No one would ever have known of that scene, for it was Bose's policy always to keep his tongue behind his teeth, had not the weary King gathered a few of his companions together, that he might find distraction in their conversation. After drinking a second and a third bumper, the King began to laugh and look towards Fürstenberg.
"What a pity," said he, "that you did not bring those papers this morning, instead of Bose; perhaps you would have made it up with Cosel had you seen her as that old man had the good fortune to do."
"But the Countess has not yet left her bed," returned the Prince.
"She sprang from her bed, though, to tear the letter poor Henriette had sent me, from my hand. She is so jealous, that I should not be surprised if one day she were to shoot me."
Fürstenberg looked round cautiously, that he might be sure that only those who hated Cosel were present, then he said,--
"Your Majesty, if the Countess Cosel is so jealous, she should be careful to give you no cause for jealousy."
The King slowly raised his head, frowned, thrust out his lips, and replied coldly,--
"The person who dares to make such assertions should weigh his words well, and carefully consider the consequences. You must explain yourself."
The Prince glanced round at his companions.
"I am ready to justify my words. All of us here present have seen how the Countess conducted herself during your Majesty's absence. The palace was always full of guests and admirers, amongst whom the Count Lecherenne enjoyed especial favour. Sometimes he was seen leaving the palace about midnight."
The King listened with apparent indifference, but those who knew him well, could see that the dart had stung him.
"It is the voice of jealousy speaking through you," said Augustus. "You do not like Cosel, and you would be glad to see her shut up in one room. Naturally she longed for my return, and required some distraction, and you must allow that Lecherenne is amusing."
"Your Majesty," said the Prince, with well-feigned simplicity, "I had no intention to be an informer. I enjoy your Majesty's favour, and I do not care much about that of the Countess. But, being your Majesty's devoted servant, I should be deeply grieved to see your great love repaid with ingratitude."
Augustus looked gloomy. The wine cups were full, but no one raised one to his lips; the conversation stopped, and the King rose.
Fürstenberg understood that he had gone too far. Whenever Augustus wished to get rid of a favourite, he was glad to hear something against her. His anger on the present occasion was a proof that as yet Cosel was not an object of indifference to him.
Not wishing to talk any more, Augustus nodded to his guests, and retired to his chamber.
Fürstenberg and the other courtiers regarded each other sorrowfully--they feared the consequences of such a bold attack.
But an unseen witness had overheard the conversation; this was none other than Zaklika, whom Countess Cosel had sent with a letter to the King. Wearying of her solitude, she had written to the King, begging him to come and see her, and had sent the faithful youth with the message. No one save Zaklika was allowed to enter the room while the King was merrymaking; unseen, he had entered the room, and stood behind the great side-board, waiting until the conversation was ended to deliver his letter. Thus he had overheard everything. The danger threatening Anna gave him sufficient courage to leave the room without handing the King the letter; he rushed back to his mistress's palace, and tapped at the door of her chamber. She had just risen for the first time. The moment he entered, she knew by his pale face that something had happened.
"Speak!" she exclaimed. "Has something happened to the King?"
"No," replied Zaklika, and then he repeated all that he had heard.
Cosel listened, blushing, confused and offended; when he had finished, she took the letter from him, and signed to him to withdraw. She left her chamber and entered the drawing-room, the walls of which were covered with pictures representing scenes in the life of the King. One of them was a picture of the King's coronation.
As Cosel was gazing on it, her eyes filled with tears, steps were heard approaching--it was Augustus. He walked quickly, and looked pale and angry.
As though she had not noticed his entrance, Anna rose and approached the picture.
"Well," said he angrily, "so you condescend to look at my portrait? Surely it is a mistake? I cannot believe that I still receive such honour."
"Your Majesty," replied Anna calmly, "it would be ridiculous to suppose, that, being aware of all that makes you superior to other men, any one else should attract my glance after you. The most frivolous woman would be incapable of doing so. How could your Majesty have such suspicions?"
