The emperor paused here, and no one remarked that this behavior on the part of comets is not unusual. Then he continued, "Until my son was twelve years of age I thought he was going to be either a mute or a fool. There was no sign of any but a very ordinary grade of intelligence, and I lost faith in the glorious predictions regarding him that I had read in the heavens. He learned his lessons only after a series of floggings, and I feared that my realm was to be governed by a weakling. But why should I have doubted the a.s.surance given me by the planets? My son came out of his stupidity as from a dream, and he is now one of the most learned of men. He can address the amba.s.sadors of eight different countries, each in his own language; he can dictate a number of letters at once, each in a different tongue. And the stars have said that Austria will become the mistress of the world."

Although we know that the old emperor left a writing to the effect that his country would exceed all others in greatness, the prediction did not come true, showing that the stars frequently make mistakes.

The visitors examined the contents of the laboratory with great interest. The shelves contained all sorts of bottles and retorts, and the vessels in which he stirred his mixtures were marked with a red cross to keep out the demon, who, it was believed, had an inconvenient and impertinent way of meddling with such things.

[Ill.u.s.tration: He popped the rose into a jar]

The Lady Marguerite held in her hand a red rose, which was given to her by the head gardener, and which, being of a rare variety, was greatly cherished by that functionary, and thought to be a suitable gift, even for a princess. The emperor reached out his hand for the rose, and taking it from her, he popped it into a jar, where it soon became as white as snow. Then, taking it out again, he said, "It would be a pity to spoil a lady's flower," and throwing it into another jar, it became its own rich red again.

This feat seemed almost a miracle to the four spectators who witnessed it, though a chemist to-day would think nothing of it. To make sugar and alcohol out of an old linen shirt, to make all the colors of the rainbow, to say nothing of medicines and perfumes, and a substance many times sweeter than sugar, out of a thing so black and sticky and generally unpromising as coal tar, are a few of the feats accomplished by the chemists of our own time, but which would have made the alchemists of Frederick's day gasp for breath.

"Here," said the emperor, taking up a long slender vial, "is a specific for many ailments, which I have succeeded in making out of a few drops of water. And here," he went on, taking up a yellow piece of parchment covered with hieroglyphics and strange characters, "is a recipe which came to me from the Orient, and said to have been greatly prized by Hermes Tris-me-gistus." He drew out the long name to its fullest extent, and Le Glorieux whispered to Antoine, "Is it not strange that at his age he can remember such things? If I had a friend of that name and wanted to write him a letter, I could never do it in this world, for by the time I had written the first part of the name I would have forgotten the last of it. Yet this old man rattles it off as easily as if he were telling what he would like for breakfast. It must be because the Germans are used to such long words that nothing in that line staggers them."

"This tells how to make gold," said the emperor, regarding the parchment with great satisfaction. "It begins, 'Catch the flying bird and drown it that it may fly no more.' You would be puzzled at the meaning of that sentence, would you not?" he asked, turning with a superior smile to his audience, all of whom murmured a respectful affirmative, save Le Glorieux, who said, "I should say it was directions as to how to prepare a fowl for the spit. Though I should advise cutting its head off, which is a much quicker and more respectable way than to drown it."

"Ha, ha!" cackled the old emperor. "Wiser men than yourself, Fool, might think the same thing. 'The flying bird' means quicksilver, which is very easy to change into gold."

"Since he knows so well how to make gold, I wonder why he is so stingy,"

whispered the jester to Antoine. The latter shook his head and made no reply, this being a problem too deep for him to solve.

"But the making of gold," went on Frederick, "is attended with great danger. Nature is very jealous of her riches, and conceals her precious metals in the most inaccessible spots, and in trying to make it we are likely to meet with a terrible explosive."

The emperor took a ring from his finger set with a large diamond. "This stone," said he, "is called the 'indomitable one,' for it is the hardest of all. It is the most beautiful of gems, for it has the flash of the emerald, the gleam of the sapphire, and the glow of the ruby. Around the origin of this stone Nature has woven a mystery; she has allied it to charcoal and other black substances. But I can make it by adding colors to pebbles, as I can make rubies, emeralds, and sapphires."

"Did you make the stone in your ring, Grandfather?" asked the princess innocently.

"No," replied the emperor.

"Why does he not show us one that he _has_ made?" whispered Le Glorieux to Antoine, and it certainly seemed as if the proof of this statement should be forthcoming, since, "_If_ Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers, _where_ is the peck of pickled peppers that Peter Piper picked?" But a writer of his time a.s.sures us that Frederick actually made precious stones out of pebbles, so he must have been content to take the emperor's word for it.

"Here," said the royal alchemist, taking up a second scroll of yellow parchment, "is another formula which caused me much trouble and expense to procure. It tells how to make thunder and lightning."

The emperor, with his profound knowledge of the heavens and the secrets of the earth, was an object of too much awe to Le Glorieux to be joked with, as he was in the habit of doing, but he said to Philibert as they left their august host, "Of course, it may be a great pleasure to know how to make thunder and lightning, and a man who is fond of excitement and tired of a quiet life might do it sometimes just to amuse himself.

But, speaking for myself, I do not think I should like to mix up such a mess, at least not often."

It was in that same year that the emperor died, leaving Maximilian ruler in name as he had been for some time in fact. He was in possession of the domains of the Hapsburgs, as well as those of the Dukes of Burgundy, and he was served by kings and electors. Still, in spite of his exalted position, he did not become cold and forbidding in his manner, remaining frank and affable as he had been before. Writers have criticised him for his friendly ways, but after all is it not better for a ruler to be the darling of his people than always to be on his dignity, afraid to show a little human friendliness and good feeling?

