The old lady approached the bed, pressed an affectionate kiss upon her son"s brow, and gazed long into his eyes.
Then she left the room, and sank upon the sofa in the adjoining apartment: the frightful excitement and the long, anxious suspense had so exhausted her strength that her whole soul sought relief in a storm of tears.
Helena remained sitting near the bed, still holding the hand of her beloved, still gazing upon him calm and motionless, the brilliancy of perfect happiness on her pale features.
The candidate remained standing, with folded hands; he retained the gentle smile unchanged upon his lips, whilst his eyes never moved from the scene at the lieutenant"s bedside.
After a little consideration the doctor wrote a prescription, and, rising with the paper in his hand, joined the others.
"Our patient must take this every hour," he said. "I hope he may sleep quietly during the night; to-morrow, or the next day, we can begin a strengthening diet, and if G.o.d continues to help us, we may soon look for a rapid recovery."
He turned to the Candidate Behrmann.
"Forgive my hasty words," he said gravely. "You were right when you spoke of the divine power of G.o.d"s word. G.o.d has indeed performed a wonder; not one case in a hundred would have pa.s.sed through such a crisis favourably. I bow before this wonder, and with you I look up with thankfulness and adoration to the Day-spring who sends down knowledge and faith to us, as rays of light from an eternal centre."
He spoke warmly and feelingly as he held out his hand to the candidate.
An indescribable expression appeared on Behrmann"s face. He cast down his eyes, bent his head, and was silent.
Then he remembered that many sick friends were wanting him, and he took leave of Madame von Wendenstein with a few words of sympathy. He went up to Helena and took her hand.
Why did she withdraw it with a hasty movement of fear? Why did an icy coldness stream from his fingers to her heart? Did she see the involuntary look which flashed from his eyes when he approached the bed, or was it that secret instinct which causes unexplained sympathy and antipathy, often judging more truly than the longest experience, the deepest knowledge of mankind, or the most prudent reflection?
The physician and the candidate departed, and the ladies were left alone with the invalid, who fell into a calm sleep.
Fritz Deyke, whose strong nerves soon recovered from the excitement of the last hour, gave himself up completely to joy. After he had fetched the lieutenant"s medicine he hastened into the little garden, where Margaret was watering her flowers, whose drooping heads told of the excessive heat of the last few days.
He said very little. He hurried to and fro, filling her watering-pot again and again; and then he made little channels in the ground to the roots of the plants, that the water might penetrate more quickly. He admired the quickness and grace with which Margaret watered her plants; how lightly and cleverly she raised the drooping flowers and tied them to sticks, and he saw that sometimes she looked kindly at him, and that she blushed a little when he observed it.
Then he seated himself with old Lohmeier and his daughter at their simple but excellent supper, and again he admired Margaret"s adroitness and attention to her household duties, and the cheerful comfort she shed around her.
And he thought to himself how pretty she would look in the rich old farmhouse at Blechow, and how the elder Deyke would rejoice at having such a housekeeper and daughter-in-law. What Margaret thought was her own secret, but she looked supremely happy as she served her father and his guest, and performed all the duties of an attentive housewife, with the skill of an experienced hostess and the grace of a lovely girl.
Thus quiet joy and hopeful happiness prevailed throughout the good burgher house in Langensalza.
The candidate Behrmann visited many of the sick and wounded, and unweariedly spoke eloquent and impressive words of comfort, and he refused all thanks with humility. He advised and ordered in the hospitals; and praises of the pious, gifted, and exemplary young clergyman resounded from every lip.
CHAPTER XXI.
RECONCILIATION.
Countess Frankenstein sat in the reception-room of her house in the Herrenga.s.se, in Vienna. Nothing had altered in this salon; the prodigious events and the mighty storms that had shaken the power of the House of Hapsburg to its very foundations could not have been suspected from the aspect of this room when unoccupied, so complete was its stamp of aristocratic immutability and perfect repose. There was the same old furniture which had already served several generations, now looking down from their faintly gleaming frames of tarnished gilding upon the doings of their children and grand-children; there was the high, wide chimney-piece, the flames from which had been reflected in the bright, youthful eyes of those who long ago had become staid grandmothers; there was the same clock with its groups of shepherds and shepherdesses which had marked the moment of birth and the moment of death of many a member of the family, and with equal calmness had added second to second in hours of joy or hours of sorrow. Amongst all these objects, lifeless indeed but full of memories, and accustomed to look calmly on the happiness or sadness of generations pa.s.sed away, sat the living beings of the present, deeply moved and distressed by the terrible and unexpected blow which had fallen on the House of Hapsburg and on Austria.