"Yes," interrupted the King with trembling voice, "until to-day I flattered myself, I thought--but appearances are deceiving, and the caprices of a woman are in most cases difficult to understand."
The King's angry tones rejoiced Anna, for she was sure his jealousy meant that he still loved her, but she pretended to be offended.
"I do not understand your Majesty," she said. "Will your Majesty please to speak clearly, so that I may have a chance of justifying myself?"
"To justify," interrupted the King passionately, "there are some deeds that cannot be justified. You wish to deceive me, but I have proofs."
"Proofs against me!" exclaimed the Countess, wringing her hands. "Augustus! You torture me! Speak! I am innocent."
She threw her arms round his neck; he tried to push her away, but she grasped his hand and began to weep.
"Have mercy upon me! Speak! Let me at least know why I suffer. Who has dared to slander me?"
It took quite a long time to pacify the King, but her tears softened him, and he made her seat herself beside him.
"Very well, then," said he, "I will tell you everything. Fürstenberg told me that the whole city was scandalized at your conduct towards Lecherenne, whom you received every day, during my absence; he used to spend whole evenings with you."
Cosel put on the air of an offended woman.
"Yes," she replied, "it is all true, Lecherenne is in love with me, but I laugh at him. He amused me with his love, but I do not think I sinned in listening to him. Your Majesty is mistaken in thinking that it is enough for any one to be in love with me, to have my love in return. But it is dreadful," continued she, wringing her hands again, "to think that such a person as Fürstenberg can shake your Majesty's faith in my love."
She sank back on the sofa, weeping bitterly. The King was completely disarmed; kneeling before her, he began to kiss her.
"Cosel, forgive me," he pleaded, "I should not be jealous, if I did not love you. Fürstenberg is the most poisonous snake at my court. Forgive me! but I do not like your being even suspected."
Anna continued to weep.
"Sire," said she, sobbing, "remember that if you do not punish the slanderers, they will soon attack your own person, which is so sacred to us."
"Be content," replied the King. "I give you my word that I will not suffer any one to slander you, my dearest."
Thus the scene ended. Cosel was obliged to promise that she would not let Fürstenberg know that she had learned of the accusation he had made against her.
Thanks to Zaklika, Cosel was victorious.
The pacified King returned to his castle, but throughout the next day he did not speak a word to Fürstenberg. The Grand Master of the court, Augustus Lecherenne, received an order to leave Dresden within twenty-four hours.
This was such an unexpected blow to the young Count, that he was unable to believe the tidings. He rushed immediately to see Countess Cosel. When Zaklika went to announce his arrival to her, she blushed from fear and uneasiness.
"Tell him," said she calmly, "that I cannot receive those whom the King has banished--tell him, also," added she, lowering her voice, "that I am sorry he has to go."
Saying this, she pulled from her finger a diamond ring that had been given her by the King.
"Give him this ring from me," she whispered, turning her eyes away from the faithful servant.
Zaklika turned pale.
"Countess," he ventured to say, in a muffled voice, "kindly excuse me, but this ring is from the King."
Cosel, who could not brook the slightest contradiction, turned towards him with a threatening glance and frowning brow.
"I do not ask you for advice, I give you an order and you have to execute it," said she.
Zaklika left the room, confused; he waited for a few moments behind the door. A few years back, a Bohemian noble had given him a costly ring, similar to the one he now held, as a reward for his great strength. Some presentiment caused him to change the rings; he gave his own to Count Lecherenne, and hid the ring the Countess had given him, close to his heart.
A few days later, the King entered Cosel's room while she was dressing. As it was always her custom to wear that ring, the jealous lover immediately noticed its absence.
"Where is my ring?" he asked.
Cosel began to search for it, while the King's face grew crimson.
"Where is it?" he repeated.
Cosel turned to her servant.
"I have not noticed it on your finger for four days," whispered the maid.
Augustus counted the days. It was exactly four days since Count Lecherenne had left Dresden, and had gone to the palace to take leave of Cosel, a fact of which the King had been duly informed.