The year after Maximilian became emperor he was united in marriage to Bianca Sforza, an Italian lady. When this marriage was first mentioned Le Glorieux said to the Lady Marguerite, "I can learn nothing about your new mother save that she is high-tempered, and fond of a certain kind of sh.e.l.lfish. It seems to me there ought to be something more to say about a woman than just that!"

The princess accepted her new mother as a matter of course. This marriage was an affair of mere business; the emperor needed money with which to fight Charles the Eighth of France, and money he would obtain by his marriage with this lady, who was far inferior to her predecessor, Mary of Burgundy, both in education and beauty. Although Frederick had claimed to have discovered the secret of turning quicksilver into gold, he did not seem to have left the recipe behind him, for the purse of his son was always gaunt and longing to be filled.

The Lady Clotilde had not returned to France, as it had been her intention to do; she had found that the climate of Austria agreed with her health to a degree little short of marvelous. She said that there were certain viands that she would not dare to touch in Burgundy, Brittany, or France, but which in the German empire did her all the good in the world. Of course, she was going away soon, next month, or surely the month after; but still the Lady Clotilde lingered on.

Philibert, finding greater advantages here for a young gentleman of rank than in his own country, also remained. It seemed that the Count de Bresse, his father, absorbed in his own schemes--and they were not always innocent ones--had almost forgotten that he owned a son, and the boy was well contented to be thus neglected, being perfectly happy in his new surroundings. In those days nations were almost continually engaged in some kind of turmoil, either fighting each other or trying to make peace, and Austria had its share of such proceedings; but at this time the princ.i.p.al characters of this story saw only the pleasant side of life. Antoine became more and more proficient in his music; Philibert became quite scholarly at the court of this emperor, who surrounded himself with scholars; Le Glorieux amused himself and everybody else, while the princess was put under the care of her tutors, and, taking a leaf from her father's book, was always affable and gracious to her inferiors.

CHAPTER IX

PHILIBERT IN DANGER

Three years had pa.s.sed. Philibert and Antoine now were tall youths, and Marguerite was a slender, graceful maiden of fifteen.

"I am sorry that she is growing up," said Cunegunda to Le Glorieux.

"Then am I to infer that you are fond of dwarfs?" asked he.

"No, but do you not see that as soon as she becomes a woman she must marry?"

"Most women do," he returned, "and most of them are equally discontented, whether they do or do not."

"And small wonder, since they must marry men," said Cunegunda. Le Glorieux could always throw her into a temper. "I did not marry again, and I am not discontented," she added.

"I have no doubt that you have made many a man discontented by refusing them right and left," said the fool politely.

Cunegunda smiled, but looked serious again as she said dolefully, "Our princess must marry and go to live in a strange land. How I wish that she were merely the child of a n.o.bleman instead of being the daughter of the emperor; then she could remain in Austria. Now she must go away."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Something about me makes you cry"]

"You are getting ready to cry again," said the jester, in an injured tone. "I am supposed to make people laugh. Even his Majesty laughs at me. But there seems to be something about me that makes you cry. If you will tell me what it is I will change it, both for your benefit and my own. That you can not see the point of a joke, no matter if it is as big as my head, is perhaps not your fault; but it seems to me that you might keep from bursting into tears every time you see me or hear the jingle of my bells."

Philibert de Bresse approached; he was dressed in all the grandeur of the time, and a fine sword hung by his side. "What is the trouble with Dame Cunegunda?" he asked.

"Nothing in particular," replied the fool, "save that she wants our princess to marry a hair-dresser, or some person of the kind."

"I said nothing about a hair-dresser, and you know it!" snapped the indignant woman. "I do not want my little lady to go away to a strange country. I am now past middle age, and I am attached to my own land and do not want to leave it."

"I was not aware that the emperor was arranging a foreign match for you," remarked Le Glorieux.

Deeming this piece of satire too trivial to notice, Cunegunda said, "I must go with my lady wherever she goes, for so I promised her mother."

"Is that promise to hold good until she is ninety?" asked Le Glorieux.

"It is to hold good as long as there is breath in my body, and she does not forbid me to accompany her."

"But there is no danger--I mean there is no prospect of the Lady Marguerite's making a foreign marriage?" asked Philibert hastily.

"I am very much inclined to believe that there is," replied Le Glorieux.

"If nothing of the kind happens soon, it will not be the fault of that dark-browed Spanish envoy, Don Juan Manuel. He is quiet and cold, but he is always thinking. Not that most people are not always thinking when they are quiet, for few people's brains are swept quite empty of thoughts, but his thinking counts for something. He knows quite well what he is about, does Manuel. He is always talking to our emperor, who listens with a great deal of attention to all that he says, and whatever it is, it will be a good thing for Spain, you can make up your mind to that."

"And who is this Spaniard who has so much influence over the Emperor of Austria?" asked Philibert hotly. "He is a n.o.body, an ordinary Castilian, who managed to attract the attention of the Queen of Spain, afterward gaining her confidence when he became her secretary."

"Well, that he did gain her confidence, and that he has a good deal of influence over Max, is a fact nevertheless," returned the fool. "The young Prince of the Asturias is of the right age to marry, and will be a suitable match for our princess, and, so far as I am concerned, I am perfectly willing that they should marry, for I think that I should like to live in Spain. The climate is very fine, there would not be so much trouble in keeping warm as there is here, and I am fond of oranges."

"The Spanish match is not made yet, and how do you know that the Lady Marguerite would take you with her, even if she should go to Spain?"

asked Cunegunda disdainfully.