkness, solitude, or theevil machinations of men. All is in the Great Grasp, and each happeningis made and directed by God. ' The solemn words came back to her now. 'Dear Madame de Stafforth, I can ring when I wish for any one. Goodnight, and God bless you!' she said, and laid her hand upon the smallsilver hand-bell which was on the bureau near her. When the sound of Madame de Stafforth's footsteps ceased, her Highnessturned to the books on the table and sought the volume of Swiss sermons;but it was not there; evidently Madame de Stafforth had forgotten tobring it from the salon. The Duchess decided to fetch it, but shelingered a moment, for it was unaccountably disagreeable to her to passthrough the half-light of her sleeping apartment. 'In the hands of God are all things!' she murmured, and with firm stepshe moved towards the sombre chamber. Once more she thought she saw thebed-curtains sway; she fancied she heard a movement behind her. 'It isblasphemy to fear, ' she said, but she felt her brow moisten with thesweat of terror. She found the book, and resolutely re-entered the sleeping-room. Shewould not allow her eyes to wander to the bed-hangings, nor to search thedusky corners of the chamber. She passed on, and, gaining the littlestudy, laid the book open on the table, and, leaning her head on herhands, began to read; but she could not fix her attention on the pagebefore her. She was tortured by faint stirrings, by scarcely perceptiblesounds, by an eerie feeling of some lurking presence always behind her. At length she could bear it no longer. She closed the book and rose, intending to ring the hand-bell and summon her attendants, but the wordsof the sermon echoed in her brain: 'It is blasphemy to fear, ' and shefelt ashamed of her impulse. She turned, and, going to the praying-stool, kneeled in prayer. 'Give me strength, O God! to resist this baseless terror, ' she prayed. 'In thy hands are all things!' Yet her anxiety was unsoothed, and thedread of madness came to her, but with it grew a brave defiance: shewould not go mad, she would not! She saw herself a prisoner in somecastle, kept alive and well treated, perhaps, but a piteous object, athing for all to point at--'the mad Duchess!' And the Grävenitz atStuttgart a legal Duchess. She believed a Prince could put away an insanewife. 'Not madness, kind Jesus!' she prayed. Her heart was wrung in agonyas she pictured her son, the Erbprinz, taunted perhaps by the mention ofhis mother's madness. 'All is in the Great Grasp, and each happening ismade and directed by God. ' 'O Christ, ' she prayed, 'I believe, I trust, Iwill not blaspheme by fear; no madness can strike me down while I believeand pray. ' She lifted her hot face from her hands, calmed, soothed, braveonce more. She was rising from her knees, and the movement brought hereyes on a level with the mirror panel. As one turned to stone, she stoodlooking into the mirror, for it reflected one corner of her bed in thenext room, and the fading light fell on something white which pushedaside the black brocade bed-curtain--a large yellow-white hand holding asmall gleaming knife. The Duchess, still with the dread of insanity uponher, told herself that it was an hallucination, a delusion, the frenziedworking of her overwrought brain. She gathered her courage and fixed hereyes on the mirror, which showed her what she conceived to be a phantom. The hand was large, with hair growing hideously over it, and jagged, bitten nails--she could see this distinctly, for the light fell from thewindow full on the black curtain, and showed up the yellow hand. Fascinated, she gazed into the mirror, wondering the while why, now thatthe horror actually confronted her, she felt so little fear, whereasbefore she had started and trembled at each gust of wind. Now the handemerged further from out the hangings. An arm in a brown sleeve appeared. Then the curtains parted, and her Highness saw a ferret-like face appear. She knew that this was no phantom. Swiftly she calculated the distancebetween her and the hand-bell. She remembered that only her tiring-maidwould come in answer to the usual daily summons. If this man was indeedan assassin, he would do his work immediately; kill her ere the womancould come, and the unsuspecting maid herself might easily be silencedwith one stab from that pointed dagger. All this the Duchess realised ina flash. She had never thought so rapidly in her life. No! she must notring; she must dupe the murderer! Her eyes met the assassin's in themirror, but she had the strength to return the gaze in an abstractedfashion, so that the man should be uncertain whether she had seen him, orwhether the mirror had failed, by some strange chance, to transmit hisreflection. Instinctively she felt that her death-warrant would be signeddid the man know her to be aware of his presence. She moved towards thetable; thus she was out of the mirror's range, and she therefore couldnot see what the man was doing in the adjoining apartment. 'Dupe him!escape by ruse! get out of the rooms to the ante-hall, let him think I amcoming back!' Dully this thought struggled in her mind. Withextraordinary calmness she commenced to move the books on the table, purposely rustling the pages. Then suddenly she knew her only way ofescape. 'Curious!' she said aloud; 'I thought my other book was here. I have leftit next door. I must find it and return to read and rest. ' As she saidthe words she walked into the sleeping-room. 'God give me strength not tolook towards the bed, ' she prayed silently. 'Lord, in thy hands are allthings. It is blasphemy to fear. ' Now she was in the shadowy bedroom; she moved slowly across, saying againaloud: 'I will fetch the volume and return. ' As the words left her lipsshe realised she had spoken in French; her ruse was useless then! Themurderer was probably some illiterate scoundrel; how should hecomprehend? But her dogged, methodical nature stood her in good stead. IfJohanna Elizabetha began anything, she invariably completed her task; soalthough she imagined her strategy spoiled through her use of the Frenchlanguage, she kept steadily moving across the large dark room. As shegained the door leading to the audience-chamber she heard the man'sbitten, jagged nails scrape the silk brocade of the hangings. He hadpushed aside the curtains, then--he was following her! 'God give mestrength, ' she prayed again. With unhurried step she passed across thewhole length of the long audience-chamber, and gently opened the door ofthe ante-hall. The page-in-waiting, a slight child of fourteen years, sprang to his feet, bowing deeply, as her Highness entered. 'Are you alone?' said the Duchess quietly. 'Is no lackey in waiting?' 'No, your Highness; I have had the honour to guard your Highness alonefor the last few minutes. There is no one else at all, ' the boy replied, proud of the trust reposed in him. 'I cannot give up this child to the assassin's dagger, ' thought theDuchess. To her strained hearing there seemed to be a creeping movement behindher. Quickly she pulled the key from the lock on the inner door of theaudience-chamber, and with trembling hand fitted it into the keyhole onthe ante-hall side. 'Quick, boy! fasten the other door leading to my apartment!' shewhispered. The youth ran forward to do her bidding, and as she heard the bolt fallunder his hand she succeeded in turning the key in the lock noiselessly. 'Call the guard! Quick! quick!' Instantly the page rushed off, and once more Johanna Elizabetha was alonewith the owner of that yellow, hairy hand, but with a bolted door betweenher and death this time. Still she held the door-handle firmly, and shefelt it being gently tried from inside. Then she heard distinctlystealthy footsteps stealing away across the audience-chamber. The guard clattered into the ante-hall--fifty men in yellow and silveruniforms, with drawn swords, and pistols showing grimly at their sides. The captain of the guard inquired her Highness's pleasure. The page hadsummoned him, saying her Highness was in danger of her life. 'Yes, ' said Johanna Elizabetha shortly, 'assassination. Search myapartments, the doors are locked. ' The men poured in: some straight through the audience-chamber, othersthrough the narrow corridor leading round at the back of the Duchess'ssleeping apartment. In a short time the captain returned. 'We have found no one, your Highness; yet I have left my men to searchagain, though in truth we have inspected every inch of all the rooms. ' He looked at Johanna Elizabetha curiously as he spoke. Did he guess hermad? She felt guilty, suspected. Could that horrid vision, that creeping, lurking man, have been a phantom? A thing, then, of her own creation, nota ghost of the castle--no, a spectre of her own! 'You cannot have searched everywhere, ' she said. 'There are no ghosts inthe castle save the White Lady, and I saw a man skulking in myapartments. ' 'Your Highness, the search has----, ' he began. 'I will direct your men, Monsieur, ' she interrupted hurriedly, andentered the audience-chamber. Carefully the soldiers went through therooms again, probing each dark corner and under the hangings with theirswords, but no one was to be found. The sweat stood on her Highness'sbrow. She knew she would give all she possessed for the man to bediscovered. If he were not, she knew that she must become insane--nay, she would be proved already mad to her own knowledge. Suddenly a shout went up from the soldiers who had penetrated to herHighness's praying-room, which, owing to its bareness and small size, hadreceived at first but a cursory glance from the searchers. Against the balustrade in the angle of the small balcony the murderercrouched. The soldiers dragged him forward and flung him, an unresisting, trembling heap, on to the middle of the floor. Her Highness hearing thecommotion hurried forward. 'You have found him, then? Oh, thank God!' she cried. 'Pardon, pardon, by your mother's heart, I implore!' moaned the miserablewretch, dragging himself like a crawling, wriggling animal towards theDuchess. He was immediately hauled back by the soldiers. 'Stand up, you worm, and give account of yourself, ' said the captainsternly, bestowing a kick on the man's ribs. 'I meant no harm! By Christ! I meant no harm!' the prisoner wailed. 'How came you in her Highness's apartments? Speak!' 'I am a stranger in Stuttgart, ' replied the man. 'Here's a lie for you, ' broke in a trooper; 'he's the Grävenitz's privateservant. I have often seen him at Tübingen. ' 'Yes! yes! yes! I am the Comtesse d'Urach's secretary; but I return toItaly soon, and I wished to see the Duchess's famous black rooms before Ileft! Curiosity has been my undoing! Pardon! pardon!' 'If you only wanted to see my rooms, ' said her Highness gently, 'why didyou hide from me beneath the hangings? Why had you a poignard in yourhand?' 'I had no poignard! By the Mother of God! I had no poignard, ' he whined. 'It is in his girdle, your Highness, ' said the trooper, drawing forth thedagger from the man's belt. 'I had a poignard in my girdle, but I meant no harm! I meant no harm!Madame, you cannot think I would have hurt you? Oh, mercy! mercy!' Oncemore he threw himself at the Duchess's feet. 'I hid indeed. O Madame! Ifeared your displeasure. Have mercy on me! I only wished to see yourbeautiful black rooms before I went back to Italy. When your Highnessspoke of fetching the book----' The Duchess started. Of course the manwas an Italian, and he understood French; that was how her plan had notmiscarried, as she feared it had, when she thought her adversary was somelocal cut-throat--'when your Highness spoke, I thought I might escapewhile your Highness was away, and then the doors were bolted and theguard came. Oh, mercy!' 'Poor soul, let him go, ' said Johanna Elizabetha gently. 'Your Highness, he shall go--to prison, till he is hanged. My man heretells me he is the person who gave poison to Kitchenmaster Glaser tosprinkle in your Highness's food, ' the captain answered. 'Alas! how evil are men's hearts, ' sighed the Duchess. 'Take him, then, but treat him gently. He says he meant no harm. ' CHAPTER XIV THE SECOND MARRIAGE THE news of the discovery of Ferrari in her Highness's apartments spreadthrough Stuttgart during the evening, and there arose a wave of intenseindignation. The Grävenitz was loudly denounced as the instigator of theattempted crime, and a mob gathered before the Jägerhaus, clamouring intheir fierce, blind rage to destroy the house where the hated woman hadresided. The riot grew so serious that it was necessary to call out thetown guard, and though the knot of violent rioters was easily dispersedby the soldiers, still during the whole night Stuttgart continued in anuproar, and fears of a dangerous disturbance were entertained. Messengers sped away to Urach, carrying the news of Ferrari's attempt andexaggerated reports of the unquiet state of the town. Early on the following morning Forstner, who resided for the most part atStuttgart, finding the Grävenitz court little to his liking, arrived atUrach, and pleading urgent private business was immediately admitted tohis Highness's audience-chamber. Wilhelmine from her powdering-closet could hear Forstner's deep voice, but, though she much desired it, she could not distinguish the words. Once she caught the name 'Ferrari, ' and then again 'her Highness. ' Couldit be the old story of Glaser and the white powder? she wondered. Impatiently she tapped her foot on the ground. She called Maria andinquired if Ferrari was in the castle. She was told he had left Urachearly on the preceding morning and had not been seen since. Wilhelminegrew anxious at this. It struck her disagreeably that the absent Italianshould be the subject of Forstner's early visit. Ferrari had beenstrangely gloomy and preoccupied of late, she had remarked. Indeed, hehad brooded in this fashion ever since the Glaser affair. True, Wilhelmine had taunted him cruelly with his failure, and the man alwaystook her lightest word to heart. He had conceived an affection for herwhich was a trifle inconvenient--a jealous, fierce affection madegrotesque by his ugly, undersized person. Eberhard Ludwig entered the powdering closet. His face was deadly pale, and his eyes held a look of horror and disgust which warned Wilhelmine ofsome grave occurrence. 'I have news of serious import, Madame, ' he said coldly; 'kindly dismissyour serving-woman. I wish to speak to you in private. ' Maria left the room with a sniff; she was accustomed to better treatment. In fact, she bade fair to become a tyrant to her lenient mistress. 'Mon Prince!' cried Wilhelmine as the woman disappeared, 'whatever thenews, you seem to show me an ugly frown. I, at least, cannot havedispleased my beloved master, for I have not left his side, and ourcommune together cannot have given him offence. ' She spoke lightly, butshe watched his Highness's stern face anxiously. It softened at herwords. 'Ah, Wilhelmine, beloved, a terrible thing has happened! And you aregravely accused. ' Then he poured forth the whole story of Ferrari'sattempt. Wilhelmine listened in silence; she knew that his accusation wasextremely serious, and the facts most difficult to explain away. To herconsternation she saw that his Highness himself half suspected her ofhaving a hand in the matter. 'Every criminal is allowed to answer his accuser, ' she said, whenEberhard Ludwig finished his narration. He started forward. 'Accuser! Wilhelmine, am I your accuser? Do you think I doubt you? but, OGod! the facts are black against you. ' 'Your words do not accuse me, Eberhard, ' she answered; 'but your eyes andthe stern soul behind them accuse me. Nay, listen; how often have youpraised me, calling me a woman of much intelligence? Now, I ask you, consider for a moment how a woman, gifted with even a spark of this sameintelligence, could act so foolishly as to have her declared enemy, theobstacle to her happiness, removed by the poignard of a servant wellknown to be in her employ? That is one plea I would put forward, Monseigneur. Then again, should I select the moment to contrive herHighness's death when the world is ringing with that preposterous Glaserstory? I am branded as a bigamist, ' she added bitterly; 'do you fancy Iwish to add the title murderess to my name?' 'But explain the circumstance of your servant being discovered, poignardin hand, lurking in the Princess Johanna Elizabetha's rooms. And oh!Wilhelmine, forgive me; but this preposterous Glaser story, as you callit, has never been properly explained. You have laughed, and I have putthe matter out of my thoughts; but now--O beloved! it is so terrible todoubt you, but----' Wilhelmine was unprepared for this retrospective attack. She hesitated, and his Highness's face grew dark. 'I really must ask you to explain, ' he said harshly, moving away fromher. 'Eberhard, ' she said brokenly, 'I sent the powder to the Duchess. ' Serenissimus started forward. 'You confess? O my God!' he cried. 'Yes; I will tell you. The powder was a harmless philtre. I brewed amagic draught which causes whoever drinks it to forget the being theylove, and become enamoured of the first person they see. O Eberhard, believe me!' 'Fairy tales!' he almost laughed. 'But why given in secret? why given atall?' he demanded. 'If she forgot you, forgot your charm, beloved, she would be happy again. I had pity on her!' It was poison she had sent, and even to herself her story seemed tooextravagant for credence. To her surprise, however, his Highness believedher in this. 'Well, and for the rest? for Ferrari's being hidden in the castle?' hequestioned. 'Call Maria and ask her if I was aware that the madman had left Urach. She can vouch that I thought him to be here. ' 'Why did he do this thing?' said the Duke. 'What explanation did he offer?' she queried hurriedly. 'That he wished to see the black rooms!' he replied. 'Well, but surely that is explanation enough? You know the man'sextraordinary love of beauty, his curious seeking for unusual furniture. He is mad, Eberhard; I tell you he is mad! We must save him from prisonand send him back to Italy. ' She spoke so naturally, so easily, that hisHighness felt that sense of the unaccustomed, the unknown evil, the grimsuspicion of crime fall away, and an immense relief take its place. 'Of course, of course!' he said hurriedly; 'I was frightened by that foolForstner. Forgive me for my insane suspicion. ' And he hastened away toassure Forstner of the sheer absurdity of this accusation. Perhaps he would have been a trifle shaken in his confidence had he seenWilhelmine fall back in her chair, breathing hard like some wild animalwho had escaped the hunter's knife by a hair's-breadth. * * * * * If Serenissimus was thus easily appeased, the authorities and citizens ofStuttgart were not to be put off with a mere tale. Also JohannaElizabetha's friends and partisans were loud in their accusations of theGrävenitz. Ferrari had been released from prison by the Duke's command. The man was mad, his Highness averred, and it was but merciful to sendhim back to Italy. It leaked out that the Italian had left Wirtemberg, but it was whispered that he carried a large sum of gold with him. 'Blood money, ' said the Stuttgarters, and their indignation grew apace. Schütz wrote from Vienna that things were going badly for the Grävenitz. The Emperor had been informed of the Ferrari affair, and was reported tohave expressed his opinion in no measured terms. In fact, Schütz stronglyadvised the Countess of Urach to leave Wirtemberg for a time, but thelady remained firm. 'Go, I will not, until I am obliged, and that is notyet, ' she declared. So the days passed as usual at Urach, outwardly. The Duke shot roebuckdaily in the early morning, the Countess often accompanying him. Later, Serenissimus would ride young and fiery horses; but in this the Countessdid not take part, she was but a poor horsewoman. Then came a deliciousbanquet, with the Countess of Urach's musicians in attendance discoursingfair melodies. During the afternoon his Highness drove eight, ten, and sometimes twelvehorses together, thundering through the country, and the peasants soonlearnt to associate their heretofore beloved ruler with clouds of dustand ruthless speed. A demon driver rushing past, who, they said, wouldcrush them were they not quick to fly to safety in their houses orfields. A demon driver with a beautiful, haughty-faced woman beside him. Verilyan appalling picture to the sleepy Swabian peasant accustomed to theheavy swaying motion of quiet oxen or laborious cart-horses. Each evening at the castle of Urach there were merry doings: dancing, cards, and music. It all seemed gay and secure enough, but there wasunrest beneath this outward peace, an anxious feeling in the revellers'hearts. Madame de Ruth chattered wittily; Zollern, gallant and wise, madesubtle ironic speeches; Wilhelmine sang, Serenissimus adored, theSittmanns and the parasites were chorus to this--a chorus a little out oftune at times, perchance, but passable. At length the imperial ultimatum arrived, and, like a card house blown bya strong man's breath, the sham court fell, and the Queen of Hearts knewthat the game was played out. 'Wilhelmine, Countess Grävenitz, masquerading under the title of Countessof Urach, is hereby declared an exile from all countries under oursuzerainty, nor can she hold property in these aforementioned countries, nor call for the law's protection. From the date of this writing she isgiven six days wherein to leave Wirtemberg. After the expiration of thisterm she must, an she remaineth in the land, stand her trial for bigamy, treason, and implication in attempted murder. '--Signed and sealed by theEmperor this. There was no possible gainsaying; already the time allotted to her forflight was exceeded, and at any moment she might be arrested by theimperial order. She fled to Schaffhausen once more, and in Stuttgart there was greatrejoicing; but the joy was dashed to the ground when the news came thatSerenissimus had also disappeared. Had he fled with his evil mistress, then? It was positively averred, however, that she had gone alone withMadame de Ruth. Witchcraft, of course! The Grävenitzin had bewitchedherself once before when she had disappeared for three days from the oldcastle. His Highness himself had said openly that she had returned to himin a flash of lightning. What more likely than that she should havespirited Serenissimus away with her to Switzerland? 'Nonsense, ' said the Duchess-mother at Stetten; 'Eberhard is roaming inthe woods, crying to the trees that he is a broken-hearted martyr!' Andshe hurried to Urach, taking up her abode in the very apartments whichWilhelmine had just vacated. It is on record that her maternal Highnesscaused the rooms to be swept and garnished, ere she entered, as thoughthey were infected with the pest. 'So they are, ' quoth thisplain-speaking dame, 'with the pest of vice!' It is to be supposed that the Duchess-mother was right in her surmiseregarding her son's forest wanderings, for a messenger arrived from Urachsaying Serenissimus would re-enter Stuttgart with his mother in a fewdays' time; which he did, and was solemnly and publicly reconciled to theDuchess Johanna Elizabetha. The grateful burghers voted their Duke a freepresent of forty thousand gulden on his return, and to his Duchess tenthousand gulden. The Duchess-mother is reported to have remarked that, of a truth, it hadbeen fitting had they paid her back a portion of the war indemnity. 'Butit does not matter, ' she said, 'so long as that absurd boy, my sonEberhard, remains at his duties in future. ' Dear, proud, sensible oldlady! God rest her well! To her mother's heart, the thirty-seven-year-oldDuke of Wirtemberg, hero, traveller, incidentally bigamist, remainedeternally 'that absurd boy, my son. ' * * * * * It was with mingled feelings that Wilhelmine at Schaffhausen heard ofEberhard Ludwig's reconciliation with his wife. Anger and scorn of theman's weakness predominated, but despair and humiliation tortured her aswell, and a profound discouragement, which the sound of the rushing, foaming Rhine falls had no power to sooth this time. The enforcedinaction was terrible to her. It was her strategy to leave his Highness'spassionate letters of excuse and explanation unanswered, and thus she hadlittle wherewith to fill the long summer days. Madame de Ruth was adelightful companion, but Wilhelmine was unresponsive and seemed absorbedin some intricate calculation. She would sit for hours, broodingsombrely. Her eyes, narrowed and serpent-like, gazed at the rushingwaters, but when Madame de Ruth remarked on the beauty of the scene shewould answer irritably that she was occupied, and only begged for quietin which to think. Towards the middle of August Schütz arrived fromVienna. He brought with him a document which he prayed Wilhelmine toconsider, and to sign if she approved. It was entitled 'Revers deWilhelmine, Comtesse Grävenitz, ' and set forth that she undertook torelinquish all claims upon the Duke of Wirtemberg and his heirs forever. That she recognised any child, born of her relationship to his Highness, to be a bastard, and that she undertook never to return to the court ofWirtemberg. If she bound herself to these conditions, the Emperor, inreturn, promised to cancel her exile from his fiefs with the soleexception of Wirtemberg. The right to hold property would be given backto her, and she would be released from suspicion of murderous intent. HisMajesty even promised her twenty thousand gulden as compensation for anywrong done to her in Wirtemberg. Wilhelmine hesitated, pondered, and finally despatched Schütz toStuttgart with a copy of the imperial document. He laid it before thePrivy Council, and stated that his client, the Countess Grävenitz, wasprepared to accept these proposals, on the condition that Wirtemberg paidher a further sum in compensation for her loss of honour, property, andprospects. The Privy Council fell into the trap. Anything to be finally rid of thedangerous woman, done with the whole noisome story. They had the exampleof Mömpelgard before them, and they feared for Wirtemberg to be involvedin a similar tangle. Now Mömpelgard, or Montbéliard, as the French-speaking court named it, was a small principality ruled by Eberhard Ludwig's cousin, Duke LeopoldEberhard of Wirtemberg, a liegeman of Louis XIV. Of France, and a man ofstrange notions. He had been reared in the religion of Mahomet, and withthe faith he held the customs of Islam. Thus he had married three womenat once, legally, as he averred; and in any case, the three wives livedin splendour at Mömpelgard's castle. These ladies had had issue, and thesuccession to the Mömpelgard honours was complicated. Naturally Stuttgart's Geheimräthe, with this cousinly example in theirminds, longed for the Grävenitz to renounce all future claims upon theDukedom of Wirtemberg, both for herself and for any issue of her'marriage' with Eberhard Ludwig. Thus when Schütz conveyed her demand for money as a condition to herrenouncement, they listened to the preposterous request, and declaredthemselves ready to pay the favourite compensation. Schütz returned toSchaffhausen with this news, and was immediately re-despatched toStuttgart with a demand for two hundred thousand gulden as the price ofher renouncement. The Geheimräthe were aghast. Twenty thousand, nay, even forty thousand, gulden they would pay, but two hundred thousand! This vast sum to bewrung out of the war-impoverished land! Impossible! Besides, it was asmuch as the marriage-portion of six princesses of Wirtemberg. The Duke was approached. He retorted that the Countess of Grävenitz wasperfectly justified in any demand she chose to make. The Duchess-motherarrived, and spoke, as usual, plainly to her son; but he had notforgotten how his mother had dragged him, like a repentant school-child, from Urach to be reconciled to Johanna Elizabetha. He owed theDuchess-mother a grudge, and paid it by remaining firm concerning thejustice of Wilhelmine's claim. The Privy Council offered her twenty thousand gulden. Then fortythousand. Both sums were refused. 'Two hundred thousand or nothing, ' sheanswered. So the negotiations were broken off. Meanwhile, had the Geheimräthe but known it, the 'Revers' had long beensigned, sealed, and despatched to Vienna. Wilhelmine again sent Schütz to Stuttgart with the message that, as shehad not been given just and fair compensation, she would know how, at afuture date, to wring out from Wirtemberg a hundred times the modest sumrefused her. The Geheimräthe, thinking their foe vanquished and the affair at an end, laughed at this threat. They would have trembled had they known that theGrävenitz had a plan, and that their Duke was cognisant of the wholematter. * * * * * Wilhelmine, gazing at the waters of the Rhine with her half-closed, serpent-like eyes, sought for some device which should enable her toreturn to Stuttgart. In the first place, she loved power; in the second, she loved Eberhard Ludwig; in the third, she yearned to outwit her enemyJohanna Elizabetha and her opposers generally. Then she longed once moreto defy the Duchess-mother, whom she, at the same time, greatly dreaded. By this you will see that Wilhelmine was no longer merely the gay, charming, if scheming woman who had come to Wirtemberg sixteen monthsbefore. She had developed. Her extraordinary prosperity had poisoned herbeing. She had grown hard. Could she not achieve the height of power byone road, very well, she was ready to climb back by any circuitous pathshe could find. For many days her ingenuity and her searchings failed toshow her any way back to Stuttgart. It was the pretext for returningwhich she sought; once there she knew she could grasp power again, andthis time she intended to retain it. A chance speech of Madame de Ruth'sset her on the track. 'Ah! my dear, we have gone too far; it is perilous to stand on the top ofthe hill; better to remain near the summit, indeed, but on some shelteredledge whence we cannot be toppled over. Had I had my way, you should havemarried some high court dignitary, and as his wife you could have ruledundisturbed. ' 'Can the wife of a court dignitary not be forbidden the court?' saidWilhelmine idly. 'Naturally, my dear! The Emperor cannot order an official of a Germanstate to remove his wife from the court where he is employed. ' 'Only the prince's wedded wife can be exiled, then?' said Wilhelminesneeringly. 'My dear! we climbed too high, alas!' Madame de Ruth replied. Her words had started Wilhelmine on a new track of thought. Married to acourtier holding high office at court, she could return and resume hercareer. But that would declare her marriage with Eberhard Ludwig to be afarce, she reflected. Still, if this were the only way? In her mentalvision she reviewed each courtier, but she could find none fitting forthe position of husband in name. Schütz perhaps? She laughed at the veryidea. No; the bridegroom must be a man of much breeding and no morals. She wrote to Schütz requesting him to journey to Schaffhausen onimportant business. The attorney arrived, and Wilhelmine observed howshabby was his coat, how rusty his general appearance. He was again thepettifogging lawyer in poor circumstances, and Wilhelmine reflected thathe would be all the more anxious to serve her in order to return to hisill-gotten splendour at her illegitimate court. Schütz responded eagerly to her proposal. He acclaimed her a marvel ofintelligence, and assured her that in Vienna he would be able to find thevery article--a ruined nobleman ready to sell his name to any bidder. On the day following Schütz's advent at Schaffhausen, Wilhelmine wassurprised by a visit from her brother Friedrich, who arrived in a deeplyinjured mood. Since Wilhelmine left Urach, he averred, he had beentreated in a manner all unfitting for an Oberhofmarshall, and the head ofthe noble family of Grävenitz. Serenissimus had paid him scant attention, and Stafforth had been reinstated as Hofmarshall to the Duchess JohannaElizabetha--a brand new dignity, complained this Oberhofmarshall of asham court. He made himself mighty disagreeable to his sister, varyinghis behaviour by outbursts of despair and noisy self-pity, which wouldhave been laughable had they not been so loud, violent, and disturbing. Wilhelmine informed him of her plan, and after many expressions ofdisapproval, when she had made it clear to him that it would be entirelyto his advantage if she succeeded in her design, he gave the ugly planhis brotherly blessing and his sanction as head of the family. Hereupon Schütz returned to Vienna to seek a bridegroom. In anastonishingly short time, he wrote that he had found an admirably adaptedperson in the Count Joseph Maria Aloysius Nepomuk von Würben, a gentlemanof very old lineage, and ex-owner of a dozen castles in Bohemia, all ofwhich, however, had gradually been converted into gulden, and the goldpieces, in their turn, had vanished into the recollection of many lostcard games. This personage, owing to his sad misfortunes, found himselfat the age of sixty inhabiting a garret in Vienna. Schütz wrote that he knew Monsieur le Comte well. They met constantly atthe eating-house. He further assured her that Würben was a very pleasantcompanion. Wilhelmine replied that it was profoundly indifferent to herwhether her future husband was an agreeable companion or not, as sheintended only to see him once--viz. , at her own marriage, after whichceremony he could follow his namesake St. Nepomuk into the waves of theMoldau, for aught she cared! It angered her that Schütz wrote concerningWürben, as though he were in truth to be the companion of her life, andshe winced under a new note of familiarity which had crept into theattorney's tone. Friedrich Grävenitz, who had taken up his abode in Wilhelmine's house atSchaffhausen, made matters worse by what he conceived to be witty andsubtle pleasantries. He was never done with his allusions to 'mon cherfutur beau frère à Vienne, ' and he playfully called his sister 'la petitefiancée. ' On a golden evening of late September, Würben, accompanied by Schütz, arrived at Schaffhausen. Wilhelmine and Madame de Ruth saw the coachcrawling up the steep incline which led to the little castle that Zollernhad given to the favourite. With difficulty Madame de Ruth had inducedWilhelmine to offer her future husband one day's hospitality. The weddingwas fixed for the morning after Würben's arrival, and the bridegroom hadagreed to return to Vienna immediately after the ceremony. 'I have the honour to present to you Monsieur le Comte de Würben!' saidSchütz, as he ushered in the noble Bohemian. Würben bowed to the ground, and Wilhelmine and Madame de Ruth bent in grand courtesies. 'Delighted to see you, mon cher! Welcome to our family!' cried FriedrichGrävenitz ostentatiously, departing entirely from the ceremonious code ofthose days, which hardly permitted the nearest friends to greet eachother in this informal manner. But Friedrich Grävenitz prided himself onhis friendliness and geniality, and, like most genial persons, heconstantly floundered into tactlessness and vulgarity. On this occasionhis misplaced affability was received with undisguised disapproval. Madame de Ruth tapped him on the arm with her fan; Wilhelmine shot him afurious, snake-like glance; Würben himself looked surprised, and merelyresponded with a bow to the effusive speech. Schütz, of course, was theonly one to whom it appeared natural, nay, correct. In his worldgeniality, translated into jocoseness, was indispensable before, during, and after a wedding--even at these scarcely usual nuptials! Now Würben came forward. 'Mademoiselle de Grävenitz, ' he said, 'believeme, I am deeply sensible of the great honour you will do me. ' 'Monsieur, I thank you, ' began Wilhelmine; but Friedrich Grävenitzinterposed pompously: 'As the head of the family, Monsieur, I wish to express to you mypleasure at the thought of my sister bearing your ancient name. ' 'My name is much at Mademoiselle your sister's service, ' respondedWürben; and Madame de Ruth surprised a covert sneer on the old roué'slips. 'Come, mes amis!' she cried, 'the travellers must be in need ofrefreshment. Will you not repair to the guest-chamber, gentlemen? andwhen you have removed the dust of travel from your clothes, we willpartake of an early supper. ' 'Madame de Ruth, I will escort the gentlemen to their apartments, if theywish it, ' said Friedrich pompously, opening his eyes wide in what hethought was a reproving look, but in truth was only angrily foolish. 'Thank you, Friedrich. I will tell you when I wish your assistance, ' saidWilhelmine calmly. 'Dear Madame de Ruth, you are right. I think BaronSchütz knows the way to the guest-chamber? or shall I tell my brother tosummon a lackey?' Her tone was haughty to insolence. The irritation, thedisgust, the hatred of her odious though necessary plan, made her moodevil. She was grateful to Würben for his silence, and his fine, ifsomewhat contemptuous manner, and she bestowed a smile on him as hepassed out of the room. A constrained silence fell on the remaining three. Wilhelmine leaned backin the chair into which she had sunk directly Schütz and Würbendisappeared; her elbows rested on the chair-arms, and her fingers werepressed together at the points in an attitude of fastidious, artificialprayer. Madame de Ruth fanned herself slowly and watched FriedrichGrävenitz, who stood paring his nails with a small file he had taken fromhis pocket. 'I certainly do not like your way towards me, Wilhelmine, ' he brokeforth, puffing out his fine torso. 'You show a spirit which is not nicetowards the head of your family! I think----' 'Dear Friedrich, if you could but realise that I do not care what youthink, ' Wilhelmine interrupted icily. 'And your manner was not kind to Würben--a nice man, I like him!' saidher brother in an almost ecstatic tone. 'How fortunate!' she called after Friedrich's retreating figure, as hestrode across the room with such pompous haste that the affairs of thewhole Empire might have waited his directions. The two ladies smiled at one another wearily when he had gone; then, without honouring this self-sufficient person with a word of comment, they fell to discussing Würben. This Bohemian nobleman was not analtogether unpleasing personality. Of middle height, he had a stoopwhich caused him to appear short; it was not the stoop of the scholar, but that bend which ill-health, caused by debauch, often gives to acomparatively young man. His face was sallow, hollow beneath the eyes, emaciated between chin and cheek-bone. The brown eyes were feverishlybright and a trifle blood-shot. The well-shaven mouth had loose, sensuallips, and the teeth were large and discoloured. And yet one knew thatthis man, repulsive though he had become, must have been a youth ofpromise and some personal beauty; and his manner betokened the man ofbreeding, and one with knowledge of the great world. His sneer at theunholy bargain he was about to make told Madame de Ruth that he was fullyaware of the degradation of it. An admirably adapted person for thepurpose, she reflected; for, being ashamed of his bargain, he would hidein Vienna, content so long as he had sufficient money to risk at l'hombreand faro. This she and Wilhelmine discussed while Schütz and Würben wereupstairs removing their dusty garments. Suddenly Friedrich Grävenitz burst into the room. 'His Highness has justridden up to the door! This is really most inconvenient, most difficultfor me. ' He spoke loudly. 'Hush! be careful! Würben must not hear, ' implored Madame de Ruth, whileWilhelmine sprang up. She breathed in laboured gasps, her eyes fixedwildly on her brother. 'His Highness? You are mad, Friedrich! or is this some absurd plotagainst me?' She turned on her brother fiercely. 'Is this somefoolishness you have arranged?' 'It has nothing to do with me. I am never consulted, ' he began; but hisfurther utterance was cut short, for Eberhard Ludwig entered unannounced. 'Leave us together, ' he said shortly. 'For God's sake, Madame de Ruth, manage that I may speak with her undisturbed. ' Madame de Ruth hurriedFriedrich Grävenitz away with scant ceremony. 'My beloved! oh, to see you again!' Serenissimus clasped her to him. 'Tell me you are mine, as you were at Urach! Am I in time to hinder thisterrible sacrilege?' She told him that the marriage had not yet taken place, that it was forthe morrow. 'It cannot be; you are my wife by the laws of God and man! I cannotsuffer you to be called the wife of another. Tell me that you will not dothis thing. Wilhelmine, my beloved, you cannot--you cannot----' He heldher hand in his, speaking rapidly, indistinctly. 'There is no other way, ' she said sadly. 'But it is not possible! You cannot, it is a shameful thing. I forbid youto do it. I will never leave you again. My son may reign at Stuttgart. See, beloved, we will live here together--live out our days in peace andlove. It shall be a poem, an idyll--far from all interruptions, far fromintrigues!' He looked into her face with shining eyes, but he found there noanswering spark of enthusiasm. Dropping her hand he turned away. She wasaghast. True, she loved Eberhard Ludwig, but she realised at that momenthow much more potent was her love of splendour and power. What! to dragout her life at Schaffhausen--even with him at her side? No, it wasimpossible. 'Eberhard, be reasonable. This marriage is no marriage, it is simply thepurchase of a name. You know well enough the conditions which areaccepted by Würben. Twenty thousand gulden on the day of our contract, twelve thousand gulden a year for his life. Various fine titles and courtcharges, provided he undertakes never to appear in Stuttgart, never toclaim his marriage rights! He is to sign this document in the presence ofthe lawyers to-morrow before our----' she hesitated, 'before ourmarriage. ' 'But you will vow before God to love and obey this man; you will give himyour hand and kneel with him in prayer. Something of the sanctity of ourtrue vows will be filched away. Sacred you are to me for ever, but oh!this will be desecration! you cannot, you must not----' he moaned. 'You knew this before. You knew and approved, and now you hinder thecompletion of the only plan by which I can return to you. You cannot giveup your Dukedom, you cannot leave Stuttgart, and we cannot live apart. 'She spoke harshly. 'But is Stuttgart so much to you? Wilhelmine, do you love me only as Dukeof Wirtemberg?' His eyes were full of tears. 'Alas! I am the mostmiserable of men. ' 'Eberhard, heart of my life, look in my face and see if I love you! Butbecause I love you I dare not take you away from your great position, from your ambition. ' 'Ambition, ' he broke in, 'ambition! I am ready to renounceeverything----' 'Will you let yourself sink into a mooning poet, my hero of greatbattles? No! you shall go back, dear love--back to your grand, soldier'slife! See, I will stay here and dream of you, if you will not let me takethe only path back to Wirtemberg. You shall write to me, sometimes sendme a poem, a jewel perhaps--but we shall be parted! O Eberhard!' Shesighed deeply, but her strange, hard eyes watched him narrowly. He turnedaway his face. She saw that her reminder of his military ambition hadsucceeded as she expected. 