"Do not waste time searching for it," said he ironically, "I can tell you where it is."
Cosel looked confused. The King broke forth in fury. He did not wish to hear any explanation. The servants rushed out terrified, for the King's voice resounded loudly throughout the palace. Fear took possession of every one.
Cosel was just ready to faint, when a knock was heard at the door, and, looking up, she saw the pale, sad face of Zaklika.
"I beg to be excused for entering," said he, "but the servants have informed me that they cannot find the ring, which about an hour since I picked up on the floor, and which I was only waiting for a proper opportunity to return."
The King glanced at the ring, and was silent.
Cosel did not even look at Zaklika, she said not a word to Augustus, but, placing the ring slowly on her finger, she cast an angry glance at her lover, and walked into another room.
That was quite sufficient to calm the King, and make him seek her pardon on his knees. He remained the whole day at the palace, thereby hindering Cosel from summoning Zaklika, and demanding an explanation.
It was almost midnight when the King retired to his cabinet, where his ministers were awaiting him. The King had barely quitted the palace, before Cosel rang the bell, and ordered the servant to send Zaklika to her.
As was his wont, the faithful Raymond was sitting in the ante-room, reading a half-torn book. On seeing the servant he shivered. He had saved Cosel, but he knew his action would be regarded as a sin. Tremblingly he entered the lady's room. Cosel, beautiful as a goddess, and proud as an absolute sovereign, was pacing up and down the room. She frowned on seeing Zaklika, and stood before him threateningly.
"Who gave you permission to alter my orders?" she inquired.
Zaklika stood for a few moments with his eyes drooped, then, raising them towards the Countess's face, he replied,--
"I am guilty, Madam. You remember Laubegast, and the devotion with which I gazed on you from afar. This sentiment, cherished until now, explains everything to you. I desired to save you."
"I require help from no one!" exclaimed Cosel severely. "I required you to obey me, that is all, and I despise the sentiments of a servant! They are offensive to me."
Zaklika's head drooped.
"Who told you that I cared more about your helping me to get out of trouble than I did about Count Lecherenne not receiving the ring?"
"The Count received the ring," replied Zaklika, although he suffered dreadfully at receiving such hard words.
"What ring?" demanded Cosel.
"One similar to yours. I had received one from Count Starenberg, and I gave it to the Count!"
Cosel was astonished.
"You deserve some reward," she whispered.
"Not a reward, but forgiveness," said Zaklika. "I could not accept a reward."
He retreated towards the door, and stood leaning against it. Cosel watched him for some time. Evidently some change had come over her sentiments, but pride prevailed.
She approached Zaklika, and handed him the ring that had been intended for Lecherenne.
Then Raymond woke, as from a dream, and seeing the ring in her white hand, he said,--
"I cannot accept it! It would always remind me that you were cruel to me."
The ring disappeared, and instead, the white hand approached Zaklika's lips.
He kissed it rapturously, and then rushed from the room like a madman, and Countess Cosel was left alone, thoughtful, and with tears in her beautiful dark eyes.
"It is thus that poor men love," said she to herself. "Kings are different."
All this time the Swedes were still in Saxony. Charles XII. was heartless and sardonic towards the King; severe towards the nobility; and a grievous burden to the country, for his soldiers went about catching men and enrolling them in the Swedish army. The treaty of peace had been signed, but Charles XII. would not leave Saxony.
So many humiliations, so many sacrifices, exhausted the patience of all, and caused despair in every heart. The arrogance of the Swedish monarch, who rode through the country attended by twenty or forty soldiers, disgusted every one.
One morning, when the King was busy presiding over a council of his ministers, Count Schulenberg was announced. The old man was invited to take part in the council, but he had no desire to speak, and begged a private audience.
When they were alone, the King inquired,--
"General, do you bring me the good tidings that the Swedes are going to leave us?"
"I am sorry that I cannot bring your Majesty such good tidings. But there might be a way of getting rid of them."
