And he went out through the door of the entrance hall which had been opened by a servant. The pastor and the candidate followed him.
The lieutenant turned back for a moment, and embraced his sister, then he approached Helena:
"I thank you from my heart for your song," he said, and took her hand; then half as if the last words still ran in his mind, half as if speaking to her, he added:
"Wenn Menschen auseinander gehn, So sagen sie: Auf Wiedersehn!"
"Auf Wiedersehn!" he repeated, raising her hand to his lips and imprinting upon it a kiss.
He then hastened after his father.
A bright red colour flew into the young girl"s cheeks, and her expression grew animated and her eyes very bright, as they followed him to the door. Then she sank down on the chair before the piano, and a hot tear fell into her lap, unseen by Madame von Wendenstein, whose face was still hidden in her handkerchief, unseen by her daughter, who held her mother in a gentle embrace, and stroked her soft grey hair.
Fritz Deyke stood outside; he had not been able to deny himself the pleasure of leading round the lieutenant"s horse; Roland pawed the ground impatiently.
The lieutenant took an affectionate leave of his father and the pastor, and gave his hand to the candidate, who received it with a bow. Had it not been for the darkness, the deadly hatred of the look he cast upon the young officer must have been observed.
Then the young man sprang lightly into the saddle.
"G.o.d grant, sir, I may soon come too!" Fritz Deyke cried after him, as, putting his horse to a gallop, he disappeared into the gathering night.
CHAPTER X.
BERLIN.
The streets of Berlin, though, bright with sunshine, looked empty at eight o"clock on the morning of the 15th of June, 1866. Life in that city does not begin so early; and at this hour only a few of the lower orders hurried along under the lime trees, with here and there an employe or a merchant hastening to his office.
A troubled expression appeared on the face of every pa.s.ser-by; acquaintances stopped and exchanged greetings and the news of the day, but the news was of an unpleasant and evil nature; the Austrian amba.s.sador was recalled, and war was inevitable,--a war which no one desired, and which was entirely ascribed to the ambition of the minister, who, in order to retain office, was about to set Germany, nay Europe, on fire.
So thought and spoke the good people of Berlin, for they were accustomed to think and speak in the morning as Aunt Voss and Uncle Spener had caused them to read the day before; and these two long-established and highly privileged organs of public opinion daily maintained, in articles whole columns in length, that the disturbance in Germany was entirely owing to the restless ambition and criminal rashness of this Herr von Bismarck; and all the Mullers, all the Schultzes, all the Lehmanns, and all the Neumanns who had been brought up in the royal capital, firmly believed that nothing was needed to preserve the absolute peace of Europe under the parliamentary government, than that Herr von Bismarck should be sent about his business, either to Schonhausen, or to Kniephof, to cultivate his March Ukrain turnips, or his Pomeranian cabbages.
But when some of the Landwehr marched past on their way to the railway stations from whence they were to be sent off to join the different army corps, a very discontented expression was seen on the faces of the Berlin children, both old and young, as they stood about in knots at the side of the streets and roundly abused that "junker Bismarck," who brought such misery on families, and cost the country so much money.
This did not hinder the kind-hearted inhabitants of Berlin from bestowing on "the sacrifice to Bismarck"s policy," the "Blue Laddies"
of the Landwehr Guards, who were being sent to this horrid fraternal war, many abundant tokens of their affection, in the shape of beer, cigars, sausages, and spirits. And "the sacrifice" itself appeared by no means discontented; for from its ranks resounded those merry old Prussian soldier songs, which are handed down unwritten from generation to generation, and transplanted from the bivouac to the home, where the boys learn them when they play at soldiers, and sing them later on in the bivouacs of the man[oe]uvres, or of the first war to which their king and country send them.
In the evening, all the Schultzes, Mullers, Lehmanns, and Neumanns went to their hereditary beer-shops, and sat round the table listening to the news from the mouth of the oracle of their different circles; and they heard how that very day a journalist had written, or a deputy had spoken, inculcating the great lesson that all the uneasiness, all the stagnation of trade, all the troubles of private families, were caused by one man, who sacrificed the happiness of the subject to his own mad notions and ambition; one man, who placed the crown and the country in danger, Herr von Bismarck, the aristocratic despot!
No wonder then that all the people who were hurrying along in the early morning looked on the world with dismal eyes, nor that when acquaintances met and discussed the news, a curse, not loud but deep, should be bestowed on that Bismarck who plunged the whole world, which would have been so happy without him, into grief and woe.
Through the hurrying, busy people, and through the discontented groups walked Bismarck himself, under the lime-trees, from the Wilhelmsstra.s.se. He looked as calm and well satisfied in his white cuira.s.sier"s uniform, with its pale yellow collar, plain stool helmet, and major"s epaulets, as if he were at the highest point of popularity.