'You are right. Alas! this horrible degradation, this masquerading beforeGod--and yet it is the only way. ' Her arms stole round him. Against his cheek he felt her smooth skin, herwarm lips sought his. 'I love you, only you, ' she whispered. 'In a few days I follow you toStuttgart. Come to me!' He flung her from him almost roughly. 'Not now! God in heaven! not now! Can you dream that at such a time Icould? It would make the hideous bargain you contemplate to-morrow onedegree more vile. ' He turned from her and fled. In a moment she heard theclatter of his horse's hoofs in the courtyard. CHAPTER XV THE RETURN A TRAVELLING coach and six horses thundered into Stuttgart, driven at ahand gallop, and raised clouds of white dust as it passed down theGraben. An escort of Silver Guards rode with this coach. One of thesoldiers' horses knocked over a child playing in the roadway, but thecavalcade passed on unheeding, leaving the little crushed figure lyinglimp and still in the dust. The coach drew up at the Jägerhaus, where the doors stood wide open, disclosing a company of servants drawn up in solemn line. Two sentrieswere posted at either side of the entrance. A black-clad major-domo bowedon the threshold, while half a dozen lackeys sprang forward to receivethe tall woman who was slowly descending from the coach. Madame laComtesse de Würben, her Excellency the Landhofmeisterin of Wirtemberg, Countess Grävenitz, had arrived at Stuttgart to attend to the dutiesconnected with her invalid husband's court charge. This exalted lady was the first personage of the court after the reigningDuchess, and his Highness had offered her apartments in the castle, butthese were refused, her Excellency preferring to occupy an independentresidence. Thus it fell out that Wilhelmine returned to the Jägerhaus towards theend of September, some four months after she had fled from Urach, and afew days since the mock marriage with Würben, 'ce cher Nepomuk, monmari, ' as she ironically named him to Madame de Ruth. There had been grievous storms at Stuttgart during the days succeedinghis Highness's return from hunting in the Schönbuch, that shootingexpedition which had been but a pretext to leave Stuttgart and hurry toSchaffhausen, in order to hinder the celebration of the ceremony ofWilhelmine's marriage. Serenissimus returned in a mood which would brook no contradiction. Heannounced to the Geheimräthe, and to the court, that it was his pleasureto revive the ancient office of Landhofmeister, and that he had conferredthis, the highest charge of his court, upon a Bohemian nobleman of thename of Würben, but that this gentleman being seriously indisposed, hislady-wife had undertaken to fulfil the various duties ofLandhofmeisterin, and would reside at the Jägerhaus. Private informationcame to the astonished Geheimräthe that this new evil was but the oldpoison with a new label; that this Countess Würben was the hatedGrävenitzin. Bitterly they regretted their refusal of the two hundredthousand gulden, but it was too late now. To Johanna Elizabetha this announcement was made by his Highness inperson and with cruel frankness. She was told that she had refused a lifeof ease and peace, leaving his Highness to enjoy a happiness which sheherself could never have provided, and that he took this way to savehimself from despair, for without Wilhelmine he would not, nay, couldnot, live. 'You must abide by this, Madame, and if you are peaceably disposed, andbehave with becoming consideration to her Excellency theLandhofmeisterin, it will be possible for you to remain in Stuttgart, ' hetold her. Her Highness made no reply to this surprising speech, but immediatelywrote to Stetten, imploring the Duchess-mother to come and put order intothe family affairs. The dear lady arrived in high dudgeon, and accordingto her custom stated her opinion to Eberhard Ludwig in words he could notmisunderstand. But in vain, and it was a very crestfallen, angry old ladywho drove back through the fields to Stetten. The court was in a quandary, in comparison to which the formerperplexities in regard to the Grävenitzin were mere bagatelles. If theyrefused to go to court festivities where the Landhofmeisterin, after theDuchess, held the first rank, they would risk being excluded from courtperhaps for years. Again, who knew how soon the favourite might fallinto disgrace, or be banished once more by some unexpected event? Therewas much talk and fervid declarations of noble sentiments, loyalty to theDuchess, love of purity, and the rest; but when Wilhelmine invited theentire court to visit her at the Jägerhaus, on the occasion of a grandevening rout, it was noticeable that those few who did not appear sentcopious excuses, pretending illness, and adding almost medicaldescriptions of their ailments, so anxious were they that Wilhelmineshould believe them to be really indisposed! Already it was considereddangerous to offend the Grävenitzin, as they still called the Countess ofWürben, her Excellency the Landhofmeisterin, but to her face she was'your Excellency, ' and they paid her great court. Naturally the Duchess Johanna Elizabetha held aloof, but she knew shemust one day meet her rival face to face, one day take part in a courtfestivity where the woman would be only second in formal rank, in realitythe first in the estimation of all. The winter days grew short and dark, and Christmas approached. Christmasrejoicings with this sinful woman queening it at masque and dance! Evenfrom informal family gatherings the Landhofmeisterin, as first lady inthe land, could not be excluded. 'Dear and honoured Madame my Mother, ' Johanna Elizabetha wrote, 'I haveto meet this woman again. Let the first encounter not be before theworld. I will invite her to our Christmas tree. Come you too, dear Madamemy Mother, even if there is snow on the ground, to help your unhappydaughter, Johanna Elizabetha. ' Thus she wrote to the formidable dame atStetten. It must be conceded that for the favourite this family gathering to whichshe was bidden presented disagreeable prospects of extreme difficulty, and she craved Eberhard Ludwig to permit her to decline the honour, butSerenissimus implored her to consent. It would be unwise to rebuff theDuchess's overture, and after all, possibly it was her Highness'sintention to live peaceably with her husband's mistress. Other ladies haddone so. He quoted history and recent events: Louis XIV. , Louise de laVallière, and Marie Thérèse of France, and so on. Also he represented toher that the first meeting with Johanna Elizabetha would be a trifleawkward with the whole court agape, so perhaps this private familygathering was an excellent opportunity; besides, as Landhofmeisterin, itwas correct she should be included in the Petit Cercle. She mocked at the homely custom of the Christmas tree, calling itunfitting for a grand seigneur's household to indulge in suchold-fashioned peasant-like rejoicings. 'Can you dream of such a festivity at Versailles?' she asked, laughing. He told her that his mother clung to the habit. It was an ancient Germancustom thus to celebrate the Birth of Christ. 'I love the notion, too, that in all my villages the peasants can havethe same as I have, for once, poor souls!' he added simply. 'Eberhard, you are ridiculous!--yes, a ridiculous poet-fellow. But I willcome to your peasant celebration, if it pleases you. ' She was touched bythis gentle saying of his. And thus it fell out that on Christmas eve Wilhelmine ordered her coachto convey her to the castle. She drove through the snow in no happy frameof mind. Christmas trees and the favourite!--could anything be moreincongruous? and she knew it. Angrily she sneered at the simplehomeliness of the old German custom. Peasants could do these absurdities, but the Duchess of Wirtemberg? * * * * * In the long room where the madrigals had been sung on thatwell-remembered evening when Wilhelmine was installed lady-in-waiting toher Highness, a tall fir-tree was planted in a gilded barrel. A thousandtwinkling lights burned on the branches, and little trinkets dangledtemptingly. Overhead, on the topmost branch, the waxen Christmas angelwith tinsel wings hovered over this family gathering. Symbol of peace andgoodwill, this angel would look down pitifully on the men and women roundthe Christmas tree, whose hearts were full of bitterness, of envy andhatred! Lackeys were fastening candles on to the branches, and JohannaElizabetha and Madame de Stafforth were hanging up trinkets andplaythings for the Erbprinz. The Duchess-mother entered. She glanced round the room. 'Has the enemynot arrived?' she said humorously. Johanna Elizabetha sighed. 'No, she has not come yet. It is hard she should spoil our Christmas Eve;but it is better than meeting her for the first time as Landhofmeisterinwith all her friends to stare at me. ' 'She will not enjoy her evening, my dear, ' returned the Duchess-mother, with a grim smile. At this moment Eberhard Ludwig entered, leading the Erbprinz by the hand. He sometimes endeavoured to be a kind father, but it was no easy matterfor him. The Duchess-mother's face softened as she greeted her son, andbent to kiss the little boy, who scarcely responded to the old lady'sembrace. His shining, excited eyes were fixed upon the Christmas tree, and snatching his hand from the Duke's grasp, he began to dance round infrantic childish rapture. Johanna Elizabetha forgot her troubles watchingher son's joy, and she commenced cutting off the playthings for him. 'It were fitting to await our guest's arrival, Madame, before you stripthe tree, ' said the Duke coldly. 'Nonsense!' interrupted the Duchess-mother, 'surely Elizabetha can giveher child the playthings if she wishes to?' 'Her Excellency the Landhofmeisterin!' announced a page, throwing openthe door, and Wilhelmine appeared on the threshold. His Highness hurried forward to greet her, while Johanna Elizabethainstinctively drew nearer to the Duchess-mother, catching the Erbprinz bythe arm. Wilhelmine bent low in an elaborate courtesy. Her Highness held out herhand shyly for her rival to kiss. The Duchess-mother watched the comedyfor an instant, then turning to the Duke who stood behind Wilhelmine, nervously fingering his rapier-hilt, she said: 'Serenissimus will have the kindness to present to me theLandhofmeisterin, as I have not the pleasure to know her. ' 'Madame, my mother permits me--This is Madame la Comtesse de Würben, Landhofmeisterin, ' he stammered, and the Duchess-mother threw him acontemptuous glance. 'Ah, Madame de Würben! how sad it must be for you to be obliged to leaveyour husband in Bohemia, ' she said. 'Have you good news of him now? I amso interested in illness. Tell me exactly what ails poor Count Würben. ' Wilhelmine stared at this formidable dame in consternation. Würben'sfictitious ailments were difficult to name. 'He suffered--from--from--smallpox some years ago, your Highness, and hasnever recovered his health, ' she said haltingly. 'Ah! smallpox; yes, indeed, a terrible malady, and but too common. Didyour husband contract it at the same time as you did, Madame? I see youmust have been a great sufferer, ' said the Duchess-mother, fixing hersharp brown eyes on the few hardly distinguishable pockmarks onWilhelmine's face. The favourite flushed. 'I was not married to Monsieur de Würben at that time, your Highness, 'she answered. 'Oh, indeed! Madame, forgive me; I did not know how long you had beenmarried. Have you any children, Madame de Würben? No? Ah, a sad pity! Thelittle ones would doubtless have been a consolation to you while you areforced to be absent from your husband; but perhaps we may have thepleasure of seeing Monsieur de Würben in Stuttgart before long?' 'I do not know, your Highness, ' said Wilhelmine shortly. Each word theDuchess-mother spoke cut her to the quick, and she hated the tall, gauntold lady as even she had never hated before. 'Well, I hope for you sake, Madame, your husband will be able to residehere soon. It is hard for a young woman to be alone. And besides, reallyyou should pray for a son to succeed to the Würben family honours. I usedto know a Count Würben at Vienna many years ago. A Count NepomukWürben--'Nepi, ' they called him--perhaps an uncle of your husband's?' 'That is my husband's name, your Highness, ' replied Wilhelmine in atoneless voice. 'Impossible! Why, the man I mean will be sixty years old by now, and hedisgraced himself and squandered a fortune. No; that man cannot be yourhusband, dear Madame! I heard he had made a fearful marriage--someadventuress who had amassed money and wished for an old and honourablename. It interests me much; pray ask your husband if that Würben was acousin of his. A disagreeable subject though, for, of course, no noblemanwould care to own so vile a person as cousin. ' Wilhelmine threw up her head proudly. 'Your Highness, Count NepomukWürben is my husband, and I must request you not to criticise him in mypresence. ' Her spirit pleased the Duchess-mother, who replied in a different tone:'That then, Madame, is your misfortune. We will not mention it again. ' Eberhard Ludwig during this painful scene stood in embarrassed, angrysilence. He durst not interfere, for knowing his mother's character, hewas well aware that any intervention on his part would only draw downupon Wilhelmine a flood of free-spoken remarks. Meanwhile the other members of her Highness's intimate circle had enteredfrom a small withdrawing-room, leading out of the larger apartment. The Stafforths, Madame de Gemmingen, a young gentleman of the household, Monsieur de Röder, and the Erbprinz's governor, Monsieur le Baron deWalchingen, his tutor, and various other unimportant persons. The Duke'smother and Wilhelmine stood together in the centre of this group. Theolder woman wore the sombre garb of a widow's mourning, which she hadnever put off since Duke Wilhelm Ludwig's death thirty years ago. Wilhelmine was dressed, as usual, in delicate yellow brocade withprofusely powdered hair and flashing jewels. They made a strikingcontrast--sober sadness and old age, radiant youth and brilliant, lavishjoy. And near by was Johanna Elizabetha, clad in dull, unnoticeablegarments of grey blue silk. To Eberhard Ludwig the group was symbolic ofhis life's history, and he sighed heavily as he turned to greet Madame deStafforth. The Erbprinz, attracted by Wilhelmine's beautiful face and brightclothes, had begged a paper flower from the Christmas tree and offeredit to her. Partly because she loved to tease children, partly because thechild's talk made a diversion from the Duchess-mother's acid remarks, Wilhelmine began bantering with the little boy, telling him the wildesttales, witty absurdities, sheer delightful fooling. The Erbprinz, accustomed to Johanna Elizabetha's prim stories always adorned withobvious moral endings, acclaimed Wilhelmine's phantasies withenthusiastic cries, begging her to tell him more. He was fascinated, half-afraid, puzzled, excited. Johanna Elizabetha watched this pair withjealous, disapproving eyes, and several times called the child away; buthe shook his head, and holding on to Wilhelmine's gown looked up into herface in rapturous enjoyment and admiration of this beautiful new beingand her wonderful stories. At length her Highness could bear it nolonger. She approached the strangely assorted couple, and drawing theErbprinz to her she tried to fix his attention upon the burning candlesand glittering toys on the tree. But the boy pushed her from him; hewanted to hear the lovely lady's stories; they were much finer than anyhis mother ever told him, he said. Johanna Elizabetha could stay andlisten too, if she liked, but she must not interrupt, he commanded. Hestruggled from his mother's encircling arm and, drawing near thefavourite, he leaned his head against her, nestling close. Wilhelmine, really touched by the child's confiding ways, bent down to him andslipped her arm round his shoulders. At this moment the Duchess-mother turning, saw the unexpected sight ofher grandson in the embrace of the Grävenitz. She looked at them withstern disapproval. The Erbprinz lifted his hand and stroked Wilhelmine'sface. This was too much for Johanna Elizabetha. She sprang forward like atigress defending her young, and snatched the boy away from Wilhelmine. Immediately the delicate, over-excitable child set up a wailing cry; hewanted to stay with the lovely lady who told such diverting stories, hesaid. Johanna Elizabetha in vain endeavoured to soothe him. Now theDuchess-mother bore down on the group and commenced rating the child forhis disobedience. Johanna Elizabetha, emboldened by the old lady'sapproach, turned fiercely upon Wilhelmine. 'You have frightened my boy with your horrible stories!' she cried, anddragged the wailing Erbprinz towards the door; but he resisted manfully, crying that he would stay with the lovely lady. His granddame caught him, and bestowed a ringing box on his ear. The child raised a very tempest ofsobs, and flinging off his mother's arm, fled howling towards Wilhelmine. Johanna Elizabetha, beyond herself with anger and disgust, horrified atthe notion of the child being brought into contact with the woman sheregarded as debased, rushed forward and, pulling the child violentlyaway, she cried wildly-- 'Do not touch her; it is not fitting!' Eberhard Ludwig, who had been conscientiously conversing with the fewguests, hurried up. 'What is this?' he asked angrily. 'Madame, why does your son howl like abeggar's brat?' The Duchess-mother came forward. 'A sorry spectacle, indeed, ' she saidgrimly. 'The Landhofmeisterin, not being used to children, has frightenedthe Erbprinz. ' 'Monseigneur, ' broke in Wilhelmine, white to the lips, 'I cravepermission to depart at once. I am not well. ' 'Not well, Madame?' cried the Duke in an anxious tone; 'let me escort youimmediately to your coach. ' Wilhelmine bowed to the two Duchesses, but her salute remainedunacknowledged. A petty social annoyance, a commonplace occurrence of disagreeableimport, a moment's pique, have often brought about historic changes, thereal cause whereof lies deep in the secret working of men's hearts andcan only be understood by each one to himself. Thus in Wirtemberg'seighteenth-century record, the homely, unpleasant, trifling scene onChristmas Eve wrought a change in the history, destined to influence theaffairs of the country for many years. The Grävenitz returned to the Jägerhaus profoundly humiliated, deeplywounded. The Duchess-mother's remarks had been embarrassing and painful;each word as a finger of scorn pointed at that disgraceful bargain withWürben, at the recollection whereof Wilhelmine winced. But when JohannaElizabetha snatched the Erbprinz away from her as though her very touchwas contamination for the child, her whole being had shuddered with theignominy. She knew herself to be accounted vile, one of the outcasts fromwhose proximity every virtuous woman must shrink and instinctively seekto protect all she loves, all she esteems pure. There is a terribleanguish to the outcast woman in this withdrawal from her of a child. Suddenly, she learns to measure her shame with a new gauge: by the loftyinstinct of a mother's reverence for her child's fair innocence. Then thepariah realises that she is thrust beyond the pale of human purity. Shehas chosen the black mud of vice as her portion, and her presence reeks;she is tainted, and may not approach the pure. If in the stillness of that Christmas night Wilhelmine, realising this, agonised, as countless women have realised and suffered, the next morningshe showed no sign of the night's anguish. Unless her mood of unrelentingdecision was the outcome thereof. She had decided to present to Eberhard Ludwig two alternatives: eitherJohanna Elizabetha must retire to a dower-house, leaving the favouritemistress of Stuttgart, or the court of Wirtemberg must follow their Dukeand the Landhofmeisterin to Tübingen, Urach, or wherever it suited her todirect, leaving the Duchess in a mournful, deserted Stuttgart. In any case, it must be provided that no possibility should exist of anhumiliation such as she had suffered on the preceding evening. And as sheintended to remain at the head of Wirtemberg's court, it was imperativeJohanna Elizabetha should be removed. Murder no longer being politic--theEmperor had frightened the Grävenitz off that track--it remained todevise some other scheme whereby the Duchess could be renderedunobnoxious. Upon Eberhard Ludwig's arrival at the Jägerhaus, he was immediatelyinformed of his mistress's decision. Again a small event precipitated theformation of an important plan. Johanna Elizabetha had wept incessantlyduring the Christmas Eve supper, and the Duchess-mother's sharp tonguehad rasped the Duke's irritable nerves till he had lost control of histemper and had roughly bidden his wife and mother to leave him in peace. There had followed a painful scene. Thus his Highness was well disposedtowards any scheme which would release him from his inharmonious familycircle. Yet he hesitated to acquiesce in the daring project of the entireremoval from Stuttgart of court and government. Wirtemberg had beengoverned at Stuttgart, and the chief ducal residence had been there sincethe twelfth century. As to Johanna Elizabetha's retirement to adower-house he reminded Wilhelmine that the proposal had been made, andthat the Duchess's answer was decisive: so long as she did not mourn herhusband's death she would remain in residence at Stuttgart's castle. TheDuke added that he had no power to force her to leave. Serenissimus and the Landhofmeisterin were together in the famous yellowdamask room of the Jägerhaus. The blue-tiled stove radiated a pleasantwarmth, and from the windows the lovers could see the snow-coveredGraben, the main thoroughfare of the town. The cheerful jingle ofsleigh-bells rang out as the peasants' sledges glided over the snow. TheChristmas Day service in the Leonards Kirche had ended, and thetraditional dole of silver pieces had been distributed in the Duke'sname, an old custom of mediæval times. It was one of those absolutely still winter mornings, so fraught withpeace, so purified by the great white silence of snow. Something of theartificial elegance, the stilted formality of the eighteenth century withits scrupulous apeing of French airs, mannerisms, and vices, seemed tofall from the lovers in the Jägerhaus, and for an hour they dreamed ofsimple natural homely peace. Alas! their dream was of such a lifetogether. Like most dreams it was based on an impossibility. A peasant couple in a sledge passed the window. The man, a sturdy, thick-set figure in the Wirtemberg peasant's short, well-fitting, dark-blue coat, adorned with rows of round knob silver buttons. He wore apeaked fur cap drawn down over the ears. The woman was in a thick bluefrieze cape and elaborate Sunday headdress. She had slipped her handthrough her husband's arm and they were talking gaily together. EberhardLudwig pointed towards them and a sigh escaped his lips. 'There is the peace of two loving hearts. They are happier than we, fortheir love is duty, their duty love, ' he said sadly. 'Alas!' she answered; but she knew that for her such peace was not, andthat she would not have wished for it; yet a regret smote her, a yearningto be all she was not. And with this pang came the bitter recollection ofher painful humiliation. Her face hardened. 'That happiness is onlypossible in the protection of the strong, ' she said. 'Do you think yonderpeasant would suffer his beloved to be scorned, to be insulted? The Dukeof Wirtemberg alone cannot protect the woman he loves. ' Eberhard Ludwig drew back from her. 'How cruel you are, dear heart, ' he said, and a great sadness lay in hisvoice. She told him that the truth was often cruel to hear; that she butspoke these things because he let himself drift into weak conniving atthe intrigues of Johanna Elizabetha. Then she recounted the petty spiteand the thousand taunts to which she was subjected. She painted Stuttgartin sombre colours, the dullness, the stiffness. Why should Wirtemberg bethe least brilliant, least gay, of all the German courts? She talked ofBerlin and the splendours of the newly made King Frederick I. Of Dresdenwith the Elector-King of Poland, Augustus the Strong; of his splendidresidence, the Zwinger, which, like an enchanted palace, had been builtin so short a span, and to whose marvels each day was added a wonderfulchamber, a gilded dome, or a fair work of art. Why should not peace and happiness reign in Wirtemberg with splendour andgaiety? Why should not a gracious palace rise to rival even the gloriesof Versailles? She drew the picture with sure strokes, each word an addedcolour in the vision of a life of tranquil yet brilliant ease anddistinguished magnificence. Eberhard Ludwig, caught by the flame of her eloquence, flared intoenthusiasm, and they fell to discussing which town or castle should bethe chosen spot for their new court. Urach, Tübingen, Wildbad, all werereviewed. They spoke no longer of whether the great flitting should takeplace; it was now merely a question of where and how it should beaccomplished. From which it may be seen that Wilhelmine, as usual, hadwon the day. CHAPTER XVI LUDWIGSBURG 'And pile him a palace straight, to pleasure the Princess he loved. ' ABT VOGLER. FIVE leagues north of Stuttgart, in the heart of the forest, stood thesmall hunting castle, the Erlachhof, whither Eberhard Ludwig often fledfrom the world and for many peaceful days lived the life of hunter. Inthese woods he wandered in early spring, here on summer nights he hadslept beneath the trees, dreaming the dreams of his poet nature. The Erlachhof had been greatly rebuilt, his Highness having commandedmany alterations and improvements in the old castle. Since the year 1704the various works had progressed right well. The gardens were alreadyfamous far and wide, and all Europe had added to their wealth: tulipsfrom Holland, carnations and roses from France, oleanders andpassion-flowers from Italy, while Spain had furnished orange-trees andmyrtles. And here it was that Wilhelmine decided the great palace shouldbe built. The Erlachhof, from a gentle, simple, old-world German maiden, was to betransformed into a queen among palaces. Thus the daring favourite willedit: a princely pleasure-house to rival Versailles. The Italian architect Frisoni was called. An artist of no mean merit, andpupil of Jules Hardouin Mansard, the chief architect of Versailles, whereFrisoni had worked at the plans together with his master. The Italianarrived: a small, dapper man, ridiculous in his huge powdered wig, hislittle brown monkey face peering out of the curled white locks. HerExcellency desired a palace on the same model as the fine French palazzo?Nothing easier! No? An original design, then, but of that style? Ah! morefacile still! Cost? A trifle to so noble and magnificent a prince asMonseigneur Altissimo the Duke of Wirtemberg. One almost expected thevast structure to rise from the ground in a night, so easy did it seemfrom the man's account! The German gentlemen employed at the Erlachhof were deposed from power, and their dominion given over to Frisoni. Never was there such a stir inWirtemberg. All the quarries rendered stone. Each village sent its mostskilled workmen, and Frisoni despatched messengers to Italy to summon allthe disengaged talent to the tremendous enterprise. In swarms theyarrived--black-browed, olive-skinned, chattering like apes. And thelittle monkey in the flowing white peruke took direction. But first, thespiritual needs of the workmen must be considered; and the Grävenitz, raging with impatience in Stuttgart, was forced to look on while aCatholic chapel was built near the Erlachhof, ere ever the palace wasbegun. The Wirtemberg workmen murmured, grumbled, finally mutinied. They wouldnot work with chattering idolaters. 'Let them go, the German louts, ' said Frisoni; 'I have better workmen inItaly. ' So a new army arrived. 'Popery in our midst! The witch is bringing back Antichrist toWirtemberg!' said Stuttgart. The Geheimräthe informed Serenissimus that Frisoni's monetary demandswere excessive. Forstner was despatched to look into the affair. He wasappointed Grand Master of the works. Frisoni raged. The gulden had a wayof flowing into Forstner's pocket, and, so Frisoni vowed, but few cameout again. Constantly the Duke and the Landhofmeisterin thundered up to theErlachhof in their coach and six. Three times a week the favourite flewinto a passion and rated Forstner for the tardiness of the building. Hereferred her to Frisoni, who referred her back to the Grand Master of theworks. The plans were completed, the men worked hard, yet delays werefrequent, he owned; but the builders, knowing themselves worthy of theirhire, struck work when they went unpaid. 'Unpaid?' roared the Duke; 'when I have disbursed four hundred thousandgulden?' 'Look into the matter, your Highness, and you will know, ' answered thearchitect. Forstner was arraigned at Stuttgart. He arrived, accompanied by asecretary and several big ledgers. The accounts seemed in order, certainly. 'Justice!' implored poor Forstner, 'for my honour as a gentleman!' 'Ask the workmen!' shrieked Frisoni, and they summoned a deputation ofthe Italian stone-cutters. They swore they had not been paid for months. The Madonna and all the saints knew how they starved. 'Where _is_ the money?' asked the perplexed Duke, and was answered by somany contending truths from each side that he could but be aware thatsome one, many, or all parties were lying. Obviously some one must be removed in order to simplify this tangle, butwho? 'Who is guilty?' mourned Serenissimus. The Landhofmeisterin'sargument was clear enough: 'We cannot waste time in seeking the criminal. Some one has to disappear from the scene; exit therefore the leastuseful! Probably Frisoni lies, but he is an admirable architect. Surelythe Italian workmen lie; they do not look like starving creatures, butthey are wonderful masons. Forstner is of no use to me; on the contrary, he incommodes me with his virtuous reasonings. Therefore, exit Forstner!' 'My honour is wounded, I will depart!' wailed this estimable personage;and he forthwith craved Eberhard Ludwig's permission to leave Wirtemberg. 'God speed you hence!' cried the Landhofmeisterin; and Forstner departed, thinking he went of his own free will. 'My four hundred thousand gulden!' bewailed Serenissimus. 'Procure more from the Geheimräthe, and refuse to pay arrears to theworkmen, ' counselled Wilhelmine. Which course being adopted andpeacefully accepted by the Italians, it would look as though they had, intruth, received their due. But no one has ever known where went the fourhundred thousand gulden. Forstner retired to Strassburg, and for several years there was no wordof him. The building at the Erlachhof went on apace now. Gulden flowed regularlyand without stint, and each day more foreigners arrived to give theirtalents in return for broad gold pieces. Painters, sculptors, gilderscame from north and south, and the Wirtembergers looked on aghast. Thenwas issued an astounding order. His Highness commanded some seven hundredof Stuttgart's rich merchants and burghers, also each trade guild in thecountry, to construct at their expense a number of houses near theErlachhof. In this arbitrary decree, for the first time, the new palacewas officially styled Ludwigsburg, after its lavish creator, EberhardLudwig. The guilds of trade protested loudly, asking what it would advantage themto have houses in Ludwigsburg. The merchants and burghers followed suit. They received scant consideration of their protest. If they would notobey, his Highness would find himself compelled to levy a tax upon them. A tribute so exorbitant as to cripple them for years; whereas did theyobey, he promised to purchase each mansion which the builder did notdesire to inhabit. It was the better way, and forthwith the buildingbegan. But there was a further clause in the ducal mandate: the housesmust be constructed according to Frisoni's plans and drawings, approvedby his Highness. Again the burghers protested, but they were silenced bythe Duke's promise to purchase. Not only was a magnificent palace to be erected, but a town was to beconjured up as well, and from Frisoni's plans it appeared that it was tobe a town of courtiers' houses. Bitter discontent reigned at Stuttgart, and the guards round the Jägerhaus were doubled. But there was rejoicing in the Grävenitz camp. Things were goingadmirably for the satellites, the grasping, hungry parasites. Madame deRuth and Zollern alone might have spoken some moderating word, but theold courtesan was swept off her feet by Wilhelmine's brilliancy, andZollern dreamed of Ludwigsburg as a new Catholic centre. Time did not hang heavy on Wilhelmine's hands during the years whichelapsed ere the Corps de Logis and the two small pavilions atLudwigsburg were completed. In spite of the frantic haste with which thework was carried on, it was found impossible for the Duke to take up hisresidence in his new palace till the spring of 1711. Meanwhile a new project engrossed the Landhofmeisterin's attention. Although she fully intended to occupy the palace itself, she deemed itexpedient to possess an independent castle at Ludwigsburg, and on thefoundations of the Schafhof, another small hunting lodge near the oldErlachhof, she caused a miniature summer palace to be erected. This shenamed La Favorite. It was constructed according to a plan in Mansard's'Châteaux Joyeux. ' The Schafhof had been connected with the Erlachhof by a magnificentavenue of chestnut-trees, which remained for the most part intact savewhere a few trees had been cut to leave space for the fine terracing onthe north side of the new Corps de Logis of Ludwigsburg. Still there wasa shady avenue, commencing from the lowest terrace and following thegentle rise of the ground up to the Schafhof. This avenue she of courseretained, merely causing the branches to be cut back, in order to leavean unbroken view of La Favorite from the windows of the Corps de Logis. A host of gardeners laboured at the wood round the Châteaux Joyeux, turning the rough ground into a series of gracious flowering parterres. The interior of Wilhelmine's little palace was a dream of beauty. Everyroom was panelled in white, and each panel encircled by a graceful designin gold, which terminated in gorgeous devices on the ceilings. For themost part the rooms were curtained with the Grävenitz yellow. The floorswere a triumph of the wood-inlayer's art, the chairs and tables were ofgilt or of inlaid rosewood. It was a house of sunshine: all Wilhelmine'swindows looking full southward or westward, while on the colder north andeast sides were the domestics' apartments. At length, in the July of 1711, the Corps de Logis and the smalladjoining pavilions were ready for occupation, and the long eastern andwestern side-wings were so nearly completed that it was possible to lodgethe chief personages of the court, and the army of serving men andwomen. The garden terracing was terminated, and the water for thenumerous fountains laid on. La Favorite was ready for its capricious namesake, and the town ofLudwigsburg counted some two hundred new houses. The old posting inn, formerly a dilapidated peasant's habitation, barnlike and unpromisingenough to the traveller, had become a fine mansion with many guestchambers. The peasant innkeeper, who regarded every foreigner as anintruder, was replaced by a magnificent gentleman with condescendingmanners. Enterprising venders of all sorts hurried to the new centre of opulence. Already an obsequious personage from Paris had taken up his abode in aroom of one of the new houses, and a painted board hanging from hiswindow informed the passers-by that he was permitted to style himselfCoiffeur to her Excellency the Landhofmeisterin, to Serenissimus theDuke, and to the court in general. Along with this gentleman arrivedseveral spruce ladies, one of whom was reported to be his wife, butopinions varied as to which of the eight possessed this honour. Thesedemoiselles were expert dressmakers, and plied many other tradesnecessary for the beautifying of court ladies. A French corset-makerappeared on the scene, and a famous vender of cosmetics. In fact, therewere not wanting all the elements which must ever be at hand for servingthe whimsies and necessities of noble dames. The titles of these courtpurveyors were in the Landhofmeisterin's keeping, and were onlyprocurable by payment of a good round sum. * * * * * The sun was sinking in a glory over the grim mount of Hohenasperg, thatsinister, frowning fortress-prison which threatened conveniently near toLudwigsburg, ready to lodge those unfortunate enough to incur thedispleasure of Serenissimus, or, more accurately, of her Excellency theLandhofmeisterin. The departing sun left a flaming radiancy which hungover the 'mansardé' roofs of Ludwigsburg, and was reflected again andagain in the waters of the hundred garden fountains. All day a hurrying stream of vehicles had rumbled into the courtyard, setting down the servants and effects of his Highness of Wirtemberg, andof the lady who ruled his destiny. Frisoni was in a mighty pother; he ranround the room excitedly, moving a chair, smoothing out a fold in thecurtains, drawing a table to another position. He hopped hither andthither like some gay little monkey. Suddenly a tremendous shout went upfrom the three thousand Italian workmen who had been permitted toassemble near the gilded gates to witness the arrival of the court. First came a large detachment of the Silver Guard, which were to take upquarters in the newly completed barracks at Ludwigsburg. Then followed acompany of Cadets à Cheval, two hundred youths of noble family attired incrimson uniforms with black velvet slashings and silver braidings. Afterthese rode an hundred equerries to his Highness, uniformed in light bluewith silver facings. Then came a file of richly painted coaches conveyingthe holders of court charges, each coach escorted by four mountedtroopers. Then the musicians on white horses with gorgeous red velvet andgold trappings. A second detachment of the Silver Guard numbering aboutfive hundred, and at last the great gilded coach and six hove into sight. On both sides rode Cadets à Cheval, their ordinary crimson and blackslashed uniforms embellished by short cloaks of silver cloth, which fellfrom each youth's shoulders on to the horse's haunches. In the coach sathis Highness on the left, and the Landhofmeisterin on the right, the seatwhich custom, etiquette, and morality set apart for the Duchess, who, poor soul, mourned in solitude at Stuttgart, while her place in thepageant was taken by the beautiful, evil woman, Wilhelmine von Grävenitz. But oh! how lovely she was, this adventuress! She looked indeed wellfitted to be the chief personage of this magnificence. Her garments, asusual, were of golden yellow; on her flowing, powdered curls she wore alittle round hat with a waving white plume, fastened by a diamond clasp. On her breast glittered the broad riband and the white enamel stag, whoseantlers bore the diamond cross of the order of St. Hubertus. The littlehat was strangely like a crown; the baton of the Landhofmeisterin'soffice, which she held in her hand, resembled a sceptre: it was of gold, and ablaze with precious stones. A travesty, no doubt, an absurdity, aninsolence, but how fine it all looked! The Duke wore a white satinlong-coat, embroidered with gold, and on his breast shone the St. Hubertus stag and cross. Truly the prince of some fable, seated beside agorgeous princess. Behind the golden coach followed two hundred life guards, uniformed inwhite and silver, and with drawn swords. Then came his Highness's forestguards, in green, with silver bandoliers and hunting horns, each with thewhite St. Hubertus stag and cross embroidered large upon the breast. After these rode the court pages, the Duke's secretaries, the officers ofthe household. And finally, three companies of the Wirtemberg regimentswhich had fought at Blenheim under Eberhard Ludwig. A crowd of peasants from neighbouring villages had gathered outside thegates of Ludwigsburg; they raised a shout when they saw their Duke. Hebowed, and the Landhofmeisterin also bent her head in dignifiedsalutation. Immediately the shouting ceased, and a low ominous groan wentup, intermingled with sibilant hissings. Wilhelmine grew pale, and shot aglance of hatred towards the peasants. His Highness spoke rapidly in alow tone to the cadet who rode at his elbow. The youth galloped backalong the line of the cortège, and delivered an order to the captain ofthe 1st Regiment of Wirtemberg Cavalry. And as the gilded coach rolled inat the palace gates, Wilhelmine heard with satisfaction the howls andcurses of the peasant crowd, which was being dispersed by the soldiers'swords. When the Landhofmeisterin entered the palace of Ludwigsburg, the militarybrass instruments and drums in the courtyard ceased playing, and as thelovers passed over the threshold a strain from graceful, delicate, stringed instruments greeted them. 'Welcome to our house of harmony!' whispered Serenissimus, bending tokiss his mistress's hand. Slowly and with dignity they were led by Frisoni through the beautifulrooms--the huge, gilded banqueting hall, the ball-rooms, thewithdrawing-rooms, the picture-gallery, the audience-chamber, thecard-rooms, the theatre. The little Italian caught the note ofWilhelmine's ceremony, and he showed Ludwigsburg to her as though shewere a princess bride, entering for the first time the palace of her newdominions, instead of an enterprising mistress, part designer and whollyinspirer of each nook and corner of a nation's ruin in stone and marble. They passed up the broad white marble staircase, and Frisoni solemnlyconducted them to his Highness's private apartments--the antechamber, theaudience-closet, the writing-room, and the sleeping-room. 