"The only way I know of would be if Heaven sent us its army, with the archangel Michael at its head."
"Your Majesty," interrupted Schulenberg, "I am sure that with a little desperate courage we could rid ourselves of them, without the help of the angels. There are twenty thousand Swedes scattered throughout Saxony; it is but a mere handful, that one man's daring renders terrible. Let us catch him, and the rest have lost their value."
"How can you say that? Catch him during peace, when he trusts us?"
"That is what makes our vengeance possible," replied Schulenberg. "I have reconnoitred his quarters. They are very badly guarded. I could attack them during the night, and seize him. I will convey him to Königstein; if they besiege me, I shall not surrender. Then the King's head will answer for my safety, and he will sign the treaty, as we wish it to be signed."
Augustus listened attentively.
"Suppose you should not succeed?" he asked.
"In that case, the blame will fall on me, and not on your Majesty," replied the General. "I desire to save my country from the invaders."
"General," said the King, "I think you are dreaming. You know that I respect knightly customs, and I cannot consent to your plans--I cannot! I hate him, I should like to strangle him if I could get him into my hands, but I cannot allow him to be attacked during the night. General, this is not a business for Augustus the Strong!"
Schulenberg looked at him gloomily.
"Have they always acted in a knightly fashion towards your Majesty?"
"Ruffians such as they can do what they please; they are barbarians. But Augustus, whom people call the Strong, and whom monarchs style the Magnificent, will not stoop to employ such means."
The old soldier twisted his moustache, and saluted.
"But suppose some insubordinate soldier were to do it?" he asked.
"I should be obliged to defend my enemy, and to release him," exclaimed Augustus.
"That is very noble and knightly," said Schulenberg sarcastically, "but--"
He did not finish, but saluted respectfully.
The King took his hand.
"My dear General, give up that idea, and do not say another word about it. I do not wish for victory at such a cost."
Schulenberg looked at him with his pale blue eyes, as though he would ask whether the imprisonment of Imhoff and Pfingstein, and the surrender of Patkul, about which Augustus had not hesitated, were nobler deeds than this. The King must have understood the mute reproach, for he blushed. After a moment of sad silence, Schulenberg said,--
"We must try and get out of this difficulty by some act of despair. We must risk our lives. We have nothing else to lose. We have lost a crown that has cost us millions; the other is almost broken--what can happen further?"
"What can happen?" said Augustus. "The arrogant youth will go further. A few victories have given him a mad boldness, and he will be crushed in some crazy enterprise for which he has not properly calculated his strength. Why should we stain our name by trying to hasten that which must most surely come to pass? Why should we not bear our adversity patiently, so that in the end we may profit by that which some one else has accomplished?"
"But in the meantime, Saxony suffers dreadfully," said the General.
"Yes, the poor people suffer," exclaimed the King. "But the people are like the grass that is trodden down by the cattle; it is greener the next year."
"But they are people," said Schulenberg.
"The crowd should not be taken into consideration," rejoined the King.
Silence followed, and the General took his leave. When he was gone, the King threw himself into a chair, and was soon deep in thought.
After the surrender of Patkul his chivalrous sentiment was at the least very peculiar.
Charles XII.'s defiant wanderings through Saxony had given Cosel the idea of seizing him, and thus avenging the humiliations of her oppressed country. It was she who had suggested the idea to Schulenberg. She did not mention it to the King first, for she was sure he would not listen to her plans. She therefore was obliged to plot alone. She gained Flemming over to her side, and although he disliked the favourite, he nevertheless promised to aid her patriotic plan. Schulenberg promised it the support of his cavalry.
Cosel declared that once the deed was accomplished, although Augustus might be indignant at first, he would soon be obliged to give way. Still Schulenberg was commissioned to find out what Augustus would think of such a scheme.
Although he said not a word to any one on leaving the King's presence, they could see by his face that the plan had been rejected.
But in spite of this, Cosel was not discouraged. She felt strong enough to fight the King himself.
