She had pressed her hand upon her breast, as if to calm its powerful emotion. Her eyes were raised at the count's last word with an expression of fear, and raging hatred; but she could not bear his gaze, and her eyes fell again to the ground.
"Count," she said with a great effort, but in a calm and sharp voice, "you bring strange accusations against me, you speak in the voice of a judge. I do not understand you, nor do I recognize your right."
And exerting all her powers of will, she raised her eyes and gazed firmly into the count's face.
He drew himself to his full height, and stepping close up to her, and raising his hand, he said in a low voice which vibrated through the room:
"I do not speak from suspicion, I bring an accusation against you which it would be easy for me to prove; I speak as a judge, because if I would, I might be your judge, Antonia von Steinfeld."
She gazed at him with horror, all her composure left her; and broken down she sank into a chair.
"I might," proceeded the count, "be the judge of that unnatural daughter who forsook her old sick mother, a worthy lady who had educated her, by making great sacrifices, to follow the adventurous life of an actress, who stole her mother's last treasure, the title-deeds of her small estate, and whilst she lived in wild dissipation left that unhappy mother, who would not face the shame and publicity of bringing her to justice, to suffer from want, until sorrow broke her heart. I might be the judge of the worthless creature who sank deeper and deeper, until she was punished for a fresh robbery, upon a young man whom she had ensnared, by two years' imprisonment; who then as an actress travelled through most of the little towns of Bohemia and Galicia, until she succeeded in finding a man but little better than herself, who gave her his name, and placed her in a position that enabled her to continue on a large scale the course she had before commenced. I might be the judge of the murderess who planned in cold blood a horrible death for a pure and innocent girl. Do you think, wretch!" he added--and his voice sounded like distant thunder--"do you think it would cost me more than a word to strip the false spangled veil from the hideousness of your past life and give you up to the abhorrence and scorn of the world? Do you think," he cried, standing close before her, with flashing eyes, "that it would burden my conscience, by a drop of surer poison than that you placed in the veins of an innocent creature, to free the world from your sin-laden existence?"
As the count spoke, the young woman had sunk down lower and lower; as he ended she lay at his feet, her eyes stared at him as at some supernatural appearance, horror and hopeless anguish were depicted in her face.
The abbé looked with a mixture of pity and abhorrence at the broken-down creature.
The count gazed at her in silence.
"Thank God," he then said, "that the object of your murderous hate was saved by my hand, or my hand would have slain you without mercy. Try," he said after a short silence, during which, panting, and with anguish in her eyes, she had hung on his lips, "try to gain heaven's forgiveness, use the gifts nature has given you, and which you have hitherto misused in sin, in the holy service of God and his Church. You shall serve me as a tool; and for the sake of the cause to which you shall be dedicated, perhaps it may be possible for you to gain forgiveness of the past."
She looked at him enquiringly; life and hope returned to her face.
"I demand no promises from you, I shall see what you do, and whether your obedience stands the test,--remember that even when I am far away, my eyes will be upon you, that my hand can always reach you, and that vengeance will fall upon your head if you deviate one hair's breadth from the path which I lay down for you. I shall free you from every chain that fetters you here, you shall be free in my service, to use your powers under my direction; but once more: Take heed not to follow your own way, it will lead you to hopeless destruction."
She rose slowly and stood before him, with downcast eyes, her hands crossed upon her breast; it was hard to say what was in her mind, but her features expressed only deep humility and submission.
The count looked at her for a moment in silence.
"I have spoken," he said; "I shall not warn, but punish, if my words are forgotten."
She bent her head in silence.
Then the solemn earnestness vanished from his face, and his features resumed their usual easy repose.
"Is Herr Balzer at home?" he asked.
"I think so," she replied in a low voice; "he asked to see me a short time ago."
"I wish to speak to him," said the count.
She bowed in silence and left the room.
"What a scene!" cried the young abbé, shuddering, "and what a dreadful woman!"
The count looked thoughtfully before him.
"Do you believe," asked the abbé, "that she will heed your warning? that she will repent and amend?"
"I do not know," said the count calmly, "we must hope her heart may at last be opened to grace, in that case she would be an instrument of priceless worth."
"What are your views?" asked the young priest with surprise.
The count slowly placed himself in an arm-chair and signed to the abbé to seat himself beside him.
"My young friend," he said in a grave mild voice, "you belong to the Holy League, you are a soldier of the Church militant, you have genius, courage, and faith; you are called to labour with me in the erection of God's kingdom upon earth, to build up the temple of promise, upon the rock of St. Peter; I tell you a great battle, a great work, is before you, a work upon a new foundation."
He was silent--lost in thought.
"What we have done hitherto has crumbled to pieces," he said after a time; "a new phase begins--Austria has denied the very ground-work of her existence, she has denied the Church, upon whose soil the empire has grown up; through which alone it could have been maintained, and guided safely through the future. The first step upon this path will swiftly be followed by others, according to the merciless law of logical consequences; we must strike Austria out of our reckoning. Whether we can rely upon France is not clear to me, it might appear so from the first glance, but the present government of France affords no guarantee, a hellish power prevails there, and this power has been the first to lay hands upon the ancient and holy rights of the Church. I see," he continued, as if lost in the contemplation of the picture presented to his mind, "the world forming itself anew. I see the German nation slowly arising to supreme eminence. Is it the will of Providence that the realm of Germany, once the foremost backslider, shall now be the firm foundation-stone of the kingdom of God? The future will show," he said after a pause, "but we must be upon the watch, we must regard these new times with a sharp glance, that we may lay the foundation of our power, and be able to guide events with a firm hand. What we may have to do does not yet appear,--here at leastnothingcan be done, here are only ruins tottering to their fall. I am going to Paris," he added, raising his head, "that is the centre of coming events, there we shall discover the threads which will bind the world. You will accompany me?" he asked, half as a question, half as a command.
The abbé bowed.
"I am prepared," he replied, "to follow your guidance, and it fills me with joy and pride to labour under such a master."
"I shall take this woman with me," said the count, "I shall free her from her present connexion, and place her in a position where her eminent talents may be developed: she will, now that she knows she is in my power, do us great service."
The abbé looked amazed.
"This woman?" he said; "ought we to defile our holy cause with such a tool?"
The count fixed his large expressive eyes firmly upon the young priest.
"Are you then assailed by that doubt of weak souls," he said slowly, "who desire the end, but fear to use the means?"
