Ilse went through the rooms as if stupefied by their splendor, and endeavored to open the window to let in some fresh air, for the strong fragrance of the hyacinths threatened her with headache. Then came the Chamberlain, behind him the Marshal, who was also an urbane gentleman of very refined appearance; and both expressed their pleasure at seeing the Professor and his wife. They offered their services on all occasions, and pointed out from the windows the position of the pavilion. Suddenly the lackey threw open the folding-doors, announcing "His Highness, the Hereditary Prince."

The young gentleman walked slowly into the room. He bowed silently to Ilse, and gave his hand to the Professor. "My father has commissioned me to express to you his pleasure that you have fulfilled his wishes;"

and, turning to Ilse, he continued: "I trust that you will find the dwelling comfortable enough not to regret having left your residence at home."

Ilse looked with great pleasure at her Prince. He had, it appeared to her, grown a little. His demeanor was still rather depressed; but he had color in his cheeks, and it was clear that things were not amiss with him. The little moustache was stronger and became him well.

She replied, "I scarcely venture to turn round. It is like a fairy castle. One expects every moment that a spirit will spring from the wall and inquire whether one wishes to go through the air, or that four swans will stop at the window with a golden carriage. No chair is necessary to ascend to it, for the windows come down to the ground. The Park Street sends its greeting, and I give your Highness heartfelt thanks for the present which the Chamberlain sent me for the last Christmas-tree."

The Professor approached the Prince, mentioned to him the names of some of his colleagues, who had sent to him their kindest remembrances, and then begged him to express to his royal father his thanks for this hospitable reception.

Everything seemed to curl in ornamental scrolls. The lamps shone from the silver chandeliers, the hyacinths sent out sweet fragrance from every vase, the closed curtains gave the room a comfortable appearance, and on the frescoed ceiling a flying Cupid was represented holding a bunch of red poppies over the heads of the guests.

"To-day we will leave you to rest, as you must be tired," said the Prince, concluding the visit; and the Chamberlain promised to inform the Professor at an early hour the next morning when the Sovereign would receive him. Scarcely had the gentleman gone when a servant announced that dinner was served in the next room.

"Why, it is evening," said Ilse, shyly.

"Never mind," replied the Professor, "you have taken the first step.

Show good courage." He gallantly offered her his arm. The man in smart livery conducted them into the next room, and drew back the chairs of the richly-adorned table. There was no end of courses. In spite of Ilse's protest a superabundant dinner made its appearance, and she said, at last, "I must resign myself to everything. There is no use in struggling against these spirits. Whoever lives in a Prince's household must be bold enough to go through all."

When the dinner at last was carried away, and Ilse had been freed from her anxieties about Gabriel, she busily began arranging her things.

While she was unpacking she said to her husband, "This is a very charming welcome, Felix, and I now have real confidence that all will go well."

"Have you ever doubted it?" asked the Professor.

Ilse answered, "Up to this hour I have had a secret anxiety, I know not why, but it has now vanished; for the people here all seem so friendly and kindhearted."

As the Prince pa.s.sed through the gardens back to the castle the two cavaliers behind him conversed together.

"A charming woman," said the Marshal--"a beauty of the first order.

There is good blood there."

"She is in every respect a distinguished lady," replied the Chamberlain, aloud.

"You have already told me that once," replied the Marshal. "I congratulate you on this acquaintance from the University."

"How do you like the Professor?" asked the Chamberlain, turning the conversation.

"He appears to be a clever man," replied the Marshal, with indifference. "It is long since the pavilion has had such a beauty in it."

The Prince turned round, and he saw by the light of the large chandelier that the gentlemen exchanged looks with one another.

The Prince's carriage drove up. He entered it without saying a word to his companions, and drove to the opera. There he entered the ante-room of the royal box.

"How do the strangers like their abode at the pavilion?" asked the Sovereign, kindly.

"They are content with everything," replied his son; "but the rooms are damp, and would not be healthy for a prolonged stay."

"They were never considered so, as far as I recollect," replied the father, coldly, "and I hope you will be convinced of it." Then, turning to the Chamberlain, he said, "To-morrow, after breakfast, I wish to speak to Mr. Werner."

The Hereditary Prince went into the box to his sister, and seated himself silently at her side.

"Where are the places for the strangers?" asked the Princess.

"I do not know," replied her brother.

The Princess looked behind her inquiringly.