'The apartments of her Excellency are situated in the west pavilion. Ifyour Highness wishes to inspect them we must pass downstairs once more, to gain the entrance to the pavilion, ' he said gravely. Eberhard Ludwig, smiling, bade him lead the way, though, of a truth, heknew a shorter way by a small door leading through the statue gallerydirectly from his apartments to the decorously closed pavilion. In solemn procession, Serenissimus leading the Landhofmeisterin, precededby Frisoni as guide, passed down the chief stair, and from the lowerantehall to the door of the west pavilion. Here were the apartments ofthe great Landhofmeisterin. On the ground floor the room for her personalattendant, the wardrobe-room, her Excellency's library and business-room, where the various affairs of the Landhofmeisterin's office were to betransacted. Then up a narrow stair to the first floor to a largeantechamber, a sleeping-room, a private writing-room, and above anothersmall stair leading to the powdering-room. All these rooms were little masterpieces of various arts, chief amongwhich that of the wood-inlayer--the floors, the walls, the doors beingprofusely inlaid with precious woods. Everywhere the arms of Wirtembergwere interwoven with the Würben and Grävenitz devices, and with theemblems of the chase and of music--symbols of the Duke-hunter and hisbeloved musician-mistress. The courtiers who followed his Highness and the Landhofmeisterinexpressed their admiration discreetly, Zollern and Madame de Ruth leadingthe chorus of approval. At length the ceremonious inspection was concluded, and the courtiershurried away to view their own quarters, leaving her Excellency in thepavilion, and Serenissimus in his sumptuous Corps de Logis. When the courtiers' steps ceased to echo in the corridor, Wilhelmine drewa little golden key from her bosom and, approaching a panel in theantechamber wall on the first floor, fitted it into a keyhole which wasartfully hidden in the intricacies of the inlaid design. She turned thelock and a small door flew open. She stepped through and found herself inthe corridor of statues. Directly facing the hidden panel door she foundanother similar lock masked beneath the outstretched hand of one of themany plaster Amorini. Here again a small door sprang open beneath hertouch, and she entered the Duke's sitting-room. Her entry, however, wasfurther hidden by an arras of Gobelin tapestry fitted on a woodenpartition running down one side of his Highness's room. At the endnearest the entrance to his sleeping-chamber, a small portion of thispartition flew back upon touching a spring, and revealed a narrowdoorway. Little wonder that both Eberhard Ludwig and Wilhelmine smiledwhen the Italian conducted them down and up the staircases and throughinnumerable rooms ere they reached the apartments of theLandhofmeisterin! Serenissimus was standing at the window of his writing-room overlookingthe courtyard. In his hand was a closely written page, and his face worea look of distress and perplexity. He turned sharply when he heardWilhelmine's step, and, flushing deeply, he crushed the paper into thebreast of his coat. She was quick to note the movement, and the Duke'sevident embarrassment. 'A letter, Monseigneur, which you would hide from me?' she said. Likemost women in illegitimate positions she was easily suspicious, and allletters, petitions, every scrap of paper destined for her lover, werecarried for inspection to the omnipotent Landhofmeisterin ere they werepermitted to reach their destination. 'Yes, Madame, a letter from a private friend, ' returned the Duke, hisembarrassment turning to anger. 'Ah! something not intended for me? I crave your Highness's forgiveness. I came to say a word of my great happiness in being indeed installed inour House of Harmony, ' she sneered bitterly, and turning, would havehurried back to her apartments; but Serenissimus followed her, and layinghis hand on her arm drew her towards him. 'There are things in each life which can never be told. Beloved, there isa seal on my lips which honour has impressed with her fair image. Icannot tell you what is in this letter. Believe me, it is no pleasantthing that I hide from you; it would not make you happy to read theselines. Also, they are unimportant, for I do not heed them. ' She prayed him to tell her. How could she rest if she knew he had athought apart from her? It gave her anxiety, she said, that it wassomething disagreeable. She used all her arts of attraction, ofseduction, but he remained obdurate. Then she flamed into anger and lefthim with a bitter word. To celebrate his Highness's entry into Ludwigsburg, a masked ball hadbeen commanded to take place on the evening following the arrival of thecourt. The Duke and his mistress met at supper after the episode of theletter, but the Landhofmeisterin avoided his Highness's eye and seemedabsorbed in conversation with Zollern. During the evening she played faroat her own table, and early took her leave, pleading that she wasfatigued. On the morning of the masked ball his Highness attended astag-hunt, and thus it fell out that he and Wilhelmine did not meet todiscuss the vexed question of the letter. The beautiful ballroom at Ludwigsburg was brilliantly illuminated by athousand waxen tapers which burned in the huge crystal chandeliers. TheLandhofmeisterin's own musicians discoursed rhythmical strains from thegallery, and a gay motley crowd moved on the inlaid polished floor. Therewere dominoes of every colour, bizarre, fantastic shapes; and somehowthis masked assemblage had a strangely sinister appearance, a mysteriouslurking menace seemed to emanate from it. The Landhofmeisterin was easily recognisable from her great height. For amoment she had contemplated dressing in man's clothes, but Serenissimushad dissuaded her. The Duke's domino was of 'Grävenitz yellow' of thesame hue as that of the Landhofmeisterin. Madame de Ruth had refused togo masked. 'My old face is mask enough, ' she said; and Zollern, delighted to escapethe ordeal of a travesty, had declared he would keep his old friendcompany. So the two sat together and made merry over the grotesqueappearance of the other guests. At first, many had approached the undominoed couple and, under cover ofcarnival licence, some had ventured to say sharp things to the oldcourtesan, but each in turn retired discomfited before the sting ofMadame de Ruth's quick wit. The Landhofmeisterin stood near to herfriend. She felt strangely lonely in this disguised crowd, andSerenissimus held aloof from her. She saw him exchanging compliments witha light blue domino, from whose supple movements Wilhelmine guessed to bea young and graceful woman. A sudden wave of jealous fear invaded the Landhofmeisterin's heart. Andleaving her safe place behind Madame de Ruth and Zollern, she walked outinto the crowd of revellers. Instantly several masks left the dancing, laughing, whirling main stream and approached the newcomer. 'Fair mask, come tread a measure!' 'Do you seek love or amusement here?' and manyother meaningless absurdities were squeaked into her ear by some unwaryones who had not recognised the much-feared Landhofmeisterin in the tallyellow-clad figure. She shot a glance of contempt at her interlocutorsand pushed past them. Of a sudden she was surrounded by a circle ofred-garbed gnomes who danced round her. 'Let me pass, good people, ' shesaid; and when they would not, she broke through the chain of their armsand hurried on. They would have followed, but a black mask caught theringleader and whispered in his ear, and the laughing gnomes fell backmurmuring together. The Duke was still dallying with the blue domino; Wilhelmine saw him leadher to one of the windows which opened out on to the terraces. Shefollowed swiftly, hardly hearing the comments and whispers of therevellers who took this occasion to convey insulting words to the hatedwoman. As she reached the window in whose balcony she knew her lover tobe, she felt a hand on her arm. She turned angrily. 'What do you want? how dare you hinder me?' she said. It was a tall, thindomino who accosted her, entirely black, and with a skull and crossbonesembroidered in white upon the breast. A startling figure, and toWilhelmine's overwrought nerves it seemed to be the figure of Death cometo snatch her life's glory and happiness from her in this her triumph ofthe completion of the palace. 'What do you want of me?' she said again, conquering her superstitiousfear. 'I would speak to you, Madame; I have a warning to give you. ' The voicewas deep and low, and after the squeaky tones which the revellersaffected in order to disguise their natural voices, this man's bass notessounded hollow and funereal. 'Speak then here, ' she answered. 'No; my warning must be given to you where none can hear, ' he responded;and once more laying his black-gloved hand on her arm, he drew her awayfrom the window towards a door which led down a short flight of stepsinto the moonlit garden. Did the man mean murder? It flashed acrossWilhelmine that she was going blindly into danger. She paused on thetopmost step of the flight. 'I will go no further; speak now, or I leave you here. ' Her voice wascalm, though her hands were trembling a little. 'I am sent to tell you that your hour has come; that your ill-gottenpower, your evil triumphs, are waning. ' His voice was deep, sonorous, impressive. 'Who sends you?' she asked. Coming from the brilliantly lit rooms and thestir and noise of the ball, this sudden interlude in the still, moonlitgarden, with the strange, sinister, black-robed figure, seemed to herlike a dream. 'I am sent by one you have ruined, in the name of the many you haveinjured! and yet, in mercy, I bid you fly while there is time!' thestranger answered. 'Ah! Mercy? This is some absurd fiction; no one has mercy upon me, ' shesaid bitterly. 'Yes, I have. I came to deliver my message, and yesterday I saw yourentry into Ludwigsburg. I saw the peasants cruelly driven back by thesoldiers' swords. I saw the great monument you have raised here to yourshame, this mad, mock court of yours, and I hated you! but then I sawyour youth, your beauty, and I vowed I would warn you, that you mightcarry this, your true wealth, to some atonement for your sins. I bid youfly; the Duke has information against you which must spell ruin foryou--ruin and death. ' 'You are mad, ' she said quietly. 'No; I am not mad, unless compassion is madness. ' She drew off her mask, and, in the clear white moonlight, turned her faceupon him--that strange, haunting face of hers, which Eberhard Ludwig saidno man could forget. 'And so you had compassion because you saw me?' she laughed. 'Yourmission is absurd, but I forgive you because some generous thought wasyours even for the Grävenitzin. ' She was all woman at that moment; thehard, cruel oppressor, the ruling Landhofmeisterin, was banished from herbeing, she was fascination incarnate. 'How beautiful you are--how beautiful----!' the black mask whispered. 'Tell me who you are, ' she said, and smiled at him. 'An enemy who would turn friend, and more--if he looked too long at you, 'he answered slowly. 'Tell me your name, ' she asked once more. 'No; my name you will never know, only I have warned you. ' 'I thank you, ' she said gravely, and gave him her hand. He bent andkissed it, and vanished into the shadow of the garden. She stood a momentlooking after her unknown visitor. Ruin and death, he had said. Shepondered on why this stranger should have warned her. Evidently an enemywith an evil plan against her, turned aside by some man's whim, somesudden mood caused by the sight of her beauty. Flight, he counselled, flight for her! No! she would battle to the last, but she would notneglect the unknown's warning. In a flash it came to her that this manwas connected with the letter which the Duke had refused to communicateto her. She replaced her mask and returned to the ballroom. Still thesame monotonous whirling crowd, the pattering feet of the dancers, thedin of the music. She searched for Serenissimus. He was standing with a group of masks atthe lower end of the hall, and did not observe her. She made her wayslowly through the crowd to the other side of the room, and slippedthrough the door into the ante-hall. Immediately two lackeys sprangforward to inquire her Excellency's pleasure. She waved them away andpassed onward, out to the terrace, and towards her pavilion. The sentryat her door saluted her, but she gained her own ante-hall without meetingany of her waiting men, even Maria was gaping in the crowd in thecourtyard probably. Wilhelmine paused a moment in her antechamber on the first floor. Shelistened attentively, and called Maria under her breath, but no answercame. Then she drew out the little key, approached the door leading tothe statue gallery and opened it gently. The gallery was in darkness, save where a faint white radiance was reflected from the moonlit gardenwithout, but that side of the palace lay in deep shadow. She crept on andgroped for the lock beneath the plaster Amorino's hand. At first shecould not find it, but after some moments she felt the tiny keyhole, and, fitting the key, she turned it and the door swung open. She glided inbehind the arras, and found the spring which opened the partition. Shelistened; there was no sound from the room within. She pressed thespring, the tapestry door opened silently beneath her touch, and shepassed into the Duke's writing-closet. Here the moon shone full in, whiteand ghostly. Wilhelmine's mind flew back to that far-off night atGüstrow, when in the moonlight she had stolen the key from under hermother's pillow. How she had trembled! She had been a child in experiencethen, a very different being from the strong, self-confident woman sheknew herself to be nowadays. And yet she trembled in the moonlit room asshe had trembled then. What was that? The moonlight falling in sheenysilver through the window, seemed to her to take the shape of a tall, white woman's figure. She remembered the grim old legend of that Countessof Orlamünde, murderess of little children, who haunted all the palacesof her descendants. In the castle at Stuttgart, they said, the White Ladywalked, her pale trailing garments streaked with blood. Could she wanderhere too in new, gorgeous Ludwigsburg? Almost Wilhelmine turned and fled, but the remembrance of her dire peril came to her. She looked bravely atthe moonlight--there was no ghost there; it was only the Lady Moon, witchof the night, throwing her cold, false smiles through the casement. Wilhelmine went forward boldly. She must find the letter at any cost; itscontents threatened her, and she must know. The Duke's bureau was locked. She pressed the secret spring in vain. Wasshe doomed to be baffled, after all? She remembered that her own bureauwas identical with his Highness's. Resolutely, with that patience whichis born of hazardous undertakings, she glided away through the arrasdoor, through the black gallery, and regained her apartments. She heard amovement in her sleeping-room, and Maria came to her. 'Your Excellency, pray forgive that I was not here. ' Even Maria must not know why she had left the ballroom, she thought. 'Go to Madame de Ruth's apartments. A black silk domino lies in thewardrobe; go, bring it to me. I would change my colour and play a merryjest upon some friends. ' The maid departed. Now all was clear for sometime, for Madame de Ruth's apartment lay at the far end of the east wing. Swiftly she sought the key of her bureau; it was hidden in a secretdrawer beneath the writing-desk. She took it, and passed through thelittle door again. Once more she listened behind the arras; it seemed toher as if something moved. She paused, then gently reopened the tapestrydoor and peered in. The room lay silent, deserted, white and ghostly asbefore. She passed in, and fitted her key into the bureau. The lockyielded and the bureau flew open. Letters, documents, drawings, plans forhunting excursions--all the usual occupants of Eberhard Ludwig's bureau. She could see enough in the moonlight. Ah! here a creased paper. Shecaught it up and examined it. Yes; this must be the thing shefeared--four large pages filled with cramped characters. She looked moreclosely. Forstner's writing! She almost laughed. This, then, was what hisHighness had hidden so scrupulously from her! Thanks to the unknown'swarning, she had come on the track of her most deadly enemy. Had theblack mask not spoken, she might have forgotten the letter. She closedthe bureau carefully and stepped behind the arras, shutting the tapestrydoor carefully. She was now in perfect darkness. She groped along thewall to find the lock of the gallery door. Great God! what was that? Amovement near her, an icy touch on her hand. The White Lady's death-grip!and yet better that, she thought, than any human being's presence; betterthat than for any mortal to have seen her rifling the Duke's bureau. Shesought wildly for the lock. At last she found it and slipped in the key. As the door sprang open something pushed past her--a huge, black shape. 'Mélac!' she called in a strained voice, and the powerful beast came toher and rubbed his cold nose upon her hand. Only the wolf-hound, then, who had been sleeping in the darkness behind the arras. She laughed whenshe remembered her ghastly fear of the White Lady's death-grip! She regained her own room. Maria had not returned from Madame de Ruth'sapartment. She kindled a light from her steel tinder-casket and set awaxen taper aglow. Then she began to read Forstner's letter. 'Monseigneur, my Prince, and once my friend! Though it has been yourpleasure to discredit me, I cannot rest until I have let you know thetruth. You are being grossly abused, your noble trust and love made mockof by a creature too vile for human words to describe. A woman, who toher other lovers holds you up to scorn and ridicule! yes, ridicule ofyour passion, making mock, betraying the secrets of your bed. Besides, itis she who has the gulden which you accused me of purloining; she to whomhalf your revenues are carried, and you are doled out a paltry sum which, after all, you spend again upon this creature. You are weary of her, too;all your Dukedom knows that right well--weary of her, and you dare notdismiss her! The people laugh: your subjects, your friends, strangers, other princes, all Europe laughs. See her! observe her hideous faults, her foul blemishes of mind and body, her filthy actions!' Then followedthe names of his rival lovers, and a list of the vast sums she hadfilched from the ducal treasury. All this set forth so cleverly, withsuch apparent proof, that she trembled as she read. There were officialbusiness transactions accurately quoted and put in such a light as toseem to be robberies. It was a dangerous letter for her--half truth, halffalsehood, difficult to unravel, impossible to deny entirely. 'Honourbinds you, you say, ' the epistle continued. 'Ah! my Prince! you have atoy which has turned to a viper in your hand! Throw it from you! Otherprinces have done so, and the world has applauded. Take a fair and noblemistress, one younger, less rapacious. Consider this woman: already shegrows gross; in a few years' time she will be a mountain of flesh; hereyes are dimming, her lips are paler, her teeth less white than they werewhen she came from her obscure home. ' Wilhelmine, in all the magnificence of her beauty, of her maturity, readthus far quietly; then, raging, she sprang to her feet. 'I could have forgiven you some of your insults, Forstner, but this istoo much! By God! by God! you shall suffer! I swear it by my salvation!' She read on: details too disgusting, too gross to write down here, foulaccusation upon accusation, hideous blasphemies against her bodilybeauty. Of a truth, not even a saint could have forgiven the writer of thatletter--and Wilhelmine von Grävenitz was no saint. CHAPTER XVII THE BURNING IN EFFIGY ON the morning following the masquerade, his Highness's Chief Officer ofthe Secret Service of Wirtemberg craved audience. The Secret Service hadbeen instituted by Eberhard Ludwig after the murderous attack upon theGrävenitz in Duke Christopher's grotto. In the unquiet state of thecountry, rife with discontent and its attendant conspiracies, such aservice was absolutely necessary; but, of course, this system ofespionage was most unpopular, and as the Landhofmeisterin was creditedwith the institution of the Secret Service, the people's fear and hatredof her increased. The Chief Officer had grave matters to communicate to his Highness: aplot to murder her Excellency the Landhofmeisterin had been discovered, and from intercepted papers it would appear that the conspirators alsoaimed at the Duke himself. It seemed that many influential persons wereimplicated. The design was to induce his Highness to abdicate in favour of theErbprinz, during whose minority Forstner was to be Premier, and theDuchess Johanna Elizabetha Regent of Wirtemberg. This portion of theconspiracy could be dealt with easily, but the murderous intent upon theLandhofmeisterin took a more serious aspect, as the Secret Service agentshad procured information which led the Chief Officer to infer that thewould-be assassins were actually in, or near, Ludwigsburg. It was, however, impossible to arrest every stranger on mere suspicion, for bothLudwigsburg and Stuttgart were full of country gentlemen who had beencommanded to appear at the Mask Ball. At mention of Forstner, his Highness went to his bureau to seek hiserstwhile friend's letter. In vain he searched in drawer and secretpanel. The letter had vanished. The four cadets, who stood sentry at thedoor of the Duke's apartment, were questioned; they had seen none enter. His Highness's private waiting-men were examined, and the soldiers of theguard who stood in the lower antehall. All answered that no one hadpassed through. The Chief Officer of the Secret Service himself hadwatched the entrance of the Corps de Logis during the preceding evening. The Duke searched his bureau once more. He was greatly disturbed. Openwarfare, a hand-to-hand combat, he said, were child's play to the horrorof this lurking enemy, who evidently had access even to the privatebureau. Zollern was requested to come and speak with the Duke; his advicewas asked. 'Have you mentioned the matter to the Landhofmeisterin? She is very wise, and may be able to suggest some explanation, ' said Zollern. No; his Highness had not seen her Excellency. Then a sudden suspicioncame to Eberhard Ludwig. She wished to see the letter; could she havepurloined it? 'Do you know if the Landhofmeisterin left the ballroom during the lastevening?' he asked Zollern. No; the old Prince had observed her Excellency constantly, and she hadnot been absent from the dancing-hall, save for a few moments which shepassed on one of the balconies in the company of a black domino, whoseidentity Monseigneur de Zollern had been unable to ascertain. Serenissimus dismissed his suspicions with relief. It is pain to doubtthose we love. Zollern took his leave, and the Duke desired the Secret Service officerto retire. He would ask her Excellency's advice in private. TheLandhofmeisterin was summoned to attend his Highness on importantbusiness. After some little delay she arrived. Passing up the grandstairs, she was ceremoniously ushered into his Highness's presence. His suspicion, though dismissed, rankled. Serenissimus greeted hercoldly, and informed her of the letter's disappearance. 'Your Highness refers to a letter which I was not permitted to peruse? Iregret that it should be lost, but you will remember that you consideredit to be unimportant. ' The relationship between the lovers was strained. 'I do not discuss the importance of the document, Madame. Indeed, thesmallest scrap of paper missing from my bureau would be a grave matter tome, as I should thus ascertain that some person had access to my privatepapers. ' The Duke spoke with cold displeasure. He had felt a pang of jealoussuspicion when Zollern informed him of Wilhelmine's interview with theblack domino; also, he was still angry with his mistress for her stormyexit after his refusal to show her Forstner's letter; and further, he wasgreatly incensed at the plot to force him to abdicate. All these causeswrought an iron firmness into his usually gentle voice. Wilhelmine feltthis to be a crucial moment in her life. 'It would appear that your Highness sees fit to question me in a strangemanner upon this trivial matter! I am not aware that theLandhofmeisterin's office is concerned with the superintendence of yourHighness's private bureau, ' she said haughtily. 'You know my meaning perfectly, Wilhelmine, ' the Duke broke outfuriously. 'Alas! like a pack of cards built in a card-house, myhappiness, my pride, my triumph, my joy in my new palace, come fallingabout my head! How sad, how futile a thing is earthly joy!' He turnedaway, and bent to stroke Mélac's head. The good beast had approached inseeming anxiety upon hearing the Duke's distressed voice. Wilhelmine looked at his Highness for a moment in silence, and her facesoftened. After all, she loved Eberhard Ludwig, and in spite of heroverweening prosperity, coupled with the world-hardness which marred her, there lingered something of tenderness in her love. Then, too, she was aconsummate actress, and a being gifted with the womanly genius forcharming, and therein lies sympathy. It is when this sympathetic spark iskilled by the terrible blight of over-prosperity, that the deteriorationof a woman takes place. Not all in a day, but gradually, the poisonworks: the first stage signalised by a cruel hardness to those theylove; then an entire incapacity for tenderness; ultimately the hideousblight falls on the woman's charm, her voice, her face, her laugh, theessence of her being. God knows the tragedy of it; God alone can gaugethe agony inflicted by the world-hardened women upon the hearts of thosewho love them; and God Himself punishes eventually, for: 'The mills ofGod grind slow, but they grind exceeding sure. ' Still in Wilhelmine there lingered a little tenderness for EberhardLudwig, and this taught her a surer way to her own safety than ever herbrain could have shown her. She came to him and, laying her hand on hisshoulder, she said: 'The world and my heart lie at your feet, Eberhard, beloved. You are fighting with some wild phantasy, some spectre whichexists only in your own mind. See, we share all things, let me share yoursorrow. Is it only the loss of this letter which distresses you? Oh! tellme; surely you will not shut me out from your life?' Her voice charmed him as on that first day when he had called herPhilomèle, and he turned to her with his love shining in his eyes. 'Am I, indeed, scaring myself with a phantom?' he said, and a note ofalmost childlike appeal lay in his tone. 'Yes, only that, ' she made answer, and, smiling, drew him to her. Then hetold her the story of the plot against them, but he did not mentionForstner as the prime conspirator. She laughed. '_You_ are safe, for none can make you abdicate against your will; and Iam safe because you protect me, beloved. ' 'Safe? Yes; but ah! the letter! Who slinks past our guards and robs mybureau? It is hateful. I love to fight a man, but this lurking dangerwhich I guess hidden behind each arras----' 'The letter? Are you sure you sought in each hiding-place of yourbureau?' she said. Already in her mind a plan was forming whereby shecould allay his fears and conquer his suspicions. Forstner's letter layhidden in her bosom; she would replace it in the bureau-drawer while theysearched, then, with the Duke's knowledge of Forstner's plot, she wouldbreak this dangerous enemy. 'Forgive me, Eberhard, but so many people search frantically and thusoverlook the very object they seek! See, let us look through the paperstogether. ' She approached the bureau, and made believe to be mighty awkward with thefastening. His Highness unlocked the panel, and together they began areview of the tumbled documents within, Wilhelmine talking gaily thewhile. 'What is it like, this precious letter?--large? small?' she asked. 'A large paper in Forstner's writing, ' returned the Duke, forgetting thatshe did not know whence came the letter. 'In Forstner's writing!' she exclaimed. 'And this you hide from me? Theman is my deadly enemy, and, as you know now at last, but a false friendto you! You say the world is dark and evil to you; what is it to me whenyou, the love of my life, can harbour letters from my cruel enemy?' She flung herself down on the chair beside the bureau, and burying herface in the papers on the writing-desk, burst into a flood of tears. Eberhard Ludwig fell on his knees at her feet, and in broken wordsimplored her pardon. He kissed the hem of her garment, accused himself oftreason to her, prayed her to be consoled. 'Give me water, I am faint!' she moaned. He sprang up and hastened to hissleeping-room to bring water for her. Now was her moment: with incredibleswiftness she drew the letter from its hiding-place and slipped it undera bundle of papers and plans on the bureau. When his Highness returnedcarrying a goblet of water, he found his mistress still weeping bitterlywith her face hidden on the writing-desk. She drank the water while Eberhard Ludwig hung over her in anxiousrapture, heaping reproaches upon himself for his cruelty, but she refusedto be consoled. 'What can I do to prove to you that all my unworthy suspicions havevanished?' he cried in desperation. 'Tell me what was written in that letter; let me defend myself, ' sheanswered quickly. 'You ask the one thing I may not do. I cannot, ' he said sadly. 'And the letter is lost!' she cried; 'who knows what enemy of mine hasgot it? Alas! perhaps all the world will know the vile things this manhas written, and you have let him go unpunished. All will know save theaccused criminal! Oh! the injustice! the cruelty!' The Duke shuddered. 'Yes, it is true; that terrible thing I had not remembered. O God! if Icould but find that accursed letter! At least, no one but myself needhave known of the foul accusations; but now that the letter is lost----' Wildly he began to search once more in the bureau, and Wilhelmine almostlaughed when she saw him lift the packet of papers under which she hadslipped Forstner's letter. With a cry the Duke turned to her. 'Thank God! I have found it! It lay here beneath this bundle. Wilhelmine, beloved, now none can read these blasphemies against you, ' he cried. 'So you tell me to my face that yonder paper is a blasphemy against me, afoul accusation, and you will not let me clear myself!' she cried wildly. 'I swore to Forstner that I would never, in spoken or written word, divulge his communications--never give or voluntarily let another takehis letters. Unless you can divine what you wish to know, there is nohelp. ' He laughed harshly. 'Divine what is in that letter?' she said in a musing tone. Suddenly a thought came to her. She remembered each word of that horribleletter. It was necessary his Highness should know she knew, yetimperative that her knowledge should appear to have been gained in hispresence. Wilhelmine had studied many books of magic and innumerable accounts ofoccult manifestations. She was half-dupe, half-charlatan, and indeed shepossessed much magnetic power. Now in Bavaria, some years before this scene at Ludwigsburg, there hadbeen discovered an extraordinary peasant-girl gifted with rare facultiesof clairvoyance, thought-reading, ecstatic trances, prophecies, and therest. An account of her short twenty years of vision-tortured life hadbeen published by the doctor of her village--a crank, and supposed wizardhimself. This pamphlet Wilhelmine had read, as she read all booksconcerning mysterious manifestations. His Highness, however, would neverlook at anything treating of magic or witchcraft. He honestly disapprovedof such things, and feared them; though, in contradiction, he was muchattracted by his mistress's strange powers, which he affected to doubt, yet, in truth, he was terribly afraid at times. It was certain that he knew nothing of the Seer of Altbach, and thusWilhelmine felt assured she might risk the shamming of one of thepeasant-girl's feats, palming it off as an original accomplishment. She continued to implore the Duke to show her the letter, but he wasobdurate; honour bound him, he said. At length Wilhelmine's scheme had matured in her fertile brain, and shewas ready to begin her daring comedy. 'I cannot rest while I am ignorant of the accusations in that letter. There must be something terrible, some fearful wickedness against me, which you will not tell me, but which, like poison thrown into a well, will pollute each thought of me in your mind, till at length your love ofme and your trust will die. Whereas, if I know of what I am accused, Ican wrench out this poisonous root with the sword of Truth, for oh! loveof mine, I am innocent, save for the sin of loving you. ' 'And yet honour closes my lips! I swore to Forstner that his letters tome should never be divulged; and though he is doubtless a traitor to me, still I cannot absolve myself of my oath, ' he answered sadly. She stood up, and holding out both hands towards him, she said solemnly: 'Take both my hands in one of yours, look in my eyes, hold the letter onmy brow, and I will tell you what he says. Thus your honour is cleared, for you have neither spoken nor given me the writing, but I shall haveguessed. ' 'What madness is this?' he cried angrily; 'your witch-working again! Butif it calms you to play like this, I am ready to humour so ridiculous awhimsey. ' Half-laughing, half-annoyed, he took the letter from his pocket. Wilhelmine laid her two hands in one of his and gazed into his eyes. For a moment she stood as though hesitating, and the Duke felt her handsflutter like caught birds. Her eyes seemed to look into some fardistance. Slowly she began in a low voice: 'Monseigneur, my Prince, and once my friend, you are being grosslyabused, your noble trust and love is made mock of by a creature too vilefor human words. A woman, who to her other lovers holds you up to scornand ridicule--yes, ridicule of your passion. ' Her voice grew faint andfaded into a whisper, and the hands which the Duke held trembled andtwitched violently. Slowly, falteringly, she went on, sometimes recitinga whole sentence in the very words of the letter, sometimes only givingthe gist; but always in the same low, monotonous voice, like theutterance of one who speaks in sleep. The Duke stood rigid, fear and amazement written on his face. Once hishand, which held the letter to her brow, dropped to his side. Immediatelythe subtle comedian paused, moaning as though in physical pain. It was amagnificent bit of trickery; small marvel that his Highness was deceived. When she had told him all the paper contained, she covered her face withher hands and fell to trembling as in an ague, moaning and sighingincessantly. In truth, she had worked herself into a fit of franticemotion, and had her will been less strong, she must indeed have ravedoff into hysterics. Now consider this thing. Here is a man who had lost a letter; who soughtit; at length finding it safe in a locked bureau. The search takes placein the very presence of a being he had half accused of purloining themissing letter. This person, he is assured by a prince of the highesthonour, has never left a crowded ballroom during the only hours when itwould have been possible for her to have stolen the paper. Then hehimself proposes, in jest, that she should guess the contents of adocument, which he feels certain has been read by himself alone, and hasmerely been mislaid in a carefully locked bureau. This extraordinary featshe accomplishes in a seeming trance. Add to all this, that the woman ishis beloved mistress, whom he ardently wishes to trust, and that oftenbefore she had told him she was gifted with occult powers. Is it matterof surprise that he implicitly believed Wilhelmine had accomplished amagic feat? White magic though; nothing evil here; on the contrary, almost a miracle, like some mediæval ordeal through which her purity andinnocence alone could have sustained her. Yet he questioned her. Could she read any paper in that manner? She answered that she had nevertried before. She spoke to him in gentle words, praying him to give goodfaith to her. She clung to him like a tired child. What man could resisther? Then she talked of Forstner's conspiracy. She depicted the vileness ofone who could write such a letter at the very hour when he was plottingto ruin the man to whom he penned words of passionate exhortation andaffection. She laid stress upon the treason against Eberhard Ludwig, andhe in return flamed into anger concerning the design to murder thisclinging, appealing woman. Chivalry, honour, duty, bound him to protecther. Very subtly she led him on: to protect in this case must be torevenge her. Then she lashed him to a fury against the traitor who had plotted againstso lenient a prince. Taking the letter from his Highness (he let her haveit now without demur), she went through the list of accusations, refutingeach statement, throwing the blame upon Forstner for the various monetarydefections which he himself, in this letter, had proved to exist in theLudwigsburg building accounts. She pointed out that Forstner should bepunished heavily, both in just revenge and as a warning to others. Atlast Eberhard Ludwig yielded, and promised that she should dictateForstner's sentence. * * * * * Forstner tarried at Strassburg. He believed his letter would awaken theDuke from his long, evil, delicious dream; but when days, weeks, monthspassed without any change taking place at Ludwigsburg, and theLandhofmeisterin's triumph continued, Forstner's hopes waned. He darednot return to Wirtemberg, yet the care of his properties demanded hispresence. Meanwhile Eberhard Ludwig had permitted the Landhofmeisterin to work herwill in the Forstner affair. Little guessed the poor fool, waiting atStrassburg, what a terrible net was being woven round him. Slowly, silently, with deadly patience, the Landhofmeisterin was collecting athousand threads for this fabric. Documents, statements, even theaccounts of Forstner's private monies were bribed from his estate agents;each letter that he wrote, everything, was gathered by the Secret Serviceand brought to the Landhofmeisterin's office, where the long chain ofevidence was being linked together by the Grävenitz and Schütz. Sheintended Forstner to be condemned, not only by the Duke's orders, butpublicly, and on a charge so damning as to alienate all from him. Incidentally, the Duchess Johanna Elizabetha would be deeply implicated. In the January of 1712 Forstner at Strassburg received some warning, andfled to Paris. Here, at least, he believed himself safe from themachinations of the all-powerful Grävenitz. True, he was implicated inthat feeble plot to murder her, which had failed because the young man hehad hired to do the deed had unaccountably disappeared, hisfellow-conspirators having never seen or heard of him since the night ofthe Ludwigsburg masquerade. Forstner often wondered whether the youth wasimprisoned in one of Wirtemberg's grim fortresses--Hohenasperg, Hohen-Urach, or Hohen-Neuffen. He shuddered when he remembered how menvanished into the gloom of these strongholds, which are built into therock of the steep hills, and are inaccessible as an eagle's eyrie. Yet proof was wanting to convict him of contriving murder or politicaldisturbance, and, at least, he was safe in Paris. Lulled intocarelessness by the silence from Wirtemberg, he showed himself abroad, even attending the genial, informal receptions of the Duchesse d'Orléans, that Princess of Bavaria who had succeeded, and by her sturdy, uncompromising treatment of the Duc d'Orléans, had revenged poorHenriette of England, his beautiful, brilliant, but little appreciatedfirst wife. Elizabeth Charlotte received Forstner with much condescension. Death hadrelieved her, in 1702, from her sickly, despicable spouse, and she wasfree to open her house to every German traveller, which, in his lifetime, Monsieur had always endeavoured to prevent. One day when Forstner was journeying to visit the Duchesse d'Orléans, hewas arrested in the King's name and conveyed to the Bastille, where hewas informed that he was accused of treason to the Duke of Wirtemberg, and of intent to murder several great personages of his Highness's court. He was further informed that he would be sent to Stuttgart under escortas soon as the necessary arrangements could be completed. In vain Forstner remonstrated that he could not be imprisoned in Francefor a political offence in Wirtemberg. In vain he protested and claimedthe protection of Louis XIV. The King at Versailles was busied with thesaving of his soul and with the doctoring of his gangrened knee. So thedoors of the Bastille closed on Baron Forstner, and he was left toreflect upon the danger of casting aspersions on a woman's beauty. After some months the rumour of Forstner's imprisonment reached theDuchesse d'Orléans, who had believed her compatriot returned to Germany. Now it was a ticklish thing for the Duchess to undertake intervention onbehalf of a Protestant, for though she had joined the Church of Rome onher marriage to 'Monsieur, ' still it was whispered in Paris that she hadreprehensible leanings to the faith of her childhood. Madame de Maintenon and the King were more than ever hostile towardsheretics, and the Bavarian princess had received several sharp reproofson the subject already. Then came the news that Forstner had been condemned to death inStuttgart, and that he was to be conveyed thither without delay. The Duchesse d'Orléans journeyed to Versailles, and demanded an audienceof her august brother-in-law. The King was in an ungracious mood. Hereceived his late brother's wife coldly. He regretted that she shouldespouse the cause of this foreigner. Really, he had no intention ofinterfering in the affairs of any petty German prince. This was merely aquestion of international law. If this 'Baron de Forstnère' were in theBastille, let him stay there. Louis asked angrily if he were expected tointerest himself in such unimportant details, when he was so profoundlytroubled with affairs of State. Little wonder that the King was not in afavour-granting humour. The Congress of Utrecht was discussing peace, andLouis saw that though he had actually gained the day in the SpanishSuccession War, still France had lost hugely in blood and gold, and wasto lose still more in colonies. But Elizabeth Charlotte was not to be put off thus easily. If it came tohard words, no one was more competent than she was to utter truthunshrinkingly. Petty German princes indeed! Louis had been anxious enoughto share in the inheritance from a petty German prince, when, at thedeath of her father without male heirs, the Roi Soleil had seen a chanceof grasping a portion of the Bavarian Palatinate! And so she told him inher loud voice and uncouth French. Madame de Maintenon interposed: Whydid her Royal Highness take so deep an interest in this 'Forstnère?' sheasked. 'Because he is a Bavarian, and his father and mine were friends, ' she wastold by the Duchess. 'Ah! a Bavarian--then a Catholique?' the saintly Marquise supposed. 