"Can sin serve heaven?" asked the abbé with hesitation.
The count rose, and spoke in a tone of firm and full conviction.
"Does not the tempest-flash, that slays and burns the huts of poverty, serve the eternal councils of God? are not all the destructive powers of nature wonderful instruments in the hand of God? This is the almighty power of God, that the evil should serve the good, and lead to a good end. Even that great German poet who did not belong to the faith, painted his devil more truly and more rightly than the world believes; as a power who wills evil, yet must do good! Well," he cried, "we desire to be soldiers of the Church militant, we wish to overcome her enemies, and to help on the triumph of the Cross; and shall we like cowards shrink back before the devil? Shall we acknowledge and fear his power? No, we must have strength in ourselves to compel the hellish powers of darkness to the service of heaven; that is the true victory over sin; not the victory of the fearful schoolboy, who flies, that he may not be overcome, but the victory of our Master and our Lord, who in the name of God subdued the fallen angels, and fought against the powers of the world."
"Forgive me," said the abbé in a tone of doubt, "but is it not presumption in us, who are but weak sinful creatures, to try to govern the powers of darkness as the hand of Almighty God does, and can? may we not become their prey, whilst we think we rule them?"
The count looked at him severely, almost angrily.
"The world," he said, "fights against us with every means she possesses, she loves to choose the best and sharpest weapons; shall we pursue our holy war unequally armed, and thus prepare for ourselves certainty of defeat? No! a thousand times No! our hand must bear the sharpest and the surest weapons, sharper and surer than our enemies'! The sword slays," he added, "and it is written: 'Thou shalt not kill!' Yet behold the thousands who wear the sword and spend their lives in learning most scientifically the art of slaying! Why are they not condemned, these armies? Why are they crowned with laurels, when they return victorious after slaying thousands and thousands of innocent men? Because they draw their swords to serve a good and a true principle, to defend their hearths, to defend the glory and the greatness of their country. And their country belongs to this world, belongs to this fleeting earth! Yet shall we hesitate to draw the sword in defence of our spiritual home? in defence of the glory, the power, and the greatness of the eternal country of the human race, the invisible, most holy kingdom of God? Truly, my young friend, those who for the things of this world draw the sword, and shed the blood of their fellow-men, have no right to fetter us in the choice of the weapons with which we strive for the eternal and imperishable good. But it is above all our enemies who would place only blunt weapons in our hands, that their victory may be certain; and if they succeed in casting doubts into our souls, the battle is gained beforehand. Banish doubt from your heart, strengthen your soul, or your hand will bear the sword for the warring Church of Christ in vain!"
The abbé bowed his head.
"Forgive the hesitation of a youthful heart," he said in a low voice, "I will wrestle and pray that I may be girded with the strong panoply of faithful obedience."
The count looked at him kindly.
"Pray to God," he said, "that your heart may be nerved and steeled, without having to pass through the pain and despair mine suffered before it attained to calm firmness and clear conviction."
He stepped closer to him, and laid his hand upon his shoulder.
"I too," he said in a gentle voice, "was young like yourself, I was cheerful and happy as you are, I had a wife whom my soul adored, I had a daughter two years old whose pure eyes seemed to me a greeting from heaven. I was a surgeon in Rome, my hand was skilful, riches streamed down upon me. I loved all mankind, when I put my arm around my wife and held my sweet child upon my knee. To help all who were suffering was my most holy endeavour, my thank-offering for all the happiness that God had bestowed upon me. And I had a brother," he added, with a dreamy look, searching amongst the memories of the past; "I loved him from his tenderest childhood, I was older than he, and I had formed his mind, and educated his heart. He was a disciple of the noble art of painting, that fair flower of my lovely country, and I saw with pride the creations of his pencil, in which the breath of genius lived, and which approached nearer and nearer to the great works of the ancients. It was a good and happy time. My brother wished to try his pencil on the highest and holiest subject art can create, the divinely blessed Virgin with the Child Jesus. My wife sat to him as a model, my child upon her lap was to represent the Divine Child. Was it a sin, a presumptuous crime? The great Raphael had painted the forms of earthly women for his madonnas, and yet the wonderful spirit of divinity had enlightened his eyes. I rejoiced, and was happy in the thought that by the hand of my brother all that I loved on earth might be united to do God service. I was absent long hours in the exercise of my profession," he continued in a gloomy voice, "and one day when I returned, they had vanished! My brother had tempted my wife away, or she him, I know not which--I know nothing except that they were gone, and that they had taken my innocent child with them, that her pure eyes might bring me no comfort in my loneliness!"
He said the last words lower and lower, his eyes seemed far away, his features trembled with painful emotion.
He sank down into an arm-chair as if exhausted, the abbé looked at him with much sympathy.
"It is long since I have spoken of this," said the count after a moment, in a calm and melancholy voice, "since I have probed my wound with words. You see," he said, with an indescribably sad smile, "the wound is not yet healed.--All my inquiries were in vain," he then proceeded; "I could find no trace of the fugitives. Shall I describe my feelings? It would be hard to find human language to express them. I despaired of God, my soul revolted wildly against heaven; I wished to put an end to my life, and only a slight hope of recovering my child, my poor, innocent child, made me delay my resolution from day to day. I abhorred mankind, I withheld the help of my knowledge from the sick, from the dying; I rejoiced with cold malice when fathers died, when children were torn from their parents, whilst an operation from my skilful hand would have saved them. I hated and despised governments and communities; could their laws, and their institutions, punish or prevent such crimes as had been committed against me? If I could have destroyed the whole human race with one word, I would have spoken that word with a scornful smile, and have reduced every living creature to eternal nothingness! Oh! my young friend," he said, with a heavy sigh, "those were frightful days and nights that I passed through; my spirit went down into hell, and I felt what seethes and ferments in its depths! In my breast its horrible, yelling voices resounded; I, too, pronounced that 'No' against the decrees of the Creator, against the God of mercy and of love! An old worthy priest, a valiant warrior of the Church, came to me; he forced himself upon me, and the fiery rays of his eloquence aroused an angry tempest in the midnight of my soul, every fibre of my being shuddered. But after the storm came light. I learned from my wise teacher and guide, that no decree of government or of society, however well-founded, however wise, can banish sin. That power belongs to the Holy Church alone, that community ordained of God, and when at last she possesses the world in her all-powerful grasp, sin will be vanquished, and crime will vanish from the earth. I learned to know that there is no higher, no holier calling than this, to strive that all things may be committed to the power of the Church, that the work of our Saviour's redemption may be completed, that the blood of Christ may flow down upon all mankind; there is no prouder, no more glorious deed possible, than to compel sin itself to the service of heaven. But," he continued, and his eyes glowed with energy and indomitable will, "I also saw the frightful weapons of the Church's foes, and I learnt that victory can only be obtained by seizing with a firm, relentless hand all the weapons of the will and the mind; above all, by grasping with an iron hand all the evil powers of the sinful world, and compelling them to serve the Holy Cause, by an annihilating warfare against each other. I dedicated my life to the cause of the Church militant, and God strengthened my heart and enlightened my mind, and he gave me power over men to guide the threads of their fate. I have often held a fearful and demoniacal power; but my good angel has not failed me, the hellish power has served heaven, as the gigantic power of steam obeys the pressure of the human hand. And ought I to hesitate and doubt," he cried passionately, "in the choice of the weapons whereby the victory, the great and holy victory, may be won? ought I to throw away the power I have gained over the enemy, and make myself and the cause I serve the laughing-stock of the world? Oh! I fear not the powers of hell, this hand is strong enough to bend them to my will, and in the name of God to compel the evil ones to work his good pleasure!"