"The strangers' box is opposite," explained the Chamberlain; "but they have enough to do to-day settling themselves."

"What is the matter with you, Benno?" asked the sister, after the first act. "You cough."

"I have caught a little cold. It will pa.s.s."

After the theatre the Prince retired to his bedroom, and complained to Kruger of a headache and sore throat. When he was alone, he opened the window and looked across the pleasure-ground to the pavilion, the lights of which glimmered like stars in the night. He listened. Perhaps he might hear some sound from there. He found it warm, for he took off his necktie, and long stood motionless at the window, till the cool night air came into his room and the last light was extinguished. Then he closed his window gently and went to bed.

This was not prudent, for the Prince, whose health was easily affected, awoke the following morning with a severe cold. The doctor was hastily called, and the Prince was obliged to keep his bed.

When the indisposition of the Hereditary Prince was announced to his father, it put him in a bad humor. "Just now!" he exclaimed. "He has every misfortune unhealthy people are heir to." When, afterwards, the Professor was announced, the way in which he received the announcement was so cold and constrained that the Chamberlain felt very anxious about the reception of the Professor. The long habit, however, of receiving graciously, and the dignified bearing of the Professor, had a softening influence. After a few introductory words, the Sovereign began a conversation about Italy; and it appeared that the Professor was in correspondence with a distinguished literary Roman, who was one of the Sovereign's most intimate acquaintances when he was last in Italy. This gradually placed the Professor in quite a different light to the Sovereign. He had sent for him as a mere useful tool, but he now found he was a man who had claims to personal consideration, because he was known to others whose position was respected by the Sovereign. The Sovereign then asked how the matter of the lost ma.n.u.script stood, and smiled at the eager zeal of the Professor, when he told him of the new clue which he had found in the records.

"It would be well for you to prepare a memorial of the whole state of the affair, which will a.s.sist my memory, and add to it what help you wish from me or my officials."

The Professor was very grateful.

"I will not deny myself the pleasure of taking you to the museum,"

continued the Sovereign. "I shall thus see what a learned man, who is a thorough connoisseur, thinks of the quiet amus.e.m.e.nt of an amateur collector."

The doors flew open, the learned man entered the s.p.a.cious rooms with the Sovereign. "We will first go rapidly through the rooms that you may obtain a general view of their contents and arrangements," said the Sovereign. While the Professor looked at the abundance of beautiful and instructive remains of antiquity, many of which were quite new to him, the Sovereign gave some account of them; but soon left it to the learned man to search out for himself objects of interest, and it was now his turn to give explanations. Here there was an inscription, which no one probably had copied; there a specimen of pottery, with very interesting figures on it; then a statuette, a remarkable variation of a celebrated antique piece of sculpture; here the unknown coin of a famous Roman family, with their coat of arms; and there a long row of amulets, with hieroglyphics.

It was a great pleasure to the Sovereign to find out the importance of apparently insignificant objects, and every moment to receive new information concerning their value and names, but the Professor had the tact to avoid long explanations. He looked with quite a youthful interest on the collection. It happened just at a time when he was not occupied with great works, he brought with him a lively susceptibility for impressions, and at every step he felt how charming were the new views which he obtained; for there was much here that invited a closer examination. He inspired the Sovereign with something of the enjoyment he felt himself. There was no end of his questions, and the answers of the Professor. The Sovereign was delighted to tell how he had obtained many of the objects, and the Professor, by relating similar stories of discoveries, led him on to give further accounts. Thus some hours pa.s.sed without the Sovereign experiencing any weariness, and he was much astonished when he was told that it was dinnertime. "Is that possible?" he exclaimed. "You understand the most difficult of all arts, that of making the time pa.s.s quickly, I expect you at dinner; tomorrow you shall see the collection again, undisturbed by my remarks; then you must favor me with a written report of what is desirable with respect to the arrangement, so as to make the valuable objects serviceable to science."

At dinner--there was no one present but some gentlemen whom the Professor, by the advice of the Chamberlain, had visited in the morning--the conversation was continued. The Sovereign related much about Italy, and contrived in a cursory way to draw attention to the personal relations of the Professor with his own acquaintances, in order that his Court might know something about the man with whom he was so much pleased. The conversation was easy and pleasant, and before the Sovereign left the company, he turned again to the Professor, and said, "I desire much that you should feel at home with us, and I hope to pa.s.s more than one day as agreeably as I have done this."

