"Be quick, then," said the policeman, "or I will call in the soldiers, and they can shoot you as easily as you could shoot us."
Ranuzi shrugged his shoulders. "You will be very careful not to shoot me. The dead do not speak, and it is very important for my judges that I should speak. Go to that door; I give my word that I will follow you."
As if to strengthen his words, he raised the hand which held the pistol, and the two men withdrew with threatening glances, to the door.
Ranuzi then turned again to Marietta, who turned her great flashing eyes upon him with an expression of anger and astonishment, mixed with hatred and admiration.
"Marietta," he said, gently. She trembled at the sound of his voice. He perceived this, and smiled. "Marietta," he repeated, "you have betrayed me; you have revenged your love! I do not reproach you, my anaconda, but I pray you to tell me one thing; did you send the last letters which I gave you to the post?"
"No," she replied, compelling her eyes, with a mighty effort, to meet his.
"Wretch! What did you do with them."
"I sent them to the King of Prussia."
Ranuzi uttered a shriek, and fell back a step. "Then I am indeed lost,"
he murmured, "as well as that unhappy creature, who pines for light and freedom. Poor Trenck! Poor Amelia! All is lost; all through the jealousy of this wretched woman. I tell you, Marietta," he continued aloud, as he placed his hand heavily on her shoulder, "it is not necessary that I should curse you, you will do that yourself. This hour will act as deadly poison on your heart, of which you will die. It is true, you have revenged yourself. Today you rejoice in this, for you believe that you hate me, but tomorrow you will repent; to-morrow grief will overtake you, and it will grow with every day--you will feel that you must love me for ever and ever; you must love me, because you have wrought my ruin. Yes, you are right--you have discovered the means to keep yourself in my remembrance. In my dungeon I will think of you. I will do so, and curse you; but you also will think of me; and when you do, you will wring your hands and curse yourself, for revenge will not kill the love in your heart. Be that your punishment. Farewell!"
He passed before her, and quietly approached the policemen. "Come, gentlemen, I am quite ready to follow you; and that you may be entirely at ease I will leave my pistol here. It is my legacy to that lady--my last souvenir. Perhaps she may use it in the future."
He placed the pistol upon her writing-table and hastily approached the door. "Come, gentlemen; I am your prisoner!"
He signed to them to follow him, and walked proudly through the hall.
Marietta stood there trembling and deadly pale--her eyes dilated, her lips opened, as if to utter a shriek. Thus she watched him, breathless, and as if enchained with horror.
Now she saw him open the door of the hall, and throwing back at her one cold, flashing glance, he went out, followed by the police and the soldiers.
"He is gone! he is gone!" she shrieked, as if in a frenzy. "They are leading him to imprisonment--perhaps to death. Oh, to death! It is I who have murdered him. He is right. I am indeed cursed. I have murdered him, and I love him." And with a wild shriek she sank fainting to the ground.
CHAPTER IX. TRENCK.
Trenck still lived; neither chains nor years of loneliness had broken his strength or bowed his spirit. His tall, gigantic form had shrunk to a skeleton; his hair had whitened and hung around his hollow face like an ashen veil. Heavy chains clasped his feet and his throat, a broad iron band encircled his waist, which was attached to the wall by a short chain--a thick bar held his hands apart; but still he lived. For years he had paced, with short, restless steps, this little space that covered his grave; but he smiled derisively at the coarse stone which bore his name.
Trenck still lived. He lived because he had a fixed desire, a grand aim in view--he thirsted for freedom, and believed it attainable. Trenck could not die, for without was liberty, the sun, life, and honor. He would not die; for to be willing to die, he must first have lived.
His life had been so short--a few fleeting years of youth, of careless enjoyment--a joyous dream of love and ambition! This had been his fate.
Then came long, weary years of imprisonment--a something which he knew not, but it was not life--had crept to him in his prison, and with a cruel hand marked years upon his brow--years through which he had not lived, but suffered. And still he remained young in spite of gray hairs and wrinkles. He glowed with hope and defiance, his sluggish blood was warmed from time to time with new hopes, new expectations. His imagination painted wonderful pictures of future happiness. This hope always remained smiling and vigorous; notwithstanding his many disappointments--his many useless attempts to escape, Trenck still hoped for freedom. As often as the subterranean passages which he dug were discovered, he recommenced his work, and dug new ones; when the sentinels whom he had won by gold and flattery were detected and punished, he found means to obtain other friends.