The abbé looked with admiration at the count's perfect and animated face.
"Forgive me, my master," he said humbly, "if I doubted; and do not withdraw your strong hand from me, to guide and to support."
The count held out his hand.
"Your powers, too, will be steeled in the battle," he said, "but never forget that though man, the weak and sinful creature, may venture to wield these weapons, only he has a right to seize them who renounces all, that he may live and die an instrument to increase the glory of God!"
The door opened, Herr Balzer entered.
He saluted the count with his usual vulgar familiarity, and the shameless confidence habitual to him.
The count responded by a proud inclination of the head, and looked at him coldly.
"You wished to speak to me, count," said Herr Balzer, "how can I serve you?"
"I hope our conversation will be short," replied the count, "I have a proposal to make to you which you will accept, as it will free you from a very bad position."
Herr Balzer was alarmed at the severe, decided tone in which the count spoke to him. His confidence seemed to give way a little.
"A proposal?" he said with surprise; then he added with a vulgar laugh, "I always like to hear proposals, especially if acceptable."
"I wish your wife to be perfectly free," said the count shortly.
"That will be a little difficult!" cried Herr Balzer with a look of satisfaction, "a separation--she must turn Protestant, and the scandal----"
"She would be free--as a widow," said the count.
Herr Balzer sprang backwards from the speaker.
He looked round anxiously, then he gazed into the count's calm face, and said, with a constrained smile:
"You jest, sir?"
"Certainly not," said the count; "you will have the goodness to listen to me quietly and without interruption, and I do not doubt that you will perfectly agree with me."
Herr Balzer seemed not to know what he thought of this strange calm man, but he bent his head as an intimation that he was willing to hear.
In the simplest way in the world the count proceeded:
"Your affairs, sir, are in a desperate state; you are not only a bankrupt, but you have almost from the commencement of your financial existence only concealed your old debts by incurring larger ones, a course which necessarily would bring you to complete ruin in the end."
Herr Balzer looked at the count in great surprise.
"The moment of unavoidable ruin has come," he said, "I am in possession of a number of demands upon you, which if presented must infallibly overthrow your credit. Beside this, your position is most unhappily compromised, since you have, to save yourself, or rather to stave off the time of inevitable ruin, pursued the plan of forging various bills of exchange."
"Count," cried Herr Balzer in a voice whose impudence ill concealed his fear, "I----"
With a proud movement the count imposed silence.
He drew from his pocket several bills of exchange.
"You see," he said, turning them over, "the forged bills are in my hands, a prison will be your destination if I give these into the hands of a magistrate."
Every trace of self-confidence had disappeared from Herr Balzer's common-looking face. "With bewildered fear he looked at the count without speaking a word.
"You are a lost man," he said coldly, "and if you have a spark of honour left, you will prefer death to the future before you."
Herr Balzer raised his hands in speechless agony, as if imploring the count for mercy.
He looked at him severely and proceeded:
"I will not, however, destroy you, I will give you the opportunity of beginning a new life."
A ray of joy shone in the exchange-agent's eyes; he did not yet understand, but he began to hope.
"Count," he cried, "command----"
"Hear first what I demand; upon your implicit obedience your future will depend."
Herr Balzer listened anxiously.
"You will go at once to Gmünden," said the count, "from thence you will write a letter to your wife, in which you will say that you cannot bear the disgrace of bankruptcy, and that you prefer death; you will then take care that your hat, your stick, and a glove or pocket-handkerchief are found floating on the water, where the lake is the deepest. After this is accomplished, you will cut off your beard, put on a wig, and go to Salzburg, where at this address a certain person will provide you with a passport and the sum of five thousand gulden."
He gave Herr Balzer a card with some writing upon it.
"You will then," he continued, "proceed to Hamburg, and embark in the first ship for New York, and there you will go to those who will be pointed out to you by the person in Salzburg. They will give you every information, and assist you in commencing a new life, if you forget your name and the past. Remember that you are watched, and that you will be destroyed if you are not perfectly obedient!"
Herr Balzer's face had at first only expressed utter amazement, then a look of scorn and wicked satisfaction passed over his features, finally he gazed thoughtfully before him.
"Do you accept my proposals of safety?" asked the count.
"And my bills of exchange?" asked Balzer, looking ashamed.
"I have bought them, they will stay in my pocketbook," replied the count.
"I accept," said Herr Balzer, "you shall be satisfied with me. But," he added, with an extremely repulsive smile, "five thousand gulden is not much--you value my wife at very little."
"You shall receive the same sum when you arrive in New York," said the count coldly, "if you obey me implicitly."
"I will go," said Herr Balzer. "May I not," he added with a look of grief that was badly acted, "bid my wife farewell?"
"No," replied the count, "she shall believe you are really dead, that is my express will; she shall be free, even in her conscience."
Herr Balzer turned to go.
"I shall expect news of you from Salzburg in three days!" said the count. "And now," he added solemnly and earnestly, "thank heaven, and make use of the mercy that offers you a new life!"
He held out his hand to him, and mildness and kindness shone in his eyes.
Herr Balzer bowed and left the room.
"We are now ready," said the count, as soon as he was alone with the abbé; "be prepared to start in a week's time."
