"We will, perhaps, find means to delay the marriage," said Moritz proudly, "or, much more, prevent the marriage ceremony."

"I am very curious to know the means," said Frau von Werrig. "From this hour Marie is the betrothed of Herr Ebenstreit, and the wedding will take place so soon--"

"So soon as the t.i.tle of n.o.bility is published. That is it, is the clause to be filled; and therefore I tell you, beloved, wait and hope!

This woman is without pity and without mercy; but G.o.d is in heaven, and Frederick the Great on the earth. Wait and hope. Be firm in hope, and constant in love. Do not lose courage, and let them force you to compliance by threats and anger. I have only you to confide in and to love in the world, and you are my hope, my goal, and the happiness of my life. If you forsake me, I lose my good angel, and am a lost, miserable man, whom it would be better to hurl into the deepest abyss than let him suffer the torments of hated existence. The knowledge of your love gives me strength and courage; it will inspire me to fight like a hero, to win the dear, beloved wife, to whom I would yield my life in order to receive it anew from her purified and sanctified. The knowledge that I had lost you, would ruin me."

Laying both hands upon his shoulder, Marie looked at him with eyes beaming with affection, renewing her vow that she would never love or marry another. "We will be courageous in hope, and brave in constancy.

Listen to me, my beloved; listen, my mother--I betrothed myself to this dear man! You can prevent my becoming his wife now, but in four years I am of age, and then I shall be my own mistress. Then, my dear Philip, I will be your wife. Let us wait and hope!"

"Yes, Marie, we will wait and hope.--Farewell! Do not forget that there is a great G.o.d in heaven, and a great king upon earth.--Farewell!"

He pressed the hand clasped in his own pa.s.sionately to his tips, and felt from the pressure of her delicate fingers a renewed vow of constancy. Buoyed with this hope in the sad hour of parting, they were happy and joyful. Marie accompanied him to the door--still hand in hand.

"Presume not to go a step farther," commanded her mother, and Marie, obedient to her wishes, remained near the door, bowed to Moritz, and never ceased to regard him, with love beaming in her eyes, until the door closed. Outside stood old Trude, to tell him that she would be at the baker's at seven o'clock every morning, and wait for his commissions, "and may be I shall have something to bring you," she said.

"So do come!"

"I will, my good Trude; you are the only person who is friendly to us.

Watch over my angel, console her with your affection, and when they are too hard upon her, come to me."

"I surely will, but listen--they are already quarrelling with my good angel. I will go in, to serve as a lightning-rod for dear Marie. I often do it, and it pleases me when the lightning strikes, and dashes my hard old head to the ground, but does not hurt me at all--Farewell, Herr Moritz, the lightning-rod must go in."

Trude entered suddenly and noiselessly the sitting-room, and interrupted the angry reproaches which Frau von Werrig hurled against Marie in a furious stream of words. The countess's rage turned against Trude, who stared as if to challenge her. "What do you want? How dare you enter uncalled?"

"I thought you were calling deaf old Trude, or why did you scream so?"

replied Trude, tartly.

"Perhaps it was the general. Ah! there lies the poor, dear old man, groaning and crying, and n.o.body has any pity for him."

"Ah! Trude, it is good luck that you are here," whined the general. "No one troubles himself about me. Quick, bring warm covering for my leg, the pain is fearful!"

"Poor, dear father, I will take care of you, I will nurse you," said Marie, hastening to him. Her mother pushed her back violently. "Not a step farther; you have no right to go near him, you are his murderess.

On your head will fall the guilt, if these dreadful scenes should cause his death."

"No, no, the general will not die quite yet," said Trude busying herself about his arm-chair. "But, Fraulein, you have got something else to do than stay here. They have already sent for the flowers twice, and the French lady is waiting up-stairs to parlez-vous."

Marie looked her friendly thanks, and quietly and quickly left the room.

"Now, bold woman, I have a last word to say to you. Who locked the door when that creature came?" "I, madame," answered Trude, who was just bringing a great cushion from the back-room to cover the general's feet.

"You acknowledge that you locked the door intentionally?"

"Now, my dear, good Frau von Werrig, one does not lock a door by mistake. I did not want Herr Moritz to run away with fright, before you had given him your mind, and set his head straight. He would certainly have escaped, and only heard the half of your beautiful talk, for he had no idea what a miserable fellow he is. So I locked both doors, and he was obliged to listen to you, and has gone away contrite and repentant.

