"Most gracious sir, I do not believe that it was intoxication, else surely the Prince would be well to-day! But he is not at all better, and the Electress, who visited her son early this morning, broke forth into loud weeping when she saw him, for he must look just like a corpse."

"Did he recognize the Electress? Did he speak to her?"

"He knows n.o.body, he does not open his eyes, but lies there stiff and stark like a dead man, and if he did not sometimes fetch a breath, you would believe that he were already dead. This the little Princess herself told me, as I accidentally met her in the pa.s.sage, when she returned from visiting her brother. But the doctor says this sleep is the beneficial result of his treatment, and that when the Electoral Prince awakes he will be quite restored to health. He has ordered that no one else be admitted to see the Prince, and Dietrich watches over him like a Cerberus."

"And he does well in that, Mrs. Culwin. I thank you for your information, and if anything new should happen I beg of you to come to me forthwith.

Tell me one thing more: Do you believe that the specter will come again to-night? Is it the custom of the White Lady to show herself oftener than once?"

"My husband maintains that if she appears, as at this time, all in white, she will come again three nights consecutively. So it was when the Elector Sigismund died. I saw her only once, and she wore black gloves, but the next evening my husband saw her on the other side of the castle dressed all in white, and on the third evening the Elector died."

"It would be interesting if the White Lady should come again to-night. I should like to know if it is the case, and--Well, farewell, Mrs. Culwin, and if you learn anything new, share it with me. Perhaps I shall come over to the castle myself to-night."

He held out his hand to the old woman, and, as he pressed hers, he let a well-filled purse slip into it. He cut off her expressions of grat.i.tude by a short nod of the head, and waved her toward the door. The castellan's wife withdrew, and, absorbed in deep thought, Count Schwarzenberg remained alone in his cabinet. With hands folded behind his back, he walked for a long while to and fro. His pace was ever steady, ever composed; his countenance seemed quite cheerful, quite tranquil, and yet his soul was stirred by pa.s.sion and a storm was raging in his breast.

"He is alive--he is still alive," he said to himself. "One could almost believe that he has a star above which watches over him and preserves him.

It has been ever so from childhood; and at times when I think of him I experience an unwonted sensation--I am afraid of him. He is my deadly enemy, I know it. If I did not thrust him aside, he would do so with me.

If I did not kill him, he would kill me. It was a mere act of self-defense to put him out of the way. If it miscarries, I am lost, for I shall not soon have courage for a second attempt. I am a coward in this young man's presence, I am afraid of him! He is my fate, my evil fate! And I can not avert it, can undertake nothing more. I lack a tool. Oh, what a blockhead I was to dismiss Nietzel! His own sins were the scourge by which I lashed him into action. He was as wax in my hands, and if he failed this time, he must have tried it again. I would have driven him to it, and he would have been forced to obey. If the Electoral Prince should now get well, Nietzel would be glad, for he is a soft-hearted fool, and had it not been for Rebecca's sake, he could never have brought himself to commit the deed.

Even while he executed it his heart bled, and--My G.o.d!" he suddenly exclaimed, "what a thought bursts upon me! If this Nietzel--"

He was silent and sank into an armchair, putting his hands before his face, to shut out the outer world, to be undisturbed in his deep train of thought.

Long he sat there, silent and motionless. Then he let his hands glide from before his face, which had now again resumed its haughty, composed expression, and arose from his seat.

"I must know what is the meaning of this ghost story," he said softly to himself. "Nowhere has the phantom been seen but in the antechamber to the Prince's rooms. It did not go like other spirits through walls and closed doors, but must needs open and shut doors, like ordinary mortals. Yet old Dietrich denies having seen the White Lady in the Electoral Prince's room.

Then afterward the White Lady was seen outside the castle, she did not vanish through the air, but went out like a human being. It is a plot, that is clear. They are conspiring with the Electoral Prince, and profit by the mask to obtain safe access to the castle; or it may be Nietzel, come to confess what he has done to the Prince--maybe even to bring him a remedy. I must unravel it! I am sure the illusion succeeded so well last night that the apparition will be repeated. I shall make my regulations accordingly, and if it is so, then let the White Lady beware of me, for I am a good conjurer. I shall go to the castle myself to-night, and when the sentinels flee, I shall go in. Ah! we shall see who is stronger, the White Lady or the Stadtholder in the Mark!"