'No indeed!' Things looked very black for Forstner. But the Duchesse d'Orléans playedher trump card. Though a Protestant, Forstner was a virtuous man, and thereason of his disgrace in Wirtemberg was simply that he opposed theterrible licence of the Duke's mistress. Now the Marquise de Maintenon was a little sensitive on the subject ofmistresses, and when Elizabeth Charlotte invoked her aid against themachinations of a wanton, old Veuve Scarron changed her tone. Then in themidst of the discussion the King had a twinge in his gangrened knee, andsigned Forstner's release, in order to be rid of this pertinaciousprincess. Meanwhile there had been storms at Ludwigsburg. In December 1711 the newEmperor Charles VI. , former pretender to the Spanish throne, was crownedEmperor at Frankfort. The reigning princes of the various allied Germanstates attended the coronation of the German king, crowned Emperor of theHoly Roman Empire. Eberhard Ludwig of Wirtemberg repaired to Frankfortfor the historic ceremony, and it was the right of the Duchess ofWirtemberg to attend, if she so desired; but Johanna Elizabetha remainedin her dreary black-hung apartments, sewing coarse linen garments for thepoor, and weeping her desolation. Pageants were not for her obviously. But the Landhofmeisterin demanded to go to Frankfort with her Duke. Zollern and Madame de Ruth advised her to refrain from so preposterous arequest; but she had set her mind upon it, and she importunedSerenissimus, who, poor man, was indeed all unable to grant her thiswhim. There were pleadings, tears, angry words, finally a serious quarrelbetween the lovers. Friedrich Grävenitz, now a Privy Councillor andMinister of State, remonstrated pompously with his sister. He had gainednearly all he desired through her, and now affected to be the seriousofficial, the hard-working minister and grave man of the world. She badehim return to his petty businesses of administration, and warned himthat, did he interfere with her, she would cause him to be dismissed. Friedrich aimed at being Premier of Wirtemberg, and thus he bowed downonce more to the all-powerful lady. The Landhofmeisterin continued topester the Duke to convey her to Frankfort. Then, in the midst of thisquarrel, news came from Stetten that the Duchess-mother was sick untodeath, and Serenissimus abruptly left Ludwigsburg to receive his mother'sdying blessing. He returned in a few days deeply saddened. He had arrived at his mother'sdeathbed too late; she had almost passed away. True, her wan face had litwith love when Eberhard Ludwig stood beside her; bending over her, he hadheard her murmur once more her favourite catchword, 'My absurd boy, ' thena faint whisper of 'Johanna Elizabetha, ' and the Duke knew that, with herlast breath, the honest old lady had called him back to duty. But hereturned to weep his mother's loss upon the breast of Wilhelmine vonGrävenitz. In this softened mood, his Highness went near the granting hisbeloved's prayer, but Zollern stepped in and spoke privately with theLandhofmeisterin. Directly after the Duchess-mother's obsequies the Duke rode northwards toFrankfort to attend the Emperor's coronation. He journeyed with his chiefofficers and guards, and his proud mistress was left behind inWirtemberg. Yet she had gained another triumph. If the Duke could notgrant her request concerning the coronation, what would he give her incompensation? 'Anything in the world you ask, ' he had replied. And she had demandedStetten, the Duchess-mother's dower-house! Zollern and Madame de Ruthwere overwhelmed when they heard of it. Good heavens! what would theDuchess-mother have said? But on the day when Eberhard Ludwig rode to thecoronation, the Landhofmeisterin's coach thundered through the fields toStetten. * * * * * When the news came from Paris that Forstner had been released from theBastille, the Landhofmeisterin flew into a towering passion. TheGeheimräthe were summoned, and the affair put before them once more. Theevidence against Forstner was convincing, and any Chamber would haveconvicted him; but it is necessary to consider who composed this PrivyCouncil. Landhofmeister Count Würben--an invalid unfortunately, and unable toappear--was Premier and Minister of War, and in his regrettable absencehis wife, her Excellency the Landhofmeisterin, presided at the sessionsof the Council, and a more energetic, autocratic President could not havebeen found in Europe. Friedrich, Count von Grävenitz, was Minister of theInterior; Baron Schütz, Minister for Foreign Affairs; Baron Sittmann, Minister of Finance; and two brothers Pfau, cousins of Schütz, heldoffice as Councillors. For appearance sake (not that the Landhofmeisterinconsidered that often) there were several minor councillors, men of noimportance, who obeyed implicitly the autocratic, vigilant, relentlessPresident of Council. Thus the entire government lay in the Grävenitz'scapable hands. Small wonder that Forstner trembled. The Council decreed that the recalcitrant Baron was to be summoned toattend his trial forthwith, and that a hope of rehabilitation should beheld out to him if he came immediately to his country's first tribunal. The death sentence was rescinded, of course, pending this new trial. Forstner replied to this official document that he had no intention ofputting his head between the wolf's teeth, and that he intended to appealin Vienna against the wrongful detention of his monies and properties inWirtemberg. He reminded the honourable Council that he was by birth aBavarian, and that, though he had resided in Wirtemberg, and owned landsin that dukedom, still the Wirtemberg tribunal had no jurisdiction overhim. Upon receipt of this answer the Privy Council solemnly recondemnedForstner to death, confiscated his Wirtemberg properties, and furtherdecreed that if he refused to be executed in person, he should be burnedin effigy in the market-place of Stuttgart by the common hangman. Forstner's response to this was a letter to the Landhofmeisterin, whereinhe suggested that he should summon a Privy Council on his estates inAlsace, composed of his valet, his gardener, his lackey, and the villagefiddler. That he proposed, as President of this Council, to condemn herto death; and should she not joyfully repair for her execution, he wouldhave her hanged in effigy, head downwards, over the pig-stye. Probablythat drastic Bavarian, the Duchesse d'Orléans, inspired this letter, orelse Forstner had developed a grim wit in his day of trouble. The Duke and the Landhofmeisterin raged, and the day of the burning ineffigy was fixed. Then the officer of the Secret Service came to Ludwigsburg carrying abundle of placards torn from the house walls in Stuttgart. Hundreds ofthese writings had been nailed to the walls and the doors, and seemed toresprout there like magic mushrooms, for as fast as the agent and his menremoved one, another appeared in its place. These handbills set forththe gist of Forstner's letter to the Landhofmeisterin, but in even morepregnant terms, and with additional remarks concerning her person, habits, and transactions. 'Death to the person found affixing such a placard. Imprisonment to thosewho speak of these handbills. Fines to each householder upon whose houseor door such a paper is found. ' Thus Eberhard Ludwig decreed; and onemiserable wretch was actually hung for nailing up one of Forstner'splacards; while innumerable fines were imposed upon the burghers whosehouses had been thus decorated. The burning in effigy of Baron Forstner was fixed for the 15th ofFebruary. The arrangements for this strange function were elaborate, andentirely supervised and in part designed by the Landhofmeisterin. Her aimwas to make this mock execution not merely a symbol of the criminal'sdegradation, but a truly awe-inspiring ceremony, calculated to striketerror into the minds of the onlookers. She caused every town and village of Wirtemberg to send their chief menaccompanied by their wives (the Landhofmeisterin knew the power ofwomanly gossip in a country, or indeed in any community) to witness thesham holocaust. The members of the court were commanded to be present, and the Stuttgart burghers were informed that non-attendants would befined. The 15th of February dawned clear and frosty, and in spite of theburghers' hatred of the Landhofmeisterin and all she did, there was acertain amused anticipation in Stuttgart regarding the strange ceremonywhich was to take place. For days carpenters, joiners, and builders had been at work in themarket-place erecting a huge platform and a giant gibbet. The well-to-doburghers hired rooms in the houses looking on to the square. As theydared not refuse to attend, they desired at least to make this mockexecution an occasion for popular entertainment. At nine of the clock the bells of all churches in Stuttgart began to tollfor the dead, and the tramp of soldiers proceeding to the market-placewarned the compulsory sightseers that it was time to repair thither andthey would not be crushed in the mob. Many set out in a jocular humour, but quickly this gaiety changed; there was something inexplicablysinister in the atmosphere, a menace to freedom, an appalling sense ofrelentless tyranny. Round the market-place the soldiery formed a double line, and the peoplesoon saw that this mock ceremony was a grim threat; for the soldierscarried matchlocks, and the whisper ran round the assemblage that thesewere primed and loaded, and that the soldiers had orders to fire if anygroup of sightseers indulged in undue hilarity. The newly erected platform was draped in black, and in the middle of themarket-place stood a circle of stakes round a large centre pillar. Thiscircle contained a huge pile of tar-soaked wood. A brooding stillness fell on the people. The market-place was denselypacked, each window of the surrounding houses held its complement of menand women. The church bells still tolled the solemn death tones, otherwise the silence was unbroken. At length a flourish of trumpets sounded. The court was approaching. First came the officers of State and the members of the nobility, then adetachment of Silver Guards rode up, and formed into line before theblack-draped platform. Another fanfare of trumpets and theLandhofmeisterin's gilded coach thundered into the market-place, the mobcrushing back to avoid the flying hoofs of the escort's horses. Severalcoaches followed, containing the red-robed privy councillors and richlybedizened courtiers. Serenissimus sprang from the Landhofmeisterin'scoach and assisted her Excellency to alight. She took her place besidehis Highness in the centre of the platform, and the privy council and thecourt gathered round. Then appeared a file of soldiers and officers, and in their midst was arigid figure lashed between two condemned criminals. One a murderer, particularly odious to the Stuttgart burghers, for he had stabbed hisemployer, a well-known lady, the much-esteemed widow of a popular towncouncillor. The other a notorious horse-stealer, whom the law-abidingStuttgarters had stoned but a few months past. The rigid figure was ridiculous enough: the great waxen head sculpturedto an unmistakable, though grotesque, likeness of the well-known featuresof Baron Forstner; then the long, emaciated limbs and even the man'snoticeably narrow, flat feet had been reproduced, and they shuffledstiffly along the frost-dried cobble stones. It was a masterpiece ofridicule, yet there was something furiously cruel in the whole absurdtravesty of a human being, something terrible in this association inignominy, between the stiff, swaying waxen thing and the condemnedcriminals. Slowly this strange procession passed through the crowd, andthe three figures--the two living, and the gruesome, inanimate parody oflife--were pushed into the circle of faggots in the centre of themarket-place and bound all three to the tall middle pillar. Then thecommon hangman, a huge, heavy-featured Swabian--a butcher by usualoccupation--stepped forward and demanded in the accustomed formula: 'Ifby the will of God and His representatives of law and order on earth, these miserable men were to be sent to their eternal punishment?' Thechief officer of law made answer that such was the 'will of Heaven and ofthe very noble Prince, our Lord Eberhard Ludwig, Duke and Ruler ofWirtemberg. ' Then a member of the privy council rose, and in solemn tonesread the indictment of Friedrich Haberle, the murderer, and JohannesSchwan, the horse-stealer, condemned to be burned at the stake, togetherwith the effigy of the detestable traitor and purloiner of State monies, Christoph Peter Forstner. In spite of the threatened penalty, a murmur ran through the onlookers. They had expected to see a lifeless thing burned, but could they indeedbe forced to witness the burning of two living men? The execution of awitch was another thing--they enjoyed that; but in cold blood to watchtwo human beings, not horrible magicians but merely sinners--to see thesecreatures burned along with that ghastly, lifeless, waxen thing, --thatwas awesome! A woman in one of the windows screamed, a child in the crowdbelow lifted a wailing cry. Perhaps the whole thing was inconsistent!What difference between the holocaust of a witch and that of two vilecriminals? What matter to the dying men that an absurd image should beburned with them? yet there lay some indescribable horror in it. The hangman advanced and applied a flaming torch to the tar-smearedfaggots, which began to hiss and splutter in the still, frosty, winterair. 'Hold!' cried the privy councillor, 'unbind those men! Friedrich Haberleand Johannes Schwan are reprieved from death, their sentence is commutedto flogging and banishment. Beside Christoph Peter Forstner's crimesthese men have hardly transgressed. It is the will of his Highness thatthey should go free, in token of his wise mercy and to let you see howsure is his justice! And against so lenient a Prince has this odioustraitor Forstner conspired! Hangman, do your work upon his image insymbol of his well-deserved punishment, from which the unjust protectionof a foreign monarch shields the actual person of this criminal. But letthis symbol of death be ever present in the souls of all beholders. Suchwill be the bodily fate of all those who conspire against his Highness orhis Highness's government. ' The flames sprang upwards, licking round the waxen figure and scorchingthe arm of one of the criminals who was being released from the cordsthat bound him. Every eye was upon the beauty of the woman seated beside the DukeEberhard Ludwig. In abject submission and deadly hatred they gazed on theface of her who thus threatened them, for they read her threat againstthemselves in every word of the privy councillor's discourse, her menacein each flame which consumed the waxen figure of her enemy, BaronForstner. CHAPTER XVIII THE SINNER'S PALACE FORSTNER'S fate worked marvels in the outward behaviour of theWirtembergers. The strange scene upon the market-place lingered in theirminds, and the actual loss which Forstner sustained in confiscatedproperties, monies, and titles, made the sober burghers careful even inthe private expression of their hatred of the Landhofmeisterin. Theystill spoke of her as the Landverderberin (Land-despoiler), but theygreeted her with reverential demeanour when she thundered through town orvillage in her coach. Of her witchcraft there was no longer any doubt, in all opinions. Forstner had suffered from a grievous disease, they had heard, since thewitch-woman had practised her horrid magic upon his effigy. True, PrelateOsiander had spoken openly of the natural and inevitable effects of suchcruel misfortunes upon a man, already weakly in health, but they arguedthat the churchman was obliged to take this view, and his Reverence'sopinions were rejected. Yet the fierce hatred only smouldered under this calm and respectfuldemeanour, and the Landhofmeisterin knew this right well, for hisHighness's Secret Service reported many things. The vigilance wasunceasing; through the whole country the spies wandered, and many werethe fines they levied for careless words which they called treason. 'Treason to whom, great God!' wailed the wretched people. 'Treason to hisHighness's honour, ' they were told, and knew her Excellency, hisHighness's mistress, was meant under this respectable appellation. There was no denying it: Wirtemberg belonged to the Grävenitzin. EberhardLudwig was a mere shadow at her side, but a loyal shadow which approved, or affected to approve, her every action. The doings at Ludwigsburg were always brilliant, often gay: masques, banquets, music, play-acting, dancing; and even foreign travellersrepaired to the South German court to view the brilliancies whichequalled those of Versailles before the pious, wanton Maintenon hadturned the palace into a house of prayer-meeting, strangely enough almostCalvinistic in its gloom. At Ludwigsburg the months flew by in a whirl of gaiety and elegantrevelry. The groans of an oppressed peasantry, the curses of an overtaxedburgherdom, could not pierce through the chorus of merriment. Smallerstars waxed and waned, favourites of a day disappeared, but theLandhofmeisterin's power grew greater, and her ambition became each daymore tremendous. She was treated with royal honours, and the courtcustoms were so arranged that her kin should take precedency of all. The news of Count Würben's death caused fresh alarms at Stuttgart, for itwas expected that the Countess would again endeavour to remove JohannaElizabetha and marry the Duke. But she had learned her lesson, and nowcontented herself with her towering position as ruler and mistress. Tosuch a personage the minor detail of legal marriage seemed unimportant, though Madame de Maintenon's example rankled in the mind of every royalfavourite. The Landhofmeisterin believed her position to be unassailable, and if athought crossed her mind that all this power and pleasure depended uponthe will of a man and a Prince, that will which is so often betterspelled caprice, still she could not doubt that this one man, one Prince, was constant and stable. From the force of love, of trust, of habit, andof fear he would remain hers till death. And after his Highness's death?For that she was prepared also. 'Gold is power, ' she had said to MonsieurGabriel long ago at Güstrow, and she did not forget this precept. Shespent freely and magnificently, but she amassed an enormous fund inreserve. No year passed without some beautiful property becominghers--broad acres of field and forest, entire villages, old and lordlycastles. To name but a few of these: Gochsheim, Welzheim, Brenz, Stetten(the Duchess-mother's dower-house), Freudenthal, the Castle of Urach, andthe Château Joyeux La Favorite. Her treasury was well filled, for shelevied taxes in the Duke's name, and they flowed into her privy purse:gold heavy with the curses of a people. Her dream of an empire where sheshould hold secret dominion over the wealth and enterprise of a vastJewish community had been realised in a modified fashion. She had causedthe stringent laws against the Jews to be relaxed; they were permitted toworship openly; a synagogue was erected in Stuttgart, and Jews couldacquire civil rights. At her village of Freudenthal she had founded aJewish settlement. Old Frau Hazzim died there in peace, blessing the nameof the friend of Israel. The Jews, in return, served the Grävenitz well, and she had great sums safely awaiting her out of Wirtemberg. All this inpreparation for the death of the man she loved! Yet, after all, the mostloving and perfect wives make these arrangements if they can: thedower-house filled with linen and silver, and the jointure; but it willever be regarded as a heinous offence for the mistress to provide forherself. These condemnations of ours are a part of the spontaneous humanjudgment, and it would not be entirely human were it not gloriouslyinconsistent. Freudenthal was the place she loved best of all her possessions, and hereshe gathered together the most beautiful objects: pictures, Italianinlaid cabinets, graceful French furniture, wonderful silken hangings, carved ivories, many rare books. The gardens were laid out by her owndesign. Freudenthal lies sequestered from the world at the edge of alittle valley, and close behind the village rise long, low, woodedhills--the Stromberg, dark with fir-trees, whose sombre tone is relievedby groves of beeches. Below Freudenthal verdant fields sweep away in softundulations, broken here and there by beautiful orchards. The Grävenitzknew that an elaborate garden would be a false note in this rusticserenity, and her Freudenthal garden was designed in a simple style. Shehad found there a peasant's orchard, with many ancient fruit-trees;these she left untouched, merely sowing fine grass instead of the cornwhich waves beneath the apple- and pear-trees in every Wirtembergorchard. The actual garden she planted with bowers of roses and beautifulflowering borders along broad grass pathways. The only artificialembellishments were two flights of stone steps leading to simplefountains with large stone basins, where the water gurgled and splashedlazily. 'Frisoni, build the house not in the new style, I pray you, ' shehad said, 'some graceful Italian simplicity were better here'; and hebuilt a very pleasant mansion, unturreted, without tortured elegancies--along, low, broad-windowed country retreat, each proportion perfect, eachline harmonious. What a wealth of flowers bloomed in the Freudenthalgarden! How fragrant were the roses, the lilacs, the jasmine! Here the Landhofmeisterin was wont to linger if his Highness were forcedto leave her for a few days. Here she would live a short span of peacefulhours, ambition banished awhile, affairs of State forgotten. Here shewould sing again the songs she loved so well. 'Let us go to Freudenthal, et chantons les romances d'autrefois, ' shewould say to Madame de Ruth and Zollern. Then his Highness would comeriding down the long, straight, narrow road from Ludwigsburg. He woulddismount at the orchard gate and call to her: 'Wilhelmine! Philomèle!'and for an hour the glamour of youth and an echo of the early days of agreat passion would return to them. Sometimes he would pray her to singagain the melody which she had sung in the Rothenwald when they had firstloved; but alas! her voice was not the same. The beautiful notes werethere, the consummate art, but the world-hardness had laid its touch uponher very music. True, Wilhelmine singing was always a being much moretender, more pure than Wilhelmine woman of the world, still her voiceregistered the hardening of her soul. Zollern said that when she sang'she expressed all she was not, ' and it was a cruel truth. Sometimesthere rang for an instant an infinite yearning, but it vanished, and thecold, perfect, artificially passionate utterance resumed sway. Now and then Eberhard Ludwig still wandered in the forest. He would leavethe company of hunters, and followed by faithful old Mélac, thewolf-hound, he escaped to revel in the silence and beauty of thebeechwood. Often he was terribly sad in those days. Wilhelmine perplexedhim; it was the hardness in her heart which made him suffer. He wincedwhen he heard even her glorious voice fraught with this new soul ofharshness. Often he endeavoured to tell her of his sadness, but shelaughed at him. What more could he crave from her, indeed? She loved him, she was true tohim. Alas! he could not explain that it was the essence of her love whichhad changed. She had no time to be sad, no time therefore to be tender. Poor Eberhard Ludwig! poor brilliant, successful Wilhelmine! And yet, whocould blame her if she was greatly occupied? She was chief minister _defacto_ of a country; she was finance minister of a queen, she was herselfqueen; she was Master of the Ceremonies to a court; she was purveyor ofamusements to a great prince; yet she had lost the faculty to understandthat this prince agonised because she was too occupied to give himtenderness. Passion she gave him, and brilliant gaiety; she tyrannised, flattered, charmed, cajoled him, what more could he desire? Only, hedreamed of the impossible; he dreamed of the love and friendship whichremain, of the roses and kisses which do not fade and lose their savour. Of course, it was impossible; but from a dream's non-fulfilment a tragedywas preparing. The tragedy of satiety and inevitable disappointment. * * * * * All Wirtemberg was in the Landhofmeisterin's grasp, but two thingsdisturbed her entire enjoyment of power: the continued residence ofJohanna Elizabetha in Stuttgart, and the unrelenting disapproval of theEvangelical Church towards the unholy court of Ludwigsburg. The Catholic Church, through Zollern, coquetted with the Landhofmeisterinin the hope of winning Wirtemberg's allegiance by her influence. But theProtestant community, headed by Prelate Osiander, was openly hostile. TheLandhofmeisterin, piqued by this, made overtures offering to endoworphanages, schools, and to repair churches; but though the Church, afterthe manner of Churches, swallowed the gold greedily, still it refused toswallow the Landhofmeisterin so long as she remained in deadly and opensin. To oust the Duchess was impossible; therefore it was deemed sufficientthat she should be deserted and apparently forgotten, and surely in timethe Church would permit itself to be mollified, and if cajolery failed, the Grävenitz dreamed of using the well-worn threat of Roman conversion. Meanwhile she was ruler of the land, and she thought it preposterous thatin the State Church services her great name went unmentioned in theprayers to God for the salvation of Wirtemberg's ruler. The Duke wasinduced to intimate to Osiander his wish that the Landhofmeisterin shouldbe prayed for when they interceded for himself. Osiander treated thisrequest with contempt, and returned no answer. Then the matter rested fortwo years, and it seemed as though both the Duke and his mistress hadforgotten it. One day Osiander was summoned to Ludwigsburg. He could not refuse to obeythe ruler of his country, and though he suspected the summons to be intruth from the Landhofmeisterin, it was signed and sealed by EberhardLudwig. So the Prelate rode to Ludwigsburg. It was as he had feared, and he was conducted to her Excellency'sreception room in the Corps de Logis. Bowing deeply, the page ushered thePrelate into the large apartment and retired, and Osiander found himselfalone in the presence of the great Landhofmeisterin. She came forward graciously and greeted the churchman with a profoundlyreverential courtesy. He returned her salutation coldly and turned awayhis eyes, for her beauty was dazzling still, and he feared he might beinfluenced. 'I think, your Excellency, ' he said quietly, 'I think his Highness theDuke wished to speak with me?' 'Monseigneur Osiander, I have ventured to request your presenceconcerning a matter which has been long in my thoughts, ' she said in hermost sonorous tones, and with that smile upon her lips which few couldresist; but Osiander observed her coldly and gravely. 'I pray you be seated, ' she continued, and pointed to a largered-cushioned chair, one which Zollern had brought from Rome, the typicaldignified, high-backed chair of the Roman Cardinal. To Osiander its veryshape was Papistical. She flung herself down upon a gilt tabouret which stood near. It was muchlower than the Prelate's seat, and he could not fail to look down intothe deep décolletage of her bodice. He moved away a little, while a faintflush rose to his cheeks. 'I am listening, Excellency, ' he said; 'but you will pardon me if I urgeyou to be brief, for I have much business to transact this afternoon. ' 'Ah! Prelate, it is so difficult to be brief with those who do notcomprehend!' She leaned towards him. 'I have ever--respected you, Monseigneur. ' The Prelate drew back from her. In his mind he repeated over and overagain, as though the phrase were an incantation against some evil spirit:'The Jezebel flatters me, the Jezebel flatters me, ' but man, he could notremain insensible to the woman who thus appealed to him, though priest, he abhorred her. All her charm was in her eyes, her smile; there was afragrance about her--an exhilaration. 'Madame, it were better if you respected God's laws, ' he said sternly. His severity seemed to him as a barrier which he raised between his humanweakness and her evil fascination. She sprang up; actress that she was, she meant to convince this man by a grand and tragical scene. She knewhim to be too simple, too unsubtle, to detect the art which lent powerand pathos to her words. Besides, she was well in her rôle, it amusedher. 'Ah! you priest of God! I appeal to you, not concerning the necessarilyunjust laws of men, but concerning the law of God and Nature. See, it isno law of God's that I have transgressed. Remember, I am truly the wifeof Serenissimus, blessed by prayer. My second marriage is nothing--merelya political arrangement. And my sin, what is it? I found a good mandragging out the days of his youth in sadness beside a woman who couldnot understand him--a woman only his wife in name. I gave my life to him, I am true to him. The law of man refuses me justice, but God does not, cannot; and I appeal to you, as God's representative on earth, to give memy spiritual right: to include me in your prayers. ' She sank back uponthe tabouret. The Prelate was astounded. The question of theLandhofmeisterin's being mentioned in the public prayers for the head ofthe State came back to him, but it was incredible, preposterous. No; thiswoman surely sought the grace of God. She was earnest, repentance hadcome to her. She desired his prayers. Thus well had Wilhelmine gauged thePrelate's character, his incapacity for detecting the play-actress in thepassionate, imploring woman. The pastor of souls was softened immediately by the vision of rescuingthis strayed spirit. 'My daughter, ' he said solemnly, 'if you indeed desire my prayers, I willintercede daily for you. I shall pray that your heart shall be steadfast, pray for God's pardon for your evil life. But I ask you to combattemptation with all your strength. May Christ in His mercy help you. ' The emotion of his great earnestness rendered the good man's voicetremulous. 'I thank you, you are generous to me. ' She reached him her hand, and heheld it gently between both of his. 'But, Prelate, ' she continued, 'is itnot written in the Bible that when two or three are gathered together Godwill grant their requests? I would fain have prayer offered for me inchurch. ' The Prelate started; yet the demand seemed too outrageous. He could notcredit that this sinner wished for a nation's prayers as though she were, in truth, the Duke's legal wife. No, no; she was a repentant sinnerseeking the grace of God. Far be it from him, a sinner, to refuse hishelp. 'You mean, your Excellency, that you wish me to pray silently for youwhen the faithful are gathered together?' he said tentatively. 'No, I do not mean that, ' she answered quickly; 'I wish a prayer to besaid aloud for my salvation. ' The Prelate was overwhelmed. 'Surely you do not wish to make public confession of repentance beforethe congregation?' he questioned. The woman seemed mad to desire thus toproclaim her shame, and yet he was filled with reverence for the faithwhich could prompt so proud a being to humble herself in the eyes of allmen. 'Monseigneur le Prélat Osiander, ' she said after a pause, 'I am theDuke's wife before God, and it is my husband his Highness's command andmine, that my name should be included in the official prayer for the headof this Dukedom. I am ruler I would have you know. ' The preposterous demand was made, Osiander could no longer doubt. It wasno repentant sinner with whom he dealt, but the all-powerful mistress whohad but stooped for a moment to cajole him in the hope of gaining heraim, and who, finding him uncompromising, had resumed her imperioushabit. The Prelate was aghast, indignant. He rose stiffly from his chair. 'Your Excellency cannot have considered this command, or even you, Madame, would not have dared to make it. The only prayer that can be saidfor you in church is that of intercession for the sinful. ' The Landhofmeisterin approached closely. 'Will you accede to my request? If not, you shall obey my order or itwill be the worse for you. ' She was beside herself with anger. She hatedthe word Sin; she always said it represented the bourgeois' criticism ofthe life of gentlemen. 'No, Excellency, I will not obey you. With my consent the pure service ofthe worship of God shall never be sullied with your name. ' Osiander wasthe sterner, the more relentless, because of his momentary weakness andcredulity. 'You are obliged to pray for me, ' she retorted mockingly; 'each time youpetition Heaven for the health and happiness of the Duke, you pray forme! For me, do you hear? I am his health and his happiness. ' To Osiander this was rank blasphemy, and, good man though he was, he losthis temper. 'Indeed, Excellency, you say rightly. You are truly included in theprayers of the congregation, for each time we say "Lord, deliver us fromevil, " we pray for the end of your infamous reign. ' The Grävenitz laughed harshly. All traces of her softer mood, of herfascination, had gone past; she had become once more the cold, proudwoman, the tyrant whose statue-like beauty seemed to the Wirtembergers tobe some devil's mask of false outward fairness, covering a mass of innercorruption. 'Is this the only answer you have, Osiander?' she asked roughly. 'Yes, your Excellency, and if it were to be my last word on earth. ' The Grävenitz looked at him fixedly for a moment; after all, she ratheradmired his intrepidity. 'Your audience is at an end, ' she said haughtily, and bowed slightly asthough she were really some rightful sovereign dismissing a frowardcourtier. The Prelate returned her salute equally slightly, and turning away with asigh, he left her presence. In later years the estimable man was wont to aver he had never been sonear to insulting a woman, yet he would add: 'But she was great in her very wickedness! Surely she must have been oneof the angels fallen from Heaven and apprenticed in Hell! for of a truthshe was in evil as compared with ordinary sinners, what in holiness is asaint compared with ordinary good people. A wonderful woman, alas!' Ah, Osiander, did she leave some clinging fragrance, some spark of hersubtle charm, to tingle for ever through your pure, simple soul? * * * * * In 1716 the Erbprinz Friedrich Ludwig had espoused Henriette Marie ofBrandenburg-Schwedt, a pretty and most correct Princess who possessed, among other graceful talents, a perfect genius for tasteful dressing. Themarriage festivities had not taken place at Stuttgart, in order to avoidthe obvious complications of the meeting of the bridegroom's parents. TheErbprinz hardly knew his father, for Eberhard Ludwig had permitted him toremain chiefly with the Duchess in Stuttgart. At least the unfortunateJohanna Elizabetha was granted the happiness of watching over her gentle, sickly son. The boy had led a dull life enough in deserted Stuttgart, andhis natural aptitude for music and study had thus found free scope. Immediately after his marriage, however, he was commanded to reside atLudwigsburg, where a fine suite of apartments was prepared for him andhis bride. Friedrich Ludwig protested that he desired to remain in Stuttgart, butthe Landhofmeisterin willed it otherwise, and Serenissimus enforced herwill. Henriette Marie played her part in this difficult position with dignityand well-bred tact. She was perfectly correct in her demeanour towardsthe Landhofmeisterin, yet she kept her at a distance and gently rebuttedthe mistress's friendly advances, and refused to notice her subsequentsneers. Twice during each week the Erbprincessin drove to Stuttgart tovisit her unhappy mother-in-law, and she was careful to informSerenissimus of every intended visit. 'Have I your Highness's permissionto journey to Stuttgart?' and 'I thank your Highness, I shall start thisafternoon. ' The Landhofmeisterin raged, but she was powerless against theErbprincessin's quiet dignity and amiable, obstinate coldness. Then, too, Henriette Marie's wardrobe was a source of much annoyance to Wilhelmine;she feared the younger woman had finer gowns than she. In fine, it wasthe tragi-comedy of that painful jealousy of the woman approaching fortyyears for the youth of twenty summers. The Erbprinz, however, could not resist the Landhofmeisterin's charm. Shesang him to a very frenzy of delight; she assumed a tender, motherlyanxiety over his delicate health--an anxiety which she made charminglyfriendly; while she avoided the tiresome questions, the constant openobservation, the galling reminders of his weakness in the presence ofothers, all that which poor, really tender, desperately anxious JohannaElizabetha had done, wearying her son, shaming him with his physicaldelicacy. The Erbprincessin bore a son in August 1718--a weakly child, the pictureof his feeble father. The little life's flame flickered and shudderedthrough one bitter Wirtemberg winter, and in February 1719 passed awayinto the best sleep the baby had ever known. Here again the Landhofmeisterin triumphed over Johanna Elizabetha. Sheknew how to console the Erbprinz with words of hope, how to turn histhoughts away from the empty gilded cradle where had lain that fraillittle being whom poor Friedrich Ludwig had loved with all his gentleheart. Alas! Johanna Elizabetha was too sad herself to be able to cheersorrow, and she invariably met her stricken son with floods of tears, doleful questionings, torrents of lamentations, and he went back toLudwigsburg--and the Landhofmeisterin--for consolation. Thus things were fairly smooth at Ludwigsburg, and to Johanna Elizabethait seemed like some wonderful, illicit heaven where her husband revelledand whence she was shut out. She sometimes dreamed of breaking into thisElysium, of expelling the regnant devil and rescuing Eberhard Ludwig. 'Perhaps, if your Highness spoke with Serenissimus things might change, 'counselled Madame de Stafforth, and the Duchess prayed for strength toconquer the fortress of vice, Ludwigsburg. For years she hesitated. Indeed, she felt it would be almost immodest to enter the Sinner'sPalace, but the day came when she decided to risk herself in theendeavour to turn his Highness's heart back to purity--purity andherself. She dressed herself in her sombre best and ordered her coach. Madame de Stafforth volunteered for service, but the Duchess said shewould go alone. She was very brave and terribly afraid. Through the waving, yellow corn-fields, bordered by fruit-trees for themost part, or else lying like a narrow white riband in the midst of thebroad rich valley, the road wound from Stuttgart to the Erlachhof forestand the palace of Ludwigsburg. It was early August when the Duchessjourneyed thither, and the corn stood high and golden in the hazy warmthof the sunshine. Far away to the right the hills rose blue and veiled, and to the left the grim fortress of Hohenasperg dominated the smiling, fruitful plain with frowning menace. Johanna Elizabetha's eyes sought thedistant mound where she knew lay the prison fort; perchance Serenissimuswould answer her pleadings by imprisonment in that dark fastness. Her coach lumbered slowly on. The Duchess's horses were old and littleused to work, and the journey seemed endless. At length the avenueleading to the residence gates was reached, and in the cool shade of thechestnut-trees the Duchess's courage returned. After all, it was herright to enter any Wirtemberg palace, she told herself; yet a chillforeboding gripped her. Should she turn back? The coach came to a jolting halt, and she heard her outrider explainingto the sentry at the gate that she was the Duchess journeying to thepalace. The man seemed doubtful, but after several minutes' parley thelittle cortège of two outriders, an old shabby coach, two troopers of aWirtemberg regiment for escort (no Silver Guard here!), and aheart-broken woman, was allowed to proceed. The palace of Ludwigsburg lay in the August afternoon haze. HerHighness's eyes wandered over the vast pile: the long, low orangery tothe south; the numerous rounded roofs of the palace which seemed like theamassment of a group of giant red-brown tortoises; the thousand largewindows glinting in the sunshine, the stately gardens. The Duchess sigheddeeply as her coach rolled down the broad street which led to the palacegates. She saw the fine houses which bordered this street on one sideonly, like so many courtiers turning their smiling faces towards thegardens, the palace, and--the Landhofmeisterin. All this, then, Eberhard Ludwig had raised to honour the whim of acourtesan, of an unknown adventuress from Mecklemburg, while she, theDuchess, legal wife, princess of a noble house--she was shut out, banished to a grim haunted castle in a deserted town! She wrung her handstogether. She was helpless, hopeless. Several courtiers, lingering in the street, stared curiously at theshabby coach. One of the French dressmakers, hurrying from the palace, stood stock still in surprise at seeing so inelegant an equipage in thestreet of magnificent 'Louisbourg. ' The Duchess, with the morbidsensitiveness of a deeply wounded, slighted woman, winced under thescornful inspection of the pert little dressmaker. Now the coach entered the first gate of the palace, and once more theoutrider was obliged to proclaim and assure the identity of thecarriage's occupant. This time the sentry flatly refused to believe him, and it was necessary to call the Captain of the Guard. Here theDuchess's spirit asserted itself. She summoned the Captain to the door ofthe coach and haughtily bid him admit her immediately. But the Captain, ayouth appointed by the Grävenitz, feared her Excellency's displeasuremore than God or man, and though he was gentleman enough to treat theDuchess courteously, he begged her to wait while he repaired to theLandhofmeisterin for instructions. No one was admitted to the palacewithout permission from her Excellency, he said. The Duchess inquired if Madame de Ruth was in the castle. At least, shehoped that for the sake of old memories the grande Maîtresse du Palais, 'Dame de Déshonneur, ' as she had once named her, would have sufficienthumanity to help her now. Madame de Ruth was in the castle, the Captainreplied, but she was very old and infirm, and he feared to disturb herafternoon rest. Very old and infirm? The Duchess sighed. Ah! many yearshad passed since she had seen the garrulous lady. Alas! she was no longeryoung herself. God in heaven! why did that sinful, triumphant wantonalone retain her beauty? She had been told that the Landhofmeisterin, like some evil giant tree, seemed to grow more beautiful, moreresplendent each year. It was not true; for Time had set his cruelfingermarks upon Wilhelmine, but her wonderful health and her complaisantknowledge of success gave her a seeming youth. True, the pert littleFrench dressmaker could have told the Duchess of violent scenes overgowns made to the measurements of former years, which could not fit herExcellency; but the courtesan pays a homage to Venus, offering up thetribute of powder, paint, and gorgeous clothes, and Venus responds by agift of seeming youth; while the virtuous woman is punished for hervirtue and her neglect of the Goddess of Appearance, by a shorter span ofbeauty and youth. Yet there is an unerring justice in the world. WhenTime has worked his inexorable will, and powder, paint, and craftyclothing can no longer hide his ravages, then the virtuous womantriumphs, probably for the first time in her life. They are both old, sheand the courtesan, but she is sometimes beautiful--old, grey, and sere, but venerable, charming--and little children love her, and younger womenbring their troubles--ay, and their joys, reverently to her, feeling abenediction in the touch of the pure, withered hand. While thecourtesan--alas! a ridiculous garish absurdity, a grim ghost of pastmerriment, a horrid relic of forgotten debauches, a painted harridan atwhom the boys jeer when she passes down the street. Here is one of God'sgreat judgments and one of Nature's object-lessons. But Johanna Elizabetha did not think of all this as she sat waiting atthe gates of Ludwigsburg Palace; her mind was centred upon theprobability of Madame de Ruth's kind heart prompting her to assist hererstwhile mistress. The minutes dragged on. Old and infirm, he had said;perhaps she came slowly down the stairs? Ah! at last! the Duchess heardthe well-remembered voice in the distance talking ceaselessly. Then shesaw Madame de Ruth, leaning on the arm of the Captain of the Guard, coming slowly towards her. A deep courtesy, and Madame de Ruth stood at the coach door. In atremulous voice the Duchess informed her that she would speak withSerenissimus on urgent business, but that the guard refused heradmittance and she had therefore begged her to come to her assistance. 