The Daughter of an Empress

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Corilla's face immediately took an expression of sadness; her eyes
flashed with an unnatural fire; her previously raised arm fell powerless
by her side; her head, like a broken rose, sank upon her breast; her
other hand convulsively grasped the urn, and in this position she in
fact resembled an abandoned mourner, weeping over the ashes of her lost
happiness. She was now the repudiated and forsaken one who, ready to
resign her life, was brooding upon thoughts of death. And while her face
took this expression, and she, staring upon the earth before her, seemed
to be meditating upon irremediable fate, thought Corilla: "This is a
charming theme which the good Cardinal Albani has thrown into the urn
for me. I found it directly by the small pin which, according to his
promise, he inserted in the paper. This cardinal is an agreeable imp,
and I must give him a kiss for his complaisance. Besides, the Tasso
rhyme will here be the most appropriate!"

Again she directed her gaze, with a gloomy expression, toward the
heavens, and with a violently heaving bosom, with feverishly flitting
breath, she began the lament of Sappho. Now like rattling thunder,
now like the gentle breathings of the flute, rolled this sweet and
picturesque language of Italy from her lips--like music sounded those
full, artistic rhymes, of which but few of the hearers had the least
suspicion that they came from Tasso. To improvise in the Italian
language is an easy and a grateful task! What wonder, then, that Corilla
acquitted herself so charmingly? The audience paid no attention to the
thoughts expressed; they asked not after the quintessence; they were
satisfied with the agreeable sound, without inquiring into the sense of
her words; it was their melody which was admired. They listened not
for the thought, but only for the rhyme, and with ecstatic smiles and
admiring glances they nodded to each other when, thanks to the studies
which Corilla had made in Tasso, Marino, and Ariosto, she seemed of
herself to find rhymes for the most difficult words.

An immense storm of applause resounded when she ended; and as if
awakening from an intoxicating ecstasy, Corilla glanced around with an
expression of astonishment on her features; she looked around as if she
knew not whence she came, and in what strange surroundings she now found
herself.

After a short pause, which Carlo filled out with his harp, she again put
her hand into the urn and drew out a new theme; again the inspiration
seemed to pass over her, and the holy Whitsuntide of her muse to be
renewed. Constantly more and more stormily resounded the plaudits of her
hearers; it was like a continued thunder of enthusiasm, a real salvo
of joy. It animated Corilla to new improvisations; she again and
again recurred to the urn, drawing forth new themes, and seemed to be
absolutely inexhaustible.

"It is now enough," whispered Carlo, just as she had drawn forth a new
theme. "You have but a quarter of an hour left!"

"Only this theme yet," she begged in a low tone. "It is a very
happy one, it will win for me the hearts of all these cardinals and
gentlemen!"

"Yet a quarter of an hour, and then your time is up," said he. "Remember
my oath, I shall keep my word!"

An inexplicable anxiety, a tormenting uneasiness, came over him; he had
hardly strength and recollection sufficient to enable him to accompany
Corilla, who was discussing in verse the question, "Which Rome was the
happiest, ancient or modern?"

Carlo's eyes, fixed and motionless, rested upon Natalie; it fearfully
alarmed him not to be near her, not to be able to watch every one of
her steps, every one of her motions; it seemed to him as if he saw that
savage man with his naked dagger lurking near her! And she, was she not
pale as a lily; seemed she not, in that white robe, to be already the
bride of death?

"I must hasten to her, I must protect her or die!" thought he, and, with
a threatening glance at Corilla, he showed her the hour. Corilla read in
the expression of his face that he was in earnest with his threat, and
as if her inspiration lent wings to her words, she spoke on as in a
storm of inward agitation, and with words of fire she decided that
modern Rome was the happiest, as she had the holy father of Christendom,
her pope, and his cardinals!

The applause, the general delight, was now unbounded; cardinals were to
be seen weeping with enthusiasm and joy; others with heartfelt emotion
were showering words of blessing upon the improvisatrice, and all
pressed toward the tribune in order to accompany her down the steps and
in among the company.

A sudden thought of rescue had like a flash of lightning arisen in
Carlo's soul.

"Natalie must first be completely separated from this society, and then
I will seek this man and render him incapable of mischief!" thought he.

By main strength he made himself a path through the crowd surrounding
Corilla, and now stood near Cardinal Bernis, at whose side still
remained Natalie and Count Paulo.

"You have struck the lyre like an Apollo," exclaimed the cardinal to the
singer.