To the Professor also it had been a refreshing day, and in going away, he said, in great spirits, to the High Steward: "His Sovereign Highness understands very well how to say kind things."

The High Steward bowed his white head civilly, and replied, "That is the vocation of princes."

"Certainly," continued the Professor; "but so warm an interest in the details of a remote province of scientific inquiry is more than I had antic.i.p.ated."

The High Steward made a courteous movement, which was to signify that he could not contradict the a.s.sertion; he enveloped himself in an old-fashioned little mantle, bowed silently to the gentlemen who were similarly occupied, and entered his carriage.

In intelligence and education the Sovereign was superior to most of his fellow princes. He had preserved much of the elasticity of his youth in advanced age; his bodily condition was excellent, and he took great care of his health; he was still capable, in case of necessity, of exertions which would have been severe to a younger man. In his youth he had devoted himself enthusiastically to the ebullitions of the then fashionable poetry, and had indulged in higher and freer aspirations than other men. He had at that time corresponded with learned men and artists of repute, and he liked to tell of his intimacy with some man of prominent mind. But his youth and manhood had fallen in a weak and decrepit period of our development. In the years when a foreign conqueror had treated the German princes as the greater part of them well deserved, he also as a youth had bowed to the foreigner, and abandoned the sinking vessel at the right time to save his t.i.tle to his country. Since then he had ruled over a pitiful race of men, for he had entered upon his government at a time of great national exhaustion; he had found little that he was compelled to respect or fear, seldom any men firm enough to maintain their rights against him, and no public opinion that was strong enough to oppose his encroachment by a unanimous determination. His country was governed by officials, the official places were continually increased, and concerning every lost key of a village church there was acc.u.mulated a bundle of legal doc.u.ments; he allowed these prolix forms of proceedings which benumbed the life of the people to remain unaltered, and only took care that the officials, whenever his personal interest came into play, should be pliant servants, who would procure him money, and withdraw from publicity any past wrong dealings of their Sovereign.

When he came into contact with his people, he was affable and good-humored, made it easy for pet.i.tioners to approach him, listened kindly and sympathetically to all complaints, and threw the blame on the officials. He was not unpopular; sometimes the discontented grumbled at the high taxes, and over the costly expenditure of their master; and, here and there, an anecdote of his private life reached the public; but the new spirit of the times, which was beginning to stir also in his country, struggled only weakly in helpless a.s.saults against his system of government. And although as a ruler he showed no inclination to remedy existing evils, yet, to those at a distance, he appeared personally to be a humane, good-hearted man. He had a kindly acknowledgment and a gracious word for every one; he knew much of the private relations of his subjects, and occasionally showed his personal sympathy for individuals; he loved children, for he would sometimes stop in the streets to notice pretty boys and girls, and inquire after their parents; he gave a fete to the school children of his capital every year, appeared at it himself, and took pleasure in their games.

His Court was in many respects a model of order and pleasing display.

By all who surrounded him he was considered a distinguished man; and contrived--which is most difficult for a prince--that those who daily a.s.sociated with him should always have a feeling of his superiority. He had never been a military man, and he did not refrain from sarcastic remarks on the warlike propensities of other princes. His Court long remained free from the military influence that prevailed in neighboring capitals. Gradually, indeed, he made some concessions to the fashion, and his aides-de-camp became important members of the royal household; but he was not on a comfortable footing with the officers of his household, and, in spite of his quiet manner, was always feared by these gentlemen. There were hours when it appeared that his reserved character was not only accompanied by severity, but by something quite anomalous, in addition: at such moments, cynical jests or brusque and irritative remarks fell from his lips, and he lost all consideration for the claims of those about him. But the young n.o.blemen and aides-de-camp bore the secret thorn of their position without being subjected to the loud criticism which is often expressed by the courtiers of ruling princes, for the Sovereign understood how to treat them with respect before strangers. He held strictly to etiquette, even on their behalf, and cleverly took care of their interests in the presentation of favors--orders and decorations--which foreign princes visiting his Court were bound to bestow; he never called upon them for anything contrary to the dignity of their office, and knew how to maintain his own and that of his Court in intercourse with strangers.

His wife had died early, and the inhabitants of the capital always preserved a grateful recollection of that pale and delicate lady. It was said that the marriage had not been a happy one; yet the sorrow of the Sovereign was strong and lasting. He always spoke with great tenderness of the departed, and every year, on the anniversary of her death, fastened a garland in her mausoleum.