The large and extensive Castle of Schönbrunn is beautifully situated, it is surrounded by an enormous and ancient park with artistically arranged ruins, with allegorical fountains, with deep shady groves, and sunny level lawns; behind the castle, airily perched on the summit of the height, is the triumphal arch called the Gloriette, from whence the great Empress Maria Theresa could behold Vienna, which with the lofty tower of St. Stephen appears upon the horizon.
Near to this imperial residence, full of remembrances of the Empress Queen and of Napoleon I., (whose eagles may still be seen upon the two obelisks at the principal entrance,) and around the spacious park, lies pretty Hietzing, that favourite summer retreat of the Viennese. Villa adjoins villa, and in the beautiful summer afternoons all the fashionable world of Vienna streams out to hear the concerts in the large gardens of the "Neue Welt," or of "Dommayer's Casino," and to walk in the shady alleys of the park of Schönbrunn, which is always open to the public.
Since the time when Napoleon I. fixed his head-quarters in Maria Theresa's favourite residence, and caused the "old guard" to parade in the spacious court of the castle, Hietzing had not been so animated or so full as in the autumn of 1866.
The Saxon army was encamped in and around Hietzing; King John inhabited the Stöckl, that small palace at the entrance of the park which Maria Theresa had built for her celebrated physician van Swieten; and the King of Hanover, who on his first arrival in Vienna had resided at the house of his ambassador, General von Knesebeck, had now retired to the Duke of Brunswick's villa at the farther end of the pretty village, from which it was separated by a long high wall, which concealed the wonderful art treasures and whimsical arrangements in the park and the interior of the house.
The Saxon troops, the suites of the two princes, the equipages of the arch-dukes and of the Austrian aristocracy, who vied with each other in attentions to the kings who were now suffering from the effects of the Austrian policy, filled the streets of Hietzing in a varied and brilliant manner; the inhabitants of Vienna streamed out more numerously than ever, and if anyone had cause to be satisfied with the catastrophe of 1866 it was certainly the possessors of the "Neue Welt," and "Dommayer's Casino."
One morning in that remarkable and eventful time, two persons met in the large central salon of the Brunswick villa.
The walls of this apartment were hung with Chinese tapestry, the embroidered figures of the inhabitants of that great empire, with faces exactly resembling those painted on their china, looked down complacently from the walls, the whole of the furniture was of costly Chinese work, life-sized pagodas stood in the corners, Chinese mats of the finest rice-straw covered the floors; the large glass doors were open and let the mild air blow in from the well-kept park. All the curiosities in this salon, which gave it rather the appearance of a museum than of a dwelling-room, did not attract one look from the two men who paced up and down, with sad and mournful faces.
One of these persons was Count Alfred Wedel, whom we met with before in Hanover during the catastrophe of the month of June. He wore his undress court uniform, a blue coat with a scarlet collar; beside him was a small and delicate-looking man of about thirty-six years of age, with thin fair hair and a long light moustache; his features expressed great energy, and quick lively intelligence. He wore the uniform of a captain of infantry in the Hanoverian army.
"Yes, my dear Düring," said Count Wedel, in a melancholy voice, "all is over,--Hanover exists no more,--you are the last man who waved our banner; would to God," he added with a sigh, "that our generals had been as energetic as you were, it would have been better for us."
"I cannot indeed understand," said Captain von Düring, "how everything happened; I have only been able to follow the campaign from vague reports; but I can comprehend neither the military nor the political operations!"
"Who can understand them?" cried Count Wedel with bitterness, "least of all, I believe, those who conceived them."
"Do you believe the annexation of Hanover will really take place?" asked von Düring.
"I believe it is certain," said Count Wedel; "the expressions used by the Prussian magistrates in Hanover leave us in no doubt about it, it is no use ignoring the sad fact; but," he said, "we are called!"
A bell sounded from the adjoining room.
A moment afterwards the king's groom of the chambers appeared.
"His majesty requests you, gentlemen, to go to him."
He opened the door into the king's cabinet.
Count Wedel and Captain von Düring entered.
The cabinet that George V. inhabited was hung with silken tartan, beautiful specimens of Scotch weapons, and masterly paintings representing scenes from Sir Walter Scott's novels, adorned the walls. Before a large table in the midst of the room stood the king; his beautiful, expressive countenance was very sad. He wore the loose grey overcoat belonging to the uniform of his Austrian regiment.
"God bless you, gentlemen," said King George with a gracious smile, as he held out his hand, which Count Wedel and Captain von Düring pressed to their lips; "much has happened since we parted, my dear Alfred."
"Your majesty," said Count Wedel in a trembling voice, "whatever has happened, or whatever may happen, my heart remains ever the same."
"You bring me news of the queen?" asked the king.
"Certainly, your majesty," replied the count, producing several letters and handing them to the king; "a letter from her majesty, notes from the princesses, and a report from Herr von Malortie upon your private estates."
The king laid the letters before him on the table.
"How is the queen?" he asked, "how does she bear these sorrowful times?"
"Her majesty is calm and dignified," said the count, "but very unhappy, the queen desires most earnestly to join your majesty as soon as possible."
A deep shadow passed over the king's brow.
"Whether God will bring us together again," he said, "lies in the dark womb of the future; at present the queen must remain where she is, and represent the government; such is my will."
Count Wedel was silent.
"How is the countess?" asked the king.
"I thank your majesty, she is arranging the house, and will soon follow me."
"Follow you?" asked King George.
"Your majesty," said Count Wedel with emotion, "I have not come to bring you intelligence and to return. I have come to remain, if you do not send me away!"
The king looked at him inquiringly.
"Your majesty," said the count, "from all I see and hear, you will not return, at least not for a long time, to Hanover. Your majesty made me your chamberlain, and I have performed my duty about your person with pride. Your majesty is now in exile," he continued, his voice almost failing him: "I beg for the great honour of sharing your exile, and retaining my office!"
The king was silent for a moment. He slightly bit his moustache, a sorrowful expression appeared on his face.
"My dear Alfred," he then said in a gentle voice, "you have just built a house and newly furnished it. The countess is delicate, I am sure of your faithfulness and devotion, but you must think of your family. You would make too great a sacrifice; leave my service and this court,--the court of banishment," he said sadly, "to those who are alone in life, and have only themselves to think of."