Carlo bowed with a smile, and hastily said: "And are you ignorant,
your eminence, that a much greater poetess and improvisatrice than our
Corilla is in your society?"

The cardinal smilingly threatened him with his finger. "Poor Carlo, has
it already come to this?" said he. "You are jealous of our delight in
Corilla, and would lessen her fame, that you may make her more your
own!"

"I speak the truth," said Carlo; "a poetess is among us whom the
muses themselves have consecrated, an improvisatrice, not of human
composition, but by the grace of God, to whom the angels whisper the
rhymes, and the muses the ideas!"

"And who, then, is this divinely-gifted artist, this consecrated
daughter of the muses?" wonderingly asked the cardinal.

Carlo indicated Natalie, and bowed to the ground before her.

"Princess Tartaroff?" asked the cardinal, with astonishment.

"That she is a princess, I know not," said Carlo, "but I am quite
certain she is a poetess!"

What was it that at this moment stirred the soul of the young maiden?
She now felt a pride, a blessed joy, and yet she had previously felt so
sad at Corilla's triumph! It seemed as if enthusiasm raised its wings in
her, as if the word, the right word, pressed to her lips, as if she must
utter in song her rejoicings and lamentings for her simultaneously
felt pleasures and pains! A pure and genuine child of Nature, she felt
herself the natural impulse to pour out in words, tones, and even in
tears, what agitated her soul, and to which she was unable to give a
name.

Cardinal Bernis had first turned imploringly to Count Paulo, praying for
his permission to invite the young princess to surprise and delight
the company with some of her improvisations. Others, overhearing this,
mingled in the conversation, and added their requests to those of
the cardinal; and, the feeling becoming general, the requests for
an improvisation became universal and pressing; people, momentarily
forgetting the great and celebrated improvisatrice Corilla, with a
feverish curiosity turned to the new and unknown star. Corilla stood
almost alone--only Cardinal Albani remaining by her side; but his tender
words were not competent to appease the violent storm of jealousy that
raged in her soul.

The solicitations of the curious Romans became constantly more urgent,
and Count Paulo, unable longer to resist them, finally consented to
leave the decision to his ward, the young princess herself.

And Natalie? She was so real and ingenuous a child of Nature that she
felt no timidity in the presence of this crowd; she was so full of
faith and confidence, so full of trust and human love. She thought: "Why
should I not give a little pleasure to these good people who approach me
with such warm sympathies? And why should I tremble before them? Did not
Paulo tell me that I should feel as if I were in my garden, and it was
only my trees and flowers that were looking at me with human faces?
Well, then, I will so think and feel, and speak only to my dear trees
and flowers!"

Beckoning Carlo with a charming smile, guided by his hand, she hastily
ascended the steps. And as they saw her there upon the stage, this
delicate, lovely maiden--as they looked upon her spiritual maiden
beauty, with the childlike expression of her noble features, with eyes
that beamed with pleasure and inspiration--there arose such a storm of
applause that Natalie slightly trembled, and with a sweet smile she said
to Carlo: "The people here are much more boisterous than the zephyrs
in our garden, but they are not so melodious, and it almost saddens the
heart!"

Cardinal Bernis now approached with the silver vase. On this occasion he
had taken it upon himself to collect the themes, and with a respectful
bow he handed them to the princess. With a gracious smile she took one
of the papers and unfolded it. The subject was, "Longing for home."

That was a theme well calculated to inspire Natalie, and to reawaken
in her all her longings, sorrows, loves, and remembrances. She suddenly
felt something like a cold shudder in her heart, and glancing around
with a feeling of solitude and desertion, she saw nothing but curious
faces and strange, staring eyes! She, also, was repudiated and homeless,
and an excessive longing for the distant unknown home of her childhood
now took possession of her.

Perhaps Carlo had read her thoughts upon her brow; low and plaintive
melodies poured from his harp, as it were the rustling murmurs of
far-off remembrances, the sighing and sobbing of a yearning heart.
And Natalie, carried away by these tones, forgetful of all around her,
mindful only of the happiness of her childhood and of the lady she had
so dearly loved, began to sing.

Of what she said and what she sang she was unconscious. She stood there
as if elevated by inward inspiration; her eyes flashed as she stared
into the far distance, and the images she saw there caused her to smile
and weep at the same time; all the glow, all the childlike purity of her
soul, came in words from her lips in a stream of inspiration, of painful
ecstasy!