Augustus had no secrets from her, and the same evening he told her of his conversation with Schulenberg. Hearing which, the Countess exclaimed,--
"What? Your Majesty does not wish to avenge his wrongs?"
"Let us talk no more of the matter," said the King, frowning.
Seeing it was not a good time to press the subject, Cosel turned the conversation, and told him all the court gossip.
For a long time she had been urging the King to take her to see the alchemist. Bottiger was at this time shut up in a tower of the castle, but although kept in perpetual imprisonment, he was always treated with the respect due to a man from whom gold is expected.
Fürstenberg was for ever persuading the King that their object would soon be accomplished, and he was always at work with the prisoner, either in his own laboratory or in that of the alchemist. Bottiger's lodging was very comfortable, almost magnificent. He had a garden filled with flowers, and there were plenty of silver dishes on his table, at which he frequently entertained his numerous guests. Seeing he could not possibly escape, he succeeded in making Fürstenberg believe that he was seriously thinking of how to manufacture gold. He exhausted all his formulas, read all the books on alchemy,--but every effort proved fruitless.
Knowing the great influence Cosel possessed, the prisoner sought to gain her favour, sending her every day the most beautiful flowers from his garden.
The Countess was anxious to see him--the King postponed the visit. But that day she was so persistent, so tender, and, at the same time, so beautiful, that Augustus rose, and offering her his arm, said,--
"Come, let us go and see Bottiger."
There was no one at hand who could be sent to announce the King's visit, but, chancing to look through the window, Augustus saw Frölich the fool, who was trying to rid himself of the courtiers, who were bent on teasing him.
The King called him.
"A most suitable messenger," said he to Cosel. "I will send him on before us, so as to give the alchemist a chance of dressing decently; and also to make sure that we do not find him in improper company."
Bottiger, whose good graces were considered most important, received even the fair sex.
Frölich appeared on the threshold.
"I appoint you my chamberlain until the evening," said the King, laughing, "so you must not say that you carry the key in vain. Go and tell Bottiger that the goddess Diana will visit him to-day."
"In company with Apollo," added Cosel.
Frölich went out with much gravity, and proceeded by way of the balcony to the corner tower.
A gay company was assembled round the alchemist's table that day. Glasses and witty sayings were circulating freely. Amongst the guests were Prince Fürstenberg, Secretary Nehmitz, and an ardent admirer of alchemy, Tschirahaussen. The thick walls of the tower were covered with silk brocade, brightened by many mirrors, and enriched by gilded furniture and bronzes. A small staircase connected this room with the laboratory beneath, and with the sleeping room above.
Bottiger was distinguished among his guests by his beautiful figure and merry face, on which intelligence and wit were plainly visible. He was carefully dressed, and looked more like a nobleman than a man who was shut up in prison and obliged to wither over crucibles. He was a most jovial companion at the dinner-table, a most eloquent wit in society. The company was just drinking his health, and the apothecary was ready to respond to the toast, when the King's ambassador, with his pointed hat, and this day a red swallow-tail coat, appeared on the threshold.
"Ah! Frölich," exclaimed the party.
"What do you want?" inquired Bottiger.
"I am not a common Frölich to-day," replied the fool gravely. "It has pleased His Majesty to appoint me as his chamberlain for four-and-twenty hours, and in fulfilment of my duties I am come to announce to you that Diana, accompanied by Apollo, will honour Herr Bottiger with a visit.Dixi!"
He rapped with his stick. All the guests sprang to their feet. Bottiger and Nehmitz began to clear the table. The window was thrown open, and a servant despatched for fresh flowers. The guests disappeared by the side balconies, for they knew that the king would come by way of the back balcony. The alchemist, Fürstenburg, and Nehmitz alone remained to greet them.
The furniture was hastily placed in proper order, the floor was strewn with flowers, and Bottiger stood on the threshold with a bouquet.
Soon the room was brightened by the arrival of Cosel in the full splendour of her beauty. The prisoner knelt.
