Adelaide of Brunswick/Chapter Three
CHAPTER THREE
Several months passed thus without the marquis' being able to talk to the one he adored and without Adelaide's being able to give him any consoling message. One noticed at court the sombre and care-worn look which had been present for some time on the face of the ruler and everybody attempted to interpret this crisis in his feelings. As in all courts the face of the monarch is the thermometer of the status of affairs.
Everybody knew that the count had frequent interviews with his master, but as nothing happened, it was impossible to form any kind of conjecture. The delays of a second interview were beginning to make Thuringia uneasy when one day Mersburg came to reassure him.
"Tomorrow, in the same place where you have already seen each other," he said to the marquis, "the princess will wait for you at sunset. Be exactly on time and do not fear anything. I have seen the prince several times since your last rendezvous, and for a while his suspicions seemed to be increasing. I don't know whether the shadow you saw was that of a person placed there to surprise you or not; but in any case, I have calmed the ideas of the prince, and I believe that he has recovered completely from his former fears."
"Was I the object of these fears?" the marquis asked.
"No. His suspicions were vague. They were not directly concerned with any person."
"And you have calmed him?"
"Completely. You can be entirely tranquil about tomorrow, but you must be exactly on time. Let Adelaide arrive first. The watches will call out six o'clock just as she arrives in the little clump of woods. You must arrive exactly a quarter of an hour later. She will explain to you the reasons for this precaution. They must be important because she has insisted very much on the necessity of having you on time."
Louis promised to be exact in everything; but suddenly the next day an event quite different from what he expected caused a sudden stir in the chateau. Just as he was about to leave for the rendezvous, the information came that Adelaide had been arrested and taken to the chateau of Torgau, a town situated on the banks of the Elbe at ten leagues from Leipsig. No reason for this severe act was given; no circumstances were cited to explain it. Frederick simply told the lords of the court that some political reasons forced him to resort to such an action which was extremely painful to him since his love for the princess was so intense. He said that only his duty to Saxony could cause him to take such extreme measures.
It is easy to imagine the condition of the marquis on learning of this frightful news.
"You are the cause of this misfortune," he said to Mersburg. "Either you have been mistaken in this whole thing, or you have deceived me. What proof do I have of all that you have told me? By a guilty imprudence you have thrown the princess into the trap, and I even suspect that you did it on purpose."
"Marquis," said the count calmly, "I know that misfortune makes you unjust, but don't carry your emotions, I beg of you, to the point of forgetting the circumstances. I know most of the secrets of the prince, and he is not jealous of you. Some other man has come into this in some manner which has not yet been explained. This man was at the rendezvous which had been arranged for you. He is the one, perhaps, that you caught a glimpse of at the other meeting. The guilty man's name is Kaunitz, and his sudden disappearance leads one to suspect that the prince has already had his vengeance on him. It seems entirely possible that he has been assassinated."
"But did Adelaide love this man?" cried the marquis with the greatest uneasiness.
"That is how jealousy reasons! Kaunitz must have found out about the rendezvous and went there to spy on the two of you, and the lightning which was supposed to strike the one loved by the princess fell on the spy."
"Then you think Adelaide is innocent?"
"Ungrateful one, how could you doubt it?"
"Let's hurry to deliver her. The dagger which struck Kaunitz may fall on her. Dear count, we do not have a moment to lose!"
"This precipitation might spoil everything. You must be careful to preserve yourself from suspicions. Do not have them fall on you, since they do not weigh on you now. I am the only one who can help you to achieve what you want, but since you no longer trust me, perhaps I should not bother about helping you."
"Ah, my dear count, I have never accused you of anything; it is only misfortune which I blame. Can you think of any harder luck than we have had?When are we going to release Adelaide? With whom is she now? Upon what does her fate depend? And how can Frederick make people believe that the one who has just served the state so well could be guilty of betraying it? They will imagine all sorts of things and will dishonor the purest of women. On top of all the sorrow I have, I will have the shame of seeing the glory of my beloved tarnished by vile tongues and not be able to defend her."