She saw nothing, heard nothing! She saw not the ladies weeping with
emotion, not the rapturous glances of the men; she had entirely
forgotten all those strange, unknown people; and when the constantly
increasing storm of applause finally reminded her of them, it was all
over with her inspiration--the words died upon her lips, and with a sad
smile she hastened to the conclusion.

And now arose a shout and an outbreak of rapture which caused Natalie to
tremble with anxious timidity. She cast a searching glance around her;
it seemed to her that Paulo must come to her relief, that he must rescue
and redeem her from the enthusiastic and flattering men who surrounded
her. She saw him not! Where was Paulo, where was Carlo? These
inquisitive lord cardinals had formed a circle around her, she seemed
to herself a prisoner; it alarmed her to thus find herself the central
point of all these attractions.

Not far from her stood Corilla, with glowing cheeks and anger-flashing
eyes.

"I will avenge this affront or die!" thought she, as, grasping Albani's
hand with convulsive violence, she whispered to him: "Free me from this
woman, and I will realize all your wishes."

Francesco Albani smiled. "Then you are mine, Corilla, and no power on
earth shall take you from me. That child is dead. See, see how she makes
herself a path through the crowd--ah, it is too sultry for her here in
the hall, she approaches the garden door, she slips out. Ah, give me
your hand, Corilla. Yet a few moments and the fairest woman on earth is
mine!"

Light as a gazelle, timid and trembling, Natalie had fled the crowd, and
now, stepping out into the garden, she breathed easier, it seeming to
her that she had escaped a danger.

"This night air will cool and refresh me, and I shall soon succeed in
finding Paulo," thought she, constantly wandering farther and farther
into the garden. But the brightness of the illuminated alleys annoyed
her. A more obscure and secluded path opening, Natalie entered it.
Ah, she needed solitude and stillness, and what knew she, this simple,
harmless child of Nature--what knew she whether it was proper and seemly
for a young woman thus alone to venture into these dark walks? She knew
not that she incurred any risk, or that one needed protection among
people!

Even farther resounded the noise of the festival--the clang of the music
sounded fainter and fainter. Natalie wandered farther and farther, happy
because alone!

Alone? What, then, was it that noiselessly and cautiously haunted her
steps, following every movement she made, constantly nearing her the
farther she found herself, as she supposed, from all other living
beings? What was it inaudibly creeping through the bushes, even its dark
shadow imperceptible, that followed her like a ghost?

It became stiller and stiller, and nearer crept the gloomy form that
lurked in her steps. Now with a sudden spring he rushes upon the maiden.
What gleams in his hand? It is a dagger. He swings it high, that he
may sink it deep. Then some one rushes from the bushes, seizes the
murderer's arm, wrests the dagger from his hand, hurls him to the earth,
and a dear, well-known voice cries: "Fly, Natalie, fly quickly to Count
Paulo! This serpent will no longer follow you! I have him fast, the
assassin!"

And Carlo broke out into a happy and triumphant laugh.

Natalie made no answer, she was paralyzed with terror; there was a
roaring in her ears, it darkened before her eyes, and she fell senseless
to the earth!

But her disarmed murderer sought to free himself from Carlo's grasp.
Struggling with his captor, he finally succeeded in half rising. Carlo
thought not of his own danger, but only of Natalie's, and it was only
on her account that he now loudly called for help, at the same time
exerting a superhuman strength to hold on upon his prisoner.

Voices were heard, lights approached, and Paulo's cry of anguish
resounded.

"Here, here!" anxiously cried Carlo, his strength already beginning to
fail him. And his call being recognized, people soon came with lights.
Count Paulo was already distinguishable, already Cardinal Bernis, with a
light in his hand, was hastening on in advance of the rest.

With a last powerful effort the prisoner succeeded in freeing himself.

"She is saved for this time, but my dagger will yet make her
acquaintance!" said he, with a scornful laugh, and like a serpent he
glided away among the bushes.

"She is saved!" cried Carlo, sinking back toward Count Paulo, and
pointing with a happy smile to Natalie, who, awaking from her momentary
stupefaction, stretched forth her arms toward the count.

"Paulo," she whispered low, "let us hasten from here! I dread these
people! I fear them! Let us go! But take him with us, that they may not
kill him, my saviour, my friend Carlo!"




THE DEPARTURE

The morning dawned. Count Paulo rose from the arm-chair in which he had
passed the night. He had occupied the whole fearfully anxious night in
writing; he now laid the pen aside and stood up.