'Aha! your Highness craves the assistance of a Dame de Déshonneur? Nay, 'she added in a gentler tone, 'I fear I have not the power to admit yourHighness save to my own apartments. ' The Duchess bent forward. 'Madame de Ruth, ' she said solemnly, 'you arean old woman and so am I; we have not many years before God judges us atHis Eternal Tribunal. I pray you, by your hope of His mercy, to havemercy on me, help me this once. ' Madame de Ruth looked at her; indeed, the Duchess's tragic face wasenough to soften even a harder heart than beat under the old courtesan'spadded, beribboned corsage. 'Well, your Highness, come with me! I will endeavour to summonSerenissimus to my apartments, ' she said. 'It will not be easy, and Ihope your Highness is prepared to offer me apartments in Stuttgart? I mayrequire them after this! My friend the Landhofmeisterin is averse to anyone being admitted to the palace without her permission. ' They passed through a maze of long, lofty, pink marble walled corridors, and up several winding stone stairs, ere they reached Madame de Ruth'sapartments. Here the old courtesan left her Highness, while she withdrewto make arrangements for the Duke to be summoned. In truth, she hastilydespatched a billet to the Landhofmeisterin informing her of theextraordinary occurrence, and begging her for instructions. Even Madamede Ruth was under the Grävenitz's iron rule and dared not offend her. Thecurt answer came back written in her Excellency's energetic, elegantwriting: 'How is her Highness's appearance?' Madame de Ruth repliedequally curtly with the one word 'Hideous!' and a moment after the paperwas returned to her: 'Let him see her. --Wilhelmine von Würben und vonGrävenitz, Landhofmeisterin. ' It was a curious interview between Eberhard Ludwig and his deserted wife;strained, unnatural, terrible, this meeting after long years, andinsensibly they fell into their old attitudes: he wearied, irritated, coldly courteous; she tearful, imploring, tiresome. He told her that shewas nothing to him, and that she had no further claims upon him; heprovided residence, appanage, everything to which she had a right. Sheresponded that she claimed his love, his company, and in answer he boweddeeply and left her presence. Madame de Ruth returning to her rooms found a fainting woman prone uponthe floor, and to her credit be it written, she tended the Duchessgently. When her Highness recovered from her swoon she requested Madamede Ruth to lead her to the palace chapel. 'I would fain leave a prayer here! A foolish fancy, you will say, but thesorrowful are often foolish, ' she said bitterly. Madame de Ruth guided the Duchess through another maze of long corridors, and ushered her into the tapestried room which is behind the palacegallery. Her Highness gazed with displeasure at the luxurious furnishingof the Ducal pew, its gilded armchairs, red silk cushions, soft red silkpraying hassocks, and the gilt casement looking down into the church. The church itself, designed by the Italian Papist, Frisoni, showed awealth of delicate pink brocade and of rich azure hangings, of goldenangels, of smiling goddesses whose voluptuous faces bore so unmistakablea likeness to the Landhofmeisterin. With a sigh the Duchess fell on herknees. 'God is everywhere, ' she reminded herself, 'even in this frivolouschapel. ' She prayed earnestly for some time, and, rising, would haveturned to go, when her eye was caught by a finely sculptured medallion, placed high up to the right of the much gilded and ornamented pulpit. Itssubject was Truth, and this severe personage stood represented by acharming shepherdess with rose-wreathed mirror, and flower-bedecked, coquettish hat, bare breast, and a skirt which, for no particular reasonunless it were the showing of the model's beautiful limbs, suddenly fellon one side from the hip to the ankle of this remarkable figure of Truth. Here again the face was unmistakable, and the sculptor had taken immensepains to make this medallion a masterly portrait of the Landhofmeisterin. With a gesture of despair and disgust the Duchess turned away and hurriedthrough the corridors. Placing her hand on Madame de Ruth's arm shepressed her guide forward at so rapid a pace that the older woman almostfell. 'Quick, Madame! quick, Madame! take me from this terrible place!' theDuchess repeated. It seemed to her that Wilhelmine's face, her triumphantbeauty, pursued her at every yard of the Sinner's Palace. Even in thechurch she knew that each figure, feigning to beautify the House of God, was in reality merely another homage to the great mistress, anothersubtle compliment of the architect Frisoni's for the Landhofmeisterin. Madame de Ruth accompanied her Highness to her coach, and in broken wordsthe Duchess thanked her. 'If Fate turns against you here, Madame, youwill find a welcome at Stuttgart in memory of your kindness on this mostmiserable day, ' she said. But Madame de Ruth shook her head. She was ofthe Ludwigsburg world, and when Frivolity forgot her she knew that shewould need no other refuge than six foot of earth beside her dead child. Wearily the Duchess took her way homeward. There was no spark of hopeleft in her heart now; she only raged that she had humbled herself, andto no avail. The magnificence of Ludwigsburg smote her as an insult. Sheshuddered at the remembrance of the endless reproductions of her enemy'sfeatures: the whole palace was a marble homage to the Grävenitz, abeautiful, enduring, kingly homage. But the palace chapel! Ah! that was the worst of all, a very blasphemy. And yet how wondrous beautiful it was, this palace. She closed her eyes, but in the darkness she saw again the smiling faceof the woman who had ruined her life; she saw the graceful figure in thechapel medallion, the voluptuous parted lips of the carven angel who heldthe canopy over the pulpit, the delicately chiselled features of theAphrodites and the nymphs which she had been forced to pass in thepalace, and each one of which bore a resemblance to the Duke's mistress. The sun was setting behind Hohenasperg, and a blood-red glow lingered inthe sky over the south-westerly hills of the Rothwald. The peasants weregoing homeward after their day's work; already their sickles had cutgreat gaping wounds in the waving, yellow beauty of the corn-fields. Afresh north breeze sprang up and sent the white dust whirling in cloudsbehind the Duchess's coach. And the north wind brought Johanna Elizabethaanother pang, for it wafted to her a sound of music from Ludwigsburg. Themusicians of the Silver Guards were playing a merry strain in the palacegardens. To the forsaken, humiliated woman this moment was symbolic of her wholelife: she journeying alone down the dusty road towards the gatheringgloom over Stuttgart; Eberhard Ludwig and the Landhofmeisterin at theirbeautiful palace living in music and revelry. CHAPTER XIX THE GREAT TRIUMPH AND THE SHADOW FOR years Germany had gossiped over the so-called 'Persian Court' ofLeopold Eberhard of Wirtemberg, Duke of Mömpelgard. This prince had beenso pampered by his mother, Anne de Coligny, that he reached the age oftwelve years without having learned to read or write. When theover-tender mother died, the boy's father, Duke George, took hisdunce-son's education in hand; but this gentleman was peculiar in hisnotions of the training of young minds. French and German he deemedunnecessary trivialities, and the Christian religion a banality. Insteadof these prosaic lessons the boy was instructed in the Arabic, Hebrew, and Persian tongues, and, in lieu of the Bible, the Koran was placed inhis hands. A handsome, reckless, passionate youth, imbued with the comfortabletheories of polygamy, Leopold Eberhard was destined to succeed his fatherin the family honours, and achieve a course of Persian living which, while practised frequently under other names at many courts, astoundedGermany by this legalised manner of illegality. One lady was already the wife of Leopold Eberhard. She was the daughterof a baker, and had held the post of housemaid at the small court of Oelsin Silesia. Having succeeded in espousing a gentleman of the name ofZedlitz, she turned her attention to the eighteen-year-old Erbprinz ofMömpelgard; and her husband, Herr von Zedlitz, not approving of this newrelationship, she divorced him and married Leopold. At first thisundistinguished alliance displeased the old Duke of Mömpelgard, and heendeavoured to disinherit Leopold Eberhard; but when the ex-housemaidbore a fine son, the grandfather relented, and the couple took residenceat Mömpelgard, the lady being created by the Emperor Countess of Sponeck. Now, in Mömpelgard resided an aged captain of the Imperial army, oneRichard Curie, a tailor by trade, who, having enlisted in the army andrisen to the rank of captain, changed his uneuphonious name to Monsieurl'Espérance, married a Mömpelgard butcher's daughter, and settled in hernative town. Four fine daughters were born of this marriage. LeopoldEberhard cast his eyes upon these beautiful girls and remembered hisMahometan principles. At this juncture, Duke George conveniently died, and Leopold Eberhard became Duke. Immediately all four damselsl'Espérance were appointed ladies' companions to the Countess of Sponeck. The eldest, Sébastiane, was the first object of Leopold's affection, butthe Countess Sponeck suspected the intrigue and remonstrated with herspouse. To divert her jealousy from Sébastiane the Duke paid sham courtto the youngest sister, Polyrène, but the playacting turned reality, andended in serious passion. However, this episode with the second of thel'Espérances soon came to an end, for Polyrène fell dead during a gavotteat court. Great mourning, and Leopold sought consolation with anothersister l'Espérance, Henriette Hedwig, wife of a lieutenant in theMömpelgard guards, Herr von Sandersleben. This gentleman objected, divorced Henriette Hedwig, and left the Duke's service. The Countess of Sponeck and the two sisters Espérance resided under oneroof. We are told that it was hell on earth: they fought, they scratched, they yelled, they bit, till the Duke arrived on the scene, parted thecombatants, and usually thrashed--the Countess of Sponeck! All Germanyknew, watched, and laughed. At length it could be borne no longer, and the Countess of Sponeck, withher children, retired to a distant castle. Then Henriette Hedwig died, and the Mömpelgard court seemed tidied up a little, although Henrietteleft five children in the castle, two of whom called Leopold father. But there still remained a fourth sister Espérance, Elizabeth Charlotte. This lady's ambition soared higher than that of the other three sisters. She made Leopold divorce the Countess of Sponeck. The other sisters hadbeen called the legal wives of the Duke, according to his Mahometanprinciples, but Elizabeth Charlotte insisted upon a greater surety, andLeopold acquiesced, as usual, when his affections were engaged. TheCountess of Sponeck being divorced, he married the fourth and last sisterEspérance. He spoke of poor Sponeck as 'The Widowed Lady, ' and ElizabethCharlotte as 'The Reigning Lady. ' Now came the complications concerning the offspring of the Duke's variouswives. To annoy poor Sponeck, Leopold in 1715 had entered into a contractwith Wirtemberg, whereby he declared his distant cousin, Eberhard Ludwig, heir to Mömpelgard; but he soon repented of this admission, and besoughtthe Emperor to legitimatise his children: those morganatically born bythe Countess of Sponeck, and the rest of the brood from the Espérancesisters. The Emperor refused. Then Leopold appealed to Louis XIV. , who also proved obdurate. Finallyduring the Regency, Leopold repaired to Paris in person and prayed theRegent, Duc d'Orléans, to legitimatise his progeny. 'A Lutheran princewas legally permitted to marry whom, when, and as often as he wished, ' heaverred. This precept being received with mockery, he expatiated onPersian customs, and declared himself a believer in the Koran alone. ButParis laughed at him, and after making himself ridiculous at the court ofFrance during eight months, Leopold returned to Mömpelgard. Then hemarried his son, George Leopold, Count of Sponeck, to his daughterEleonore Charlotte of Sandersleben; and his son, Karl Leopold ofSandersleben, to his daughter Leopoldine Eberhardine of Sponeck. Thisdouble marriage was a magnificent ceremony at Mömpelgard, and DukeLeopold was wild with delight at the revival of 'the beautiful oldPersian custom. ' But Germany, and even France, stood aghast at thehorrible affair. To celebrate his four children's nuptials, Leopold gavea grand ball. In the midst of this festivity he was struck down withapoplexy. The sisters Espérance, Sébastiane and Elizabeth Charlotte, fledbefore the approach of death, but honest Sponeck hastened back from herdistant castle, and Leopold died in her arms. Eberhard Ludwig of Wirtemberg laid claim to Mömpelgard, but he wasobliged to send troops to seize his inheritance. Then the bastards in abody commenced legal proceedings against the rightful heir, and againsteach other. Europe looked on, scandalised and amused. The eldest Sponeck and his sister-bride hurried to Paris--'Prince etPrincesse de Montbéliard, ' they styled themselves--and as they wereyoung, handsome, and seemingly wealthy, many persons of note espousedtheir sorry cause. Eberhard Ludwig, who now added to his titles that of Duke of Mömpelgard, waited patiently for some time ere he took possession in person of hisnew domain. His troops were there, and Friedrich Grävenitz had beendespatched to take direction of affairs. Meanwhile, some of the bastards were raising doleful cries in Vienna andin Paris, but a few remained obstinately at Mömpelgard, and to FriedrichGrävenitz was assigned the task of removing them before Serenissimus madehis state entry. The Landhofmeisterin had intimated her intention of accompanying hisHighness on this official journey, and there had ensued a sharp quarrel, by letter, between the lady and her brother in Mömpelgard. She won theday, of course, as usual, yet her heart was heavy in this hour of hergreatest triumph, for the Duke grew colder to her each day. Madame deRuth, her wily counsellor, had died a few months after the DuchessJohanna Elizabetha's visit to Ludwigsburg, and the courtiers hadmarvelled at the Landhofmeisterin's passionate grief. She had followedthe old courtesan's coffin to Neuhaus, and had seen her laid to restbeside the little mound of the child's grave. And the Grävenitz hadrefused to be comforted. Zollern almost deserted Ludwigsburg after his old mistress's death. Hewithdrew to his castle, and only at rare intervals could he be persuadedto visit the Duke and the Landhofmeisterin. Yet the Grävenitz's power was unabated; in point of fact, it seemed togrow more absolute; but the courtiers noticed her melancholy, and whilesome put it down to her grief at Madame de Ruth's death, others observedthe Duke's colder manner, and predicted the Landhofmeisterin's downfall. It was a blow to these prophets when the news was confirmed that theGrävenitz was to accompany Serenissimus on his state entry to Mömpelgard. There were various intrigues to prevent her Excellency from carrying outthe project. Chief among these was a riot at Mömpelgard, which wasentirely organised and stirred up by discontented Wirtembergers. Itrequired little to enflame the Mömpelgarders, for they hated the veryname of Duke's mistress from past Espérance experiences, and theLandhofmeisterin's doings in Wirtemberg were well known. Friedrich Grävenitz wrote at great length to his sister (he always wrotelengthily, and the most trivial letter he alluded to as 'my business, 'saying pompously, 'I have been working'). So he wrote at enormous lengthto Wilhelmine, advising her to refrain from journeying to Mömpelgard, butthe Landhofmeisterin only laughed, and hurried on the preparations forthe official entry. Shortly before this time a new body-guard had been enrolled atLudwigsburg. It did not oust the famous Silver Guard from favour, and theCadets à Cheval also retained their proud position, but the newbody-guard was a most resplendent corps, composed entirely of gentlemenof noble birth. One of Madame de Ruth's last witticisms had been tocompare this 'Chevaliergarde' to the French and Austrian Chanoinesses. 'Really, Monseigneur, ' she had told Serenissimus, 'you should make itcompulsory for the gentlemen of the Chevaliergarde to have sixty-fourquarterings and pure morals!' Of course there was jealousy between the Silver Guard and the Chevaliertroop, and the young Cadets à Cheval looked with displeasure at the newguard. But the Landhofmeisterin settled that as she did all things; shedecreed that when the Cadets reached the age of twenty-one years itshould be open to them to serve in the permanent Chevaliergarde, or toapply for officers' commissions in the Silver Guard, and the latterappointments being perforce limited in number, it soon became therecognised thing for the Cadets who wished to remain in the militaryservice to enter the Chevaliergarde. The Landhofmeisterin ruled even thearmy. Her Excellency had instituted an Order. His Highness had his St. Hubertusto give, and she desired to have an Order of her own to distribute. Everybody laughed covertly, but the insignia of the Order of the WhiteTrefoil were much coveted nevertheless, and the white riband andbeautifully designed three-leaved badge of the Grävenitz's Order wereproudly worn by the highest dignitaries, and at Ludwigsburg the courtierswho were fortunate enough to possess the decoration were careful never toappear without it. * * * * * On a glowing July morning a splendid cavalcade started from Ludwigsburg:the Silver Guard, the Cadets à Cheval, the Chevaliergarde, thedignitaries of the Wirtemberg court, and his Highness Eberhard Ludwigriding at the door of the golden coach, wherein throned theLandhofmeisterin and her sour-visaged sister Sittmann. In each town and village the procession was greeted with commanded cheersand with triumphant arches decorated by her Excellency's instructions. The peasants' faces were sombre while they cheered, sometimes asuppressed snarl of hatred mingled with the acclamations. As thetravellers proceeded on their journey, however, this hostility abated, giving place to peering curiosity, and at every halt the villagerscrowded round asking which of the ladies was the Landhofmeisterin, andcommenting on her appearance. At Kehl on the Rhine there was an official reception by the burgomasterand chief citizens. From Kehl to Strassburg, a distance of several miles, peasants and townsfolk bordered the road, watching the entry of themagnificent Duke of Wirtemberg. The town of Strassburg, in those daysonly French by a recent treaty, received the German prince withvociferous delight. The Regent d'Orléans, wishful to show courtesy to thenew Duke of Montbéliard, had commanded the garrison to render militaryhonours to the travelling prince, and Serenissimus was greeted inStrassburg by some of the finest of France's troops, and by thunderingcannon salutes. Then there were white-robed maidens strewing flowersbefore his horse's hoofs, and from the town-gate to the stately oldCathedral Square the concourse of men and women was so vast as to makethe progress slow and difficult; bands played and flags flew, and theGrävenitz was delighted. Eberhard Ludwig was feasted and honoured, andever beside him was the tall figure of the Landhofmeisterin. In theevening the Duke received the chief burghers at a state banquet, and theGrävenitz sat to his Highness's right. In Schlettstadt and Belfort, where he entered the Mömpelgard territory, the reception was enthusiastic; and, contrary to all expectations, thecitizens of Mömpelgard itself received their new ruler with expressionsof ecstatic loyalty, and even the Landhofmeisterin was loudly cheered. Here again the cannon roared a welcome, children and maidens strewedroses, choirs of youths chanted pæans of homage and rejoicing, and theMömpelgard regiments, which but a few months before had been employed bythe bastards to oppose the rightful heir, now greeted their Duke withrespect. Banners waved from every house, arches of fresh flowers adornedthe streets, the windows were spread with silken hangings, and the churchbells rang peal upon peal. It was a scene of rejoicing, of enthusiasm, ofpomp and magnificence, and it was the culminating point of the triumph ofWilhelmine von Grävenitz, but her heart was heavy with foreboding. Serenissimus also, though he played his part in the fine pageant withseeming pleasure, was filled with profound sadness. The Erbprincessin hadbeen brought to bed of a daughter only since the loss of her first child. The Erbprinz was more ailing than ever; true, he fought gallantly againsthis weakness, seeking to fortify himself and please his father by outdoorexercises; but, though he rode magnificently, with skill and intrepidity, he had fallen fainting from his horse several times of late. The doctorsshook their heads, and the cognizance forced itself upon Eberhard Ludwigthat he himself would be the last Duke of the direct line. After spending three weeks of feasting at Mömpelgard, his Highness setout for Stuttgart. The Mömpelgarders bade him adieu with many expressionsof loyal devotion. They found their new Duke and his handsome, decorousmistress, who played so finely the rôle of legal Duchess, an agreeablechange after Leopold Eberhard's 'Persian Court' and its absurdities, andthey would fain have induced Serenissimus to tarry in Mömpelgard; but theKing of Prussia had intimated his intention of visiting Ludwigsburg inSeptember, and Eberhard Ludwig hurried back to receive his royal guest. But on arriving in Ludwigsburg his Highness fell ill, and FriedrichWilhelm's visit was postponed till the following spring. The winter passed with little incident at Ludwigsburg. His Highnessrecovered rapidly from his actual illness, yet he did not regain hisaccustomed health and spirits, and thus the court festivities were bothfewer and less brilliant than heretofore. The Landhofmeisterin'sforebodings seemed to be infectious; a cloud hung over Ludwigsburg, andthe people murmured ominously: 'His Highness wearies of her, and she hasill-wished him; he will die, and she will disappear with all the jewelsand gold. ' Doubtless, the Landhofmeisterin's actions lent colour to these wildreports. She had studied various theories of medicine--quaint, old, forgotten herb lore, absurd mediæval magic. At first it had diverted her, then she grew credulous, and in the despair of knowing Eberhard Ludwig'slove to be waning and his health broken, she resorted to the pitifulpuerilities of love potions, life essences, and elixirs. Of course, forthe brewing of these concoctions she required some extraordinaryingredients, and it was in the procuring of these that the gossipconcerning her witch practices was revived and flourished. Thisprescription required the blood of a still-born male child; one oldblack-letter book recommended the heart of a yellow hen; another orderedthe life-warm entrails of a black fighting-cock; a fourth prescriptioncommanded the admixture of hairs from a dead man's beard! Theseingredients mixed with herbs plucked in churchyards at midnight, orspices brought directly from the East, and with seven times distilledwater, and suchlike, made a life elixir, or an infallible love potion, oragain a cure for this or that disease. Among the many absurdities ofignorance some of the accumulated wisdom of experience may have creptinto the old recipes: a real cure for a fever, or the application of agold ring to an inflamed eyelid. Superstition said that the ring was themarvel-worker; possibly it was some quality in the gold, someeven-as-yet-undiscovered power of certain metals upon the human body, andwhich experience may have taught the old village woman and the wanderingquack. But for the most part the Grävenitz's potions were harmlessabsurdities, yet she believed, and so did others, in their efficacy. During the winter the Erbprinz's fainting fits were more frequent thanever, and the Erbprincessin sank into a deep and brooding melancholy, which was varied by attacks of painful excitement and sudden bursts ofcauseless anger. It was whispered at Ludwigsburg that she was surelygoing mad. It was as though some fearful blight had fallen upon Eberhard Ludwig andhis family, and the Pietists preached that the avenging hand of God washovering over the sinner's court. The Secret Service reported thesesermons to the Landhofmeisterin, and the preachers were fined orimprisoned, but the stream of denunciation continued nevertheless. The Grävenitz was very lonely now. His Highness had changed to her, shecould no longer blind herself to the fact. Madame de Ruth was dead;Zollern, old and sad, was rarely at Ludwigsburg. Friedrich Grävenitz wascovertly hostile to her. In the autumn a serious quarrel had taken place;the brother demanding as free gift the property of Welzheim, which theLandhofmeisterin had lent him. This Wilhelmine refused; she did notrelish her brother's way of asking, and she bitterly resented thepompous, self-righteous, disapproving manner which he had adopted towardsher of late. After all, he owed her everything, she told herself. Hersister, Sittmann, was a useless parasite. The Landhofmeisterin accountedher as one who would desert her immediately did misfortune come. TheSittmann sons, young men who owed their high position entirely to theiraunt's power, not to their own merit or capability, were colourless, insipid youths. Sittmann himself, Schütz and the rest, she knew to befair-weather friends; evidently they descried the clouds gathering overtheir patroness's head, and they were quietly drawing back from her. OnlyMaria, the maid, remained faithful and admiring, and tended her adoredmistress with unfailing patience and devotion. In the early spring thepreparations began for the King of Prussia's visit, but Serenissimushimself took the lead in settling the arrangements, and theLandhofmeisterin was constantly met with the answer: 'His Highness hasordered that otherwise, your Excellency, ' or, 'that point has beensettled by the Duke. ' For twenty years she had directed and ruled, andnow all things seemed to crumble at her touch. King Friedrich Wilhelm I. Arrived in Wirtemberg towards the middle ofApril. He was met at the frontier by Eberhard Ludwig and the whole SilverGuard. The cavalcade was very brilliant, the horses magnificent, and thebluff Prussian King greeted the Duke with rough cordiality. They had beencompanions-in-arms during the Spanish Succession campaigns, and as theyrode together through the beautiful spring land of Wirtemberg theyrecalled old memories, fighting over again the battles of Blenheim, or ofMalplaquet, and talking of military matters. It was like a breath of thecamp life of long ago, of those young, gay, adventurous days when theFuture promised so much! An official reception had been prepared for Friedrich Wilhelm atLudwigsburg, and leaving the King at Heilbronn, Eberhard Ludwig hastenedhome. On the morrow, at the head of his troops, he would receivePrussia's martial ruler at a grand parade, after which the Corporal Kingwas to be feasted at the palace. Eberhard Ludwig reached Ludwigsburg late in the evening, and retiredimmediately, commanding a light supper to be served in his apartments. Hewas told that the Landhofmeisterin and the court awaited him, and thatsupper was already served, as usual, in her Excellency's dining-room. ButSerenissimus sent word that he desired to be undisturbed, and prayed herExcellency to excuse him. The supper at the Landhofmeisterin's table was partaken of in aconstrained atmosphere. Her Excellency spoke with Baron Schütz ofpolitical affairs, but though her lips smiled, there was that in her eyeswhich banished easy talk in her presence. The Erbprinz was pale andsilent; he had ridden much during the afternoon, and had swooned away inthe palace courtyard when he dismounted. The Erbprincessin sat crumblingher bread with her long, delicate fingers, a heavy cloud of aimlessmelancholy on her face. She had been feverishly excited during the day atthe prospect of meeting her cousin King Friedrich Wilhelm, but, as usual, her passing brighter mood left her the more depressed. At the repast'sconclusion the Landhofmeisterin rose and repaired, according to hercustom, to the card-room. She played her hand at l'hombre, winning eachgame. 'Those who are fortunate at cards are unfortunate in all else, they say, 'she remarked, as she noted her winnings in her neat scholarlyhandwriting. The courtiers murmured some banal phrases, and Schützwatched the Landhofmeisterin narrowly. Was it time for this Master-Rat toconduct his brood away from the threatened vessel? he wondered. Earlier than usual her Excellency gave the signal to retire. 'We startto-morrow at nine of the clock for his Majesty's reception. Your Highnesswill occupy my coach. I trust it will not rain, ' she said indifferentlyas she bade the Erbprincessin good-night. Now, it had been clearlyunderstood that no ladies were to attend the reception. In fact, theErbprincessin had consented to greet her cousin in private, only in orderto prevent the Landhofmeisterin from meeting the mistress-hating monarch. There ensued an awkward pause after her Excellency's speech. 'I do not purpose to be present at the official reception, Madame, ' saidthe Erbprincessin, 'and I had understood that your Excellency also wouldremain away. ' 'Your Highness has been misinformed, ' returned the Landhofmeisterinicily. 'We start, as I have had the honour to tell you, at nine of theclock to-morrow morning. I wish you would accompany me in my coach, Prince Friedrich, it would be a happiness to me to have your protection. May I count on you?' She turned to him with her wonderful smile. Friedrich Ludwig had a place in her affection, and though he nevervisited her at Favorite or Freudenthal, which wounded her deeply, shebore him no malice. 'In truth, Madame, I shall be proud to escort you in your coachto-morrow. At nine of the clock?' And he bade her good rest. He wasgrateful to her for thus making it seem a courtesy to her that he shouldconsent to drive instead of riding to the review, for the doctor had toldhim that evening that he could not ride, and he felt so weak and giddyafter his swoon that he knew he dared not mount a horse. TheErbprincessin shot a veiled look of hatred at the Landhofmeisterin. Howwell the evil woman knew how to cajole men to her will! The Landhofmeisterin repaired to her pavilion, and Maria assisted her tobed. Such a ceremony it was, this retiring to rest of theLandhofmeisterin! Such a profusion of delicious essences; all theperfumes of Araby were used, and she donned the fairest raiment of finelinen. According to custom, Maria left her fastidious mistress ready forsleep and reading a heavy tome of old-world magic by the light of twotall waxen tapers. Hardly had the maid's footsteps ceased to echo on the stone steps of thepavilion, when the Grävenitz flung aside the book and, rising from herchair, listened attentively. Only the monotonous tramp of the sentries inthe courtyard, and, more faintly, the same sound from the guards on thenorth terrace. Still her Excellency listened. Alas! for how many nightsof late had she hearkened in vain for the click of the little key in thedoor from the statue gallery? Eberhard Ludwig never came to her, and asshe stood listening her heart bled in anguish for the love that was nomore. Could such love really die? she asked herself. If it could, thenthe vows Eberhard Ludwig had spoken were mockery. Had she built her lifeon so insecure a foundation? The whole fabric of her being was shattered. Her anguish was almost physical pain, and she knew why people said 'myheart bleeds, ' for, of a truth, it seemed to her as though the strengthebbed away from her heart, leaving an aching, yearning void. Courage! shewould try again. She lifted the waxen taper and held it between her faceand the mirror. Yes, there were lines beneath the eyes; her cheeks wereless full and her chin heavier than of yore, but her lips were soft andred, her eyes as blue, as vivid as they had ever been. She knew her hairwas streaked with white beneath the powder, but it was still luxuriant. She was beautiful, desirable--but would he desire her? She replaced thetaper, glided into the statue gallery, and opened the door leading tohis Highness's room. She listened; Eberhard Ludwig was asleep; she couldhear the long, even breaths. Noiselessly she pushed aside the arras andentered. The moon shone into the room, and again she could have vowedthat a white-shrouded woman's figure stood in the wan light, but, asbefore, the faint vision vanished when she looked more searchingly. 'Eberhard, beloved, ' she called gently, 'are you ill?' The old witcherywas in her voice, and the sleeping man answered to it. 'I come, sweet love; I come, Philomèle!' Serenissimus appeared on thethreshold of the writing-room. He had flung himself down to sleep withoutundressing, and was still in his riding-clothes. He looked ghastly in thepale moonlight, and she hurried to him with outstretched arms. 'You are ill and you do not come to me? Beloved, have I not tended youthat you should thus flaunt me?' She drew him to her. 'What have I done, my heart, how have I sinned, that you have taken your love from me? See, I come to you to pray you to forgive me!' The old trick of speech, hercatchword, 'See, ' the low voice--the soft, strong arms. He had doubted her, and why? She had given him all; it was not her faultif he wearied of her tyranny. No; he alone was to blame, his inconstancy, his weakness. He poured forth a torrent of self-reproach, and words oflove, and she responded passionately. Once more they were lovers, thrilling to each other's touch. And the wan moon looked on at theirtransports, and perchance the pale wraith of the Countess of Orlamünde, the White Lady, watched the lovers and smiled, knowing that love's death, satiety, had them in his chill grip for all their passionate vows. 'I start at nine to-morrow morning for the reception, beloved. TheErbprincessin and Friedrich accompany me in my coach, ' theLandhofmeisterin said as she prepared to return to her apartments. HisHighness started. 'I pray you, do not go, Wilhelmine. The King is a bear, and if you meethim he will fail in courtesy to you, ' he said. 'It is my right to go, and I start at nine, ' she repeated. 'You shall not go; it is my right to forbid you, --you shall not go!' hecried. Then ensued a quarrel, bitter, terrible, between two beings who soshort a while before had loved so madly. The quarrel ended by the mangiving in, as usual, but the wrangle pierced one more nail in his love'scoffin for all that. * * * * * True to her word, the next morning at nine of the clock theLandhofmeisterin entered her coach accompanied by a very angry-facedErbprincessin, and the Erbprinz. They drove past Hohenasperg to the plainwhere the review was to be held, and the Landhofmeisterin's coach took upa commanding position near to Eberhard Ludwig and the officers of hisstaff. The Prussian King appeared riding with a numerous retinue. The field artillery spluttered volleys, and the cannon of Hohenaspergthundered a royal salute; the Silver Guard and the Chevaliergardedeployed and went through the series of antics customary at that periodof military history. It was a small quantity of men with which to aspireto give a military display to the Soldier King, but under EberhardLudwig's zealous care the men were perfectly drilled, wonderfullyaccoutred, and the cavalry horses were unequalled in Germany. The lightfield-guns were of the latest invention, the artillery and fort gunnerywere carefully distinguished according to the new military rule: in fact, it was all rigidly correct and perfect to the most approved and newestmethods of that date; and Friedrich Wilhelm who, if he knew little else, was a past master of the martial art, was delighted at the display. Buthis face changed when he rode up to the coach to greet his cousin, andbecame aware of the Landhofmeisterin's presence. 'Why are you here?' he grumbled to the Erbprincessin. 'Women are best athome, looking after the children or cooking the dinner. ' 'May I present her Excellency the Landhofmeisterin to your Majesty?' saidEberhard Ludwig; but the King turned a deaf ear. 'Go home, cousin, go home!' he bawled at the Erbprincessin; and puttingspurs to his horse galloped away to inspect some new pattern of field-gunwhich his sharp eyes had espied with the artillery. Eberhard Ludwig looked at the Landhofmeisterin in genuine distress. Hehad warned her of the Prussian King's rough manners, but this was morethan he had expected. Her Excellency's face was inscrutable. 'I should advise your Highness to follow that most kingly personage. Keephim in view, Serenissimus, or he may steal a tall man or so for hisgrenadiers from among your favourite guards. It is one of his gracefulhabits, I am told, ' she said coldly. The Erbprinz had flushed deeply when the martial king ignored theLandhofmeisterin. The Erbprincessin's face, on the contrary, hadlightened considerably. It was delightful to see the Grävenitz put downfor once! They drove home through the meadows, past the blossomingorchards, and never had the Landhofmeisterin been more charming; even theErbprincessin could not forbear a smile at her witty sayings, and theErbprinz laughed gaily. The Prussian King rode past the coach, glaring atits occupants with his protuberant eyes, and the Landhofmeisterinadroitly launched a witticism just as his Majesty was passing, in orderthat he should suffer the mortification of hearing and seeing theirmerriment half an hour after his unmannerly slight. Her ruse succeededadmirably, and she had the pleasure of observing the King'sbrick-coloured face flush to purple with anger. The Duke and his guest remained together all the morning, His Highnessshowing the King each detail of the palace. In the orangery they cameacross two remarkably tall garden boys, and Friedrich Wilhelm immediatelyoffered Eberhard Ludwig three hundred thalers apiece for them. Now, theyhappened to be her Excellency's own gardeners, and to be proficient inthe art of cultivating roses, so Serenissimus prayed the King to let himfind other giants for him; these, he said, were not his to offer. 'Whose then? Whose then? What the devil! Why, the houndsdirts must belongto you! Whose can they be? If they are my little cousin's I will soonmake her see I will have them, ' the Prussian monarch shouted. 'They belong to her Excellency the Landhofmeisterin, sire. ' 'What, that woman? Ha! you took her to Mömpelgard, I hear! Ridiculousthings, women--want the lash, the whip. Do you hear, old comrade?--everywoman wants the lash. Look at my daughter now--absurd hussy! will notmarry. I ought to lash her, but she hides behind her mother's petticoats. Ridiculous things, women. ' Serenissimus endeavoured to lead the shouting monarch from the orangery, but he was not to be outdone. 'Come to Berlin, boy; fine uniforms, good beer, and tobacco. Come, youwill love me like your father!' he yelled at the tallest gardener, bestowing a heavy blow on the youth's shoulders with the stout cudgelwhich he always carried. The end of it was that Eberhard Ludwig made hima present of the Landhofmeisterin's gardeners, and the King in high goodhumour retired to take an hour's nap before starting to enjoy somewild-boar sticking in the forest. All that day the Landhofmeisterin did not see Serenissimus, only in theafternoon she received a billet from him in which he forbade her toattend the supper in the state banqueting-hall. 'The Erbprincessin willbe the only lady; she, being the King's cousin, must attend, but Icommand you to remain away. You will understand my reasons when youconsider the events of this morning. --E. L. ' The letter was short, formal, cold in tone, and the Landhofmeisterin wasdeeply wounded. She had known that Friedrich Wilhelm would be unfriendlyto her; his rough virtue, and hatred of illicit relationships, werefamous throughout Germany, and she was aware that he would view withdispleasure the magnificence and the French manners of Ludwigsburg. Hadhe not stamped, beaten, and roared out of existence every trace of theelegance and pomp of the Berlin court as it had been under his father, Friedrich I. ?--that monarch who, by the way, had granted the Grävenitzthat Letter of Royal Protection twenty years ago. Still, though Friedrich Wilhelm had refused to ratify or acknowledge thisdocument when begged to do so by the Duke of Zollern, theLandhofmeisterin had counted him as more or less bound by it, and theidea that he could utterly ignore her had never entered her head. Moreover, she thought she would not need the protection of Prussia. Shehad prepared a vast fortune out of Wirtemberg, and if death claimedEberhard Ludwig before her own demise, she intended to retire toSchaffhausen and finish her days in magnificent seclusion. Yet it wasinfinitely galling to be hidden away in this manner. She raged at thethought of the courtiers' sneers. Not attend the supper? She, the rulerof Ludwigsburg and Wirtemberg, to be hidden like a common mistress! Andthen how coldly Eberhard Ludwig wrote to her. 