Truly, friends did not fail; the buried but still living prisoner had friends who never forgot him; bold, loving friends, risking their lives for him. The mighty power of his great misfortunes won him friends. The soldiers who guarded him were seized with shuddering horror and pity at the sight of this sunken form, reminding them of the picture of the skeleton and the hour-glass which hung in the village church. Trenck knew how to profit by this. The officers, who came every day to inspect his prison, were charmed and amazed by the freshness of his spirit, his bright conversation, and gay remarks. These interviews were the only interruption to the dulness of their garrison life. They came to him to be cheered. Not being willing to sit with him in the dark, they brought their lights with them; they opened the door of his cell that they might not be obliged to remain with him in the damp, putrid air. They wondered at his firmness and courage; they sympathized with his youth and loneliness, and this sympathy made for him, earnest, useful friends, who revelled in the thought that Trenck's renewed attempts at escape would at last be crowned with happy results, that he would obtain his freedom.
He was on the eve of a great day. To-morrow he would live again, to-morrow he would be free; this time it was no chimera, no dream--he must succeed.
"Yes, my plan cannot fail," murmured Trenck, as he sat upon his stone seat and gazed at the iron door, which had just closed behind the Commandant Bruckhausen. "My cruel jailer has discovered nothing, carefully as he searched my cell; this time I have dug no mines, broken no walls; this time I shall pass through that door, my comrades will greet me joyfully, and the poor prisoner shall be the mighty commander of the fortress. Only one night more, one single night of patience, and life, and love, and the world shall again belong to me. Oh, I feel as if I would go mad with joy. I have had strength to endure misfortunes, but perhaps the rapture of freedom may be fatal. My God! my God! if I should lose my senses! if the light of the sun should scorch my brain! if the hum of the busy world should crush my spirit!"
He lifted his hands in terror to his brow; he felt as if wrapped in flames, as if fire were rising from his brain; the chains rattled around him with unearthly sounds. "The slightest error, the least forgetfulness would endanger my plan. I will be quiet--I will repeat once more all that we have agreed upon. But first away with these slavish chains, to-morrow I shall be a free man; I will commence my role to-day."
He removed the handcuffs, and with his free right hand loosened the girdle from his waist, at the point where the blacksmith, who fastened it upon him, told him it might be opened by a pressure light as a feather. Now he was free; he stretched with delight his thin, meagre form, and let his arms swing in the air as if to prove their muscle.
This was a sweet, a wonderful prelude to freedom; many weeks and months he had worked upon these chains to prepare for the moment of freedom.
Now these chains had fallen. He was already a free man; he cared not for these dark, damp walls. He did not see them; he was already without, where the sun was shining, the birds were singing; where the blue arch of heaven looked down upon the blooming earth. What did he care for the death-like stillness which surrounded him? he heard the noise in the streets; he saw men running here and there in busy haste; he listened to their bright conversation, their merry laughter; he mixed among them with lively greeting, and shared their joys and cares.
Suddenly he again pressed his brow fearfully, and cried; "I shall go mad! A thousand dancing pictures and happy faces are swarming around me; I shall go mad! But no, I will control myself; I will be calm." He raised his head with his accustomed bold defiance. "I will look freedom in the face; my eyelids shall not quiver and my heart shall beat calmly.
I will be quiet and thoughtful. I will think it all over once more.
Listen to me, oh friend! you, who have heard all my sighs and my despair; you, who know my misery; listen to me, oh gloomy cell. You have always been faithful; you have never wished to forsake or leave me; and when I struggled to escape, you called me always back. But this is our last day together; you shall hear my confession, I will tell you all my plans, by what means I shall escape from you, my true friend, my dark, dreary cell. Know first that this garrison is composed of nine hundred men, who are much dissatisfied. It will not be difficult to win them, particularly if they are well bribed. Besides this, there are two majors and two lieutenants conspiring with me; they will tell their soldiers what to do. The guard at the star-port, is composed of but fifteen men, and if they do not obey me willingly, we will know how to compel obedience. At the end of the star-port lies the city gate. At this only twelve men and one officer are stationed; these we shall easily overpower. On the other side, close to the gate, the Austrian Captain von Kimsky is awaiting me with the remainder of the prisoners of war.
All the officers, who have pledged themselves to assist my undertaking, are concealed in a safe house rented for this purpose. At my first call they will rush forward and fall upon the guard; we will overpower them and enter the city. There other friends await us; one of them, under some pretext, holds in his quarters arms for his company, and at my call he will join me with his armed band. Oh my God! my God! I see every thing so plainly and clearly before me. I see myself rushing joyfully through the streets, dashing into the casemates, which contain nine thousand prisoners. I call to them: 'Up, comrades, up; I am Frederick von Trenck, your captain and your leader; arm yourselves and follow me.'
