The Lost Manuscript Part 58

The Chamberlain went away not much pleased with the radical views of the Doctor. On his return home he said to the Prince:

"The affair must be settled quickly before your father can learn of it.

Your father, considering the social standing of your opponent, would positively prohibit any concession on your part; and yet I see that the future intercourse of your Highness with the body of the students, and even perhaps other personal relations, will be greatly endangered if the public opinion here is not in some measure satisfied. If, therefore, I may counsel your Highness, it will be to make a great concession, and accept Herr von Halling as your representative."

The Prince looked down, depressed, and finally said: "That will perhaps be best."

The great leader Beppo, one of the best swordsmen of the University, was to fight for the Hereditary Prince. But now it appeared that the Arminians were by no means satisfied with this idea of a representative, and raised the impudent pretension that the Prince should himself appear before them in fencing attire and cambric s.h.i.+rt.

The stout Ulf, for instance, the originator of the whole embroilment, declared that he found the Markomann leader also on his list, and he would not renounce the delightful prospect of having a pa.s.s with that gentleman in his private capacity.

This could not be denied. Meanwhile a large council of seniors, which the Markomanns had quickly called together, decided that a subst.i.tute should be allowed to enter the lists for the Prince. On the other hand, their cunning proposition that the Arminian should first enter the lists against the other men of their corps, was declined. They wished by this to relieve the Prince of the whole affair, as it might be a.s.sumed that even the great strength of the Arminian would be exhausted before half the names on his list were cancelled. Nothing, therefore, remained but for the two combatants to fight together at two different times, the Markomann, in the name of the Prince, first.

"We shall do our best to make the second meeting unnecessary," said the Markomann significantly to the representative of the Arminian, on the breaking-up of the conference.

Every precaution was taken to keep the fatal duel secret; only those concerned in it knew the hour: even to their near a.s.sociates another day was spoken of; for the beadles were watchful, and the University had been called upon by the highest authorities to avert further consequences by all means in their power.

The day before the duel, the Prince invited the Markomanns to dinner, and there was so much talk upon relevant matters that the Chamberlain felt decidedly uncomfortable. Shortly before the breaking-up of the party, the Prince was standing with Beppo in a recess of the window; suddenly he seized the hand of the young man, held it fast, and his frame was violently convulsed with suppressed sobbing. The valiant youth looked at the Prince much moved.

"All will go well, your Highness," said he, consolingly.

"For you, but not for me," replied the Prince, and turned away.

As towards evening the Hereditary Prince walked restlessly through the rooms, the Chamberlain, who also wished to be relieved from his troubled thoughts, proposed that they should that evening pay a visit to the Rector. This was the only place where he was sure to hear nothing of the disagreeable history, and he was sharp-sighted enough to guess that this visit would be particularly agreeable to the Prince.

Ilse knew everything. Our student friend, who had involuntarily played the magpie, creating mischief between the parties, still haunted the neighborhood; he ventured, on one of the student evenings, to remain behind with Penelope when the others went into the Rector's room; he related the whole quarrel, described the dangerous position of the Prince, and begged her to say nothing of the occurrence to her husband.

When, therefore, the Prince entered, a forced restraint and uneasiness was manifest in those present. The Chamberlain was more charming than ever, and related agreeable Court stories, but without effect. The Prince sat embarra.s.sed in his place, next to Ilse; he felt the seriousness of even her friendly words; he saw how sorrowfully her eyes rested upon him, and when they met his he turned quickly away. At last he began, with unsteady voice:

"You once showed me the portraits of famous men that you have; may I ask you to let me see the volume again?"

Ilse glanced at him and rose. The Prince followed her, as before, into the next room. She laid the volume before him; he looked over it without interest, and at last began, in a low tone:

"All I wished was to be alone with you. I am helpless and very unhappy.

I have no person on earth who will give me disinterested advice as to what I shall do. I have given offense to a student, and have been bitterly insulted by him. And I am now compelled to allow another to fight out the quarrel for me."

"My poor Prince!" cried Ilse.

"Do not speak to me of it, gracious lady, with the feelings with which a woman would regard it, but speak, as if you were my friend in advice.

That I should burden you with my troubles makes me feel at this moment contemptible to myself, and I fear I seem so also to you." He glanced gloomily down.

Ilse spoke softly. "I can only say what is in my heart; if your Highness has done an injustice, apologize for it; if you have been insulted, forgive it."

The Prince shook his head.

"That would be of no use, it would only disgrace me afresh in my own eyes, and those of all others. It was not on that point that I ask you.

Only one thing I wish to know; ought I to allow another to fight my battle because I am a prince? All say that I must do it; but I have no confidence in any, only in you."

The blood mantled in Ilse's face. "Your Highness lays a responsibility upon me that frightens me."

"You once told me the truth," said the Prince, gloomily, "as no one on earth has yet done, and every word you spoke was good and from your heart. I therefore now pray you to give me your honest opinion."