His face had an expression of firmness and decision; he had formed a
firm resolution, had come to an irrevocable determination.

With a firm step advancing to the door opening into the adjoining
chamber, he called to his friend Cecil.

The latter immediately made his appearance, and, entering the count's
chamber, laconically said: "All is ready."

Count Paulo smiled sadly. "You are then sure there are no other means of
saving her and ourselves?" he asked.

"None whatever," said Cecil. "Every moment's delay increases her and
your danger. The occurrence of last night is a proof of it. They sought
the death of Natalie--without Carlo's help she would have been murdered,
and all our plans would have come to an end."

"Her life is threatened, and yet you can urge me to go and leave her
alone and unprotected?"

"Was it you who saved her from the danger of last night?" asked Cecil.
"Believe me, it is your presence that threatens her with the most
danger. Precisely because you are at her side, they suspect her and
watch her every step; the circumstance that she is with you creates
distrust, and in Natalie they will think they see her whose mysterious
flight has long been known in Russia. And Catharine will have her
tracked in all countries and upon all routes. Therefore, save Natalie,
by seeming to give her up. Return home and relate to them a fable of a
false princess by whom you had been deceived, and whom you abandoned as
soon as you discovered the deception. They will everywhere lend you
a believing ear, as people gladly believe what they wish, and by this
means only can you assure the future of Natalie and yourself."

"That is all just and true. I myself have so seen and recognized it,"
said the count; "and yet, my friend, I nevertheless still waver, and
it seems to me that an internal voice warns me against that which I am
about to do!"

Cecil smilingly shook his head. "Trust not such voices," said he; "it is
the whispering of demons who envelop themselves in our own wishes, who
entice us to what we would, by seeming to warn us against what we fear.
Nothing but your departure can give you safety. Leave Natalie here
in quiet solitude, and without you she will be well concealed in the
solitude of this garden, and you, in the mean time, will pursue your
affairs in Russia, and deceive the enemy, while you yourself seem to
be the deceived party. They threaten you with the confiscation of your
property, and they will fulfil those threats if you do not obey the
call of the government. Go, therefore, go! We will secretly sell your
property; and when this is accomplished, then, laden with treasure, let
us return to Natalie, no longer fearing their threats."

"And when all this is done," exclaimed Count Paulo, glowing, "it shall
be our task to conduct Natalie back in triumph to the country to which
she belongs, there to place the diadem upon her fair brows, and to raise
her above all other mortal beings!"

"God grant us the attainment of our ends!" sighed Cecil.

"We must and shall attain them!" responded Paulo, with enthusiasm. "I
must fulfil this great task of my life, or die! Away, now, with all
wavering or hesitation! What must be, shall be! They shall not say of
the man who took compassion upon the deserted and threatened orphan and
raised her for his own egotistical wishes, and pusillanimously failed to
finish the work he began! No, no, history shall not so speak of me. It
shall at least represent me as a brave man capable of sacrificing his
heart and his life for the attainment of his higher ends! Seal these
letters, Cecil. They contain my last will, and my bequest to Natalie,
which I wish to place in her own hands. Ah, Cecil, I have been an
enthusiastic fool until this hour! I thought--alas, what did I not think
and dream!--I thought that all these plans and objects were not worth
so much as one sole smile of her lips and that if she would say to me
'I love thee,' this sweet word would not be too dearly purchased with an
imperial crown. Perhaps, ah, perhaps, I think so yet, but I will never
more suffer myself to be swayed by such thoughts. We must go--Natalie's
happiness demands it. And besides, she will not lack friends and
protectors. It was not without an object that I last evening presented
her to the most notable people of Rome; not without an object that I
consented to her allowing herself as a poetess. They now know her name,
which is repeated with highest praise in every quarter of the city; all
Rome is to-day enthusiastic in her praise, and all Rome will protect
and defend her. Add to which, I shall yet recommend her to the special
protection of Cardinal Bernis!"

"And it was exactly in his house where she was almost murdered!" said
Cecil. "Without that singer, Carlo, she would have been forever lost!
If, then, you would choose a protector for her, let it be Carlo."

Count Paulo's brow darkened. "This singer loves her!" said he.

"Precisely for that reason," smilingly responded Cecil. "One who loves
will best know how to protect her."

Count Paulo made no answer; he continued thoughtfully walking back and
forth. Then he said with decision: "Seal these letters, Cecil. I will
take them to Natalie myself."