"Your majesty," cried Count Wedel hastily, interrupting the king, "you will hurt me much if you do not accept my service, if you forbid me the honour of standing beside you in misfortune; I shall not leave you," he added with blunt frankness, "and if you do not allow me to be your chamberlain, at least I will be the courtier of misfortune."
A joyful smile passed over the king's face.
"Misfortune has its charms," he said, "it teaches us to know our true friends. We will speak more of this hereafter. And now, my dear Captain von Düring," he said, turning towards him, "I have heard of your wonderful march, tell me about it, I wish to hear how you found it possible to wave the banner of Hanover to the very end, after I had been forced to lower it," he added, with a sorrowful sigh.
"Your majesty," said Captain von Düring, "I was at Emden with my company, an overwhelming force of the enemy desired me to capitulate, I declared that I would rather be buried beneath the ruins of the town than lay down my arms; they then granted me a free retreat. I withdrew," he continued, "with my company towards Holland. A large number of young men from every district joined me. I procured a number of passports partly by persuasion, partly from a list of pass formularies, I filled them in and distributed them amongst my soldiers. They had to pack up their arms and their uniform and thus they took them with them to the Hague. Here I found your majesty's resident minister, Count George Platen."
"An excellent young man!" cried the king.
"A true servant of your majesty, full of energy and zeal," said Captain Düring; "I received from him a hearty reception and the warmest support. Here I heard of the battle of Langensalza, and we celebrated the victory with the greatest joy, for we were then convinced that the army had cut its way through to the south."
"It ought to have done so!" said the king gloomily.
"We considered," proceeded Captain von Düring, "how it was possible for my company to reach the army,--there was but one way, through France--"
"Through France!" cried the king.
"Yes, your majesty," said Captain von Düring, "it was a risk but I ventured it. We got into the railway train as simple passengers, and happily we all succeeded in avoiding the notice of the French authorities, and in detached parties by the roundabout way of Thionville, Metz, and Karlsruhe, we reached Frankfort. The order, prudence, and punctuality of the soldiers was exemplary."
"What a marvellous march!" said the king.
"In Frankfort," continued Captain von Düring, "I applied to the president of the Confederation, who supplied me with means for purchasing fresh uniforms for my soldiers; the Duke of Nassau gave us arms, a committee of the citizens provided us with linen and other equipments, and in a fortnight I had 350 men armed and ready for the field. I made the best non-commissioned officers into officers, and we were about to join the garrison of Mayence, there to educate my quickly organized troops by active service. In Frankfort I heard of the capitulation of Langensalza,--forgive me, your majesty, I cannot understand it."
"I was surrounded by superior forces," said the king, "I could not uselessly sacrifice my troops to certain destruction."
"I perfectly understand thatyour majestywas forced thus to act," said Captain von Düring, "but I do not understand the operations that placed the army in such a position."
The king was silent.
"The capitulation did not affect me," continued Captain von Düring, "it only concerned the army actually at Langensalza, and I had received no intelligence, no commands. I remained under arms until the end."
He then added in a low sad voice:
"When all was at an end I disbanded my corps and sent my soldiers back to their homes, but I came here to announce myself to your majesty, and to report to you my useless attempts."
"Not useless, my dear Captain von Düring," said the king kindly, "you could no longer obtain victory for my cause, circumstances made that impossible, but under the greatest difficulties, to the very bounds of possibility, you did your duty, and you set all the officers of my army a fine example, that cannot be lost."
The king was silent for a moment.
"What are your views for the future?" he then asked.
"Your majesty," said Captain von Düring sadly, "I will not enter the Prussian service; they want officers in Turkey, so does the Viceroy of Egypt. I know Eastern affairs from the permission your majesty gave me to serve for two years with the French army in Algeria, I think of seeking a career in the East."
"Will you stay with me?" he then asked.
"Your majesty," cried Captain von Düring, "my wishes are nothing, you have but to command,--it would be my greatest happiness; yet," he added with some hesitation, "I must tell your majesty plainly, that idleness is contrary to my whole nature."
"You shall not be unemployed, my dear Düring," said the king, proudly raising his head. "I have every intention of again obtaining my inheritance, and when the political situation permits the attempt I shall require men capable of forming an army, and of leading it."
Captain von Düring's face brightened.
"Your majesty," he cried, "I can only lay my sword, my life, and my future at the feet of my king."
"I appoint you my equerry," said the king, "remain here, you shall do no court duty," he added, laughing. "Au revoir, I shall expect you to dinner at five o'clock."
Captain von Düring bowed low.
"I cannot express to your majesty the gratitude I feel," he said; "may I have the opportunity of proving it by my deeds!"
And he left the cabinet.
"Has your majesty any commands for me?" asked Count Wedel.
"Did the queen give you no commission to me?" asked the king in a penetrating voice.
"Commission?" said the count, "no, only to deliver the letters which I have had the honour of presenting to your majesty, but--"
"But?" asked the king anxiously.
"I perceived," said the count, "that the queen ardently wishes your majesty could follow the advice given you by so many well-wishers, and--"
"And that I should abdicate?" said the king passionately.
"Her majesty believes that thus the crown would be preserved in the royal family," said the count, "and she regrets that your majesty does not seize upon this sad and deplorable means of safety; the queen thinks you might still be in time; but that your majesty is withheld by those around you."
"And what do you think? I wish to hear your honest opinion," asked King George.
"Your majesty," said Count Wedel slowly, "is convinced of my entire devotion to your person; but since you ask the question, I must reply uprightly and honestly, that if by your majesty's abdication the crown could be saved for the house of Guelph--"
"Ifit could!" said the king earnestly.
He came a few steps nearer, feeling his way with his hand, and seized the count's arm.
"I wish," he said, "that this point should be perfectly plain to you; for no accusation could pain me more, than that I had sacrificed the future of my family to my personal inclinations. I do not know by whom, or with what views the queen and the country have been told that my abdication would preserve the independence of Hanover, and prevent her annexation to Prussia; that it is only with me that Prussia refuses to conclude peace; I will not try to discover what motives have induced various persons to speak in this manner."
"Counts Münster, Windthorst," said Count Wedel, "they certainly hope to be all-powerful ministers under the rule of the crown prince."