No one greeted him, but he did not care, and he walked on with a quick step, and military bearing; he reached the corner where Friedrichsstra.s.se is divided by the lime-trees, opposite Kranzler"s, the well-known confectioner; there he went to a newspaper shop and bought a morning number of Aunt Voss"s newspaper, a few inquisitive folks silently watching him with no friendly looks meanwhile, for every one knew the head of the ministry.
He pursued his way, hastily skimming the newspaper, until he came to the king"s plain-looking square palace, opposite the colossal statue of Frederick the Great, over which the royal standard, with its purple ground and black eagles, waved in the morning wind.
The guard presented arms, and Bismarck entered the palace, and turned to the left, on the raised ground floor, towards the king"s apartments.
Here he found the equerry on duty. Major the Baron von Loen greeted him, and began a conversation on indifferent subjects, until the hour of audience arrived, which the king always observed with the most conscientious punctuality.
In his large, simply-furnished work and reception room stood King William himself, with his grey hair and youthful, powerfully built figure. He had placed himself near the further window, from whence he could look down on the Platz below, as he frequently did during an audience, or while hearing a report, and through which the Berlin public often saw him during the morning hours.
King William wore the black overcoat and white b.u.t.tons of the first regiment of foot guards; his fresh-coloured face with its strongly marked, benevolent features, surrounded with white hair, and a carefully kept white beard, was grave, almost melancholy, as he listened to a man, who spoke to him upon the contents of various papers in a large black portfolio.
This man, who was a head shorter than the king, was dressed in plain black, with a white neck-handkerchief. His hair, which was quite white, was brushed smoothly down on each side of his head, his face had a very animated expression, and his keen, candid eyes, sparkling with good humour and youthful fire, were fixed on the king.
It was the Privy Councillor Schneider, who was as well known as a dramatic author, manager, and actor, as he was as a military writer; he had been reader to Frederick William IV., and to William I., and for many years a faithful servant to the royal family.
"You have spoken with the king?" asked the monarch.
"I have, your majesty," replied Schneider; "on my journey home from Dusseldorf, where I had been to obtain some information for my historical work, I was obliged to stop in Hanover, and as his majesty King George has always shown me the most gracious marks of his favour, as your majesty is aware, and as I feel for him the greatest sympathy and respect, I drove to Herrenhausen, had myself announced, and requested an audience. The king received me in his own apartments, and his breakfast being just served, he graciously invited me to breakfast with him. His majesty was most kind, and I experienced afresh the truly magic charm of his manner."
"Yes," said King William, "my cousin George is of an amiable and n.o.ble nature. I often wish we had remained nearer together. It would have been better for Germany. He, alas! always feels enmity to Prussia."
"I cannot understand it," said Schneider; "personal aversion cannot possibly be the cause, for I a.s.sure your majesty, the king delights in recollections of his youth at Berlin, he feels a deep and filial veneration for his late majesty Frederick William III., and he drew from his wonderful memory numerous little traits and anecdotes of old times, of Count Neale, and old Princess Wittgenstein----"
"For whom we princes felt such immense respect," said the king laughing.
"And," continued Schneider, "I could see what pleasure the king felt in these reminiscences, and how much he was interested by my own recollections of the same times."
"And did you speak of the present political position?" asked the king.
"The conversation could not fail to touch upon that," said Schneider.
"I took the liberty of expressing my hopes that the king, from his friendly remembrance of the Berlin court, would take your majesty"s side in the present sharp conflict, and that the old bond which united Hanover and Prussia in the past, might be strengthened afresh."
"And what was his majesty"s reply?" asked King William anxiously.
"The king spoke most candidly and openly," replied Schneider, "displaying the chivalrous character I have always admired, when I have had the honour of any intercourse with him. He a.s.sured me he had not the smallest animosity against Prussia, though he is so often accused of it; that he considered a German war would be the greatest of misfortunes, and that from the laws of the Confederation, he should consider it an impossibility, until it actually commenced. In such wickedness and misery he would never take part."
"Why then did he not conclude a treaty of neutrality?" asked the king.
"But his Hanoverian majesty believes himself to be completely neutral,"
replied Schneider.
"Then I cannot understand it!" exclaimed King William; "Count Platen always denied the conclusion which I so greatly desired."
"I know nothing, your majesty, of what Count Platen did, or did not do; but of this I am certain, King George believes himself to be maintaining the most complete neutrality."
"You do not believe he has concluded a treaty with Austria?" asked the king.
"No, your majesty, I do not believe it, for the king said in the most decided way, he would take no part whatever in this unholy war.
Nevertheless----"
"Nevertheless?" asked the king.