"You will, then, see her again?" asked Cecil while folding the letters.
"You will render the parting more painful!"

"I will it!" said Paulo, with decision, and, taking the letters, he left
the room with a firm and resolute step.

He found Natalie in her room. She did not hear him coming, and thus did
not turn to receive him. She was sitting motionless at the window and
dejectedly looking out into the garden, her head supported by her hand.

The events of the previous evening had made a great change in her. She
now felt older, more experienced, more earnest. A dark shadow had passed
over her sun-bright happiness, a dark power had threateningly approached
her; the seriousness of life had been suddenly unfolded to her and
had brushed off the ether-dust of harmless and joyful peace from her
childish soul. The happy child had become a conscious maiden, and new
thoughts, new feelings had sprung up within her. The first tears of
sorrow had, with a mighty creative power, called all these slumbering
blossoms of her heart into existence and activity, and her unconscious
feelings had become conscious thoughts.

But what had not happened, what had she not experienced and felt since
last evening? First, had not a new happiness broken in upon her, had
she not now a name, was she not a princess? Then, had she not achieved a
triumph--a triumph in the presence of Corilla? But then, also, how many
_desillusions_ had she not experienced in a few hours? How had her heart
been cooled by the rich flow of words in Corilla's poesy! Her whole soul
had languished for the acquaintance of a poetess, and she had heard only
a rhymed work of art. And then the last terrible event! Why had they
wished to murder her? Who were her unknown enemies, and why had she
enemies?

"I should have been dead had he not rescued me!" murmured she, and her
lovely face was illuminated by a sunny smile. "Yes, without Carlo I
should have been lost--I have to thank him for my life! Oh," said she
then aloud, "to him therefore belongs my existence, and for every joy I
am yet capable of feeling I am indebted to him, my friend Carlo! Ah, how
shall I ever be able to reward him for all this happiness?"

And while she was thus speaking, Count Paulo, pale and silent, stood
behind her; she saw him not, and after a pause she continued: "How
strange it is! To-day, when I think of him, my heart beats as never
before, and I feel in it something like heavenly bliss, and yet at
the same time like profound sorrow. Ah, what can it be, and why do I,
to-day, think only of him? I could weep because he does not yet come!
How strange it all is, and at the same time how sad! Seems it not that
I love Carlo more than any one else, more even than Paulo, who
formerly was the dearest to me? How is it now, and am I, then, truly so
ungrateful to Paulo?"

Count Paulo still stood behind her, pale and silent. A painfully ironic
smile flitted over his face, and he thought: "I came to ask a question,
and Natalie has already given me the answer before I had time to ask it.
Perhaps it is better thus. I have now nothing to ask!"

The young maiden became more and more deeply absorbed in her thoughts.
Count Paulo laid his hand lightly upon her shoulder. She was startled,
and involuntarily cried, "Carlo!"

"No, Paulo!" said he, with a melancholy smile, "but at all events a
friend, Natalie, though a friend who is about to leave you!"

"You leave me?" she anxiously exclaimed.

"That means only outwardly, only with my body, never with my soul," said
he, deeply moved. "That, Natalie, will remain with you eternally, that
will never leave you--do you hear, never! Always remember this, my
charming child, my sweet blossom! Never entertain a doubt of me; and if
my voice does not reach you, if you receive no news of me, then think
not, 'Paulo has abandoned me!' no; then think only, 'Paulo is dead, but
my name was the last to linger upon his lips, and his last sigh was for
me!'"

"You desert me?" said she, wringing her hands. "What am I, what shall I
do, without you? You have been my protector and my reliance, my teacher
and my friend! Alas, you were all to me, and I have ever looked up to
you as my lord and father."

Count Paulo sadly smiled. "Love me always as your father," said he;
"while I live you shall never be an orphan, that I swear to you!"

"And must you go," cried she, clinging to him; "well, then let me
go with you! You will be my father--well, I demand my right as your
daughter; to accompany her father is a daughter's right."

"No," he firmly said, "you must remain while I go; but I go for you, to
assure your future power and splendor. Remember this, Princess Natalie,
forget it not; and when one day they brand me as a traitor, then say:
'No, he was no traitor, for he loved me!' And now hear what I have yet
to say," continued the count, after a pause, while the still
weeping Natalie looked up to him through her tears. "But look at
me, Natalie--no, not that sad glance, I cannot bear it! Leave me my
self-possession and my courage, for I need them! Weep not!"