Melancholy and quiet reigned all day long in the Electoral palace. The Elector himself remained in his cabinet and had the court preacher John Bergius called, that he might pray with him and edify him by a few hours'

pious conversation. But the dreadful uncertainty as to whether the White Lady had appeared in deep mourning or with black gloves still continued to disturb him, and whenever a door opened a shudder crept through his veins, for he thought that the White Lady herself might be coming to call him away.

"I shall leave Berlin," he said perpetually to himself. "I shall return to Konigsberg; for if I stay here I will certainly die of anxiety and distress. I can not live in the house with a ghost. I shall go away. Ah!

there is the door opening again! Who is it? Who dares come in here?"

"It is I, my husband," cried the Electress, bursting into tears. "I am just from our son."

"How is he?" asked the Elector carelessly. "Has he at last slept off the fumes of liquor?"

"Alas! George, I fear this is no case of intoxication, but he is dangerously sick. The White Lady did not appear for nothing."

"What, you think she came on our son's account?" asked the Elector, almost joyfully. "You think it is not for our--" He paused and drew a breath of relief, for he felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his soul. "You really think, my dear, that the White Lady came on our son's account?"

"I fear so, alas! I fear so! My son is sick and will probably die, and our house will be left desolate, become extinct, and ingloriously decay. Oh, my son! my son! I had built all my hopes upon him, and when I thought of him the future looked bright and promising."

"And if he were no more, then would all look sad and gloomy to you, although your husband would still be at your side, which rightfully ought to console you. But you have ever been a cold wife to me and a tender mother to your son, and it really vexes me to see how you love the son and despise his father. What an ado you make merely because your son has taken a little too much liquor, and suffers from the effects of intoxication, as the doctor says!"

"But I tell you, George, the Electoral Prince is sick, and the White Lady--"

"I will hear no more of that," broke in the Elector pa.s.sionately; "it is a silly, idle tale, not worthy of credit. Everybody is dinning it into my ears to-day, and it is simply intolerable to have to listen. I just wish that I could leave this place, to be rid of this tiresome ghost story, and not to have to undergo such torment and vexation. In Konigsberg, at least, we live in peace and quiet, and are not forever plagued by the sight of sullen faces and perpetual threats of war and pestilence. In Konigsberg Castle, too, the White Lady has never appeared, and there are no nightly apparitions there."

"Let us return to Konigsberg, George!" cried the Electress. "Do so for our son's sake; I tell you if we stay here, he is lost! Death stands forever at his side, threatening his precious young life! Ask me not what I mean, for I can not explain myself; yet I feel that I am right, and that he is lost if we do not speedily depart. Only listen this one time to my entreaties and representations, my husband. Let us set out before it is too late."

"Well then, Elizabeth, I will do as you wish," said George William, who was glad that he could grant his wife what he so ardently wished himself.

"Yes, we shall promptly depart, since you urge it so pressingly."

The Electress gently encircled her husband's neck with her arm and imprinted a kiss upon his brow. "Thank you, George," she whispered. "You have probably saved our son from death. May the merciful G.o.d grant him restoration to health, and so soon as this is the case let us set off."

"Make all your preparations then, Elizabeth, for I tell you your tenderly beloved son is only a little tipsy, and to-morrow will be well as ever."

"G.o.d grant that you speak the truth, George. Then let us commence our journey day after to-morrow," which is Wednesday. But hark! I have one more request to make of you. Tell no one of our projected trip. Let us make our preparations in perfect secrecy."

"For all that I care," growled the Elector. "The princ.i.p.al thing is to be off. Abode here has been hateful to me ever since I heard those shouts of the populace the day our son returned. I can not live in a city where the mob undertakes to meddle in government affairs, and even prescribes to its Sovereign the dismissal of his minister. It is an uproarious, insolent rabble, the rabble of Berlin, and I shall not feel glad or tranquil until I have left the place."