"No matter who it is," proceeded the king; "I can understand how the queen, how several of the most important members of my family, may credit these assurances; only it hurts me to think that they can believe I should not long ago have seized upon this means of saving the crown, if it would have saved it. When this opinion was urged upon me from every side; when the queen telegraphed begging me to abdicate," continued the king more slowly, "I determined to take a step which should make my duty upon this point plain. If my abdication could preserve my crown for my descendants," he said with emphasis, "it was my duty to abdicate, if not, it was my duty to refuse all such propositions. I sent the minister for education, von Hodenburg, who was here, to Berlin, to ask Count Bismarck plainly, whether my abdication would preserve the crown for my son."
"Ah!" exclaimed Count Wedel.
"Late one evening," added the king, "Herr von Hodenburg had a long interview with Count Bismarck. He declared with a candour and honesty that did him honour, that the incorporation of Hanover was quite resolved upon, that for the interests and the safety of Prussia the step was absolutely necessary, and that my abdication would not affect it in the least. Hodenburg told the count that the people of Hanover would greatly resent an incorporation with Prussia, and that it would create endless difficulties; the count replied that he knew well it would be so, but that he could not be in error in doing what he believed to be his duty towards his king and his country. But," he said, interrupting himself, "this is only hearsay; through Lex, I will give you Herr von Hodenburg's report, read it all through, it is very interesting; but, you now know the answer I received to my direct question,--tell me, what do you think?"
"Your majesty is right,--right a thousand times," cried Count Wedel; "I see afresh how easy it is to judge falsely when you do not know all the circumstances."
The groom of the chambers opened both the folding doors and exclaimed:
"His majesty the King of Saxony!"
King George took the count's arm. Supported by his chamberlain he walked quickly through the Chinese anteroom.
At the further door of this apartment appeared the somewhat bent and slender form of King John, with his sharply-cut profile, his bright eyes full of genius, and his grey hair. Behind him walked his equerry, Colonel von Thielau. The king wore the uniform of a Saxon general. He hastened to meet King George and seized his hand. Count Wedel stepped back.
King George took the King of Saxony's arm, and guided by him returned to his cabinet. The groom of the chambers shut the doors.
King John led the King of Hanover to the chair before his table, and drew forward one of the arm-chairs standing near for himself. They both seated themselves.
"I wished to come to you at once," said the King of Saxony, "to tell you that the foundations of my peace with Prussia were concluded."
"You will then return?" asked King George.
"Not yet," replied the King of Saxony, "the completion of the conditions requires some time, and the troops cannot return until all the new arrangements are definitely made."
"And you are satisfied?" asked the King of Hanover.
King John sighed.
"I am satisfied," he said, "thus far,--Saxony will not be taken from my family; for the rest, the cause for which I fought is defeated,--the vanquished must accept their fate."
"My fate too is that of the vanquished," said King George in a sad voice.
The King of Saxony seized his hand, in great emotion.
"Believe me," he said affectionately, "that no one feels for you more deeply, more heartily than I do; but," he added, "believe me also when I say, that as far as my personal feelings go, I would far rather be in your position than in my own. Rather, far rather would I abandon public life, withdraw into seclusion, and devote the remainder of my days to philosophy and the arts, than begin life afresh under new and strange, oppressive and humiliating conditions."
King George bowed his head with a sorrowful look.
"And," added King John passionately, "Germany will be divided; instead of one united, federal Germany, we shall be split into two warring halves. Oh!" he cried, "for Germany, for her greatness and her power, I would make any sacrifice; but will the end be reached by this path?"
And thoughtfully he gazed before him.
"What do the Saxons themselves say to this new state of affairs? will it not create great difficulties?" asked the King of Hanover.
"The Saxon people, as well as myself, will have to go through many sorrowful experiences," replied King John gravely; "but when I have once signed my name beneath the Treaty of Peace, my word must be respected and held sacred under all circumstances, and my people will support me. I have but one wish," he added, with a deep sigh, "that the painful sacrifices I make may give to Germany unity and greatness."
"Germany will not in this way attain to real safety, or to true greatness!" cried the King of Hanover.
King John was silent.
"I must give up my minister von Beust," he said after a pause.
"Do they demand this at Berlin?" asked the King of Hanover.
"Not exactly, but it comes almost to the same thing; besides, his position would be almost an impossible one. I am sorry, for his talents would have assisted me greatly in the difficulties arising from the new arrangements. Perhaps," continued the king, "a wider field will be opened to his genius. The emperor gave me an intimation from which it appears the idea has occurred to him of employing Beust, instead of Mensdorff, who neither can nor will remain in office."
"Herr von Beust here in Austria?" exclaimed the king in great surprise.
"Yes," said the King of Saxony thoughtfully, "he would meet with difficulties; the Archduke Albert and the Archduchess Sophia feel a great repugnance to the plan; it is, of course, a matter of profound secrecy during the present uncertain state of affairs."
"Certainly," said King George. "What does Beust think he can do with Austria? he is taking a difficult position, the more difficult from the many inimical elements he would have to encounter at home."
"One important element he thinks he can overcome, and reconcile to the House of Hapsburg: Hungary, who has so long been discontented, will find it impossible to continue her displeasure, as he will at once restore to her the self-government she demands."
"Remove the centre of gravity to Pesth," said King George with some bitterness, "as Bismarck advised."
"A second centre of gravity will remain in Vienna," returned the King of Saxony, "and the balance of power between the two will create the future strength of Austria."
"But the Church," asked the King of Hanover, "will she regard Beust favourably?"
"I avoid speaking upon Church questions," said King John gravely, "happily, from the constitution of Saxony, I have never been placed in the painful position of deciding between political necessity and my religions convictions. Have you good news of the queen?" he said, changing the subject.
"I thank you," replied King George, "she is as well as painful circumstances permit."
"I admire her heroic courage and her dignified bearing," said the King of Saxony; after a short pause he added--
"Shall you remain here, or go to England?"
"To England?" cried King George, "to England, who moved not a finger to assist me, or to defend the country that had given her a glorious race of kings, the country whose sons had shed their blood in England's wars? No! I will remain here, here in the house my cousin has so kindly placed at my disposal. Here, at least, I am upon Guelphic soil," he tapped his foot on the ground, "here I will remain until the tide of misfortune turns."
"You believe a change is possible in our present fate?" asked King John with some surprise.
"I do believe it," said the King of Hanover firmly.
"But," said King John, "we shall embarrass Austria, about whose power we were so much deceived, if we stay here; our position will be painful."
"Here in quiet Hietzing," replied King George, "I shall not embarrass the political world of Vienna, though perhaps," he added with dignity, "I may be a living reminiscence of duties that cannot be stripped off."
The King of Saxony stood up. King George also rose.