The old Countess Frankenstein was grave and dignified as ever, but there was a sorrowful expression on her proud, calm face as she sat on the large sofa; beside her, dressed in black, sat the Countess Clam Gallas, whoso tearful eyes were often covered with her embroidered handkerchief. Opposite the ladies sat General von Reischach; his fresh, healthy face glowed brightly as ever, the dark eyes looked out keen and lively beneath his short white hair, but though this expression of jovial cheerfulness could not be banished, there was beyond it a look of melancholy grief. Countess Clara sat beside her mother, leaning back in an arm-chair, and on her young and beautiful face lay a breath of deep sorrow, for she was a true daughter of the proud Austrian aristocracy, and she felt deeply and keenly the humiliation which the ancient banners of the empire had suffered at Koniggratz, but her melancholy was spread but as a light veil over the joy and happiness that filled her dreamy eyes. Notwithstanding all the dangers of Trautenau and Koniggratz, Lieutenant von Stielow had returned unwounded; the war was now as good as ended, she feared no fresh perils for him, and when the war was concluded, preparations for the marriage were to be commenced.
The young countess sat in a dreamy reverie, pursuing the charming pictures unrolled for the future, and hearing little of the conversation carried on around her.
"This disaster is the effect of the incomprehensible regard shown to the clamour of the lower cla.s.ses," cried Countess Clam Gallas, in a voice trembling with grief and anger. "Benedek received the chief command because he was "a man of the people;" the officers of n.o.ble birth were thus hurt, injured, and pa.s.sed over; we now see what all this has led to. I have nothing to say against the rights of merit and talent," she continued, "history teaches us that great field marshals have been found among common soldiers, but people should not be pushed forward who have no talent and whose only merit is courage, simply because they are not of distinguished birth! And now they make the aristocracy answerable for the defeat. Count Clam"s treatment is an insult to the whole of the Austrian aristocracy."
"You must not look upon it in that light, countess," said General von Reischach; "on the contrary, I think the proceedings against Count Clam Gallas will stop all evil mouths, for it will be an excellent opportunity for stating the real causes of our defeat. When public opinion, led on by a couple of journalists, had loaded the count with reproaches, he was right in demanding a strict investigation, and it was Mensdorff"s duty to urge it upon the emperor. Let us wait the result, it will show that the Austrian n.o.bility is above reproach."
"It is very hard," cried the countess, "to be so personally affected by the common misfortune!" And she wiped the tears that had again flowed, with her handkerchief.
"Tell us, Baron Reischach," said Countess Frankenstein, after a short pause, wishing to give the conversation a different turn; "tell us about the King of Hanover, you once held a command in his service. I have the greatest admiration for that heroic prince, and the deepest commiseration for his unhappy fate."
"It is wonderful," said the general, "with what resignation and cheerfulness the king bears his evil fortune, and the difficult position he is now placed in. He is still full of hope; I fear it deceives him!"
"Do you believe they will really venture to dethrone him?" cried the Countess Frankenstein.
"Alas! I am quite sure of it," said General von Reischach.
"And I, alas! cannot doubt it, from what Mensdorff has told me," said Countess Clam Gallas.
"And must Austria bear this?" cried Countess Frankenstein, a bright flush of auger upon her usually calm face, and her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Austria bears everything, and will have to bear still more!" said the general, shrugging his shoulders. "I see before us a long course of misfortune, they will again experiment, and every fresh experiment will pluck a jewel from our crown and a leaf from our laurels; I fear they will pursue the path of Joseph II."
"G.o.d protect Austria!" cried Countess Frankenstein, folding her hands.
"Will the King of Hanover remain here?" she asked, after a short pause.
"It seems so," replied General von Reischach, "he lives in Baron Knesebeck"s house, in the Wallnerstra.s.se, Countess Wilezek has given him up her apartments; but I have heard he will soon retire to the Duke of Brunswick"s villa at Hietzing. It would be much better for the king to go to England, he is by birth an English prince, and if he succeeded in interesting public opinion there in his behalf, which with his charm of manner would not be difficult, England would perhaps help him, and she is the only power who could help him; but he is disinclined, and Count Platen appears very incapable of persuading the king to take any decided course."
"Count Platen visited me," said Countess Clam Gallas; "he does not believe in the annexation of Hanover."
"There are people who never believe in the devil, until he has got them by the throat," cried Baron von Reischach: "there is General Brandis, a plain old soldier, with a quick clear understanding, he would be much the best counsellor for the king in a position in which rapid and firm decision can alone avail, but he is not supported by Platen."
"How many disasters a few days have brought forth!" cried Countess Frankenstein.
"Well," said General von Reischach, as he rose, "you must console yourself with the happiness that blooms in your family; I would bet anything," he added, laughing, "that Countess Clara"s thoughts are filled with pleasant pictures."
The young countess started from her dreams, a flying blush pa.s.sed over her face, and she said, laughingly,--
"What can you know about young ladies" thoughts?"
"I know so much about them," replied the general, "that I should not venture now to bring my little countess a doll, she must have one in a green uniform with a red plume."
"I want neither dolls nor anything else from you," replied the young countess, pretending to pout.
General von Reischach and Countess Clam Gallas took leave.
Countess Frankenstein and her daughter accompanied them to the door, and had only been a few moments alone when a servant entered and said:
"There is a gentleman here, who asks very pressingly for an interview with the countess."
"Who is it?" she asked, with surprise, for she had few visitors except those belonging to her own exclusive circle of society.