She rose and went to her rosewood writing-table. She took a packet of letters from one compartment and began to read them attentively.

Several she threw back; at last she seemed to have found what she sought. It was a short note only, written on a single sheet.

"He wrote me this during the man[oe]uvres," said she; "this will serve me."

She read:--

"My sweet queen,

"I must tell you in a few words how my heart longs for you, and how much I feel this separation. All day I am interested, and hard at work at my duty, but when at night I lie down in bivouac, the stars above me, and the soft breath of night sighing around, then your sweet image dwells in my heart; I seem to feel your breath; I open my arms seeking to embrace you; and when at last sleep weighs down my eyelids, you are with me in my dreams. Oh, that the unmelodious trumpet must destroy such heavenly visions! I would ever dream until I am again with you, and find with you a sweeter reality. I kiss this paper, so soon to touch your lovely hands."

While she read her voice was soft, and she gazed at the letter lost in recollections.

Then again her features grew cold and hard.

"This will do perfectly," said she; "and no date; excellent!"

She seized a pen, and after considering the handwriting for a few moments, she wrote at the commencement of the letter--"June 30th, 1866."

She looked attentively at her writing.

"Yes," she said, "it will pa.s.s capitally."

She rang a small silver bell. Her maid entered.

"Find my husband," said Madame Balzer, "and tell him I wish to speak to him immediately."

The maid withdrew, and the young lady walked thoughtfully to the window, carelessly looking down on the excited crowds below, whilst a slight smile of satisfaction played on her lips.

CHAPTER XVII.

DEFEAT.

Gloomy silence prevailed in the Hofburg. In the midst of the rejoicings at the Italian victory the annihilating thunderbolt had fallen, ruining all hopes of success in Bohemia, and destroying in a moment the blind confidence that had been placed in Field-Marshal Benedek and his operations. It was as if a sudden stupefaction had come on everyone.

The attendants glided slowly and sadly through the long corridors, and scarcely said the few words necessary for the fulfilment of their duties. Immediately after receiving the intelligence of the lost battle, the emperor had sent Count Mensdorff to Benedek's head-quarters, that, being himself a soldier, he might judge of the condition of affairs; he then withdrew into his own apartments, and only the adjutant-general had access to him.

Deep silence reigned in the imperial ante-room. The life guardsman stood quietly before the emperor's door; the equerry on duty, Baron Fejervary de Komlos, leant silently against the window and looked at the groups below, as they formed and again dispersed after grave whispered converse. There were often looks cast upwards to the windows of the castle, as though they longed for fresh news--for something decided, to remove their load of anxiety.

The regular ticking of the great old clock was heard, marking as calmly these saddest moments to the House of Hapsburg as it had proclaimed during its greatest splendour that all yielded to the inexorable scythe of Time. For Time goes on with equal pace during the flying moments of happiness and during the creeping hours of the blackest day, only in the rush of happiness his iron footstep is unheard, whilst in the sad stillness of misfortune "_memento mori_" sounds on every ear, and calls to each one of us from the bosom of the solemn vanished past.

Thus was it here. The guardsman and the equerry had often performed their duty in this very room, with their hearts full of joyful thoughts of the world without; and all those hours had vanished from their recollection, or had melted together in a blurred picture; but these hours, these still, dark hours, with the slow stroke of the heavy pendulum marking their lingering seconds, were buried deep in their memory for ever.

The Adjutant-General Count Crenneville entered. He was accompanied by the Hanoverian amba.s.sador, General von Knesebeck, dressed in the full uniform of a Hanoverian general, and followed by the King of Hanover's equerry, Major von Kohlrausch, a simple soldier-like man, with a short black moustache and a bald head.

General von Knesebeck, the tall, stately man who had moved with so firm and proud a step through Count Mensdorff's salons, now stooped in his walk. Sorrow and mourning lay on his grave regular features, and without speaking a word he saluted the equerry on duty.

"Will you announce me, dear baron?" said Count Crenneville to Baron von Fejervary.

He entered the imperial apartment, and returning immediately, signified to the adjutant-general by a respectful movement that the emperor awaited him.

Count Crenneville entered the cabinet of Francis Joseph.

