"J'epouse la pauvrete, Si pour dot elle m'apporte L'honneur et la probite."
The sun coming through the window rested upon his tall form, causing the many jewels upon his garments to sparkle like stars on the blue background, enveloping him in a sort of glory. He had repeated for the third time, "J'epouse la pauvrete," when the door leading to his wife's apartments was opened, and the countess entered in the full splendor of her queenly toilet, sparkling with jewels. The count was startled by her entrance, but he now broke out into a loud, mocking laugh.
"Truly, countess," said he, "you could not have found a better moment to interrupt me. For the last half hour my thoughts have been given up to sentiment. Wonderful dreams have been chasing each other through my brain. But you have again shown yourself my good angel, Antonia, by dissipating these painful thoughts." He pressed a fervent kiss upon her hand, then looking at her with a beaming countenance, he said:
"How beautiful you are, Antonia; you must have found that mysterious river which, if bathed in, insures perpetual youth and beauty."
"Ah!" said the countess, smiling, "all know that no one can flatter so exquisitely as Count Bruhl."
"But I am not always paid with the same coin, Antonia," said the count, earnestly. "Look at this poem, that the King of Prussia has written of me. Truly, there is no flattery in it."
While reading, the countess's countenance was perfectly clear; not the slightest cloud was to be seen upon her brow.
"Do you not think it a good poem?" said she, indifferently.
"Well," said he, "I must acknowledge that there was a certain fire in it that touched my heart."
"I find it stupid," said she, sternly. "There is but one thing in it that pleases me, and that is the title-'il ne faut pas s'inquieter de l'avenir.' The little King of Prussia has done well to choose this for his motto, for without it, it strikes me, his peace would be forever gone, for his future will surely be a humiliating one."
The count laughed.
"How true that is!" said he "and a just answer to his stupid poem. Speak of something else."
He tore the paper into small pieces, which, with a graceful bow, he laid at the feet of the countess.
"A small sacrifice," said he, "which I bring to my goddess. Tread upon it, and destroy the king's words with your fairy foot." The countess obeyed him, laughingly.
"But now, count," said she, "we will, for a moment, speak of graver things. I have received letters from Loudon-from our son. Poor Henry is in despair, and he has requested me to intercede for him. You were always very stern with him, my friend, therefore he fears your anger, now that he has been a little imprudent."
"Well, what is it?" said the count; "I hope it is no duel, for that would make me extremely angry."
"It is nothing of that kind. His imprudence is of another sort, He is in want of money."
"Money!" said the count, in amazement; "why, barely a month ago, I sent him six hundred thousand thalers. That, and what he took with him, three months ago, is quite a large sum, for it amounts to more than a million of thalers."
"But, my dear husband, in England every thing is so dear! and there, to move amongst and impress those rich lords, he must really have more. It seems that our Charles Joseph has fallen in love with a lady whom all Loudon worships for her surpassing beauty. But she, having a cold heart, will listen to no one. She laughs at those who flatter her, and will receive no presents. She seemed an invincible fortress, but our son, thanks to stratagem, has taken it."
"I am curious to know how," said the count, laughing.
"He played a game of ecarte with her. He played for notes to the amount of ten pounds, and, at first, Charles won, much to the displeasure of the proud lady, who did not relish being beaten, even in a game of cards. Charles, perceiving this, played badly. The lady won from him eighty thousand pounds."
"Eighty thousand pounds," cried the count, "why, that is a half a million of thalers!"
"And do you mean to say," said the countess, angrily, "that that is too much to gain the favor of a beautiful lady?"
"No! it is not too much; but it is certainly enough. I hope, at least, it was not in vain."
"No, no! and Loudon is now raving about the intellectual, genial and generous son of Count Bruhl. I trust, count, that you instantly sent him a check."
"Yes," said the count, shrugging his shoulders. "But, countess, if the king were to hear this story, it would cause much evil; for you know that he believes in economy; luckily for me, he believes me to be an economical man. Those enemies who would not dare to accuse us, would have no fears of saying evil of our son; he will certainly hear this eighty-thousand-pound story."
"We will tell him ourselves, but say that the story is much exaggerated."
"What a wonderful woman you are, Antonia!" said her husband; "your counsel is wise; we will follow it."
At this moment a slight knocking was heard at the door, and the secretary entered with a sealed letter.