'Alas! all things pass, 'she said, and wept bitterly. The day wore on. She tried to read, tooccupy herself, but she could not fix her mind on anything; her thoughtsreverted to her humiliation. At last she heard the noise of thesportsmen's return, and Friedrich Wilhelm's loud voice shouting andlaughing. Would Eberhard Ludwig come to her now? But no; she waited, andno one disturbed her solitude. At length Maria brought her a tray covered with dishes of deliciousviands. 'If her Excellency refuses to be served properly in the dining-room, asusual, she must at least have a mouthful to eat, ' the honest souldeclared, and she hovered round the Grävenitz, imploring her to tastethis or that, to drink a little wine; but the Landhofmeisterin pushedaway her plate, saying that the food choked her, and Maria, grumbling, carried away the untasted supper. Once more, Wilhelmine fell to listening. She heard the noise of a crowdgathering in the courtyard. She rang her handbell, and when Mariaappeared she questioned her on the reason of a crowd being admitted tothe palace precincts. His Highness had commanded the gates to be thrownopen, she was told; it was the Prussian King's custom to permit thepopulace to see him eat. 'Disgusting!' quoth the Landhofmeisterin haughtily. 'I can smell thevarlets from here. Sprinkle rose-water about the room, Maria. ' The hours dragged on monotonously. The noise of the crowd in thecourtyard was drowned by the loud strains of the massed bands of theregiments in Ludwigsburg, who had been commanded to play before thewindows of the banqueting-hall. The Landhofmeisterin's musicians withtheir harps, violins, and flutes were banished during the Prussian King'svisit, for he hated all music save that of trumpet and drum. At lengththe Landhofmeisterin could bear her solitude and suspense no longer. Sheslipped into the statue gallery, and through a secret door to the Duke'sprivate stairs. The topmost flight led to a small gallery which lookedinto the banqueting-hall. She had often watched from here the huntingdinners which his Highness gave, and from which ladies were naturallyexcluded. It was many years since one of these entertainments had takenplace, and the staircase had fallen into disrepair; it was dirty anddusty, and creaked under her Excellency's tread. 'Disgraceful neglect!the housekeeper-in-charge shall be fined, ' murmured the tyrant as shemounted. The door leading to the gallery was ajar. The Landhofmeisterin'sface darkened with anger. Had some serving-maids dared to creep up towatch the doings in the banqueting-hall? But there was no one in thegallery, and she bent down, peering through the stucco balustrade intothe hall below. Her attention was arrested by a cackling snigger behindher--a horrid, mocking, wheezy titter in the shadow of the overhangingornamentation of the banqueting-hall roof, which came low down over thelittle gallery. She turned quickly and saw the grotesque, ape-like figureof one of the court dwarfs. Her Excellency had introduced these hideousabortions into Ludwigsburg, having read that they were a feature of theSpanish court in its grandest days. Eberhard Ludwig, disgusted at thesight of the puny monstrosities, had refused to permit them to go aboutthe palace, and they had been relegated, poor displeasing toys, to theservants' regions. Here they were kicked and cuffed and made cruel sportof. During the foregoing winter one dwarf had died, and the other roamedaround like some miserable outcast cur, lurking in dark corners, hidingfrom all living things, which he accounted rightly as his tormentors. Hecowered before the Landhofmeisterin, laughing his horrible, cacklingsnigger, which was half mockery, half terror. He expected theLandhofmeisterin to push him brutally aside, but her sorrow had made hersuddenly gentle; she felt dimly that this wretched creature was anoutcast, and so was she. 'Poor dwarf, ' she said gently, 'I had thoughtyou were dead! So you still wander in this vale of tears?' She spokealmost mockingly, and yet there was that in her tone which gave hope tothe wretched being. 'O Madame, I am so miserable! They beat me, cuff me, the serving-maidspinch me, scratch me with their bodkins! They say you are hard and coldand cruel, but oh, have mercy on me!' '_I_ hard and cold and cruel?' she replied incredulously. 'Do they saythat?' She had no idea that success and prosperity had thus changed her;the world-hardened never know it themselves. 'Ah, yes, they say that; but, I pray you, have mercy on me. ' The poor, distorted figure threw itself down, grovelling at the Landhofmeisterin'sfeet. 'Go to my apartments in the pavilion and await me, I will attend to youin an hour's time. Stay, here is my ring; show that to the sentry and hewill admit you, ' she said. She would send him back to his Swiss mountainvalley with gold enough to last him for his lifetime. Perhaps, if she didgood to this outcast, God would relent, would give her back EberhardLudwig's love? The dwarf went, and the Landhofmeisterin turned herattention to the scene in the banqueting-hall. The banquet was finished, but the guests still sat round the table withwine-reddened faces. The Prussian King loved to drink deep; he said heabhorred the milksop who could not follow him to the dregs of a tankard, and that was indeed no paltry measure. The Erbprincessin sat to theKing's right, his Highness himself was on his Majesty's left. TheErbprinz, white and weary, sat opposite. The holders of important courtcharges were grouped around according to their respective ranks. Friedrich Grävenitz, as Count of the Empire and Prime Minister ofWirtemberg, sat to the left of Serenissimus; Prelate Osiander came next, then Schütz and Sittmann, and the brothers Pfau. Reischach, the Master ofthe Hunt; Baron Roeder, Master of the Horse; the Oberhofmarshall, theother Geheimräthe; the generals and officers of his Highness's staff;the colonels of the Silver Guard, of the Chevaliergarde; the youngcaptain of the Cadets à Cheval. Among the Wirtemberg courtiers wereseated various members of the Prussian suite: Grumbkow, the powerfulfavourite; General Dönhoff; and the Austrian Ambassador at Berlin, CountSeckendorff, who always followed Friedrich Wilhelm I. , a spy andintriguer in friendship's guise. It was a brilliant assemblage, but it was well to be seen that deepdrinking had been indulged in. Besides the Erbprincessin, only Osianderand the Erbprinz had calm and unflushed faces. The Landhofmeisterin'seyes wandered from Friedrich Wilhelm to Eberhard Ludwig; his face wasflushed, and he swayed a little in his chair. His Highness was usually amoderate drinker, and, though during his various campaigns he had drunkand revelled like the rest, the Landhofmeisterin had never seen him withthat vacant, sottish look, and her soul sickened at the sight. TheErbprincessin rose and took her leave, Friedrich Wilhelm shouting rough, good-natured pleasantries to her. Then his Majesty's friend, Grumbkow, craving the Duke's permission, called the lackey in charge, who producedthe King's huge pipe, and in a few minutes the Landhofmeisterin saw thestately banqueting-hall take the aspect and smell of a tabagie. Denseclouds of smoke rose up, and she saw that the Prussian King was againserved with an enormous jug of beer. The banqueting-hall was transformed, no trace of elegance or courtly grace seemed to remain; it had become apothouse, of which Eberhard Ludwig was the jovial host. TheLandhofmeisterin quivered with disgust, his Highness appeared sunken to adifferent level. She watched and listened; the music in the courtyard hadceased, and she could hear what they said in the banqueting-hall. 'What! Sapperment! you compose fiddling tunes, young man?' FriedrichWilhelm was roaring at the shrinking Erbprinz. 'Just like my fool of ason. He blows squeaks on a tube which he calls my beloved flute' (theKing gave a rough imitation of his son's refined speech). 'No good atall, this younger generation--eh! what, old comrade? A good fight, a goodglass of beer, a good pipe, a good wife--that's what a man needs; noFrench jiggery and music nonsense. Fool's play--eh, what? what?' He spokein German; such German as it was, too, vitiated by French words which hecould not avoid, as he knew no others, adorned with unquotable oaths, short-clipped, rough phrases--the language of the man-at-arms in theguard-room. Yet he possessed a certain breezy charm, and Eberhard Ludwigseemed to respond to it. In truth, the King, when he was not in one ofhis furious rages, was a boon companion, and appealed to the brutishswagger which lies dormant in every man's being. At length the company rose from table and gathered in groups of three orfour, while the King and his host retired into the embrasure of one ofthe windows. The Landhofmeisterin saw that Friedrich Wilhelm spokeearnestly to Serenissimus; she noted the embarrassment on the Duke'sface, he seemed like a chidden schoolboy, and with dismay theLandhofmeisterin observed that he was evidently impressed by the King'swords. Could this rude monarch persuade so polished and refined a beingas Eberhard Ludwig? Did he endeavour to separate her lover from her? Apresentiment came to her; she knew instinctively that this was what theKing essayed. After nearly an hour, the two men came forth from thewindow's embrasure, and she saw how the King held out his hand toEberhard Ludwig, and how his Highness gripped and held it, sayingsomething in a low, earnest tone. She strained her ears, yet she could not catch the words; but she sawFriedrich Wilhelm's satisfied face. He clapped his Highness between theshoulders with a heavy hand. Evidently Serenissimus met with hisMajesty's entire approval. The company broke up for the night, and theLandhofmeisterin rose from her cramped, kneeling position and took herway back to her apartments. A cruel foreknowledge of disasterovershadowed her; something unusual, elusively sinister, haunted her. As she passed his Highness's door she hesitated. Should she go in bravelyand speak her fear to him? Pride forbade, and a certain sense ofhopelessness. She drew herself up proudly. No, he loved her; how couldhe change after twenty years? He could not escape her, for she was hislife; all his memories were hers, his past, his present; therefore sheargued, as a woman always argues, his future too must be hers. She passed into her apartments and, opening her window, leaned far out. How silent it was in the garden! The moonlight played gently over theterraces, only the splash of the fountains broke the stillness. The airwas delicious, scented with freshness, and after the noisome fumes ofwine, beer, victuals, and tobacco in the banqueting-hall, she thought thenight air was laden with rose fragrance. So it had been on that far-offnight in the Stuttgart palace gardens after the theatricals. Time had notplayed havoc then with Nature. How weary she was! Suddenly a moan in theroom behind her attracted her attention. She started nervously, and, asusual, the thought of the White Lady worked in her mind. They said thepoor ghost moaned when death drew near to any of her descendants, and shewas Eberhard Ludwig's ancestress. The Landhofmeisterin dared not turn herhead for fear she should see a tall, white, shrouded figure withbloodstained hands. Again the moan. 'Who is there?' the Landhofmeisterin said tremulously. 'Pardon, Madame, you said I was to await you. ' It was only the dwarf, then. Her Excellency almost laughed in her relief. 'Ah! I had forgotten you. Well, tell me your story now. I am listening, 'she said. It would serve to pass the time till his Highness came, for hewould come, she told herself. The dwarf stood trembling before her, ridiculous, grotesque, infinitelypathetic. He poured forth the tale of his miserable life, of the taunts, the jeers, the kicks, the cuffs, the lack of food which he had oftensuffered in the midst of the lavish splendour of Ludwigsburg. Incidentally he let her see how the very servants of the palace spoke ofher, and how they mocked her authority when they dared. His was a pitiful life-history, and the Landhofmeisterin was moved tocompassion; her own heart was sore, and already the crust ofworld-hardness had begun to melt under the tears which were welling upready to be shed. She told the dwarf that he was free to return to that humble cottage inthe Swiss valley which he called home. There and then she wrote out apassport for him and an order for a seat in the Duke's diligence as faras the frontier; she gave him a purse of gold, and, more precious still, an official command to all to treat the deformed traveller withconsideration; also, as postscriptum, an intimation that if the dwarf didnot reach his home safe and unrobbed, she would cause the whole SecretService to track the offender, who would suffer the utmost penalty of thelaw. With this document the dwarf could have travelled from one end ofWirtemberg to the other in safety; nay, more, he was sure of even servileacceptance from high and low, for never was monarch so feared in hisdomains as the Güstrow adventuress in the Dukedom of Wirtemberg. 'God reward you for this great good, ' the dwarf said as he turned toleave her presence, and she answered sadly: 'It is too late; God's hand is heavy upon me. ' But she did not believeit. The hours passed, and still the Landhofmeisterin waited for EberhardLudwig. She watched the grey dawn slip into the sky, then the glow of theawaking sun came, and she knew that she waited in vain. CHAPTER XX SATIETY 'A Cloud of sorrow hanging as if Gloom Had passed out of men's minds into the air. ' SHELLEY. FRIEDRICH WILHELM and his Highness of Wirtemberg started early on themorning after the state banquet. A number of wild boars had been trackedin the Kernen forest and good sport was anticipated. The Landhofmeisterinfrom her couch heard the stir of the sportsmen's departure. In happierdays she had waved farewell to her lover from her window, now she turnedher face to the wall and moaned in anguish. But the day's routine shouldbe carried out as usual, that she vowed; no one should pity her, no onenotice that she feared her sun had set. She dressed according to her wontin a magnificent gown, sat patiently for an hour in her powdering closetwhile the obsequious Frenchman dressed her hair elaborately and powderedthe curls afresh. She reflected grimly on the blessings of powder to age-silvering locks;none would see that her black hair was streaked with white. Her step had never been prouder than when she walked through her emptyantehall which, but a few days earlier, had been filled with a bowingcrowd of courtiers. She was almost surprised to find Baron Schützawaiting her as usual in the 'Landhofmeisterin's business-room, ' thatsmall room on the ground floor of the west pavilion whence for twentyyears had issued the ruling orders of Wirtemberg. She worked as she haddone each morning for many years. Sitting at the large middle table shetransacted the business of the Dukedom. Beside her was a pile ofunwritten papers signed at the bottom of each page by Eberhard Ludwig. Itwas only needful to write any decree above his Highness's signature, toaffix his seal beneath, and to add her own official name 'W. VonGrävenitz-Würben, pro Landhofmeister Wirtembergs, ' to make the writing anunassailable, all-powerful, official document. Gradually things had cometo this pass. The Duke preferred hunting, shooting, riding, to affairs ofState, and in the course of years the Grävenitz had succeeded in graspingcomplete, autocratic power. There was no one to hinder her; her brotherwas Prime Minister in name, but he was forced to bring each importantmatter to her, for she represented his Highness. The Geheimräthe were one and all her creatures; the Duke refused tomeddle, and if he expressed a wish, it was so promptly and ostentatiouslycarried out that he never realised how entirely he had ceded the reins ofgovernment to his mistress. To the Landhofmeisterin's working-room camethe officers of the Secret Service, bringing their reports on the doingsof all Wirtembergers of high or low estate, each report of value beingcarefully noted and locked away in the wire-protected shelves whichfurnished the walls. The Landhofmeisterin laboured, according to habit, on the morning afterthe banquet, and if she detected a freer tone in the heretoforeobsequious Schütz's voice, a shade of insolence in his manner, she gaveno sign thereof. If anything, she was more haughty, more dictatorial thanever. 'I am retiring to La Favorite for a few days' rest, Baron Schütz, ' shesaid, when the affairs of the day were accomplished; 'you will bring meany business which it is necessary for me to consider. I shall have thesewith me'--she tapped the signed pages--'the seal I shall also have withme. As I am fatigued, I shall not work longer this morning. Au revoir, Baron. ' He was dismissed. 'Your Excellency would do well to leave me the signatures. I may haveneed of them, ' he said hurriedly, stretching out his hand towards thepile of signed warrant papers. 'Since when can Baron Schütz dispose of his Highness's signature? I havealready told you that if urgent business arises, in spite of my fatigue, I shall be prepared to attend to it at La Favorite. Au revoir, Baron. ' She spoke resolutely, yet in a perfectly unconcerned voice, and Schütz, fearing lest his observations had failed him, and the 'great one' wasafter all not nearing her downfall, bowed himself out with his accustomedobsequiousness. He would have changed his mind could he have seen thecloud of misery and anxiety which settled on her face directly she wasalone. She arranged various papers, extracting several from the neatlydocketed packets. These she regarded as instruments in her hands; thisdocument was a sword of Damocles which she could suspend over the head ofthat enemy; this other a pistol which, an she willed it, she could levelat the credit and honour of another; here a short report spelling ruin toa noble family's pride; there a note to convict an honoured courtier offraud or of traitorous intrigue. If she was indeed to fall, she would notalone be flung from her eminence; those who had hated her should also bedragged down with her. She smiled bitterly. After all, even though shewreaked vengeance as she fell, what would it avail her? This triumph ofher spite would be a satisfaction, but----She sighed, and would havereplaced the damning papers in their hiding-place. No! she would takethem with her. If the crushing misfortune came, at least she would havethe consolation of retaining some power over others. Sadly she mounted the stairs to her own apartments, and calling thewaiting-maid, she bade Maria gather together all the jewels and gold; afew of her best-loved books; some of her most gorgeous clothes. Grumbling, Maria packed them in a huge nail-studded chest. The Landhofmeisterin stood watching till the last chosen object wassafely packed away, then she bade Maria summon lackeys from La Favorite. They came quickly, and her Excellency ordered them to carry the chest toher little Château Joyeux. Her voice was perfectly steady as she gavethese orders, her face stern and calm. Her whole action was unhurried, deliberate; she might have been making arrangements for a gay huntingexpedition. There was no trace of anxiety in her manner. Maria hovered about, after the lackeys had departed with the chest. Didher Excellency wish for this or that? Should she accompany her Ladyship'sGrace to La Favorite? Calmly the Landhofmeisterin bade her precede her, she would follow in a few moments. She heard Maria locking the wardrobesin the chamber below, listened to her giving orders for the redding up ofthe apartments, exactly as she had heard the maid finish her preparationsfor departure a hundred times before starting for Urach or Freudenthal. 'Beloved, the coaches await us; shall we begin our journey?' TheLandhofmeisterin started. Yes; that was how Eberhard Ludwig had summonedher in the old, happy days. Her nerves had tricked her, it was only anecho of long ago. Could everything, indeed, be ended? Was she leavingLudwigsburg for ever? Ah, no, no! how absurd! Of course Serenissimuswould recall her directly this blustering King had gone back to his drillat Berlin! And yet---- She moved slowly round her rooms. Fifteen years since Frisoni hadconducted her to her pavilion! She recalled how she and Eberhard Ludwighad laughed at the little Italian's ruse, when he led them up and downcorridors and stairs in order to reach her apartments from his Highness'srooms. The memory of their mirth was torture to her. Once more she tookthe key from her bosom and, passing through the statue gallery, shegained the hiding-place behind the arras. She listened, but there was nosound; she pressed the secret spring of the tapestry door and entered thewriting-closet. Slowly she walked round the room; she had not come to robthe bureau this time, nor to upbraid her lover, nor to tempt him onceagain. No; she had come to bid farewell, to look her last upon thefamiliar scene. One of the Duke's gauntleted hunting-gloves lay on thefloor; she stooped and lifted it and put it to her lips. Then the fullsense of her loneliness came to her, and she sobbed aloud. She hurriedaway, and her last vision of that well-known room was blurred by hertears. One parting look round her own apartments, and she passed out on to theroofed terrace which led from the Corps de Logis to the West Pavilion. Here her own face met her on sculptured vaulting and ornamented wall. Herface, young, smiling, voluptuous, surrounded by the emblems of music heldby Cupids. Love, music, and herself. What a mockery it seemed to her, this open homage, this enduring monument of a dead passion! With steady tread she paced down the flight of stone steps to the secondterrace. Again a statue with her features met her eye. Frisoni haddesigned the pedestal. She remembered how she had laughed at the Italianfor drawing a figure of Time with huge wings and holding giantsickle-blades in his oversized hands. She had called it awkward andill-conceived, and the Italian had told her that Time was an awkwardgiant; that he crushed strength and glory sometimes, and left weaknessand shame to live. She had hardly noted the answer then, but it came backto her now. She looked at the sickle-blades and shuddered, knowing thatTime had mown her down at last. * * * * * All day the Landhofmeisterin busied herself with her books, with playingupon the spinet, and singing her favourite songs. She was a prey tofearful unrest. Night fell, the hunters had returned, and yet hisHighness sent no word to her he had called 'Life of my Life. ' Perchancehe was much occupied. The Prussian King was an exacting guest, she toldherself; framing excuses, reasons, all the pitiful resources of a woman'sheart, to explain away her beloved's coldness. The fact that thecourtiers held aloof from her caused her no pain, only bitter anger, yeteven for these she elaborated reasons of absence. How often had shewearied of these people's importunities, how often longed to be left inpeace, and yet now she would have given vast sums could she have seen herantechamber full again. She knew that Friedrich Wilhelm's visit wouldterminate on the morning following the wild-boar sticking in the Kernenforest. Would he go, this rough, virtue-loving despot? She remembered howhe had tarried four whole weeks at Dresden when he had paid a visit toAugustus the Strong some years before. And this in spite of hisdisapproval of the reigning favourite, the Countess Orzelska, and themany lesser stars of that licentious court. Good Heavens! would he stayfour weeks at Ludwigsburg? She smiled; even in her despair there wassomething humorous in her being which no sadness could dull, and shefound her own dismay at the honoured guest's possible procrastination atrifle comic. Eberhard Ludwig must come back to her--he must; she repeated it over andover again. The night brought her no rest; always the same hammeringthought, the torturing, nagging possibilities, the tangle ofrecollections. Sometimes she slipped away for a few moments into arestless sleep, but her dreams were as terrible as her waking thoughts. She was journeying in her coach to Stetten, the horses gallopedfast--ever faster!--Eberhard Ludwig was at her side, then, with a gestureof anger, he flung himself out of the carriage. She was alone, and thehorses were rushing onwards. A giant figure, of pitiless face, stood intheir way--a being with huge, gnarled hands which held enormoussickle-blades. The horses were mown down, now the blades were descendingover her. 'Great God! Mercy! he is cutting out my heart!' she awokescreaming. Then the strain of agonised thought began once more to whirl in her mind. Eberhard Ludwig must come back--he must. She fell asleep, and again theDream Demon took hold of her. Now she was in Duke Christopher's Grotto inStuttgart. The mob was nearing her, and her feet always slipped back onthe slimy steps--she would never gain the first gallery. A shadowy figurewith bleeding hands barred her way--the White Lady--the murderess. 'Backto the world to take your punishment!' the ghost whispered, and oh, horror! she pushed her back with those terrible, bleeding hands--_back_, down the slippery, slimy steps towards the crowd. Eberhard Ludwig led the mob, and the Prussian King was with him. 'Belovedof my life, heart of my soul!' the Duke said, and clasped her to him; buthis arms had become sickle-blades and they cut her to the heart, whileFriedrich Wilhelm laughed and waved a cudgel. It hit her on the brow, blow after blow. 'Wanton, wanton, witch and wanton!' the King bawled ateach stroke. She was dreaming; she knew it, she must awake; but the DreamDemon had not done with her. Now she was with Würben, now with Madame deRuth, now at Güstrow, now at Urach in the Golden Hall, but always theglistening sickle-blades followed her. Würben cut at her with them;Madame de Ruth, Monsieur Gabriel, every one had got these searingblades, and always Eberhard Ludwig stood watching, watching, and he didnot save her! In the grey dawn she awoke. It was all a dream, then. What was wrong, though? There was something--ah, yes! Eberhard Ludwig had ceased to loveher. Absurd! It was a phantasy of her weary brain! She was ill, feverish. --Eberhard was occupied with an exacting guest, that was all. Hewould come back to her--he must. At last she slept dreamlessly. Fatigueconquered agony, and she slept. * * * * * The Landhofmeisterin awoke to a smiling world. Such a glory of Spring, ofblossom and lilac. Maria threw open the windows, and the sound of thegardeners raking the paths of La Favorite gardens came in with the lilacscent. It was a good world, a very young world! Alas! the Grävenitz feltold and broken, ill from her night of agony. Maria told her that thePrussian King had left Ludwigsburg. Very early the cavalcade had started, and Serenissimus had ridden away with his guest. 'At what hour does his Highness return?' her Excellency queried. 'Not for several days; they say his Highness stays at Heilbronn to-night, and rides to the frontier with the King to-morrow, then goesboar-sticking in the Maulbronn forest, and will not return for four orfive days, ' the maid answered. The Landhofmeisterin sighed; in happierdays the Duke had bidden her adieu tenderly, if he were forced to leaveher for an hour, and now---- But it was absurd; of course he could notalways worship her like a young lover, but he would never desert her. 'Who is in the antehall this morning, Maria?' she asked. 'No one, your Excellency. ' So the parasites were dropping away from the threatened tree. * * * * * All that day and the next, no one disturbed the solitude of La Favorite, even Baron Schütz held aloof. On the third morning the Landhofmeisterinsent for him, but the answer came back that the Finance Minister had leftLudwigsburg for a few days' rest. The Landhofmeisterin reflected grimlythat Baron Schütz had never needed repose before. Eight days passed ere Eberhard Ludwig returned. The Landhofmeisterin'sfears had grown dim, habit had resumed sway. She worked at the affairs ofState each morning, and save that the business was transacted at LaFavorite instead of at the palace, and that Baron Schütz was replaced byan underling clerk, everything seemed to have lost that touch of theunusual which is part of the menace of coming disaster. True, thecourtiers were scarcely assiduous in the visiting of theLandhofmeisterin, but they dared not absent themselves entirely, for theywere uncertain as to her fate, and they feared both her revenge and herreputed witchcraft. So they repaired perfunctorily to La Favorite, andthough her Excellency refused to receive visitors, still she was informedof the courtiers' visits. Thus the old life seemed to be unaltered, andthe Landhofmeisterin forgot her anxiety in a measure, yet a deepmelancholy remained over her. At length Maria reported that Serenissimus had returned, and once more afeverish unrest seized the Grävenitz. Would he come to her? Would hesummon her? The night drew near, and no word came from the palace. TheLandhofmeisterin's fears reawoke. She paced restlessly up and down theFavorite terrace whence she could see his Highness's windows. The lightswere lit. She watched; gradually the palace grew dark. It was as thoughthe light of her youth was extinguished when his Highness's windows grewblack. She waited; perchance he would come yet? A terrible weariness fellon her. The night was very beautiful, moonlit and enchanted; the scent ofthe lilac smote heavy on the air--the lilac and the red thorn blossom----How beautiful it was, how still, how divinely young it all seemed; andshe was old, old and weary, and forsaken and unutterably sad! 'Your Excellency must rest; come, dear Madame!' It was Maria, thefaithful friend, the only one who had not profited by her mistress's vastpower; she alone who had never sought gain. 'Maria, I am too weary to sleep, and I dream so cruelly, ' the Grävenitzsaid sadly. 'Come and rest, and I will sit beside you all night, ' the good soulreplied; and indeed, it seemed as though her honesty had driven away theDream Demon, for the great Landhofmeisterin slept like a tired childwatched over by this faithful peasant woman. The next day the Grävenitz was utterly deserted. No word came from thepalace, no Secret Service officers came to report to her, no courtiersthronged the antehall. It was Sunday, and the bells of the palace chapelrang. Maria had heard that Serenissimus had intimated his intention ofattending church twice that Sunday. The Landhofmeisterin's thoughtsfollowed him wistfully. Would he sit in his accustomed chair in thegilded pew? Would his eyes wander to the sculptured figures in thechapel, the figures which bore her features? Would he remember how oftenshe had sung to that organ? Alas! Change is Death, and more cruel thanDeath. The day passed, and still came no sign from Serenissimus. Then theLandhofmeisterin sent Maria to the town to gather news, and the maidreturned and told her that it was rumoured his Highness would start onthe following morning to attend the grand military review at Berlin. Shehad met one of the palace grooms, and he had said that the horses were tobe in readiness soon after dawn. Good God! was Eberhard Ludwig takingthis way in order to rid himself of her? It was entirely contrary toetiquette to hurry on a visiting monarch's heels in this manner. Her pride was swallowed up in gnawing anxiety. She wrote to EberhardLudwig. 'Love has its rights, you cannot leave me without a word. What have Idone? how have I offended you? you, for whom I would give my life! I asknothing. If you have ceased to love me, then banish me, imprison me, allyou will, but come to me once--once only. O beloved! remember the past;come to me and tell me the truth. Tell me to go, and you need never seemy face again, ' she wrote. No letter came in answer; only a verbal message, delivered by a sullencourt lackey, that his Highness would visit her Excellency ere he rode toBerlin. Her Excellency was to expect him in the early morning, as hecommenced his journey betimes, owing to the long distance. Another night of fierce unrest. Early she rose and made an elaboratetoilet. She dressed in yellow, the colour he loved; her hair was freshlypowdered, her face carefully painted. The dew glistened on the close-cropped grass of the gardens, the lilacswere more radiant than ever, the birds in the chestnut-trees sang theirspring melody--the chant of nest-building, the mating song. Eberhard Ludwig rode up the avenue of La Favorite, and dismounted beforethe terrace steps. His attendant took his horse, and walked the beautifulanimal up and down in the shade of the chestnut-trees. The Landhofmeisterin received Serenissimus in her yellow-hungsitting-room. He was cold and distant, and she was formal and restrained. 'I hope your Highness is in good health?' and 'your Excellency appears tobe mighty well!' Then the ice broke, and she held out her arms to him. 'My beloved! my beloved! Ah! to see you again----' But he drew back. 'Madame, life is hard. We must part, you and I. ' 'Oh no, no, not that! Tell me what has changed you? I have been truealways, ' and she clung to him. 'I must alter everything--sinon je suis perdu!' Always that phrase ofhis, he had called himself so often 'perdu!' 'Alter everything? Yes, yes; all you will. See, I am ready to change, toobey in all things, dismiss any person who displeases you; make some oneelse Landhofmeisterin, only keep me, do not banish me; you are my life, only you--you----' 'I must leave you; you have brought a curse upon the land----' 'I have brought a curse to you? If you leave me there will be acurse--the eternal condemnation, brought by a broken heart. Eberhard, mybeloved! See--I implore you!' 'I must go--I must leave you--sinon je suis perdu--sinon je suisperdu, '--and so they wrangled, and exclaimed, and implored for an hour. 'Your last word then is: Go, woman who has loved me for twenty years!'she said bitterly at last. 'Yes? Well, then, hear me: I will notgo!--never, do you hear? We belong together, you and I. All this is somemadness of yours, which will pass. Come back to me to-morrow and tell meso, then all will be well. It is well, do you hear? You are maddened, distraught----' 'This is my last word: Retire to one of your castles. I leave you yourproperties and your title, but Ludwigsburg must see you no more. ' She laughed in defiance. 'I will not go till you drive me forth at thepoint of the bayonet. Your friend, the King of Prussia, can teach youbayonet drill, and you can practise it on my heart. ' Then he rode away from La Favorite, his horse's hoofs outraging thepeaceful dew. * * * * * Directly Serenissimus had ridden away, as if in defiance of impendingfate, the Landhofmeisterin sent to summon the officers of the SecretService. She would work, give commands, according to her wont. Theofficers tarried, and her Excellency waited in her yellow-hung salon. Would they dare, the creeping spies--dare to disobey her? she wondered. She passed out on to the terrace and glanced down the chestnut avenue. With a feeling of relief she recognised one of the Secret Serviceofficers. He was hurrying to La Favorite as fast as, in other days, theyand all the world had hastened to do her bidding. She re-entered her sitting-room and, seating herself at her bureau, beganto draft a ducal manifesto. The door opened, and, to her surprise, notthe Secret Service officer whom she had thought to recognise, but a veryinferior official, a mere spy, entered. He walked in without removing hishat, and came close up to the Grävenitz. 'What will you give me for my information?' he said roughly. 'What do you mean? You have come to report, I suppose; though why mychief officer, Jacoble, sends you, I do not know, ' she returnedhaughtily. He leaned his hand on the bureau beside her. 'I have information which may save your life, but you must pay me forit. ' She rang her handbell. 'My lackeys will show you how I pay the insolent, ' she said. 'Your lackeys! There will not be one left in your house in an hour'stime, ' he sneered. Her face had grown ashen grey; even through her paint the death-likecolour showed. 'What are you saying?' she cried hoarsely. 'Here, take my purse, all youwill--but tell me quickly--quick, man, tell me!' At the sight of the heavy golden purse the spy's face and manner changed. 'Serenissimus fell fainting from his horse in the village of Marbach. They cannot rouse him; the doctors say he will never awaken. They carryhim to Ludwigsburg to die. No one has remembered you yet, but when theydo----!' he flung out his arm in a crushing gesture. 'When they do, they will imprison me till orders come from the new Duke, you mean? Do you think I care? My place is beside Serenissimus, and I goto the palace immediately. Go, take the gulden and go. ' She swept from the room, and the spy saw her descending the steps fromthe terrace to the garden. Her calm dignity had disconcerted him, and, after all, he feared the Grävenitzin. He turned to the bureau; at least, he would look through her papers. Buteven in her distress the Landhofmeisterin had remembered to shut and lockher bureau; and though the spy tried to wrench it open, her Excellency'ssecrets were guarded by intricate springs, and the man's efforts wereunavailing. The Landhofmeisterin walked swiftly down the shady avenue, and into thepalace gardens. She had not passed that way since her departure fromLudwigsburg, ten days earlier. Her sharp eyes took in various neglecteddetails. 'If he dies, and I go, the whole place will fall to ruin, ' shemurmured. Great commotion reigned in the castle. She could see that even thesentries were discussing the Duke's health with a crowd of Ludwigsburgburghers. They started when they saw the Landhofmeisterin pass throughthe courtyard. Involuntarily they fell back into their correct attitudes, and left the crowd's questions unanswered. The Grävenitz hurried to theCorps de Logis, but the doors were closed, as had been those on the northterrace facing La Favorite. 'The doors are locked from inside, Excellency, ' said the soldier onguard. 'Count Grävenitz commanded it. ' 'So, is my brother within?' she asked. 'Yes, Madame; and Baron Schütz, Baron Roeder, and the court physicians. ' They had locked her out, then. Ah! but she had her key of the westpavilion, and the key of the doors leading to his Highness'swriting-room. She went to her former dwelling-place; there stood nosentry now before her Excellency's pavilion. The windows were closed andshuttered, and when she entered a chill air met her. She shivered; thegay, bright pavilion was like a tomb, the grave of happy hours, shethought. Her upstair rooms were dark and desolate. Once more she realisedthat she, her power, her glory, were dead things, and she bowed beforethe inexorable law, Change. She passed through the statue gallery and into the arras passage. Adeathlike silence reigned in his Highness's apartments. O God! would shefind a still, white figure--a rigid, sheet-covered shape? She pushed openthe tapestry door; the writing-closet was empty, but beyond, in thesleeping-room, she heard whispering voices. The Duke lay on his bed fully dressed in his riding-clothes. His left armwas held by the second physician, while the chief surgeon bent over it, lancet in hand. A third doctor kneeled, holding a bowl under hisHighness's arm, from which large drops of blood welled slowly, and fellwith a sickening soft thud into the china bowl. Friedrich Grävenitz, Schütz, and Roeder stood near the window, talkingtogether in low tones. They started forward when the Landhofmeisterinappeared on the threshold, and Grävenitz approached her with outstretchedhand. 'Wilhelmine, you must not come here now, ' he said in an ungentle voice. 'It is my place! let me pass, ' she returned; and, waving her brotheraway, she moved swiftly round to the other side of the bed. She kneltdown close to the Duke, and taking his right hand she raised it gentlyto her lips. The sufferer moved slightly for the first time since he hadfallen fainting from his horse. 'Stem the blood, he is returning to consciousness, ' whispered the chiefsurgeon; and the first physician twisted a linen band above the openvein, while the second doctor stanched the blood with a cloth, and thenbound up the wound. 'His Highness must have entire quiet, Madame, ' the court doctor said, bowing respectfully to the Landhofmeisterin. 'It were well if all retiredand left him to my care alone, if you will permit me. ' 'As Prime Minister, I consider it my duty to remain----' began FriedrichGrävenitz in a louder tone. 'As chief physician, I consider it my duty to order you to retire!Madame, will you assist me in this matter?' he said quietly to theGrävenitz. 'I will assist you, Herr Medicinalrath, by retiring myself. I am sure thegentlemen will do likewise. Count Grävenitz, I hold the first courtcharge, and I command you to depart. ' It was true; at Ludwigsburg theLandhofmeisterin was entitled to command even the ministers, by reason ofher high official capacity. She rose from her knees and looked yearninglyat the lover of her youth. 'Will Serenissimus recover?' she whispered. 'Without a doubt now, your Excellency, ' returned the physician. She was passing out when her eye caught sight of the red-stained clothwith which they had stanched the blood from Eberhard Ludwig's arm. Tenderly she lifted it; it seemed to her that it was heavy with herbeloved's lifeblood--a precious relic. She carried it away through thequiet, sunlit gardens. It was partly a despairing woman's whim, anabsurdity, and partly she was prompted by her magic practices to take thecloth. There was an infallible life elixir and a powerful love potion, one of whose ingredients was the blood of the loved one. She would brewthis mixture, Eberhard Ludwig should drink it, then the old happinesswould return. He would be strong and well again, and with health wouldcome love and happiness. The Grävenitz's witch practices had long been an eyesore to his Highness. In the first place, he feared magic exceedingly, and knowing theLandhofmeisterin's extraordinary magnetic power, he believed entirely inher witchcraft. Friedrich Wilhelm had thoroughly alarmed his Highness;doubtless a curse rested on him for his sin. Surely, thus to harbour anavowed witch would inevitably draw down the wrath of God, and 'we princesmust make personal sacrifices for State reasons. ' Then too EberhardLudwig, having ceased to love the Grävenitz, was in a propitious mood forreturning to duty. When the Duke regained consciousness he found himself with the kindlycourt physician, who told him of the Landhofmeisterin's visit, and of howit had been her touch on his hand which had first roused him from hisswoon. The good man prated amiably to his Highness, thinking to pleasehim, but the Duke's face grew dark. The physician had seen herExcellency's care of his Highness during his illness in the precedingautumn, and had been deeply impressed by her charm which she had chosento exercise upon him. At this moment the Duke's valets entered to remove the blood-filled bowland the cloth used to stanch the blood, these having been left by thephysician's orders, as it was imperative for Serenissimus to beundisturbed till he regained entire consciousness. The lackeys searchedfor the cloth, and not finding it, inquired if the physician had removedit. Baron Roeder, who was waiting in his Highness's writing-closet, heardthe question through the open door. He tiptoed to the threshold andinformed the physician that her Excellency the Landhofmeisterin hadcarried away the cloth. His Highness heard, and, starting up, commandedRoeder to bring it back forthwith. 