"I expect my son," said King John, "he will pay his respects to you."
"I shall be delighted to see the crown prince," said King George.
The King of Saxony pressed the King of Hanover's hand,--he rang, the folding doors were thrown open, and arm in arm the two princes walked through the reception room. King George accompanied his guest to the door of the house, and then returned, guided by Count Wedel who had followed him, to his cabinet.
Count Platen and Herr Meding had in the meantime arrived in the ante-room.
The groom of the chambers announced them to the king.
"Call the crown prince and the privy councillor," said King George.
After a few minutes Prince Ernest Augustus and Herr Lex entered the king's cabinet, Count Platen and Herr Meding followed them. At a sign from the king they all seated themselves around the table.
The king began in a grave voice:
"The incorporation of Hanover with Prussia is determined upon irrevocably; I am in a great difficulty, gentlemen, and I wish to hear your advice. As you are aware, the English government has offered to mediate for the recovery of the property belonging to my family; it has also expressed a wish that my army should be released from its oath of fealty, by which means the negotiations as to my property would be made much easier. My personal inclination prompts me simply to decline the negotiations, and to await a change in our unhappy fortunes; but this is a question which concerns not only the interests of my family, but those of many of my officers. What do you think ought to be done, Count Platen?"
"Your majesty," replied the count, bowing slightly, "my opinion is that your present position requires as much money as possible, for the means at your disposal are very limited. If then, as I believe is the case, the Prussian government sets great value upon the release of the army from its oath, much may be gained by your consent. I think your majesty cannot hesitate to engage in negotiations; nevertheless, the oath of fealty must not be released until a favourable result is gained."
"Above all things," said the crown prince, "our family domains and the hunting grounds must be preserved."
"And what do you think?" said the king, turning his head towards Meding, with marked attention.
"Your majesty," he replied, "I am quite of the opinion that you must enter upon these negotiations, yet I do not share the views either of his royal highness the crown prince or of Count Platen. From what your majesty has always firmly expressed, I believe you will not accept the fate that war has brought upon Hanover, but that you will make every effort in your power to recover your rights."
"That I will," cried the king, slightly striking the table with his hand; "should my exile endure twenty or thirty years, I will never cease to struggle for my rights!"
"Your majesty is perfectly justified in this resolution," said Meding. "War has been declared against you, and no peace concluded with you. Your majesty is a recognized enemy, and you can act accordingly; but you must then expect the other side to proceed in a similar way. For us, your majesty's servants, duty is clearly defined. Since your majesty has willed to continue the struggle, all our opinions must be governed by this determination. The possession of domains in the kingdom of Hanover would make you completely dependent upon the Prussian government. Every landowner, in concluding arrangements, must recognize almost daily the authority of the present possessors of the country. All this does not accord with the attitude your majesty desires to maintain. Besides--forgive me, your majesty, but I cannot forget a maxim taught me by my great master in politics, Herr von Manteuffel----"
"A Prussian maxim," said the crown prince, laughing.
"Your royal highness," replied Meding gravely, "the maxims I learnt and followed in the Prussian service, I will never deny. From following these maxims implicitly, I have now the honour of standing beside my king in his misfortunes. Circumstances,--my love and my duty to my royal master,--may make me the enemy of the land of my birth, but deny and scoff at it I never will."
The crown prince was silent.
"You are perfectly right," cried the king energetically. "You would be no true servant to me if you denied your former masters. Well, then, Herr von Manteuffel--?"
"Herr von Manteuffel," continued Meding, "used to say, 'A good general thinks first of a retreat.' In the struggle which your majesty undertakes, I think anxiously of a retreat; and it appears to me unworthy of the Guelphs to continue to be landowners in the country where they wore the crown. An independent capital will be the basis of obtaining fresh possessions in a country which, after the loss of the throne of Hanover, opens a great and glorious future to princes of the house of Guelph--in England."
"But shall we then give up all the possessions of our family, so full of remembrances?" cried the crown prince.
"If his majesty recovers the crown of Hanover," said Meding, "he will also recover possession of the royal domains; if not, these remembrances can only be painful. I certainly believe, too," he added, "that Prussia will grant no domains without an express recognition of her sovereignty."
The king was thoughtfully silent.
"Your majesty," said Count Platen, "the remarks of Herr Meding are certainly worthy of attention. But the wish of his royal highness is also very right. We might reconcile these views, and demand a portion of your possessions in the domains--say a third part, especially in the capital."
"That would place the whole negotiation on a difficult basis, and draw it out to a tremendous length," said Meding.
"Let us seize this method of escaping from the difficulty," said the king. "What do you think, my dear Lex?"
"I am quite of Count Platen's opinion," he replied.
Meding was silent.
"You still have some idea?" said the king, turning to him.
"Your majesty," said Meding, "my second and most serious remark is upon the connection Count Platen is inclined to establish between the property and the release of the oath of fealty. Such a connection may be advantageous. I think, however, it would compromise your majesty's dignity."
The king raised his head proudly.
"You forestall me," he cried vehemently. "Never, never shall the fate of my officers, of my true and brave army, depend upon the estates of my family. I desire that the two questions should be kept completely apart, and that this should be made perfectly clear to the English government. With regard to the army," he added, after a pause, "my decision is made. I will never release the army from its oath, but I will give them permission to leave the service. I shall never blame any of my officers who are compelled by circumstances to use this permission; but I will not free those who can and will remain. I will send military commissioners to Berlin, that they may obtain the most favourable terms they can for these officers who refuse to enter the Prussian service. Draw out instructions in this spirit, gentlemen, and lay them before me. Above all things, however, avoid mixing up my private affairs with the fate of the army. It will be needful," he added, after some consideration, "to draw up a protest against the incorporation of Hanover, and to have it ready to send to all the European courts, as soon as the annexation is proclaimed. We must also draw up a plan for diligent and energetic action in the struggle for the recovery of my rights."
"I have already employed the minister of legation, Lumé de Luine, in drawing up this protest in the French language," said Count Platen. "The facts may be found in the memorial upon the Hanoverian policy already prepared. As to our activity," he continued, "it can only be exercised at present in causing internal agitations in the country, and in keeping up a sharp observation upon European politics. The only chance of regaining the crown of Hanover lies in the goodwill and support of those powers who may possibly go to war with Prussia."