"And I, too, George, will not feel glad or tranquil until we have left the place, carrying our son with us. I am going to work directly, and will prepare everything for our departure, and consult with my daughters. But I must first go and see how our son is."

The Electress hastened back to the apartments of the Electoral Prince, and old Dietrich came to meet her with joy-beaming countenance to announce to her that the Prince was awake, and felt perfectly well. "He only feels a great weakness in his limbs, and his head is heavy. The doctor has been here, and ordered that the Prince be kept perfectly quiet to-day, and not allowed to speak with any one or to leave his bed. To-morrow he will be quite well again."

"Then I will not speak to him," exclaimed the Electress; "I will only take one look at him and give him one kiss."

She entered her son's sleeping room and stepped up to his couch. The Electoral Prince smiled upon her, and his large eyes greeted her with tender glances. He had already opened his mouth to speak, but the Electress quickly laid her hand upon his lips.

"Do not speak, my Frederick," she whispered softly. "Sleep and compose yourself; know that your mother tenderly loves you. For my sake, my son, keep quiet to-day; keep your bed and talk with no one. Will you not promise me?"

He nodded smilingly and imprinted a kiss upon the hand which his mother still held over his lips. The Electress hurried away, and Frederick again remained alone with his old valet.

"Now, Dietrich," he whispered softly, "now keep watch that no one enters, and let us quietly await the night."

"Your grace thinks that the White Lady brought you good medicine last night, and that she will come again, do you not?"

"I am convinced of it, my good old man. G.o.d has sent her for my cure. G.o.d will not have me die already."

"The name of the Lord be blessed and praised!" murmured Dietrich, sinking upon his knees in fervent prayer.

Deep stillness pervaded the Electoral Prince's apartments the whole day long, for n.o.body dared venture in. The doctor himself, who came toward evening, only peeped in through a crevice of the door, and nodded quite contentedly when Dietrich whisperingly told him that the Prince had again fallen into a gentle slumber.

"I knew it," said the doctor with gravity. "My medicine was meant to cure him by means of sleep, and I am not surprised that my calculations have proved perfectly correct. To-morrow the Prince will be perfectly well--that is to say, if he regularly takes my medicine. It has been prepared for the second time, I hope?"

"Yes, indeed, doctor, and the Prince has half emptied the second bottle."

The doctor nodded with an important air, and repaired to the Electress, to inform her that the Electoral Prince had been upon the point of taking a violent nervous fever, but that the right medicament, which he had given him, had averted this evil, and saved the Prince from imminent peril.

Old Dietrich, however, threw away a spoonful of medicine every quarter of an hour, and when night came the bottle was empty.

And now the longed-for night had closed in with its curtain of darkness, its noiselessness and quiet. Deep silence ruled throughout the castle, no loud word was any longer to be heard, not a man was to be met in hall or pa.s.sage. Before the ushering in of the momentous hour each one had made haste to tuck himself up in bed, and shut his eyes, for everybody dreaded lest the specter of the preceding night should walk abroad again and show itself to him. The sentinels in the corridor before the Electoral suite of rooms and in the vestibule of the Prince's apartments dared not walk to and fro, for the noise of their own steps terrified them, and the dark shadows of their own forms, thrown upon the ground by the dim oil lamps, filled them with unspeakable dread. They had planted themselves stiffly and rigidly beside the doors, firmly determined as soon as the awful apparition should show itself to take to their heels and return to the guardroom. And happily they had some justification for this, inasmuch as the soldiers had received orders from the Stadtholder in the Mark, when they relieved guard, to convey instant tidings to the guardhouse if anything remarkable should occur.

In order to convey instant tidings, they must of course take to their heels and forsake their posts. This was the only comfort of the soldier who was stationed in the vestibule leading to the princely apartments, and therefore he stood close to the door, which was only upon the latch, that he might the more rapidly gain the grand corridor, and warn in his flight the sentinels there. Yet he dared not open his eyes, and his heart beat so violently that it took away his breath.

The great cathedral clock tolled the hour of midnight with loud and heavy strokes. The clock in the castle tower gave answer, and then the wall clock in the great corridor slowly and solemnly struck twelve.

The soldier closed his eyes, and murmured with trembling lips, "All good spirits praise the Lord our G.o.d."