'But, your Highness, her Excellency has carried it to La Favorite, ' saidthe astonished courtier. 'You are to fetch it and bring it here! I tell you to go. If herExcellency will not give it, take it by force--by force, do you hear?Here is my signet-ring, show her that. Take a company of guards withyou--but bring me back that cloth!' The Duke was beside himself; he was weak from loss of blood, and he hadworked himself into a frenzy of fear. Suddenly the woman he had loved fortwenty years had become, to his thinking, a dangerous, threatening witch;she who had lain on his breast, his mistress, the woman who had tendedhim in illness, the hallowed being he had well-nigh worshipped--offeringup his country, his wife, his son, all things at her shrine--now appearedbefore him as the incarnation of evil to be compelled by a company ofguards. In vain the physician essayed to calm his Highness; he was as onedistraught, raving frantically of the missing cloth, of spells andincantations. * * * * * Roeder, arriving at La Favorite, stationed his guards carefully. As afact, the gentleman was terribly alarmed. It was no pleasantry to affrontthe wrath of the Grävenitz. Was she not a tyrant? and tyrants had strangeways of hanging on to power after actual favour was gone past. And wasshe not a witch? it was not reassuring to incur a witch's curse. Nay, butshe was a fallen favourite, the vile amputated canker of a terribleepoch, harmless now the blister of her evil glory was pricked, andyet---- Politely he requested the Landhofmeisterin to deliver up the missingcloth, but she denied possessing it; he insisted, threatened to call theguard, and the whole house should be searched; he had his Highness'swarrant. He showed her the Duke's signet-ring. She raged at him, daredhim to oppose her, menaced him. Then, changing her tone, she cajoled him:if she indeed had the cloth, it would be easy for him to retract hisstatement concerning having seen her purloin it. Then she would be afriend to him; did he forget her power? He questioned her on the uses shewould make of a blood-stained linen rag. She told him she had herpurposes, and he remembered her witch practices, the stories of theghastly ingredients of her magic potions. He alluded to witchcraft, andshe defied him again, then he called the guard; but when the soldiers'tread echoed in the corridor, she drew the cloth from a hidden panel inher bureau and flung it at him, with bitter words cursing him. And hedeparted trembling, the fear of the Grävenitz upon him. Of course this was repeated in high colours to Serenissimus, and hissuperstitious terror deepened. Then the valets blabbed as to how Mariahad often begged for locks of his Highness's hair, for parings of hisnails. More absurdities for the magic love potions, very unappetisingtoo. In a violence of revolt against his once beloved, Eberhard Ludwigsigned an edict banishing the Landhofmeisterin from Ludwigsburg and fromStuttgart. She could remain in Wirtemberg, residing at any of her variouscastles; she should retain her monies, and effects, and her rank; but allpower, all part in the country's government, was taken from her, and hewould see her face no more. In a mighty virtuous frame of mind Serenissimus rode away to Berlin, leaving this document to be enforced in his absence. Meanwhile the Grävenitz waited in a fever of anxiety at La Favorite. Onthe day following his Highness's departure, the document was presented toher by Schütz and several officers of the law. She tore it across andacross, and laughed in their faces. And the solemn officials retired tocommunicate with their Duke at Berlin concerning the further treatment ofthis extraordinary woman. Wirtemberg was much excited, for the news ofher condemnation and of her defiance spread through the country. For daysshe was utterly alone with Maria and her personal domestics. The Sittmann tribe found it necessary for its health to retire toTeinach, a watering-place in the Black Forest; and Friedrich Grävenitzremained secluded at Welzheim, the manor his sister lent him, and whichhe chose to regard as his own property. Ludwigsburg was like a city ofthe dead; the Erbprincessin seldom left her apartments now; day after dayshe sat brooding in deep melancholy. The Erbprinz sometimes rode out fromthe palace, but he avoided the direction of La Favorite. TheLandhofmeisterin, deprived of the company of the man she had loved duringso many years, deprived of her accustomed occupation of governing acountry, used to the homage of courtiers and the blandishments ofparasites, sank into profound dejection. After some two weeks the Landhofmeisterin heard the thud of a canteringhorse's hoofs nearing La Favorite. A wild hope sprang up in her heart: itwas Eberhard Ludwig, of course; he had repented of his harshness, and wascoming to lead her back in loving triumph to Ludwigsburg. The lackey announced that his Highness the Erbprinz awaited herExcellency in the ballroom. Ah! not Serenissimus then; but he had senthis son to tell her the good news. 'Quick, Maria, a dash of rouge, a little powder. Is my hair becominglydressed? Give me my fan--yes! a rose at my bosom. How do I look?' And theGrävenitz sallied down to meet her beloved's son. This was indeed a triumph. The Erbprinz had never visited her at Favoriteor Freudenthal. Everything was coming right, of course--she had known itwould! 'Good morning, Prince Friedrich, it is a great joy to me to see you. Areyou well? you look in good health. ' It was a very smiling, beautifulwoman who spoke. Magnificent--a trifle over-mature perchance; but afull-blown rose is a fine thing, though some prefer the rosebud. 'I thank your Excellency; I am well, but I come on an unpleasantmission--I regret----' 'Serenissimus is not ill, Monseigneur?' she cried. 'No, Madame; my father is in the enjoyment of health, but--but--O Madame!believe me, I am loth to be the bearer of such evil tidings to you, foryou have always been my friend. ' 'Prince Friedrich, if I have been your friend, spare me now; tell mewithout hesitation what your mission is. Alas! I am indeed a strickenwoman. ' In truth, her face was tragic. All the more terrible was this menace toone who had dared to build such a structure of hopefulness upon soslender a basis. 'Madame, my father bids me give you this letter. If you do not obeyimmediately, I am to enforce these commands. I pray you spare me that, dear, dear Madame!' He took her hand in his and kissed it; he was a verytender-hearted, an easily subjugated little grand seigneur. 'Madame la Comtesse de Würben, Comtesse de Grävenitz, Landhofmeisterin deWirtemberg. --In view of a great change impending in my dukedom, I commandyou to depart instantly from my court of Ludwigsburg. You are at libertyto reside at any of the castles you have obtained from me, but I forbidyou to venture into my presence or to importune the members either of mygovernment or of my court. You have refused obedience to my commands, delivered by my Finance Minister, Baron Schütz, and by various high lawofficials. I now make known to you that such future defiance will bepunished as traitorous to me. Here is my warrant and signed decree givenat Berlin this 29th of May 1730, signed Eberhard Ludwig, DuxWirtembergis. ' The Landhofmeisterin read this letter once, then mechanically she read itagain. It was written by his Highness; no secretary had been intrustedwith this precious document. It seemed to her an added cruelty that thewell-known handwriting should form these stern words--the graceful, elegant writing which she had seen blazoning her lover's passionate, poetic homage to her in words of love and promises of fidelity. TheErbprinz stood silent with bowed head. What would she say, what would shedo, this forceful woman? At length, he raised his head and looked at her. She was still poring over the Duke's letter as though its contentspuzzled her. The silence grew intolerable. 'Madame, believe me, I am truly grieved, ' he began. 'Grieved? grieved? Ah! who would not be? This is an outrage, a madness. What! can you believe that I can be banished? I? Why, this whole world isof my making, this Ludwigsburg. Go back and send a messenger to Berlin tosay that I will not go. ' She spoke quietly, almost indifferently. 'Alas! Madame, if you have not left before sunset, I am bound to have youremoved by force, ' he answered. 'You? My poor boy! You?--you remove me?' She began to laugh. 'It may be ridiculous, Madame, ' he said humbly, 'but such are myfather's orders. ' She laughed again. 'Come, Madame, give me your answer. Believe me, I would spare you pain but if you will not go, I am commandedto have you arrested and conveyed to Hohenasperg. ' Then the horror of itcame to the Landhofmeisterin. 'I to Hohenasperg? O God! God! that it should come to this! Ah! thecruelty! But still I will fight to the last--I will never go. ' Her voicehad risen to shrillness, her face was contorted by anger; she lookedincarnate rage, a Megæra. Suddenly her features resumed their usualexpression--nay, more, it was the face of the grande charmeuse. 'Prince Friedrich, help me; this is only a passing mood of your father's!Let me stay here till he returns from Berlin. Use your power for my good;you are heir to all this splendour; you will reap the harvest of beauty Ihave sown at Ludwigsburg. Help me, and you will never regret it. ' She hadcome close to him, smiling into his eyes. The frail, sensitive youthflushed scarlet. 'Prince, you are the image of your father as I knew him twenty years ago. You bring my youth back to me. ' She laid her hand upon his shoulder anddrew him towards her. She was very beautiful for all her forty-fiveyears, her presence was intoxication. 'Friedrich, Friedrich, you could revenge so much--so much neglect, if youwere my friend. ' Her lips were very near to his, her breath was on hischeek. Like most super-sensitive beings, he was vividly passionate; andshe knew it, and this was her last card: to make him love her, aid her tostay at Favorite, then, when Eberhard Ludwig returned, surely jealousywould recall love. It was a dangerous game enough, but it was her lastresource. 'Little Friedrich, who makes me feel young again, ' she murmured. Now herlips are on his--and the room swings round him--while the scent of thefading lilacs in the garden is wafted in with delicious, heavy, unwholesome sweetness. And she herself, caught by an eddy of her feignedpassion, is swept into a wave of sensual recollection. She is in theRothenwald again on a spring morning--overhead a bird sings arhapsody--and she---- With a cry the Prince sprang away from her. 'Madame! O Madame! you tempt me from my duty; you must go from here. Indeed, I cannot help you, but I will not let the guards disturb you, till to-morrow. I pray you, Madame, go this day. ' 'Never; you do not know me! I will never go. Use force if you will--but Istay at Ludwigsburg. ' The Erbprinz turned away sorrowfully. 'Then I cannot help you. ' He took her hand and raised it to his lips. 'Farewell, Madame, ' he whispered. Did his lips linger on her hand alittle longer than custom dictated? She thought so, and smiled to herselfas Prince Friedrich left her. Hardly had the Erbprinz departed when she heard the sound of approachingwheels in the avenue. 'I am receiving many visitors to-day, ' she thoughtbitterly. To her surprise Monseigneur de Zollern was announced. Hegreeted the Landhofmeisterin warmly, though gravely, and immediatelycommenced questioning her on her position. She told him the details ofthe foregoing weeks. Zollern listened attentively, with his hands crossedas usual over the porcelain handle of his stick. He had grown terriblyold in spite of his straight and dapper figure, and his face was likeancient parchment; only the bright, restless eyes seemed eagerly alive. He told the Landhofmeisterin that the news of her misfortune had reachedhim, and that he had come to counsel her immediate retreat. He arguedwith her gently, but she was obdurate; go she would not. Then the old manbegged her to depart; he prayed her, by Madame de Ruth's memory, to bereasonable. 'Consider, Madame, ' he said, 'I am a very old man--yes, yes, old andbroken--and I have travelled far to save you from your own obstinacy, foryou are dear to me; you are my one remaining link with the past, with mypast youth. You were Madame de Ruth's friend, and I cherish you as that. Yes; she was the love of my life--I may say it now, for it is ancienthistory--and she loved you. Would she not have counselled prudence? Flynow, that you may return later. ' At this moment a lackey brought a folded paper to the Grävenitz. 'Unknown to me, General Pruckdorff had received orders from my father toexpel you by force from Favorite and Ludwigsburg if you have not left bysix of the clock this evening. I pray you, Madame, fly! I shall neverforget you. --FRIEDRICH LUDWIG, Erbprinz. ' Without a word the Landhofmeisterin handed the paper to Zollern. 'Ah! a charming invitation!' he said loudly, so that the lackey who stoodwaiting could not fail to hear. 'I should advise you to accept. A mostentertaining fête. Order your carosse, dear Madame. ' Calmly the Landhofmeisterin gave the necessary commands for her coach andoutriders, and summoning Maria she bade her collect some few objects ofvalue and various papers. Then she took leave of Zollern. 'Au revoir, Monseigneur, ' she said. 'Adieu, Madame; this is the last act of the comedy called the GreatIntrigue, ' he answered. * * * * * Yet she tarried till the last moment at La Favorite. It was a terribleleave-taking. She wandered round her pretty rooms, looking her last atthe graceful devices, the slender traceries on wall and ceiling, at thethings she had loved--the beautiful porcelains, the delicate, brocadedhangings. Then she passed out on to the terrace. What a wondrous summerevening it was! The sun was sinking low in the west--when the last rayhad vanished the soldiers would come to drag her away. It was time, shemust hasten--and yet she lingered. She leaned on the balustrade andcontemplated the palace. Her thoughts travelled back to the days whenLudwigsburg was still a-building, and she and Eberhard Ludwig had plannedthe gardens together. 'Here should be a parterre of roses, ' she had said. 'Nay, jasmine and heliotrope here; the roses must be beneath your windowto sigh out their souls before your shrine, ' he had answered. Could it be ended? The habit of years was too strong, she could notrealise. She listened to the summer sounds in the garden: the rustle ofthe gentle breeze in the chestnut-trees, the chirping of thegrasshoppers, the bees droning over the flowers. Spring was past, it wassummer. 'Ah! winter for me; winter and sadness for ever now, ' she moaned. The sun was sinking--she must fly. 'Farewell happiness!' she murmured, and with bent head she passed down the terrace steps and entered hercoach. As she drove down the avenue she heard a bugle ring out from theLudwigsburg casern. 'Ride faster, hasten to Freudenthal!' she called to her postillions, andat a gallop the Landhofmeisterin's coach thundered away westwards to thedistant line of hills where lay Freudenthal. Once she turned as shepassed through the Ludwigsburg gates. She turned and saw the great roofsof the palace which had been reared for her, and whence she washenceforward banished for ever. CHAPTER XXI THE DOWNFALL 'Life is but a vision--what I see Of all which lives alone is life to me, And being so--the absent are the dead, Who haunt us from tranquillity, and spread A dreary shroud around us, and invest With sad remembrances our hours of rest. The absent are the dead--for they are cold. ' BYRON. FREUDENTHAL was full of ghosts for the Grävenitz: Madame de Ruth, herdead friend; Zollern, who had bade her farewell for ever; and EberhardLudwig, the unfaithful lover of her vanished youth. She walked in thegardens, listening involuntarily for the voice which had so often called'Philomèle beloved' from the orchard gate. There was no consolation onearth for her, she knew that; all she had loved, all she had achieved, her power, her great honours, were dead things. The forced inaction ofher future tortured her. How would she pass the long dreary hours of therest of her life? True, the Jewish community of Freudenthal had greetedher with enthusiasm; they were faithful, these despised Israelites. For amoment it had warmed her heart back to a little interest in living. Shebusied herself with the affairs of the village, but she was used to apress of work, of governing, of vital interests; how could these minormatters occupy her for long? She tried to read, but though her eyes followed the lines her thoughtsflashed away to Ludwigsburg. She struck a few chords on the spinet;unconsciously her fingers glided into a melody Eberhard Ludwig had loved, and only a sob broke from her lips when she would have sung. Ghosts atFreudenthal? She was the ghost herself; she was the shadow of bygonedays--the poor, yearning, broken-hearted ghost. They came and told her that Serenissimus had returned from Berlin, andthat he had been greeted by the news of the Erbprinz's serious illness. Prince Friedrich had fallen ill of a nervous fever, they said. Ah, yes!she told herself she had caused it; in her morbid sadness she took theblame of every untoward occurrence upon her shoulders. She had causedFriedrich Ludwig to fall ill, for great emotions must perforce shatter sofrail a being as he was, and she had tortured him, tempted him. One day two travelling coaches rolled into Freudenthal--the Sittmanntribe arrived. It was but ill received by the Grävenitz. Why had theycome? she asked. Her sister informed her that Serenissimus had broken upthe court of Ludwigsburg; he was to reside henceforth at Stuttgart. Hadshe not heard? Oh, yes! His Highness was reconciled with the Duchess, andit was disagreeable for former members of the Ludwigsburg court nowadays. This latter was said in a whiny tone of reproach. 'Get you gone to your own apartments, my sister and my sister's brats! Ifstay you must at Freudenthal, then stay, but leave me now, ' the Grävenitzsaid; and though she was no longer the all-powerful Landhofmeisterin, still there was that about her which made the parasites shrink back. Butthey had done enough, had they not? in telling her thus roughly that thewoman she had loathed and despised with all jealousy's venom duringtwenty years, had triumphed over her at last. The Grävenitz stood before one of the most galling of life's lessons, shehad to bow to the inexorable commonplace. Her whole being was agonised;she was breasting the dark waters of despair, she was living a tragedy, but everyday life had to go on as usual: the necessary routine of it, thedressing, the eating, the lying down to rest at night. She heard thevillage children singing on their way home from school, and theharvesters driving merrily to the fields. Sometimes she would cry out inprotest against Nature, against the unalterable, indifferent working ofthe universe: the smiling sun, the peace of summer evenings. All thingswent their way heedless of her tragedy. Summer blossomed gloriously; then the long, weary days grew shorter, andautumn brought endless nights to the stricken woman. Once, twice she hadwritten to Serenissimus, but no answer came to her. The Erbprinz still battled with death. Eberhard Ludwig and JohannaElizabetha watched together at his bedside, and the Erbprincessin satstonily silent in the darkened room whose gloom seemed deepened by thepoor girl's overshadowed mind. Then in October came the news that Death had conquered; the Erbprinz hadpassed away, and the Erbprincessin, half-mad already, had fallen intosuch despair that her clouded soul grew utterly black, and she raved inhopeless insanity. Truly God's hand was heavy upon Wirtemberg. A few days after this terrible news the Grävenitz, wandering moodily inthe Freudenthal garden, heard the rattle of an approaching troop ofhorse. He was coming to fetch her, of course--her lover, her trusted one. She had known he must come! And she hurried away to her tiring-room todon her finest raiment. She would meet him like a bride. Was it notfitting that she should be gorgeously attired on this great day oftriumph--this renascence of joy in her life? The gown of golden cloth lay spread out for her; she always kept itready, for she knew he would come. 'Quick, Maria, ' she called, as with trembling hands she began her toilet;'quick! His Highness comes!' She seemed young again, with flushed cheeksand shining eyes. Then her sister Sittmann burst into the room. 'Wilhelmine, I hardly know how to tell you--it is----' she said, but theGrävenitz interrupted her. 'You need not--for I know--I always knew. ' She stood before the mirrorfastening a diamond ornament into her hair, and her glowing eyes met hersister's reflected in the glass. 'Good lack, sister! what ails you?' she cried, for the Sittmann's facewas ashen, and she gazed at the Grävenitz in terrified bewilderment. 'Who do you think has come, then? Wilhelmine, you are mad! It is a troopof horse, headed by Roeder, with a warrant for your arrest. ' The diamonds slipped from the Grävenitz's fingers, and fell unheeded onthe floor, while all the glow and youth faded from her face. 'What are you saying? It is you who are mad--I know--it is his Highness, 'she stammered hoarsely, seemingly incapable of comprehending the meaningof her sister's words. Suddenly her vigour returned, her courage, andthat perfect grip of startling events which had stood her in good steadfor many years. 'Where are they? Maria, bolt all the doors--quick, girl! In the court, you say? Tell them I am in the garden, send them round, then shut and bareach window. ' She gave her orders clearly and calmly, like some general, the practised commander in a hundred sieges. By this time all the inmatesof Freudenthal had gathered at the door of her apartment: Baron Sittmannand his sons, the brothers Pfau, a horde of serving men and women. Oncemore the Grävenitz seemed to be the great Landhofmeisterin whose lightestword was law, and they did her bidding without question or comment. 'Back, all of you, I will speak with Baron Roeder. ' She moved to herbedchamber window which looked upon the garden. Below, on the terrace, stood Roeder and another officer consulting together in low tones, whilethrough the garden tramped the soldiers, seeking her whom they hadtreated with royal honours for twenty years. She flung open the windowand stood before the two officers. 'Monsieur le Baron Roeder, ' she said slowly, 'to what do I owe thepleasure of your visit? I am rejoiced to see you; but kindly desire yourmen to spare my garden--they are ruining my flowers. ' Roeder looked dumbfounded. 'Certainly, your Excellency, ' he stammered, 'but I must crave a word withyou immediately. ' 'I regret, Monsieur, that illness confines me to my room. I cannotreceive you. Tell me your business from where you are. ' She spokemockingly, looking down at the man below. 'Impossible! Madame, I must speak with you face to face, ' he saidangrily; and indeed it was an absurd situation. 'We are face to face, Monsieur de Roeder, and I pray you tell me yourmission without delay. I am fatigued with standing so long. Come, I amnot in the habit of waiting, Monsieur. ' 'Then, Madame, I arrest you in the Duke's name. You are my prisoner, andif you will not come quietly, I shall be obliged to use force, '--thiswith a gesture towards the soldiers, who had formed into line behind him. 'I am Countess of the Empire, Landhofmeisterin of Wirtemberg, and nonebut my superior can arrest me, Monsieur. Also, this house of mine is onfree territory, subject only to the authority of the Emperor. I refuse tobe arrested, I refuse to give you admittance, and I command you towithdraw. ' She spoke perfectly calmly, with the tone given by the habitof command, which she had wielded for nigh upon a quarter of a century. Roeder hesitated; what she said might be true, and he greatly feared her, but he had his orders from the Duke. He recalled his Highness's wordswhen he had intrusted him with the Grävenitz's arrest: 'I have not doneenough. God's vengeance is not fulfilled. The witch-woman, theLand-despoiler is still at large in my country, and God has taken my onlyson from me. I must purge my land of this sinner--punish her--break herin atonement, ' his Highness had said. The Duke was firmly persuaded thatso long as the Grävenitz remained free, God's wrath would be onWirtemberg, and the notion was fostered by her enemies. No one spoke ofher now save as the 'Land-despoiler, ' that name which the peasantry hadcalled her in secret for many years. 'Madame, give yourself up peaceably, or I shall force my way in, ' Roedercalled to her; but she had gone from the window, and the house wasshuttered, and with closed doors. Then began the work of breaking into the manor of Freudenthal. Twentysoldiers hacked in the doors with axes, while the rest stood sentrykeeping the Jews at bay, for the members of the Jewish settlementgathered round, eager to protect their friend; but they were unarmed, andthe inherited submission of their oppressed race made them poorprotectors. The soldiers poured into the house. Roeder was receivedbefore the Grävenitz's door by Madame de Sittmann. She implored him tospare her sister, who, she assured him, was really ill. The door leadingfrom the Grävenitz's apartment was bolted from within. He knocked loudly, but there being no response, he summoned the soldiers to break it in. With a crash the door yielded, falling inwards. And then he saw hisquarry. She stood in the middle of the room, erect, vigorous, a veryflame of hatred burning in her eyes. She was clad in the golden gownwhich she had donned in honour of joy's return; on her breast was theorder of St. Hubertus, and the jewels of Wirtemberg gleamed on her neckand in her hair. Never had she looked more beautiful, more magnificentthan in this hour of her defeat, and even Roeder stood silent and abashedbefore her. 'Well, Monsieur le Baron de Roeder, ' she said, 'so you have defied meagain? See here, I curse you; you have called me a witch, and you arecursed by me. It will not bring you happiness. ' 'It is my duty, Madame, ' he replied steadily. Her face changed. 'You are right, man; I grow petty in my old age. See, I forgive you. Alas! my hour has struck. ' She held out her hands towards him. 'Do notbind my wrists, I will come. It is useless to fight Fate. Ah, Roeder!Roeder! whither are you dragging me?' Her potent charm was alive in everyword. After all, it was a greater weapon than curses; she knew that, andused it now. 'I thank your Excellency for aiding me in my terrible task, ' said Roederhuskily. 'Is there anything in which I may serve you before we start?' 'No, Monsieur, I am ready; only permit my maid Maria to accompany me, andto bring such things as are necessary for my comfort, ' she said quietly. 'It is against his Highness's orders, Excellency, ' he began; but shesmiled at him, la grande charmeuse, and as usual she conquered. * * * * * Sadly the cortège left Freudenthal. Only once did the Grävenitz breakdown. As she passed the orchard gate where Eberhard Ludwig had so oftenstood on summer evenings calling 'Philomèle beloved, ' she bent her head, and, sobbing bitterly, murmured: 'Change is Death. ' * * * * * The fortress of Hohenasperg stands about half a league from Ludwigsburg. In the midst of rich orchards this gaunt rock rises abruptly from theplain like some huge fist of a heathen god, threatening the peace of thefruitful land with sombre menace. From heathen days it was named Asperg, after the Aasen or Germanic gods, whose sacred mountain it was. Roundthis stronghold men fought for centuries: naked barbarians against Romanlegions; rebellious knights of old against Imperial troops; Protestantgenerals against the armies of the Holy Roman Empire; later, Wirtembergers against the invading Frenchmen. Asperg, impregnable in wartime, was a prison in times of peace; from its dark walls and giantramparts escape was impossible for the prisoner. The very name of Aspergwas a terror, its shape was awe-inspiring. And hither they broughtWilhelmine von Grävenitz on that smiling October afternoon. Slowly hercoach rumbled up to the grim gate over which a sinister lion's headfrowns down at those who enter this stern prison. The arms of Wirtembergare emblazoned on each side of the lion's head, surmounted by that ducalcrown for which the Grävenitz had made so audacious a struggle. Her coach drew up before this gate and Roeder bade her descend. Here hischarge ended, he had conveyed the Land-despoiler to durance vile. Thegovernor of the prison met his prisoner at the gate. A bluff-manneredWirtemberger, short of stature, red of visage, and with fiery littletwinkling eyes beneath heavy, bristling eyebrows. A fierce bull-dog manhe looked, but his appearance belied him; for he was a tender-heartedgentleman, and received his prisoner with a courteous consideration whichmany a polished courtier would not have offered to the fallen tyrant. Upthe steep, dark, well-like road to the inner courtyard he led theGrävenitz, followed by Maria, who wept bitterly. 'I have orders to lodge you safely, Excellency. Safe you will be here, and I do not purpose to restrict your liberty greatly, ' he said as heushered her into a small chamber with a door leading on to the ramparts. Two sentries stood on either side of the entrance to her apartment, butfor the rest the room was clean and pleasant, and commanded a fair viewof the plain beneath. 'I thank you, Monsieur, for your kindness, ' she said, approaching thebarred window. Then she gave a little cry, like to the moan of onewounded when a fresh agony is inflicted. 'Give me a cell, Monsieur--a dungeon; only not that--not that--if youhave mercy in your heart!' she pointed tragically through the window. Inthe dying sunlight lay the great palace of Ludwigsburg, the roundedroofs, the terraces, and the Château Joyeux of La Favorite in the midstof flowering parterres. 'I regret, Madame, believe me. I regret infinitely, but I have notanother apartment to offer you. Do not look from the window overmuch, Madame. ' The old man's voice broke and he put out his strong rough handto draw her away from the beautiful, peaceful view. But how inconsistentis the human heart! She waved him away, and stood as though rooted to thespot, her eyes fixed upon the scene of her passed happiness. * * * * * At first the tumult in her heart shut out the peace which was silentlywaiting for admittance; the peace of seclusion bringing those calmthoughts which wait upon the fevered soul of man in Nature's vastaloofness. Gradually the beauty of the fruitful plain with its cornfieldsand rich orchards, the mystery of the far-off hills on the horizon, thepoetry of the distant, dark-blue line of the forests, the song of thewind murmuring through those few trees which had sprung up on thefortress terraces and ramparts unabashed by warfare; gradually this peacecame to the Grävenitz, and she grew calm. True, she agonised when hereyes fell upon Ludwigsburg, and she raged when the prison governor toldher of the march of events in Stuttgart; but still she knew a greaterpeace, a more equable inner life than had been hers in the day of herpower. A commission waited upon her, demanding the restitution of the jewels ofWirtemberg. Some she had carried with her to Hohenasperg, some had beenalready found at Freudenthal. It cost her a pang to part with the jewels. Had not Eberhard Ludwig given each one to her with a lover's vow, apassionate word? They demanded also that she should give up certain locks of hisHighness's hair which she had unlawfully retained for purposes ofdetestable magic. She made answer that she had but one strand of his hairin a diamond locket. She said that she had worn this on her heart fortwenty years. 'Is that magic, Messieurs?' she asked. Had they known it, they had indeed touched upon one of her sorceress secrets--the charm of awoman who can love a man with undying poetry and romance. They told herthat she must give up this pathetic lock of hair, that she retained it tobrew love potions and such abominations. They took it from her, leavingher the empty crystal locket with its encircling diamonds. 'How you fear me, Messieurs!' she said with a flash of her old defiance. Then they left her with her empty locket and her empty life. Yet her atonement was only beginning; 'the wages of sin is death, ' andworse than death a long-drawn agony of humiliation and loneliness. Abasement, shame, defeat, fear, inaction, loneliness, yearning--all theseshe had drunk in her cup of suffering, but in the dregs there remainedone more drop of gall--jealousy. Now, in the spring before she left Ludwigsburg, she had been annoyed by arumour which had caused much commotion among the Wirtemberg peasants, andeven the courtiers had been infected with a wave of superstitiousinterest. In the house of Wirtemberg there is a legend which tells howCount Eberhard the Bearded, in humility and repentance of his youthfulsins, made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem accompanied by twenty-four nobleyouths bound by sacred vows to purity and godly life. When Count Eberhardwas praying before the Holy Sepulchre, of a sudden a witheredwhitethorn-tree quickened and blossomed in token of God's grace, and apriest in Eberhard's following prophesied that so long as the worldlasted, this thorn-tree should flower whenever the noble race ofWirtemberg should bloom anew. Piously the pilgrims bore the thorn-treeback to their native land, and set it in a fair and sheltered spot nearto the abode of a venerable hermit. Here Count Eberhard instituted anorder of prayerful monks, garbed in fair blue habits, and for manygenerations these holy men tended the thorn-tree, building giant supportsbeneath its spreading roots and vigorous branches. In Protestant days thepoor thorn-tree was forgotten, save by the peasants who clung to theirold legends and vowed that, whenever an heir was born to the house ofWirtemberg, the aged thorn put forth a flowering branch. It happened that, shortly before the Grävenitz was banished fromLudwigsburg, Eberhard Ludwig, in the course of his wood wanderings, cameto Einsiedel where stood the ruined monastery and the fateful thorn-tree. An old peasant woman, who was gathering sticks for her fire in thedeserted monastery garden, told him of the legend, and, pointing to thewhitethorn, exclaimed: 'You who are a traveller, go to the palace andtell the Duke that the thorn has blossomed. Tell him to leave the wantonLand-despoiler, and go back to his true wife. God has caused the thorn tobloom anew in token of pardon, and there will be an heir born toWirtemberg to take the place of the dying Erbprinz. ' Now the Erbprinz wasnot dying when the old crone spoke these words, but Eberhard Ludwig, always feverishly anxious for his son's welfare, hurried back toLudwigsburg in an agony of fear and related the peasant woman's prophecy, and the strange fact of that ancient thorn-tree putting forth a spray ofwhite blossom. Her Excellency the Landhofmeisterin had been much offendedby the story, and had mocked Serenissimus for his credulity. Of course when, shortly after this event, Eberhard Ludwig repudiated hismistress and returned to his neglected Duchess, popular reportimmediately had it that the whitethorn had prophesied the happyoccurrence, and that her Highness Johanna Elizabetha was to become amother. This the Grävenitz had heard during her sojourn at Freudenthal, but it was in November at Asperg that she heard the Duchess was indeedwith child. At first she vowed she did not believe it; it was an absurdstory started by the believers in that ridiculous thorn-tree; but whenthe fact of her Highness's pregnancy could be doubted no longer, theGrävenitz fell into an agony of jealousy. She paced her small room likesome tortured tigress; she cursed all men; she sobbed in a passion ofanger. Waking or sleeping the thought never left her. Her dreams were forever of Eberhard Ludwig and the woman she hated. God, how she despisedher! How she shuddered at the thought of her motherhood. She told herselfthat it was disgust, and even as she formulated the thought she knew thatit was envy--cruel, aching envy which tortured her. She was jealous, then? She? The very supposition was an abasement. Could she be jealous ofthat dull, heavy woman, with her reddened eyes? But she would be themother of his child. . . . They told her that prayers for her Highness's safe delivery were offeredup in all the churches in Wirtemberg, and that there was immenserejoicing in the land. There was no doubt then, and the Grävenitz'sdreams were unending of the Duchess holding out a beautiful man-child toEberhard Ludwig, who smiled in happiness and peace. At length one day in December Maria told her that there were excitingrumours in the village which nestles at the base of the fortress rock ofHohenasperg. The Duchess was sick unto death, they said, and the doctorswere entirely puzzled. Into the Grävenitz's heart there crept a ray ofhope. God forgive her! she prayed for death to visit Stuttgart's castle. Daily she sent Maria to the village to learn the news. One day thegovernor came to her and told her he had a terrible thing to communicate. Good, honest man, he often spent an hour with his prisoner telling hernews of the outer world. 'The Duchess has suffered a cruel disappointment, Madame, ' he said; 'allWirtemberg will condole with her. Her hopes are ended, the doctors havebeen mistaken, there will be no heir to the Dukedom. Her Highness suffersfrom dropsy. Great heavens! what ails you?' he cried, for the Grävenitzhad flung herself back into her chair, convulsed in a horrible paroxysmof mirthless laughter. * * * * * The plain below Hohenasperg was white with snow--a light fall, which laythinly on the even ground but had failed to whiten the fortress rock, where only patches clung, emphasising the sombre colour of the stonehill. The sky was leaden, lowering, sinister, pregnant with unborn snow. A company of horsemen took its way up the steep road leading from thevillage of Asperg to the fortress. Following this cavalcade was a coachdrawn by four horses. The Grävenitz, standing on the west terrace, watched the horsemen approach. She wondered idly if another Stateprisoner was being conveyed to Hohenasperg. She saw the leader of thetroop parleying with the sentry. He showed a document to the man; thenthe outer gate swung back and the cavalcade was hidden from her sightbetween the gloomy walls of the steep, dark lane leading up to the secondor inner gate. She turned away; after all, these things were of noaccount to her. That was one of her agonies; she to whom all things hadmattered, the much occupied, the ruler, the indefatigableadministrator--she was forced into lethargic quiescence. Every hour wasempty for her. She turned away listlessly. The afternoon was drawing to aclose. It would be a white world to-morrow, she reflected, for thoseswollen clouds could not hold the snow longer. The prison governor was coming along the terrace towards her. She greetedhim in friendly fashion; but at first he spoke no word, only took bothher hands in his. 'I have bad news, Madame, ' he said, after a pause. 'Ah! tell me; I am used to sadness now. What is it? O God! but it is notsome accident to Serenissimus?' she said. The old man shook his head. 'No, Madame, but you are to be removed from my care. And I fear----' hebegan. 'Death? Would he dare? After all, perhaps, it were better, ' she saidcalmly. 'No, not that; you are to be moved to Hohen-Urach. . . . Madame, theywill try you for your life. Alas! his Highness believes you have cast aspell upon the Duchess and caused her misfortune. Asperg is too close toStuttgart. ' She smiled at him. 'It does not signify, dear friend. One prison is likeanother, I suppose; but I shall miss my jailor! Let me thank you, Monsieur, for your great courtesy to the fallen Land-despoiler. ' Shespoke almost gaily, and the governor turned away his head. 'I would help you, Excellency; pray God I may be able to serve you oneday, ' he said huskily. 'Tell them I shall start to-morrow, when the snowstorm is over. I shallbe prepared. ' 'I regret--Excellency--In truth, I scarce know how to tell you--It isordered that you shall travel to-day--immediately, ' he said. 'A prisoner has no choice, Monsieur, ' she answered bitterly. * * * * * As the cortège passed out of the Hohenasperg gate, the first snowflakesfell, and when they reached the village at the foot of the hill there wasa whirling storm. The journey to Urach through the snow was terrible. For hours thecavalcade wandered in the snowdrifts between Nürtingen and Urach, andwhen at length the unhappy woman was housed for a few hours' rest in avillage inn, her slumber was broken by the sounds of rude merriment inthe hall below her sleeping-room, where the peasants were dancing. Shewas wont to say afterwards that this trivial episode had been one of hermost painful experiences. Her nerves were on the rack, for she expectedthat some cruel trial awaited her at Urach. She was terribly weary fromthe long hours of wandering, and from cold and exposure; her pride hadbeen galled by the gaping, laughing, jeering, mocking crowd of peasantswhich had stood round her while the captain of the guard madearrangements for her night's lodging. Then her sensitive ear was torturedby the peasants' music, which beat on and on in monotonous, inharmoniousmeasure all through the night. If suffering is atonement for sin, certain it is that the Grävenitzagonised at Urach. Her imprisonment was infinitely more rigorous than ithad been at Hohenasperg. The governor treated her with scantconsideration, and answered her questions shortly. He forbade thefaithful Maria either to go to the town or to speak with the otherinhabitants of the fortress prison. Thus the Grävenitz had no knowledgeof the doings in the world. She tasted real imprisonment, the torture ofbeing entirely cut off from human interests. Also she was left inignorance of her future. Death, banishment, perpetual imprisonment? Sheknew nothing. She penned passionate appeals to his Highness, but thegovernor informed her that he could forward no writings from a prisonerawaiting trial. 