"I certainly think, your majesty," said Meding, "that the plan of our future operations, though it cannot be definitely drawn up at the present moment, should be framed on larger principles, and founded on a broader basis. As to agitations in Hanover itself, they must be conducted with great prudence, lest we should urge our unhappy country to destruction, from which we should have no power to save her. The point of support appears to me to lie elsewhere. The restoration of your majesty's rights and of the crown of Hanover will only be possible if those principles which are now defeated, namely, the federative unity of Germany, and the self-government and independence of its various races, renew the war, and are victorious. This, however, can only take place if the monarchical principle joins the spirit of progress--the democracy."
"You would restore the king to the throne by democracy?" cried Count Platen.
"His majesty's restoration is only possible," replied Meding, "through the support of the true spirit of pure democracy: not of that democracy that drags everything high and noble down into the filthy mud of the masses, but that democracy which, uniting with the spirit of progress and development now abroad, elevates the people more and more, and excites their sympathy and interest in public affairs. Permit me, your majesty," he continued after a short pause, "to express myself more plainly. Simple legitimacy, however sacred and venerable to me, is no longer a power in public life, it no longer moves the feelings of the people, it no longer influences the politics of the cabinet. Monarchy, if she wishes her rule, so wise, so beneficial, sanctioned by the right of centuries, to endure through the developments of the future, must progress with the living movement around her, must espouse herself to freedom. The foundations of her right must be upon the ancient soil, established upon the granite rock, the growth of centuries; but upon this soil the fruits of freedom must ripen. Thus only can monarchy gain permanence and recognition in the future. This is the case throughout the whole world. But in Germany, in addition to the universal love of freedom, there is the love of individual government, and the desire to preserve the various races distinct. These two principles, both forcible powers, will rise against what has just taken place, as soon as the present development is fully understood. The first result of recent events will be a great diminution of freedom and individual government. If, then, a change in the present state of affairs is ever brought about, it will be caused by the spirit of the German nation revolting against the oppression of forced military centralization. If your majesty would strive successfully, you must make yourself and Hanover the incorporation of the German national principles; you must draw around you all those elements which move the nation's noblest feelings; you must fight against temporal weapons with spiritual weapons. Should a moment come when a storm assails the unfinished edifice of to-day, then must your majesty raise the national banner, and call upon the German people to fight for federative government and for freedom. Though, however, our work must be chiefly mental, it is also needful to prepare for actual war, not by agitations and demonstrations, but by careful organization. The cadres of the army must be formed and ready, the threads that guide the policy of Europe must be carefully watched, that your majesty may choose the right moment for action, and also influence the course of events as much as possible. I am convinced that agitations and demonstrations alone would be objectless and useless, and complete devotion to the policy of any cabinet highly dangerous, for your majesty would never wish to regain your crown through the Emperor of Austria, nor Napoleon III. Perfect independence of action, both mental and material, is needful. We must endeavour to gain the sympathy of all the European cabinets, but we must be dependent on none. In independence alone lies your majesty's hope of success even should certain circumstances arise, not utterly beyond the bounds of possibility, permitting you to conclude a favourable peace with the enemy. Without independence and a firm alliance with the mental needs of the German nation, all your majesty's efforts would be vain, they would compromise your dignity, and," he added, in a low but firm voice, "you would find no organ for them."
There was a moment's silence.
"In one word," continued Meding, "your majesty must undertake the combat with weapons that are sharp and powerful, but at the same time noble and dignified, that even our enemies may respect us; then even should all be in vain, the house of Guelph after the records of a thousand years may have this inscribed in history:--They fell, they did not sink. I have only sketched out the outlines of what I conceive should be the course of our future work. I must, however, state I am ready to recall anything at your majesty's command."
"Such a work would cost a great deal of money," said the crown prince.
"A great deal may be done with moderate means, your royal highness," replied Meding, "as I know by experience; nevertheless, when we play for crowns, we must not narrowly count the stakes."
The king raised his head.
"I quite agree with you, my dear Meding," he said, "that legitimate right should unite with freedom, with real and wholesome freedom; I truly do not fear the influence of the mind, and it shall not fail either my work, or my will. We will speak of these things again, I desire to consider them more closely."
"It would certainly be advantageous to enter into relations with the leaders of the people," said Count Platen, "and Herr Meding might enter into negotiations of a personal nature: your majesty should retain the power of disavowing them if needful."
Meding replied with some animation:
"When negotiations are carried on between two governments every diplomatist must be prepared beforehand to have his proposals disavowed under certain conditions, but should I negotiate with the people, at the first disavowal, my honour and convictions would impel me to take their side, and make their cause my own. But," he said, turning to the king, with a bow, "I know that this would never occur in your majesty's service."
The king drew out his repeater.
"It is time to dine," he said, "all the gentlemen will have arrived already. Prepare the instructions, and we will then form our plan of action."
He rose. All present also stood up. Count Platen, Lex, and Meding left the cabinet and returned to the Chinese salon.
Here the king's guests had already assembled. Besides the equerries on duty, Field-Marshal von Rorschach, Prince Hermann von Solms and Captain von Düring were present.
Count Wedel had resumed his duties and carried the chamberlain's staff.
Baron Reischach was talking to Prince Hermann.
"How proud our good prince is," he said goodnaturedly, "at having smelt powder for the first time! Yes, yes," he said, with a sigh, "those were happy days, they will never return,--an old cripple like myself will never again hear the cannon's music."
"But to look at you," said the prince, "so fresh, so rosy, one can hardly believe those times were long ago, were it not for the white hair we should take you for a young man."
"The ladies of Vienna call my head a sugared strawberry," said the general, laughing, "but the fruit tempts them no longer, the days of war and love are over for me, but my old heart keeps young, and rejoices that my dear young prince should have fought so bravely."
And the old general patted the prince on the shoulder.
Count Platen entered and greeted General von Reischach.
"What news do you bring us from Vienna?"
"Very little," said the general, shrugging his shoulders, "yet stay, a half countryman of yours, a native of Mecklenburg, is about to carry off one of our fairest young ladies."
"Whom?" asked Count Platen.
"Baron Stielow will marry the young Countess Frankenstein in a fortnight."
"Ah!" said Count Platen, "Herr von Stielow, one of Gablenz's staff?"
"The same."
"He is converted, I hear," said Prince Hermann.
"Through love of his bride," replied the general, "and from gratitude for her recovery from a severe illness; she was hurt in nursing the wounded, and suffered from poisoning of the blood. They will travel for some time after the wedding."