"We always receive a goddess kneeling," said he, "and the best sacrifice we can offer her is scented flowers."
Cosel smilingly accepted the flowers her host offered, and then looked around inquisitively, wondering that there was not the least indication of the great work that was in progress.
The King followed her, and explained that they were not in the laboratory.
"But I should like to see that mysterious sanctuary," said she.
"Madam," replied Bottiger, "it is such a fearful den, the air is so unhealthy, and the aspect so sad, that a goddess should not descend into such a hell."
"But woman's curiosity!" sighed Cosel, and looked at Augustus. The King looked at Fürstenberg; but the Prince only shrugged his shoulders.
"The Countess is not accustomed to such dark stairs," added the alchemist.
But Cosel replied,--
"The goddess commands, guide us!"
Saying this, she turned towards the door; but Bottiger pressed a button in the opposite wall, and immediately a secret door flew open, and beside this the alchemist stood, candelabra in his hand.
Augustus offered no opposition, and they all descended the dark, narrow stairs, and entered a room, the walls of which were black with smoke. Against its thick walls were several stoves, on which stood cold retorts and crucibles; there were several articles of furniture of strange shapes, and a number of bottles and jars. On the tables lay large folios with brass clasps, rolls of parchment, and various kinds of tools.
The apartment had such a strange, gloomy, and mysterious aspect that it frightened the Countess, who was leaning on the King's arm.
Having raised the light, Bottiger stood silently watching them. Augustus looked round the laboratory that contained such wonderful hopes with a certain degree of respect. Suddenly he advanced to the table, and his gaze rested on an object that lay among the papers.
It was a cup of the colour of jasper. The King, who was a great admirer of china, thought it a product of Japan.
"Bottiger," he exclaimed, "that looks like Japanese china, although it is of a different shape to theirs."
"Your Majesty," replied the host, bowing reverently, "that is my plaything. I tried to make china from the lime they brought me wherewith to make gold."
The King took the cup, examined it carefully, and then held it against the light.
"You say you made this?"
Bottiger bent down and picked up several fragments, then from beneath the papers he drew forth several saucers, which he handed to the King and Cosel.
"Why, it is the most beautiful china in the world!" exclaimed Augustus.
Bottiger was silent.
"You are truly a discoverer! You have found out a wonderful secret! For God's sake, make porcelain for me! I paid fifty thousand thalers for one Chinese service. The Prussian robbed me; he took away a company of my best-looking soldiers: you can make porcelain, and you say nothing about it!"
"It was only an experiment."
"A most successful experiment! Bottiger, you shall make the first service for Diana!"
Seeing the King's enthusiasm, Fürstenberg and Nehmitz both approached to look at the wonderful discovery, but the Prince was dissatisfied, for he feared the alchemist would neglect the gold for the porcelain.
The King rejoiced more over this discovery than he would have done had he been told that the Swedes had left Saxony. He took the cup, and, after again expressing his great satisfaction, turned towards the door. To save the King and Cosel the trouble of ascending the narrow stairs, Bottiger opened the door that led directly into his garden, from whence they returned to the back balcony.
That was a memorable day in the history of Saxony, which in Bottiger's accidental discovery of an art which had long been kept secret under pain of death, had indeed gained a veritable gold mine.
A few days later, news of a more dramatic character shocked the whole of Dresden. Although Schulenberg had given up all idea of seizing the person of Charles XII., the more daring Cosel, assisted by Flemming, had not the slightest intention of relinquishing it. Every day, the King of Sweden gave them an opportunity of carrying out their bold plan; but the number of persons necessary for its satisfactory accomplishment was lacking.
On September 1st, the same day on which he and the Emperor signed the ratification of the treaty granting freedom to Protestants, Charles XII. left Altrandstadt. He journeyed towards the North, following his army, which, under the command of Rhenskyold, had begun to leave Saxony for Silesia and Poland. The greater part had already left Saxony, but a few regiments still remained at Leipzic.