"Let's deliver her, my friend. As soon as she is free you will be in a better position to help her."
"Where could I take her? That would be robbing her forever of the right of occupying the throne on which destiny has placed her."
"Frederick could declare that she is innocent."
"Such an act would be of value to someone who was guilty, but would only hurt someone who was innocent … Who commands the Chateau of Torgau?"
"A man who has taken part in many of the wars of the Empire. His daughter, who is young and intelligent, has been charged with keeping the princess company."
"How can we get her out of there?"
"Easier than you think."
"You are right about my not doing anything to get her out. I should neither protea nor direa her escape, since I am believed innocent and should maintain that feeling towards me.
"Let's separate," said the count suddenly, "I see that people are looking at us. Let's postpone this important discussion." Louis went away to dream about his misfortunes and Mersburg went in to see the prince.
"Well," said Frederick, "was I wrong to give myself up to the torments of jealousy?"
"It would appear that you were right, Milord, but never would I have suspected the one whom you honor with your love."
"Oh, my friend, the heart of woman is inexplicable; it is a labyrinth in which the one who thinks he knows the way is certain to be lost. I adored this woman, and she betrayed me. I thought she was frank and sincere, and there was nothing in her except imposture and lying. It was because of her reputation for virtue that I brought her to my throne, and that is how I have been recompensed. That Kaunitz … who could have believed it? That young man on whom I had heaped favors. Whom can princes trust? But tell me, my friend, had that intrigue lasted a long time? Did they love each other? Do you believe it?"
"If I had known anything about it, Your Highness, I would have told you about it long ago. I imagine that this young man is much more guilty than the princess. Is it not possible that he may have loved her without her responding to his passion?"
"But that rendezvous?"
"We do not have any proof that it was one. The princess was accustomed to going often to the bird house all alone. It may be that Kaunitz followed your wife without her having the least part in this meeting."
"But they have been discovered talking together."
"Only a few words, because there were only a few instants between the time when the young officer entered the bird house and the time when the guards arrested the two of them."
"But Kaunitz, when he was dying from the sword blow which I gave him, did not deny loving the princess."
"In that case, Your Highness was prudent in treating him so severely."
"In the first moments I was tempted to treat Adelaide in the same manner."
"And how you would have repented such an action. For you still adore the princess; the ardor of your sentiments cannot be concealed, and I dare to say that she is still worthy of this love."
"That is what torments me; that is what makes me despair. I cannot help suspecting her, and I want to stop loving her. Such is my state."
"But Milord, you must find out more about all this, and if your wife can explain these happenings should you not bring her back to you again?"
"But will she pardon my error? She will hate me, my dear count. I will only be, in her eyes, a tyrant, an object of fright. Does one excuse unjust punishment? And is she not marked with the seal of the gravest iniquity? The disorder of my ideas is such that I want to clear all this up and yet I fear to do so. What confusion if she is innocent! What despair if she is guilty! Mersburg, I want you to clear all that up. Leave for Torgau and bring her back with you if she is still worthy of me. Let her follow her perfidious lover to the grave if she has been unfaithful to me."
"Milord," said the count, "if you could only give me somebody to help me in this important mission."
"And whom should I send with you?"
"The Marquis of Thuringia, Milord. You gave him the mission of going to get your wife at Brunswick. I feel sure that he will bring her back from Torgau. The good fortune which crowned his first mission is an excellent omen for the second, and our choice cannot fall on a person who is more worthy than Thuringia."
"I consent to it," said Frederick, "I give you the power to instruct him of his new duty. His virtuous friendship for the princess must be sorely afflicted by all this. To speak to him about it would only increase my sorrows. You make all the arrangements with the marquis, and I approve in advance all that the two of you will do."
The count hurried to tell Louis about what the prince had just said to him.
"You will never accuse me again of not being your friend," he said to him. You are going to see the one you love, and bring her back to her husband. Can you think of a happier circumstance in the world?"