"A courier from Torgau just arrived with this from the commandant." The count's brow became clouded.
"Business! forever business!" said he. "How dared you annoy me with this, upon the birthday of my wife?"
"Pardon, your excellency; but the courier brought with this packet such strange news, that I ventured to disturb you, to communicate--"
The beating of drums and the thunder of cannon interrupted him.
"The king and queen are now entering their carriage," cried the count.
"No more business to-day, my friend. It will keep till tomorrow. Come, Antonia, we must welcome their majesties." And taking his wife's hand, he passed out of the study.
CHAPTER XII. THE INTERRUPTED FEAST.
As the Count Bruhl and his wife entered the saloon, it almost seemed as if they were the royal couple for whom all this company was waiting.
Every one of any rank or position in Dresden was present. There were to be seen the gold and silver embroidered uniforms of generals and ambassadors; jewelled stars were sparkling upon many breasts; the proudest, loveliest women of the court, bearing the noblest Saxon names, were there, accompanied by princes, counts, dukes, and barons, and one and all were bowing reverentially to the count and his wife. And now, at a sign from the grand chamberlain, the pages of the countess, clothed in garments embroidered with silver and pearls, approached to carry her train; beside them were the count's officers, followed by all the noble guests. Thus they passed through the third room, where the servants of the house, numbering upward of two hundred, were placed in military order, and then on until they came to the grand entrance, which had been turned into a floral temple.
The royal equipage was at the gate; the host and hostess advanced to welcome the king and queen, whose arrival had been announced by the roar of cannon.
The king passed through the beautiful avenue, and greeted the company placed on either side of him, gayly. The queen, sparkling with diamonds, forcing herself also to smile, was at his side; and as their majesties passed on, saying here and there a kind, merry word, it seemed as if the sun had just risen over all these noble, rich, and powerful guests. This was reflected upon every countenance. The gods had demanded from Olympus to favor these mortals with their presence, and to enjoy themselves among them. And truly, even a king might spend some happy hours in this delightful garden.
The air was so soft and mild, so sweet from the odor of many flowers; the rustling of the trees was accompanied by soft whispers of music that seemed floating like angels' wings upon the air. Every countenance was sparkling with happiness and content, and the king could but take the flattering unction to his soul that all his subjects were equally as happy as the elite by which he was surrounded.
Pleased with this thought and delighted with all the arrangements for the fete, the king gave himself up to an enjoyment which, though somewhat clouding his character as a deity, was immensely gratifying to him.
He abandoned himself to the delights of the table! He devoured with a sort of amiable astonishment the rare and choice dishes which, even to his experienced and pampered palate, appeared unfathomable mysteries; luxuries had been procured, not only from Loudon and Paris, but from every part of the world. He delighted himself with the gold and purple wines, whose vintage was unknown to him, and whose odor intoxicated him more than the perfume of flowers. He requested the count to give the name and history of all these wines.
The count obeyed in that shy, reverential manner in which he was accustomed to speak. He charmed him by relating the many difficulties he had overcome to obtain this wine from the Cape of Good Hope, which had to cross the line twice to arrive at its highest perfection. He said that for two years he had been thinking of this gloriously happy day, and had had a ship upon the sea for the purpose of perfecting this wine.
He bade the king notice the strangely formed fish, which could only be obtained from the Chinese sea. Then, following up the subject, he spoke of the peculiar and laughable customs and habits of the Chinese, thus causing even the proud queen to laugh at his humorous descriptions.
Count Bruhl was suddenly interrupted in an unusual manner.
His secretary, Willmar, approached the royal table, and without a word of excuse, without greeting the king, handed the count a sealed package!
This was such a crime against courtly etiquette that the count, from sheer amazement, made no excuses to the king; he only cast a threatening look at the secretary. But as he encountered Willmar's pale, terrified countenance, a tremor seized him, and he cast an eager glance upon the papers in his hand, which, no doubt, contained the key to all this mystery. "They are from the commandant at Leipsic," whispered the secretary; "I entreat your excellency to read them."
Before the count had time, however, to open the dispatch, a still stranger event took place.
The Prussian ambassador, who, upon the plea of illness, had declined Count Bruhl's invitation, suddenly appeared in the garden, accompanied by the four secretaries of his legation, and approached the royal table. Upon his countenance there was no sign of sickness, but rather an expression of great joy.