I hear them greet me joyfully and cry, 'Long live Trenck!' They take their arms and we rush to the other casemates, where seven thousand Austrian and Russian prisoners are confined. We free them, and I head a little army of sixteen thousand men. Magdeburg is mine; the fortress, the magazine of the army, the treasury, the arsenal, all is in our power. I shall conquer all for Maria Theresa. Oh, King Frederick! King Frederick! I shall avenge myself on you for these long years of misery, for the martyrdom of this fearful imprisonment. Trenck will not be obliged to leave Magdeburg; he will drive away the Prussians, and make himself master."
He laughed so loudly that the old walls echoed the sound, and a wailing sigh seemed to glide along the building. Trenck started and looked timidly around him.
"I am still alone," he murmured, "no one has heard my words; no, no one but you," he continued cheerfully, "my old silent friend, my faithful prison. To-morrow morning the officer on guard will enter and order the sentinels to remove the bed; as soon as they enter I shall rush out and lock the door. The sentinels being locked up, I put on the clothes which are lying in readiness for me in the passage, and then forward to my soldiers. I shall distribute gold freely among them--a friend will meet me with the money at the house of Captain von Kleist, and if he has not sufficient, Amelia has richly supplied me. Arise, arise from your grave, my secret treasures."
He crouched close to the wall and removed the mortar and chalk carefully; he then drew out a stone and took from under it a purse full of gold.
His eye, accustomed to the darkness, saw the gold through the silk net; he nodded to it and laughed with delight as he poured it out and played madly with it. His countenance suddenly assumed an earnest expression.
"Poor Amelia," he murmured softly, "you have sacrificed your life, your beauty, and your youth for me. With never-failing zeal you have moved around me like my guardian angel, and how am I repaying you? By taking from your brother, King Frederick, his finest fortress, his money, his provisions; by compelling you and yours to fly from a city which no longer belongs to you, but to the Empress of Austria, your enemy. With your money I have taken this city; Amelia, you are ignorant of this now, and when you learn it, perhaps you will curse me and execrate the love which has poisoned your whole life. Oh, Amelia! Amelia, forgive me for betraying you also. My unfortunate duty is forcing me onward, and I must obey. Yes," he said, springing from his seat, "I must yield to my fate, I must be free again--I must be a man once more; I can sit no longer like a wild animal in his cage, and tell my grief and my despair to the cold walls. I must reconquer life--I must again see the sun, the world, and mankind--I must live, suffer, and act."
He walked violently to and fro, his whole being was in feverish expectation and excitement, and he felt alarmed. Suddenly he remained standing; pressing his two hands against his beating temples, he murmured:
"I shall indeed go mad. Joy at my approaching deliverance confuses my poor head; I will try to sleep, to be calm--collect my strength for to-morrow."
He lay down upon his miserable couch, and forced himself to be quiet and silent--not to speak aloud to himself in his lonely cell, as he was accustomed to do. Gradually the mad tension of his nerves relaxed, gradually his eyes closed, and a soft, beneficial slumber came over him.
All was still in the dark cell; nothing was to be heard but the loud breathing of the sleeper; but even in sleep, visions of life and liberty rejoiced his heart--his face beamed with heavenly joy; he murmured softly, "I am free!--free at last!"
The hours passed away, but Trenck still slumbered--profound stillness surrounded him. The outer world had long since been awake--the sun was up, and had sent a clear beam of its glory through the small, thickly-barred window, even into the comfortless, desolate cell, and changed the gloom of darkness into a faint twilight.
CHAPTER X. "TRENCK, ARE YOU THERE?"
Trenck slept. Sleep on, sleep on, unfortunate prisoner, for while asleep you are free and joyous; when you awake, your happy dreams will vanish; agony and despair will be your only companions.
Listen! there are steps in the passage; Trenck does not hear them--he still sleeps. But, now a key is turned, the door is opened, and Trenck springs from his pallet.
"Are you there, my friends? Is all ready?"
But he totters back with a fearful shriek, his eyes fixed despairingly upon the door. There stood Von Bruckhausen, the prison commandant, beside him several officers, behind them a crowd of soldiers.
This vision explained all to Trenck. It told him that his plan had miscarried--that again all had been in vain. It told him that he must remain what he was, a poor, wretched prisoner--more wretched than before, for they would now find out that when alone he could release himself from his chains. They would find his gold, which he had taken from its hiding-place, and was now lying loosely upon the floor.
"I am lost!" said he, covering his face with his hands, and throwing himself upon his bed.