"Count," answered Thuringia, "in all you have just done you have thought more about helping a friend than you have about helping Adelaide. I am afraid that this act will compromise her more than ever, especially if it ever comes out that we love each other. I think it would be much better to have her escape rather than take her back to her husband; for if she leaves Saxony, I will still have some hope; but I will have no more as soon as she goes back to Frederick. I am guilty, without doubt, in admitting this, but wouldn't I be still more to be blamed in taking back the one I love to a jealous man who might treat her tomorrow as he treated the one whom he suspected of being her lover? I know all the laws of delicacy, but those of love are equally engraved in my heart, and I would be guilty of a serious infraction if I gave in to an arrangement which would put the sword at Adelaide's throat. Go alone, my dear Mersburg. Take my love to the one who creates for me the charm and the torments of life. In telling her of my refusal, tell her all the reasons which motivated it, and if you really want to serve me, please don't bring her here. Let her go back to the Duke of Brunswick, her father, and I will take care of the rest. From that moment my conduct towards her will cease to be embarrassing to me."
"Your ideas astonish me," said the count. "I didn't expect to see you reject what I had asked for you. However, in reflecting on your reasons, I find them very wise. One point embarrasses me, it is the desire that you have of not seeing the princess here. How do you expect me to persuade her to return to her father? I am leaving here with orders from Frederick and you want me to propose something to Adelaide which will not clear her name. It seems to me that it will be very difficult to make her agree to do anything which will compromise her honor."
"You must hide from her the indulgence, perhaps only temporary, of her husband. Think that her life depends on it, and we cannot hesitate a moment in hiding from her the orders with which you are charged."
"Perhaps you are right. Let her choose the hiding place she wishes, and I will try to get her there. I am going to try to do as you wish," continued Mersburg, "but whatever be the results of our efforts, never accuse me of neglecting your interests."
"Ah," said the Marquis of Thuringia, "I count too much on your friendship to fear it."
"Since Frederick had urged Mersburg to leave at once, the two friends separated without making any other plans. In a short time the marquis met the prince.
"Thuringia," he said as soon as he saw him, "I approve the motives which have caused you to refuse to accompany Mersburg. No suspicion is now on your head; but some of the gossips might have talked if you had gone with him."
"That is what has governed my conduct," said the marquis. "Will you permit me to say that you have acted very quickly in all this? It outrages the virtue of your wife. Such offenses are repaired with much difficulty, and nothing can be done for this unhappy Kaunitz whose life you have ended!"
"My friend," cried the prince, "there is something very queer in all that, something which I have just discovered. They said that he had admitted his love for Adelaide just as he died. I have discovered that this was not so and that he did not even mention my wife in his last sigh. He said that a mortal enemy was pursuing him and he was a victim as his poor mother had been. That was all he said. Who is this enemy? Do you know, Thuringia?"
"I don't know, Milord. It seems to me that the facts show more than ever how innocent your wife is."
"I believe it as you do."
"How terrible your remorse must be at this moment."
"Yes, my friend," said Frederick sinking into a chair. "It is frightful. How I would like to bring the unfortunate Kaunitz back to life."
"There is no use devoting your wishes to something which cannot be changed," said Thuringia, "rather think of repairing the damage done to the best and the most innocent of women." "Mersburg is trying to remedy the situation."
"I am afraid that your propositions will not appeal to a woman who must have been turned violently against you. Ah, my prince, it is often difficult to repair the damage once it has been done."
"Louis, do not torment me any more. I am the most unhappy of men and I have made my virtuous wife the most unfortunate of women."
"And what about the reason which you are giving for her disgrace? Do you think anybody is going to believe that after the sublime response which she has just made to the Emperor? The one who has dictated that letter is now accused of treason. You see, Frederick, how passion blinds and how it makes one do the worst of things. Oh, forgive me, Milord. Forgive me if I speak to you in this manner. My age and your rank should keep me from doing so; but when the heart is touched it is hard to be silent. It is from my heart that I have spoken and I hope you will pardon me for being so frank."
"Oh, my friend," said Frederick embracing the marquis, "may your good heart guide you better in all the circumstances in life than mine has guided me."