'When shall I be tried, and for what offences?' she demanded. 'I am not at liberty to say, ' he returned, and left her. She fell ill, or feigned to do so, and when the apothecary tended her sheoffered him vast sums if he would tell her what had occurred inStuttgart. The man reported this to the prison governor, who furtherrestricted the Grävenitz's liberty in punishment. She was no longerpermitted to walk on the ramparts. She grew really ill after this. Formany days she lay upon the rude pallet, which was called bed at Urach, and, turning her face to the wall, refused to take nourishment. Maria, inan agony of fear, sought the governor and told him her Excellency laydying. 'A very curious coincidence, ' said the governor musingly. 'How, sir? I do not understand, ' inquired Maria. 'It is said that his Highness lies dying also; there can be no harm intelling you that, ' replied the cautious official. Maria, burdened withher sorrowful secret, returned to watch over her beloved mistress. Forweeks the Grävenitz pined in hopeless sadness and physical illness, thenher old spirit returned, and she faced life again. Maria had not told herthat Serenissimus was sick unto death, dead perhaps by this time; sheknew not, for none at Hohen-Urach would answer the witch's serving-maid. Spring came, and the Grävenitz petitioned the prison governor to permither to walk on the ramparts as before. Unwillingly the man acceded to herrequest, and once more she was at liberty to breathe the air of heaven, and to feast her eyes upon the majestic view of the hill-country. Butthere was pain for her, even in this her one enjoyment, for from therampart she looked down upon that little hill-town of Urach which hadseen her in the heyday of her youth and love. She could even see thewindows of the Golden Hall where she had held high revel on that summernight so long ago, and whence she had fled before the Emperor's sterndecree. Remembrance was pain, and yet her thoughts lingering in the pastbrought her echoes of joy and laughter. What matter if the echo wassoftened by a sigh? At length, in August, an attorney waited upon her in her prison. He wascharged to defend her in her trial, he said. A semblance of justice wasto be meted out to her; she should benefit by the pleadings of a man oflaw. This personage was a village notary, and all unfitted by knowledgeor experience to battle against the skilled prosecutors. And yet she wasgrateful; for, at least, she would thus learn of what she was accused. The list of her crimes was appalling. Firstly: treason. Secondly:purloining of lands and monies. Thirdly: witchcraft and black magic. Fourthly: bigamous intent. Fifthly: attempted murder. It ischaracteristic of the age that the fifth indictment should not have beenthe first. Her treason consisted in having grasped the reins of government from thehand of their rightful wielder, his Highness Eberhard Ludwig ofWirtemberg; in having kept back from his knowledge many facts in theadministration of the country, and destroying documents addressed to him. Also in having been untrue to him in word and deed. Almost comic thislast--a sort of topsy-turvy adultery charge! 'Purloining of lands and monies. ' She replied that if his Highness'spresents were accounted to her as peculation, she had been guilty. Forthe rest she, having governed the country in his name and with hissanction, had made free use of the revenues for legitimate and publicofficial purposes, exactly as do other rulers, be they kings, dukes, orministers of state. To the charge of witchcraft and black magic she refused to make answer, save that she denied harming man, woman, child, or beast. She was stillhoist with her own petard: the pitiful belief in the potency of herabsurdities. Bigamous intent she repudiated proudly. She had been married in all legalform, and according to the ancient privileges of ruling princes to taketo wife whom they chose, provided they, by open and public decree, declared any prior union null and void. It had pleased the Emperor asover-lord to decide otherwise, and she had bowed to this decision, thusforfeiting her just rights. For this she could not be punished, sheaverred. The attempted murder she denied absolutely. It was an absurd storyfounded on the indiscretion of an insane servant, whom she had dismissedfrom her service. For the rest, she referred her accusers and her judges to the first, andonly competent witness on her side, viz. His Highness Duke EberhardLudwig of Wirtemberg. Such in few words are the contents of the massive dossier of her trial, and her dignified answers. The details these gentlemen of the law permitted themselves to prepareare numerous, and unfit for publication to-day. Her alleged misconduct(she being mistress, not wife--the term seems strangely applied!) isaccompanied with a dozen disgusting stories, which it must be said wereentirely fabricated for the trial; and, as she herself pointed out, thechief and only competent witness on her side was the man she had lovedand lived with for over twenty years, --who, however, was the very personto permit the commencement of this trial, and must have read and approvedthe accusations in all their revolting details! He also, and he alone, could prove that the woman had governed, purloined, etcetera, with hissanction. He alone could say whether he had made free gifts to hisbeloved mistress of lands, jewels, and monies; or whether she hadappropriated them without his consent. Concerning the witchcraft charge it is difficult to exculpate theGrävenitz, seeing she herself refused to deny her magic practices, andthere is little doubt that she possessed that magnetic or hypnotic power, the use whereof our ancestors called witchcraft. It is curious tospeculate how much of this power, in wonderfully subtle and varied forms, exists in every human being of whom we say: 'They have great personalcharm. ' The village notary carried the Grävenitz's answers to Stuttgart, and formany weeks the unhappy woman heard no more of her trial. She waited in afever of impatience, but she dared not make any endeavour to obtain newsfor fear the governor should see fit once more to restrict her littleliberty. Her pride was not broken; it was terribly sentient, quivering withpainful defeat and humiliation. Worse than all was the silence she wasforced to maintain. She spoke with Maria, but the good, tender-heartedpeasant, though she sympathised passionately and with that noble loyaltyof which such women are capable, yet she could not comprehend or respondto the workings of her mistress's brain, could not offer consolation tothe cultured mind. In truth, it was a terrible downfall, a disaster; this gorgeous life, this towering success, which of a sudden had been broken, flung down intothe very depths of mortal abasement. The summer days passed. Autumn came, and still no news arrived fromStuttgart, nor did the notary return to give her information. Suspensedeepened to melancholy, and, as the days dragged by, melancholy wassupplanted by despair. 'I shall die in Hohen-Urach, ' she said to Maria. At length towards the beginning of November the notary arrived. 'Your trial will take place soon, Excellency, ' he said. 'It has beenretarded by his Highness's illness; that being over, the matter willproceed. ' The man rubbed his hands in self-satisfaction. He was persuaded that theauthorities in Stuttgart had chosen him for his qualities of mind andknowledge of law, and he had become a very important personage in his ownestimation and in that of his cronies in the village. 'His Highness's illness, Herr Märkle? I pray you tell me what has ailedthe Duke?' Her voice shook a little, but the man had spoken so airilythat she could not believe the Duke's illness had been serious. 'Ah, Excellency! you were unaware of the sad circumstances? Yes, truly, along and painful malady; lung trouble it was. ' 'It is over then? quite passed? I rejoice, ' she returned. 'Yes, Excellency; it ended a week ago. His Highness died in his sleep. ' She looked at him for a full moment as one deaf, who, knowing some onehas spoken some word, hears not and wonders pitifully. The notary hadturned away and busied himself with writings and documents on the table. Already his thoughts were rehearsing a wonderful oration he would speak, a masterpiece of pleading. What a great man he was, to be sure! Ofcourse, he would move to Stuttgart. His ambition soared--surely a verygreat lawyer. A rustle of silken garments in the room behind him, and two hands fell onhis shoulders: hands of iron they seemed. 'Say that again; you do not know what you have said. ' It was a strangevoice which spoke: a voice so hoarse, so toneless, that the fat littleman trembled, recalling in a flash the stories of witches' transformationinto ravening wolves or terrible demons. He wriggled round. The Grävenitzstood over him, her hands upon his shoulders, her eyes like two flamesscanning his face. 'Say what, Excellency? I do not know----' The trivial fact of the Duke'sdeath and of this woman's agony had been lost for him in his dream of hisown judicial splendour. 'What did you say of his Highness? Tell me, or I will kill you, ' shereturned in the same fearful voice. 'I said what all the world knows: that the Duke Eberhard Ludwig died fromlung trouble, on the 31st of October--a week ago, '--he answered angrily, struggling to remove those gripping hands from his shoulders. 'It is a lie! Another lie to torture me. Go, you lying, cruel devil--theDuke shall punish you. ' She was mad for the moment; sense, dignity, all was swept away in herterrified fury. She pushed the man from the room, her murderous handsgripping and bruising his shoulders with demoniacal force. 'Go, liar!' she cried, as she thrust the little man through the door. She stood silent and motionless. 'He said that all the world knew, ' shewhispered hoarsely. She flung herself face downwards on the stone floor of the prison-room, moaning and biting her hands like one possessed of a devil. * * * * * Duke Karl Alexander, successor to Eberhard Ludwig, was a gallantgentleman, hero of a hundred battles. He was received in Wirtemberg withpopular enthusiasm, in spite of the damning fact that he was a RomanCatholic. He reassured his people by swearing to uphold the EvangelicalChurch. This being so, he began his reign with the entire approbation ofthe Wirtembergers, and in the press of business and rejoicings the trialof the Grävenitz seemed forgotten. Still, the mass of carefully preparedaccusations remained, and the gentlemen of the law but bided their time. Meanwhile the chorus of approval in Stuttgart wavered; for if EberhardLudwig had countenanced the Land-despoiler, Karl Alexander was also ruledby a favourite, into whose hands he confided the administration of theDukedom. This favourite was Joseph Süss Oppenheimer, a Frankfort Jew. Tothe horror of officialdom, Süss was made Minister of Finance, and, inpoint of fact, chief adviser to the new Duke. Unheard of that a Jew should be admitted into the government! That one ofthe despised race should appear at court; not only appear, but rule, direct all things, be the familiar friend of a noble Duke! If money had been levied by the Grävenitz, far heavier taxes were imposedby Süss Oppenheimer. If the court at Ludwigsburg had been brilliant andlavish in the Land-despoiler's day, it was the scene of an unendingseries of costly festivities under the new régime. And if the late Duke'smistress had been ruinous to the country's finance, the new Dukemaintained half a dozen such ladies in the greatest splendour. Süss wasaccused of arranging the Duke's relations with these ladies, and ofsharing their favours with his unsuspecting patron. It is certain thatthe Jew led a dissolute life, and that his amours were numerous. The Wirtembergers were in despair, and murmured more ominously than ever;but they were powerless. Süss was master of the situation, exactly as theGrävenitz had been before. Of all this the prisoner at Hohen-Urach knew nothing. She succeeded inpersuading the governor to forward a letter from her to her brother, Friedrich Grävenitz, in which she implored him to visit her; but shereceived no answer from that estimable personage. In point of fact, hewas in an awkward predicament himself. True, he had sided against hissister openly, but the Duke, not relishing a too glaring reminder of thepast, had commanded him to retire to Welzheim. At Eberhard Ludwig's deathGrävenitz waited upon Karl Alexander, who, honest gentleman, disapprovedof a brother showing open hostility and ingratitude to a sister, andbegged the petitioner to return to his country-seat. Now Grävenitz, to his horror, found that he was implicated in hissister's misdemeanours. Had he not shared in the benefits of herpeculations? In vain he protested, denouncing his sister and benefactressin pompous self-righteous words and writings. But the legal authoritiespaid no heed, and intimated briefly that Welzheim did not belong to him, although he held it in his possession; nine points of the law certainly, but not conferring ownership. He was directed to relinquish Welzheim tothe new Duke's representatives. This he declined with many high-flownexpressions, which, however, the legal gentlemen considered beside thepoint at issue; and Count Friedrich Grävenitz was lodged in his ownpalace in Stuttgart, under arrest and well guarded. He was tried forpeculation, but the prosecution ceased when Friedrich Grävenitz consentedto deliver up Welzheim to his Highness the Duke, and to pay a fine offifty-six thousand gulden. He was liberated and permitted to leave thecountry, which he did, repairing to Vienna where he appealed to theimperial tribunal for justice. When he received his sister's letter he was under arrest, and later hisown affairs absorbed him. So the Grävenitz's appeal remained unanswered. The appointed day came for her trial, and the village notary spoke hisdreamed-of oration. The tribunal listened, or appeared to listen, but thesentence was a foregone conclusion. Wilhelmine von Grävenitz, Countess ofWürben, late Landhofmeisterin of Wirtemberg, was condemned to death. Yet it was written in her book of Destiny, that Vienna should interferein all the important events of her life. The Emperor intimated that, asCountess of the Empire, she could not be put to death without hisconsent, and this he withheld. Süss Oppenheimer[2], Wirtemberg's Ministerof Finance, had appealed on her behalf. The sentence was commuted toperpetual imprisonment and forfeiture of all lands, monies, and jewels. This information was imparted to her by the prison governor. She receivedit calmly, merely remarking: 'Death would have been much shorter. ' Shehad sunk into an apathy since the news of his Highness's decease. The winter passed without event. Spring found the Grävenitz grownwhite-haired, and she had fallen into the habit of patient, indifferentacquiescence in all things. Maria wished her to walk upon the rampartsfor an hour's fresh air? Very well, she would go. 'Your Excellency must eat, must sleep, must rest. ' 'Certainly; it does not matter. I will do as you say, Maria. ' It was as though she gave her body into the peasant woman's command; hersoul was elsewhere, in that mysterious land into which her eyes seemed tobe for ever gazing with painful, straining effort, seeking--seeking andimploring. Towards the end of May, an official document was brought to the governorof Hohen-Urach. It contained the pardon of Wilhelmine von Grävenitz, provided she undertook to leave Wirtemberg for ever, and to abandon anyfuture claims upon land or property of all sorts in the Dukedom. Thegovernor was directed to accompany the lady to the frontier, with anescort of two hundred horse. Further, he was to place in her hand, at themoment of her passing out of Wirtemberg territory, a sum of a hundredthousand gulden, 'in fair compensation for any loss incurred, ' it was setforth in the pardon. With this surprising document was a sealed letteraddressed to the Grävenitz, which was to be delivered immediately. The governor repaired to the prisoner's apartment, but found it deserted. The Grävenitz was taking the air upon the ramparts. He found her leaningover the stone parapet, gazing, as usual, into the distance with thoseterrible, haunted, unseeing eyes. In vain the valley was radiant withSpring's tender treasury; she gazed unseeing at the wealth of blossom, the feathery green of the beech-trees, and at the rounded hills so richin sombre firs enhancing the wondrous youth of the beech leaves; at thelittle hill-town, red-roofed and sheltered, clustering round the oldcastle. All this peaceful beauty of Nature's renascence was nothing toher. As she had said, death would have been much shorter; this long-drawnagony, this numb pain, was death in life. 'I have the happiness to announce to your Excellency that his Highnessthe Duke has granted you pardon. When it suits you to travel, I am toaccompany you to the frontier under escort, ' the governor said coldly. She turned her eyes upon him, but she gave no sign of comprehension; onceonly she started and winced, when he said his Highness the Duke, otherwise she remained unmoved and unresponding as one deaf. He waited amoment for her to speak, then slowly repeated his announcement. 'Where am I to go to?' she said at last in a low, uncertain voice. 'Where it pleases your Excellency. Anywhere out of Wirtemberg. ' She turned to Maria who stood behind her. 'Have I a house anywhere? Ihave forgotten, ' she said. 'Surely, surely, Excellency; your castle at Schaffhausen, ' replied thepeasant woman. 'Very well; we will start to-morrow for Schaffhausen, ' the Grävenitzanswered in her new, broken, docile voice. 'There is a letter for you, Madame, ' the governor told her. 'A letter? Who should write to me? The dead do not write. ' 'O Madame! Madame! read it; there may be good news, ' cried Maria. 'Good news? Good news for me? There can be none. Do you not know thatthere can be none?' she said tonelessly. Even the governor's eyes were wet as he handed her the letter. She brokethe seal listlessly. 'I send you the best terms I can make for you, in remembrance of theJudengasse of Stuttgart, and in gratitude for your kindness to myrace. --JOSEPH SÜSS OPPENHEIMER. ' * * * * * Fastened in one corner of this short missive glittered a little jewel. The Grävenitz looked long at it, not comprehending. Then a scene of herpast came back to her--she was in a darkened room, which smelt ofstrange, sweet essences, and a Jewish boy sang a Hebrew love-song. Joseph Süss Oppenheimer, the Jew, had proved himself, in this instance, to be truly what Eberhard Ludwig had called him in pleasantry many yearsago--'un preux chevalier. ' One who could render homage and service to afallen favourite. FOOTNOTES: [2] Joseph Süss Oppenheimer was the son of Michaele, a famous Jewishbeauty, daughter of Rabbi Salomon of Frankfort, a musician of talent. Michaele was not only possessed of wonderful beauty, but God had blessedher with a glorious voice. She married Rabbi Isaschar SüsskindOppenheimer, also a singer and musician, and together the couple wanderedfrom city to city, and from palace to castle, discoursing sweet melodies. The lady's morals suffered from this vagrant life, and the Jewishcommunity of Frankfort stood aghast at her amours. Jewish women areusually remarkably virtuous, and Michaele's evil reputation was easilyachieved. There was an ugly story concerning the birth of Joseph Süss. In brief, hewas reported to be a love-child; but the dates do not tally, and it iscertain that Rabbi Isaschar accepted the infant as his own. From hismother Joseph Süss inherited marvellous personal beauty, and from bothhis parents his musical gift. From the mother too, if we are to believeall the tales, he received a nature of abnormal, passionate sensuality. At an early age Süss was sent to his relatives in Vienna, the famousbankers Oppenheimer. Here the boy was reared in splendour and refinement, and instructed in the intricacies of banking, usury--in short, infinance. He repaired occasionally to his family in Frankfort, halting onthe road to visit an aged relation in Stuttgart, Frau Widow Hazzim, atwhose house in the Judengasse he made the acquaintance of Wilhelmine vonGrävenitz. Süss matured early, and became, not a musician as he had boasted in hischildhood, but a very capable financier. He fell in with Duke KarlAlexander of Wirtemberg during a sojourn at Wildbad. His Highness soughta secretary and treasurer, and he was immediately captivated by the youngJew's personal beauty, his fascination, his vivid intelligence, andknowledge of business. The Duchess was interested, attracted, anddelighted in Süss's music and the haunting charm of those ancient Hebrewmelodies which his father, Rabbi Isaschar, had taught him. Süss was takeninto his Highness's service, and when Karl Alexander succeeded his cousinEberhard Ludwig in the Dukedom of Wirtemberg, the Jew accompanied hispatron to Ludwigsburg and Stuttgart. He was made Minister of Finance andbecame, in reality, ruler of the court, for the Duke gave over everythingto his trusted favourite. The treasury was exhausted by the Grävenitz'smagnificence, and Süss set to work to replenish the empty chests. It would be too long to recount here the endless money-raising schemeswhich were put in motion by Süss; suffice it to say, that never hadWirtemberg been so squeezed even in the time of Eberhard Ludwig. But ifSüss procured vast sums, he spent them as readily. The festivities atLudwigsburg were more opulently splendid and more numerous than ever, andthe Duke had six mistresses and a favourite to enrich instead of oneLand-despoiler! Süss lived like a prince--and a very lavish prince atthat--and the money, of course, came from the Duke's treasury. NowMichaele's heritage became noticeable; if the Duke had six mistressesSüss had sixty. No woman could resist him; they said he was so gloriouslyhandsome, so witty, so 'differing from the rest of mankind, '--not anoriginal statement from amorous dames! Thus Süss inherited his mother's nature, and together with his unbridledpassion for love came the illimited desire for, and need of, gold. By the first, he incurred the hatred of those men--husbands, brothers, fathers of the women he took for his pleasure; by the second, the undyinganimosity of the oppressed taxpayers. The end came swiftly. Four years ofdebauch and lavish expenditure, and death fell suddenly upon KarlAlexander of Wirtemberg. He died at nine of the clock one evening, andthe next dawn saw Joseph Süss a hunted fugitive. He was caught betweenLudwigsburg and Stuttgart, and immediately thrown into prison. Here helanguished, a prey to terrible anxiety and remorse; his only visitantswere pastors of the Christian religion who tortured him with argument. 'You are a Jew, but you do not even adhere to the damnable tenets of yourvile cult, ' they said. 'I am a man and no coward, and I will not abjure the faith of myfathers, ' he responded. They held out spurious hopes of pardon would heswear to the pure faith of the Crucified, but Süss remained noblyobdurate. Then the Church--she to whom Christ bequeathed His sweetmessage of pardon, of tenderness, and of leniency--deserted the faithfulJew, and the law of human cruelty and punishment took hold of him. He wasaccorded no trial. His sins were as scarlet indeed; besides, he of thedespised race had dared to rule. The name Jew was a stigma in itself, andthis word the people howled round the tumbril which bore the erstwhilegorgeous favourite to a death of ignominy. A few women in the crowdsighed and shed a tear when they saw the godlike beauty of the man, broken to pathetic ruin by adversity, white-haired, vilified, aged by hisdegradation; but chiefly the crowd howled and reviled, and the men spatin the Jew's face and covered him with a load of horse-dung and foulordure. They hung him finally after unspeakable tortures. Then his bodywas left to rot in Stuttgart's market-place in the sight of all. Ahideous carrion dangling in a silver cage, which his judges had caused tobe constructed as a terrible warning to those who would profit by thefavour of princes. Tragic enough in itself, this story of the downfall of a superb ruler andcourtier, the more appalling, when we consider that it was chiefly acruel triumph of race hatred. No unbaptized Jew in German history hasrisen to such official eminence as Joseph Süss Oppenheimer, and there islittle doubt that, had he not been of the race of Israel, even though hehad committed the same crimes, he would not have suffered this fearsomedeath. CHAPTER XXII REST 'Memories that make the heart a tomb. ' THERE is solace to the mourner in the sound of rushing waters; most ofall can the stricken soul find a short oblivion in the ceaseless chant ofthe ocean's mighty surging; and by the tumult of a great river humanunrest is soothed ineffably. At Schaffhausen the Rhine falls in giant cascades, roaring and dashingagainst those rocks which, legend says, Wotan flung into the river in hismighty rage against a poor husbandman who had drowned himself and hislowly wife because her mortal beauty had excited the desire of theamorous wanderer. White, whirling foam, and above a thin, glistening, veil-like mist madeof the myriad drops flung up from the water's impact; but here too theeternal poet, Legend, has wrought a delicate phantasy: this mist he callsthe breath from the lips of the Rhine-maidens who sing for ever beneaththe foam. An enchanted place this Schaffhausen, guarded by the great white Alpswhose pure crests rise in awful majesty to high Heaven. And here it wasthat the Grävenitz dwelt after she left Wirtemberg, and here Time theconsoler healed her bruised heart and her crushed pride. She dwelt in thesmall castle which Zollern had given her and where her marriage withWürben had been solemnised. Her soul rested from pain, but there weretorturing ghosts of the past around her: Eberhard Ludwig, Madame de Ruth, Zollern, her unkind brother, even the fraudulent attorney Schütz, and theridiculous figure of her name-husband, Nepomuk Würben. Yes, all herlife's denizens had vanished. Death or absence had swallowed them; onlyshe, the central figure, remained. She was memory-haunted, who herself was but a memory. Her great healthfulness endured, but sometimes she suffered from strangeswoons. 'It is from the heart, ' said the apothecary whom Maria called in. 'God knows--heart affliction!' said the Grävenitz bitterly, when theytold her of this verdict. Years passed, and still she lingered at Schaffhausen, though she oftenpromised herself to journey to Berlin armed with that 'Letter of RoyalProtection' which Zollern had procured for her from Prussia's first KingFriedrich I. But she shrank from bringing her cause before FriedrichWilhelm I. , the blustering monarch who had played so unexpected a rôle inher life. She accounted him as the destroyer of her happiness, for shebelieved that it was he alone who had influenced Eberhard Ludwig againsther, and had induced him to banish her. Woman-like, she threw the blameof her lover's action entirely upon the adviser. She hankered after her beautiful Freudenthal, and she dreamed ofreturning thither. Deeming herself forgotten, she believed she would besafe in Wirtemberg. Also the fierce torrent of the people's rage had beendiverted to another channel, their hatred sated with their vengeance onanother favourite. Süss Oppenheimer, who had saved her from imprisonment, had paid the penalty of his own crimes; in his expiation he had borne thebrunt, and, for the time, appeased the people's wrath againstfavouritism. Karl Alexander of Wirtemberg was dead, and his son, a child of sometwelve years, was Duke of Wirtemberg. He resided in Stuttgart with hismother, a princess of the House of Thurn and Taxis. Ludwigsburg was deserted, the palace closed; the busy crowd of merchants, clothiers, perruquiers, dressmakers, which had flocked to the new centreof gaiety, had vanished. The Grävenitz had heard that Ludwigsburg waslike a city of the dead, with grass-grown streets and deserted houses. Surely she, who belonged to that forgotten past, was forgotten also? Shelonged to return and once more to view the scenes of her dead glory. Butthe years passed, and she lingered in Switzerland. In 1740 she heard of the death of Friedrich Wilhelm I. Of Prussia, and ofthe accession of his much-tried son--that Friedrich whom the world wasjustly to call Great. A fresh hope sprang up in the Grävenitz's heart. This young man, sonoble, so just, so cultured, would he not give her justice? She wouldjourney to Berlin and present the Letter of Royal Protection; he wouldrecognise her claims, and induce the Wirtemberg government to give herback her Freudenthal. The headman of the canton of Schaffhausen supplied her with the necessarytravelling papers. 'A lady of quality and her serving-maid journeying toBerlin on court business, ' it was certified therein; no mention of thenames of Grävenitz or Würben, which might have awakened dangerousmemories. Once more her way lay through the spring-radiant land. Fate had causedher to wait for the blossom, it was her destiny always to see Wirtembergclothed in the fairest raiment. She journeyed through the smilingvalleys, she passed beside the peaceful Neckar river. Her way led hernear to Rottenburg, and she turned from her road to visit the Neuhaus. Here she found ruin. Madame de Ruth had bequeathed her property toZollern, and while he lived the place had been tended with pious care;but he too was dead, and the Neuhaus had passed to an heir-at-law whoknew not, and if he had known, would not have comprehended, the lovingmemory which caused the dilapidated mansion to be treasured. It is alwaysso; there is no sadder thing than the melancholy of a place, once sacredand beloved, which has fallen into the chill hands of the indifference ofanother generation. The Neuhaus was turned farm: the upper rooms were used as hay-lofts, andin that long, panelled living-room, which had seen Wilhelmine vonGrävenitz's strange marriage, a peasant woman cooked, scolding her broodof children. She stared at the Grävenitz. 'Oh yes! this is my husband's farm. What do you want with me? See thehouse? There is not much to see, ' she said suspiciously. A gulden changedher tone. 'Certainly; look if you like, ' she said, and followed the sad visitantfrom room to room, hands on hips, and shrill voice explaining how therats were so bad in the house that she and her husband would have toleave next month. 'Is there a grave here? a grave surrounded by a stone wall? No? But itwas consecrated ground, it cannot have been destroyed?' The Grävenitzspoke quietly, but she could have wept aloud. Yes, the woman said, there was a bit of walled-off land, but it did notbelong to them. There was a gate, and they had not the key. Perhaps therewas a grave there; the grass grew so high you could not tell. She led hervisitor through the neglected garden which Spring, the glorious gardener, had yet made fair with blossom and the budding lilac. The Grävenitzpeered through the bars of the graveyard gate. Ah, thank God! who sendsSpring to garnish the graves of the forgotten dead! The tombs were hiddenby a fair coronal of waving grasses, and the redthorns above made abaldaquin more beautiful than the work of man's hand. 'Forgotten, yet so peaceful, ' she murmured as she turned away. 'Did you speak, lady?' said the peasant woman; but the Grävenitz shookher head. 'Only to myself; only to myself always now, ' she answered. At Tübingen no one paid heed to the traveller, but she did not venture upto the castle. She might have dared it, for none would have rememberedher, or recognised in the tall, white-haired woman the beautiful youngcourtesan who had held mock court in the ancient university castle. Shelearned that no Duke had resided there for many years, it was entirelygiven up to the students and their grave professors. 'But the state-rooms? I heard that there were fine apartments in thecastle, where princes and their courts held high revel?' she queried ofthe innkeeper. 'Eh! all those are dismantled now, Madame, ' returned the man. Dismantled--the word rang in her ears. Yes; the very scenes of herglorious past were changed. Through the shadowy Tübingen forest she journeyed onwards. She commandedher driver to turn aside before Stuttgart, and thus she passed alongby-roads to Ludwigsburg. The sun was still high in the heavens when she entered thewell-remembered avenue of shady chestnut-trees. Here too Spring had beenbusy, crowning the trees with bloom. A regal decoration for herhome-coming, she thought. At the stately town-gate her coach halted, and for the first time in herlife she paid toll upon entering Ludwigsburg. Her eyes sought themonogram sculptured on the stone gate-pillars: 'E. L. ' entwined ingraceful curves on a rounded shield upheld by playful amorini. How wellshe remembered when Frisoni had brought her the drawings for this device. Would her Excellency wish her chiffre to appear in the design? theItalian had asked, and she had rejected the proposal, she hardly knewwhy. Her coach lumbered down the Ludwigsburg street. It was in a deplorablecondition, and the heavy carriage jolted and swung from side to side. Thehouses which bordered one side of the street were closed and shuttered, and their blank windows seemed like sightless yet imploring eyes gazingtowards the deserted palace gardens. The driver halted. She heard him shouting to one of the rare passers-byin this dead city, 'Where is the inn?' She made a movement forward andwould have called through the window, 'The inn is further down thestreet, ' but she checked herself, remembering that she must betray noknowledge of the town she had created. It was a daring thing, this visit to Wirtemberg. Who could tell if someone might not recognise her and set a howling mob upon her? The law wouldnot interfere with her; she had been pardoned, and was merely passingthrough the country on her journey to Berlin, but some remnant of hatredmight linger in the peasants' memory. When she reached the inn the innkeeper looked hard at his guest. Did herecognise her? she wondered. 'Is this Ludwigsburg?' she asked, feigning ignorance. 'Yes, lady. Whom have I the honour of serving?' She gave some name at random, adding: 'I am travelling from Austria andSwitzerland home to Berlin. ' Then she inquired concerning the palace. Could a stranger visit the gardens? Did the reigning prince reside inthat beautiful palace? and so on, questioning like an inquisitivetraveller. If she wished she could see the whole place, she was told. The newgatekeeper was a very friendly fellow; he would let her into the gardensif she gave him a trifle to purchase a drink of wine. She ordered a mealand pretended to eat, though the food choked her, but she dared not showundue eagerness to visit the palace. At length the dreary subterfugeswere over; she had intimated her intention of passing the night at theinn; she had been shown the guest-chamber; she had pretended to rest, andnow she was free to repair to her sorry sight-seeing without incurringsuspicion. Evening fell over Ludwigsburg, yet the rounded roofs of the palace werestill kissed by the departing sunshine, when she walked up to the gatewaythrough which she had so often driven in ceremonious state surrounded bythe splendid Silver Guard. A squat-figured, broad-faced Wirtembergerstood in the gateway, smoking a huge carved wood pipe of rank tobacco. The blue smoke rose in spirals from the pipe bowl, and the man blewclouds of a browner hue, the delicate blue-grey of the smoke spoiled fromthe admixture of human breath. The man watched the Grävenitz's approach without offering greeting orcomment. 'Are you the gatekeeper?' she asked. 'Yes, that I am, ' he grunted ungraciously. Good Heavens! how she wouldhave had him flogged if he had spoken to her thus twelve years ago! Shelooked at him steadily. 'I am a stranger, and would fain visit this famous palace, ' she said. 'Have you an order from the court? I cannot let strangers enter withoutone, ' he returned gruffly. 'No, I have no order. Will you let me see the gardens, at least?' Heshook his head and continued smoking. 'See, I will give you something for your trouble, but I must see thegardens. ' She held out two golden pieces. 'Take these, and let me enter, 'she said imploringly. The man's manner changed. This must be some great lady if she could payhim in gold when he would have let her in for a few groschen. Well, thesetravellers often had strange fancies; and if it pleased her to pay somuch for so small a thing!--He took the money and moved aside. 'Go in, go in, lady! Shall I come round with you? I have heard tell allabout the old days here: I can show you where Duke Eberhard Ludwig lived, and where the Duke Karl died. I will go fetch the castle keys. ' Sheshuddered. 'No! no! I do not wish to see; I will only walk in the garden. Do notdisturb yourself, ' she said hastily, and passed on. The gatekeeperfollowed her a few steps: 'You can see the gardens of La Favorite, if youwish; you need only walk straight from the north terraces and you willcome to La Favorite, ' he called after her. How strange it was to be thusdirected by a newcomer, told the way, shown what she had planned anddevised yard by yard. She nodded to the man. 'I thank you, I shall findmy way, ' she answered. And now she was free to wander in the past, free to suffer the exquisitepain of memory. She walked slowly on. How the trees had grown! And thelittle lilacs she had planted--they were tall bushes now. The paths weregrass-grown, the water in the basin of the fountain on the south side wascovered with weeds and thick green slime, the large stone vases whichstood round the basin were moss-covered. The lichen hid the medallions onthe vases, the medallions which bore her sculptured portrait. There werethe clumps of rose peonies she had planted--in bud too--she would neversee them flower again. On, through the gardens to the courtyard wheregrass grew between the paving-stones. The palace windows were closed andshuttered. No sound broke the stillness of this deserted dwelling-place. The thought came to her that only herself, a ghost of past glories, andperhaps the sinister spectre of the White Lady, moved about the deadpalace. She passed on. The door of the main entrance on the ground floorof the Corps de Logis stood ajar. Strange that it should be so in thisshut house. She entered; no, it could not matter even if the doors hadstood wide open, for the hall was entirely empty--not a chair or tablefor a thief to drag away! And the well-remembered staircase, leading toEberhard Ludwig's apartments, was boarded up with rough deal planks. The air struck chill and tomblike in the entrance-hall, yet the Grävenitzlingered. Yes; there from the ceiling her own face looked down at her intwo bas-reliefs. In one the face was smiling with half-open, voluptuouslips, and the eyes, a little drooping, told of some delicious thrill ofpassion. Opposite this was the figure of Time, winged and frowning, withhuge scythe-blades in his mighty hands. She shuddered; those relentlessblades had indeed mown down the little day of her love's triumph. Whatdevil had prompted the Italian Frisoni to illustrate this terrible truthupon the very palace built to honour her? Across the entrance-hall she saw another bas-relief, again her face, butserious this time, looking fixedly, gravely upwards--the expression ofone who aspires, of one who would compel Destiny. Facing this was amedallion bearing a ducal crown in the centre, the scroll-work round thismedallion was made of giant thorns, and a peering, mocking satyr's facepeeped out from the thorn wreath. Had the Italian dared to mock her thus? And in the old days she had notnoted the insolent meaning underlying the beautiful designs! How shewould have revenged herself upon the artist! She turned away. After all, the man had spoken truly in his sculpturedallegory: Time, and Change, and Death are more mighty than Love, thanJoy, than Power. She mused on, and unconsciously her wanderings, led byold custom's memory, brought her to the vaulted arcade beside the door ofthe east pavilion where she had dwelt. Here, too, her own face met her inthe bas-reliefs. Graceful designs of musical instruments, emblems of hertaste, and everywhere laughing Cupids held wreathed flowers, violed'amore, harps and lutes around the mistress-musician's voluptuous face. The carven stone held for ever the memory of Eberhard Ludwig's homage inthe beauteous picturing of Love, Laughter, Music--all that she hadwielded with such potency to charm; and she knew that the sneeringartist-architect had hidden everywhere the figure of Time the Avenger;sometimes she had called him the Consoler, but she knew him better now asthe Eternally Pitiless, waiting to reap his harvest--the flowers reapedwith the wheat. Suddenly the full message came to her: 'All things wither, but theremembrance of the sinful light of love is bitter pain, whereas thememory of the pure woman is sweet with children's tears. ' She had readthe words in some book, they smote her now. In an agony of weeping sheleaned her head against the stone picture of Music, Love, and Laughter, and her own young face. 'O God! O God! have I not atoned by pain?' shemoaned. A soft evening breeze came stealing round her. Nature could give noanswer to her fearful questioning, but the gentle Spring wind kissed heron lips and brow. She rose and took her way to the terrace. Here, too, was ruinous neglect--grass-grown paths, moss-covered sculptures, untendedplants. She looked up at the windows of the rooms which had been EberhardLudwig's; they were closed and shuttered. --Dead, everything was dead! She hurried on towards La Favorite, her Château Joyeux. Here again wasruin, and here also her own face met her sculptured everywhere--smiling, young, and indifferent to the ruin. The flowering parterre was untended, but the lilacs and the redthorn-trees made the garden fair. The longSpring twilight faded, night drew near--and the Grävenitz turned away. 'Farewell, ' she said aloud, 'the night comes! Farewell, Spring!' * * * * * That night Maria could not induce her beloved mistress to taste food. 'Iam so weary, Maria, let me rest. I think God will give me sleep, ' shesaid, and the faithful peasant woman left her. In the morning Maria found her resting still. God had given her the GreatSleep. Printed by T. And A. CONSTABLE, Printers to His Majestyat the Edinburgh University Press * * * * * Transcriber's Notes: Obvious punctuation errors repaired. Page 35, "tuggted" changed to "tugged" Page 35, "he" changed to "her" Page 133, "Fraülein" changed to "Fräulein" Page 257, "an" changed to "and"