The emperor again wore a large grey military cloak. He sat bending over his writing-table; pens, papers, and letters lay untouched before him; there were no signs of the restless industry of a sovereign who never allowed an hour to pa.s.s idly. It was not grief which the excited, wearied countenance of the emperor wore, it was comfortless, dull despair.

Crenneville looked sadly at his sovereign thus weighed down with sorrow, and said, with deep emotion,--

"I beg your imperial majesty not to yield to the sad impression of this disastrous news. We all--all Austria looks to her emperor. No misfortune is so great that a strong will and a resolute courage cannot amend it; and if your majesty despairs, what will the army--what will the people do?"

The emperor slowly raised his wearied eyes and pa.s.sed his hand over his brow as if to ease it of a load of thought.

"You are right," he answered mournfully. "Austria expects from me courage and decision, and truly," he cried, raising his head, whilst an angry flash darted from his eyes, "courage I have, might I but face the enemy's fire, and if my personal courage could procure success, victory should not fail the banners of Austria! But must I not believe that I am ordained to misfortune, that my sceptre must bring destruction upon Austria? Have I not done everything to procure success? have I not placed at the head of the troops a man whom the army and the nation considered the most competent? And now?--beaten!" cried he vehemently, with tears in his eyes, "beaten after so haughty, so bold an attack, beaten by this enemy who during the last century has seized on my ancestral inheritance in Germany, an enemy whom I hoped to overthrow for ever. What avails me the victory in Italy, if I lose Germany? oh!

it is hard!"

And the emperor supported his head in both his hands whilst a deep sigh heaved his breast.

Count Crenneville came a step nearer.

"Your majesty!" said he, "all is not yet lost. Mensdorff will perhaps bring us good news; the battle must have cost the enemy much, perhaps all may still be well."

The emperor let his hands sink down and looked at the count for some time.

"My dear Crenneville!" he then said, gravely and slowly, "I will tell you something which has never been so clear to me as at this moment. Do you know," he said dreamily, "what great characteristic of my family carried Hapsburg and Austria through all the hardest times? It was its tenacity, its tough indestructible tenacity, that bent beneath the blows of misfortune, without for a moment losing sight of the aim for which to suffer, to wait, to conquer. Go to past history, look up the darkest, heaviest times, you will find in all my ancestors proofs of unconquerable endurance, and you will find too that this characteristic was their salvation. This tenacity," he continued after a short silence, "this Hapsburg endurance, in me is wanting, and that is my misfortune. Joy bears me on his light pinions high as the heavens, large views of life fill me with mighty inspiration, but even so the heavy hand of misfortune dashes me to the ground. I can fight, I can sacrifice myself, but I cannot bear, I cannot wait--oh! I cannot wait!"

he cried, with a look of horror.

Then suddenly he raised his head, he pressed his beautiful teeth lightly on the full under lip and said, the princely pride of the Hapsburg kindling in his eyes,--

"You are right, Count Crenneville, I must not yield to weakness; forget that you have seen me weak so long; is the misfortune great?--we must be greater than misfortune!"

"The heavier the blow, the more deeply it affects your heart, so much the more I admire the bold courage which your majesty now, as ever, regains. I rejoice the more," added the count, "that your imperial majesty is superior to disaster, as the Amba.s.sador General Knesebeck has just requested an audience; he bears the heavy blow which has fallen on his master well and chivalrously!"

"The poor king," cried the emperor, "he has bravely defended his rights, and he now expects from me help and protection! All those princes," he continued gloomily, "who a.s.sembled around me in the old imperial hall at Frankfort, how shall I appear before them after this shameful defeat!" And again he sank into brooding thought.

"Your majesty!" cried Count Crenneville in a low, imploring tone.

The emperor stood up.

"Bring General von Knesebeck in!"

The adjutant-general hastened to the door, and a moment afterwards returned with General von Knesebeck, and Major von Kohlrausch.

The emperor walked towards the general and held out his hand with much emotion.

"You bring sad news, my dear general; I am filled with admiration for your royal master, and I deeply deplore that such great heroism could not command a happier result. Alas! you have found little to console you here," he added with a visible effort; and then as if unwilling to pursue the painful subject, he turned a look of enquiry towards Major von Kohlrausch.