By September 6th, Charles had reached Oberan, near Meissen. It was such a beautiful day that he went out riding; as they ascended a hill, one of his followers directed his attention to the spires of the Dresden churches.
For some time Charles remained gazing at them, thoughtful and silent, then, addressing the few officers who accompanied him, he said,--
"It is so near, we must go there."
It was between three and four in the afternoon when the unexpected guests arrived at the gates of Dresden. Finding the gate closed, Charles XII. told the officer in command that he had come with messages from the Swedish King. Hearing this, the officer conducted him and his suite to the guard-room. Now it happened that at the same moment Flemming passed by, and he was greatly alarmed at recognizing the King.
At this hour Augustus was usually to be found taking exercise in the armoury. This afternoon Countess Cosel was also there, admiring the skill and strength displayed by her lover in breaking iron. Her merry laugh was re-echoing through the hall, when a knock was heard at the door.
"Come in!" called the King.
He turned towards the door as he spoke, but started, and then appeared as though changed to a block of stone on seeing his enemy, Charles XII. Flemming, who followed him, made signs to Countess Cosel, that he only awaited her signal, to summon the soldiers and seize their important guest.
Augustus was still standing motionless, when Charles greeted him cheerfully, exclaiming,--
"Well, brother! how are you?"
Countess Cosel turned purple, and, seizing the King by the arm, whispered,--
"For God's sake, consent!"
It seemed as though Charles XII. had overheard her words, for his face grew stern, and Augustus, turning to the Countess, said stiffly,--
"I beg you; I command you to leave us!"
The Countess, with her accustomed vivacity, was about to make some reply, when the King, frowning angrily, exclaimed,--
"Go!"
Cosel withdrew, glancing angrily at Charles, who stood quietly looking at the armour. She took Flemming's arm; that courtier's eyes were also glowing with anger. He shrugged his shoulders. Augustus cast on them a glance that commanded them both to be silent, and then greeted his visitor politely,--
"We have heard much talk of your strength," said Charles, sneeringly, "and we should be pleased to see one of those miracles you perform so easily."
An iron rod lay on the floor; Augustus raised it.
"Give me your hand." said he, smiling, "and do not be afraid, I will not hurt you."
Charles extended his broad, rough hands. Twisting the rod with perfect ease, Augustus bound his enemy's hands. The two men looked into each other's eyes. Then Augustus broke the fetters, and threw them on the floor. The Swedish King did not utter a word, but began to inspect the armoury.
"You have plenty of arms," said the Swede laconically, "what a pity that you lack men to use them."
From the armoury, both Kings proceeded to the palace, as Charles wished to pay his respects to the Queen, for whom he had as great a respect as he had contempt for Augustus.
In the meantime, the news that Charles XII. was in Dresden spread rapidly through the city.
His name always excited great interest. The Protestants, knowing what he had done for their coreligionists in Silesia, were anxious to see him. That young King, a few years over twenty, was the wonder of all Europe. Count Flemming and all who were attached to Augustus II. were indignant at the boldness of the young hero, who thus set the conquered King at defiance, by coming unarmed into his capital. Flemming and Cosel were furious, and uttered threats of vengeance. The former ordered some of the soldiers to be fetched from the garrison, and wished to capture the enemy, despite the King's prohibition. Anna seized a pistol, and declared she would follow him down the street, and shoot him.
The excitement was considerable and universal, and could not fail to be noticed by Augustus and Charles as they passed to the palace. The King alone was perfectly calm, and by his manner commanded every one to keep quiet. He, as well as Charles, noticed the preparations that had been made, but the Swede's courage did not fail him for a moment, neither did he lose his self-possession. He made no attempt to shorten his visit, and as Augustus was pleased to entertain him, perhaps to test his courage, his visit was a long one. He remained for half an hour at the castle, and this gave Flemming plenty of time to collect the soldiers and place them in readiness; then, fearing the King would not consent to his enemy being captured in Dresden, he despatched a detachment of cavalry to capture him on his way to Meissen.