There, there, my poor, dear general, is your foot high enough? Shall I not bring the foot-warmer?"

"You shall not bring any thing, nor do any thing more. You are a hypocrite, who connives with Moritz. Leave my house this very hour! You are dismissed my service. Go pack up your things and be off!" cried Frau von Werrig.

"Oh, do not go, Trude, for mercy's sake, for then I have no one to help me," cried the general.

"I cannot do otherwise, she has given me my dismissal." Trude approached Frau von Werrig respectfully, saying, "So I must pack up and go away at once?"

"Immediately, you deceitful creature!"

"Immediately! but Frau von Werrig will be so good as to give me my wages."

"Yes," she answered in a slower and more subdued voice. "That shall be done presently."

"It will not be so very difficult to reckon them, I have been here twenty years; just as many years as Marie is old, for I came as child's nurse, and have helped her learn to talk and walk, and played mother to the dear child a bit. Then I obtained my wages, for they were good times; but the pension-time came, and we had no cook or servant but me.

'The rats run away if the ship springs a leak,' but the old mole Trude stayed. Mankind is in the world to work, I said, and why should not I be the cook and waiting-maid too, that my little Marie should not want any thing? So I became maid-of-all-work and have stayed here ever since.

Then, you told me you would double my wages, and give me twenty thalers a year, and four thalers at Christmas. Is it not so, Frau von Werrig?"

"I believe that was the agreement."

"I am quite certain about it," cried the general, who began to understand the drift of Trude. "Yes, Trude was to have twenty thalers a year, and we are owing her many years' wages. You know, wife, I have always kept an account-book for the debts, and only a few days ago--Oh!

oh! the pain! Trude, help me cover up the foot warmer!--we reckoned it up a few days ago, and we owe Trude one hundred and thirty thalers."

"One hundred and thirty thalers," repeated Trude, clapping her hands, astonished. "Is it true? oh, that is splendid. I shall be rich, and get a husband yet. I pray you give it to me, Frau von Werrig, right away."

"Not so quickly," said she, proudly. "We will reckon together how much you have saved--because--"

"Oh!" interrupted Trude, "how good you are to make me keep so much; you are my savings bank, where I can deposit my money."

"Because," she continued, with emphasis, without noticing the interruption, "our future son-in-law will pay your wages, the rich banker, Herr Ebenstreit. Yes, the wealthy lover of our daughter. At the moment I have not so much cash in the house."

"Your grace will allow me to stay until Herr Ebenstreit is married, and, in your name, pays me my wages?"

"Yes, Trude, I will allow you to stay," she replied, very graciously.

"You will be cunning, Trude, if you try to persuade Marie to accept the rich suitor, for when she does I will give you two hundred thalers."

"I will do all I can to get it. Can I remain here until Marie is married?"

"Yes, you have my permission for that."

"I thank you, Frau von Werrig. Now, general, I will bring you some warm coverings right away."

CHAPTER XVI. CHARLES AUGUSTUS AND GOETHE.

"Now tell me, Wolf," asked Duke Charles Augustus, stretching himself comfortably on the sofa, puffing clouds of smoke from his pipe--"are you not weary of dawdling about in this infamously superb pile of stones, called Berlin? Shall we any longer elegantly sc.r.a.pe to the right and to the left, with abominable sweet speeches and mere flattering phraseology, in this monster of dust and stone, of sand and sun, parades and gaiters? Have you not enough of bl.u.s.tering generals, of affected women? and of running about the streets like one possessed to see here a miserable church, or there a magnificent palace? Are you not weary of crawling about as one of the many, while at home you stride about as the only one of the many? And weary also of seeing your friend and pupil Carl August put off with fair promises and hollow speeches like an insignificant, miserable mortal, without being able to answer with thundering invectives. Ah! breath fails me. I feel as if I could load a pistol with myself, and with a loud report shoot over to dear Weimar.

Wolf, do talk, I beg you, I am tired out; answer me."

"I reply, I shoot, my dear Carl," cried Goethe, laughing. "I was out of breath myself from that long speech. Was it original with my dear prince, or did he memorize it from Klinger's great 'Sturm-und-Drang'

tragedy? It reminded me of it."

"Do you mean to accuse me of plagiarism, wicked fellow? I grant that you are right, my cunning Wolf, it was a lapsus. I did think of Klinger, and I sympathized with his youthful hero Wild, who declared that, among the sweetest pleasures, he would like to be stretched over a drum, or exist in a pistol-barrel, the hand ready to blow him into the air."