"Then," said Ilse, looking at him eagerly, while the old Saxon blood boiled in her veins, "if your Highness began the quarrel, you must end it yourself like a man, and you must yourself take care that it is done in an honorable way. Your Highness ought not to allow another to brave your opponent and endanger himself on account of the wrong you have done. To lead a stranger to wrong, to compel another to risk his life, while you quietly look on, would be worst of all!"

The Prince replied, dejectedly:

"He is courageous, and superior to his adversary."

"And does your Highness think it right to take advantage of your opponent by the powers of one who is stronger than yourself? Whether your representative wins or loses, you will be more indebted to him than you ought to be to a stranger; and through your whole life you will be burdened with the thought that he has shown courage, while you have not."

The Prince became pale and silent.

"I feel just as you do," he said, at last.

"Everything of this kind is dreadful," continued Ilse, wringing her hands; "everywhere there seems to be ill-will and thoughts of b.l.o.o.d.y revenge. But, if it is impossible for you to prevent a wrong, it is your duty to take care that it does not become greater, and that its consequences do not fall on the head of another, only on your own. My heart tells me that you must yourself do, if not what is right, at all events what is least wrong."

The Prince nodded his head, and again sat silent.

"I cannot speak of it to those about me," he began, at last, "least of all to him," pointing to the Chamberlain. "If I am to prevent another from fighting in my stead, it must be done immediately. Do you know any one who can help me?"

"My husband's office forbids his doing anything for your Highness in this affair. But the Doctor?"

The Prince shook his head.

"Our student," exclaimed Ilse; "he is truly devoted to your Highness: he is a countryman of ours, and feels greatly troubled about this matter."

The Prince reflected.

"Will you allow me to have the use of your servant for a few hours this evenings when you no longer need him yourself?"

Ilse called Gabriel into the room, and said to him:

"Do what his Highness desires of you."

The Prince approached the window, and spoke in a low tone to the servant.

"Leave everything to me, your Highness," said Gabriel, as he went back to his tea-cups.

The Prince approached Ilse, who was standing motionless, staring at the book.

"I have looked over the portraits," he said, with more composure than he had shown during the whole evening, "and I have found what I was looking for. I thank you."

Ilse rose, and returned with him to the company.

The guests had left, and Ilse was sitting alone in her room. What had she done? Become the confidant of a man implicated in a b.l.o.o.d.y deed, the secret adviser of a lawless action. She, a woman, was the confederate of a strange man; she, the helpmate of one who should be the guardian of the laws, had become the abettor of a crime. What dark spirit had infatuated her when she confidentially held counsel with the stranger in whispers on a subject which she could not venture to confess to her husband? No!--he who had drawn her into this was not a stranger. She had from her childhood heard of him with deep interest; he was the future ruler of her country, and would be there master of life and death. From the time she first knew him, so touching in his joyless youth and in the weak helplessness of his position, she had been tenderly solicitous about him; and from that day she had always found in him an amiable and pure mind. She was now trembling with anguish for him. She had driven him to his fate; she bore the guilt of an action that was considered unseemly for one in his position. If from her advice evil befell him--if the opponent of the poor, weak youth should kill him,--how could she bear it on her conscience?

She sprang up, and wrung her hands. Her husband called her, and she shuddered, for she felt herself guilty in his sight. Again she asked herself: "What bad spirit has distracted me? Am I no longer what I was?

Ah me! I have not acted as becomes a Christian woman, nor as a careful wife who opens the shrine of her soul to one alone. Yet," she exclaimed, raising her head, proudly, "if he were again to stand before me, and again ask whether he should act as a man or as a coward, I would again and again say the same thing. May G.o.d forgive me!"

When Kruger entered the Prince's bedroom to undress him, the latter laconically charged him with a commission that greatly astonished the lackey. But as he saw himself thereby confirmed in his confidential position, he promised obedience and silence. He extinguished the lamp, and went to his post. An hour after, he introduced the student, who had been brought by Gabriel through a back-door, into the bedroom of the Prince. There a conversation took place in a low tone, the consequence of which was that the student hastened from the house in great excitement, and commissioned Gabriel, who was waiting, to order a cab to be ready at an early hour in the morning near the corner of the next street.

A serious company, the flower of the different corps and a.s.sociations, tried fellows of daring aspect, were a.s.sembled at early dawn in the hall of a tavern some distance from the town--an impressive sight for every student heart. On this day most of the sanguinary agreements of the memorable evening were to be settled in their proper order. The first matter in hand concerned the academic honor of the Hereditary Prince. The combatants were drawn up, dressed in their fencing attire; each one stood, with his seconds and umpires, in a corner of the room; the physician--it was the old Teuton of the fiddle--had prepared his apparatus in a corner, and looked with grim satisfaction on his impending work, which promised him new and instructive cases. But the Arminians were unappeasable: once more their seconds addressed themselves to the referees, and complained that the Prince was not there, at least, to acknowledge his representative by his presence.