While Charles XII. was talking with the Queen, Flemming succeeded in calling Augustus from the room. "Your Majesty," he exclaimed vehemently, "this is the only moment in which we shall be able to avenge all our wrongs. Charles XII. is in your Majesty's hands."
"Trusting to my honour," replied Augustus, "therefore not a hair of his head shall be hurt."
"It would be ridiculous to show magnanimity to a man who has brought such calamities on your Majesty. I shall capture him, even if I am beheaded for so doing."
"There is something far more important than your head to be considered in this matter," replied the King, "and that is my honour as a King. Do not dare to do anything of the sort!"
"Then there is nothing further for me to do than to break the sword with which I have served your Majesty." He made a movement as he spoke, as though about to carry out his threat, but Augustus stopped him.
"Flemming," said he, sternly, "do not forget that I am here; that this is my business, and that no one commands here except me!"
Flemming's wrath was extreme.
"Your Majesty will lose another crown by acting thus!"
With these words he rushed away, and the King returned quietly to the Queen's apartments, where he had left his guest. Charles XII. did not even look at him as he entered, although he guessed that outside the door he had been the subject of conversation.
While this was taking place at the castle, Cosel was watching in the street, waiting to fire at Charles XII. as soon as he appeared. Zaklika endeavoured to dissuade her from her purpose, telling her that the populace would immediately rise in his defence, for Charles was a staunch protector of the Protestants. And indeed this would have been the feeling among the greater portion of the crowd now waiting in the streets.
When Charles XII. was ready to depart, Augustus ordered his own horse to be brought, so that he might accompany his guest. The streets were thronged with people, the windows were filled with curious heads, a profound silence reigned, as the two Kings rode along the streets; it seemed as though the waiting multitude held their breath, in their anxiety to catch the conversation of the riders. All eyes were turned towards Charles, who rode calmly along without exhibiting the least sign of feeling or emotion. Beside him rode Augustus, looking gloomy and thoughtful, but at the same time majestic. They turned towards the gate leading to Meissen. The King had sent orders that three cannons should be fired in honour of the Swede. When the first shot was fired, and Charles turned to express his thanks, Augustus touched his hat, and smiled indifferently. At the gate, the cannon were fired a second time. Charles now wished to take leave of his host, but Augustus knew Flemming and his people too well not to suspect that they had prepared some ambush. He knew also that the only way in which he could protect the Swede was by accompanying him until he was out of reach of danger.
Augustus accompanied his guest to Neudorf; here they shook hands and parted. Charles XII. galloped on his way, but Augustus sat motionless for a few moments, gazing straight before him, wondering whether after all he had done well in listening to the dictates of honour.
He was still waiting there, when Flemming arrived foaming with rage. "Your Majesty," said he, "doubtless thinks that Europe will admire your magnanimity, but if you imagine that it will counterbalance the imprisonment at Patkul, you are greatly mistaken. The people will laugh at such heroism."
"Silence, Flemming," cried the King threateningly, then turning his steed, he galloped away alone in the direction of the city.
He dismounted at the Palace of the Four Seasons, where he found Cosel even more indignant than Flemming.
"Do not come near me!" she exclaimed, sobbing. "You have made a grievous mistake. I do not wish to see you any more. Twenty millions of money, hundreds of thousands of soldiers, the death of your officers, your own shame, all this you might have avenged, and you would not. You were afraid!"
The King threw himself on the sofa, and allowed the Countess to storm as she pleased--he did not utter a word. Only when, exhausted by passion, she sank into an arm-chair, he remarked coldly,--
"I had no wish to stain my honour with such a revenge!"
The next day, seeing that every one reproached him for his lenity, he summoned a council of war, which being presided over by Flemming, declared that it would have been right to imprison the Swedish King, and force him to sign a fresh treaty, seeing he had so frequently violated all the laws of nations.
The King heard them in silence.
The Swedish envoy at Vienna, having heard of the council, remarked contemptuously,--
"These people decide on the second day what they should have done the day before."