A Conspiracy of the Carbonari Part 4

"If I do, will you then promise not to betray me?"

"If you do, I will devote all my craft, cunning, and boldness to the one purpose of making us rich; will put all means in motion, in order, when we are wealthy, to give you the happiness of living with your lover in some secluded corner of the world."

"You do not say that you will not betray me. Swear it."

"I swear that I will betray to no human being who and what you are, as soon as you swear to remain what you are and to fulfill your duties."

"Well then," she groaned faintly, "I swear it: I will remain what I am; I will make no attempt to fly from this life of disgrace and crime."

"My dear Leonore," he said kindly, "now we have taken our mutual vows and understand each other. All differences are settled, and we are once more sure of each other."

"Yes, we are sure of each other," she repeated with a melancholy smile, slowly rising from her knees and drawing her figure proudly to its full height. "I will take up my part again and you shall hear no more complaints from me, father. Have you any further questions to ask?"

"Really," he exclaimed, gazing at her with sparkling eyes, "really, you are an admirable woman. Just now a despairing, penitent Magdalen, and once more a Judith ready for battle or a Delilah who is joyfully ready to cut Samson's locks and deliver him to the Philistines. Tell me, is there a Samson whom you will deliver to us?"

"More than one," she cried; "for I tell you that there is a conspiracy, and I already know three of the members. The object is to discover the others.

So give me time and trust me."

"May I speak of it to the emperor now?"

"You may warn him, throw out hints, fix your price. For as you have said, we must be rich to be free and happy. Demand a high price of blood, that we may be rich."

"Blood-money! Then it is a very serious matter. Blood will be shed! Ay, blood will be shed! Heads will fall!" she cried with flas.h.i.+ng eyes. "But what do we care for that? We shall be paid for betraying the traitors, and, when we have gained wealth, no one will ask from what b.l.o.o.d.y source it came. Wealth reconciles, equalizes everything. So we will be rich, rich.

And now, uncle, listen. Baroness de Simonie will give another entertainment to-morrow. She will invite all her friends and acquaintances, but especially Count Andreossy's aids, Colonel Mariage, Captain de Guesniard, Lieutenant-colonel Schweitzer, the two Counts von Poldring, and moreover a number of French and Austrian officers, magistrates and ladies. It must be a brilliant fete--all the rooms crowded with people, that some, without attracting attention, may be able to retire and hold a familiar conversation."

"Of course, of course, my beautiful Leonore, and as your uncle and major-domo, I will do everything in my power for your honor! And now, my child, farewell! I will go to Schonbrunn, to report to the emperor.

Farewell, and be brave, happy, and joyous. Believe me, men do not deserve to be pitied, far less to be loved. The day will soon come when my Leonore will perceive this and strip the enthusiasm of love from her heart as calmly as the glove from her fair hand. Farewell, you lovely Baroness de Simonie!"

CHAPTER III.

BARON VON KOLBIELSKY.

Leonore had accompanied her father into the anteroom and listened in breathless silence to his departing footsteps.

Then, rus.h.i.+ng to the window, she threw it open and gazed down into the street. Yes, she saw him enter a carriage and drive off in it, turning once to nod to her.

With a sigh of relief she went back to her boudoir. Her whole being seemed transformed. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkled, and a happy smile hovered around her lips as she glanced at the clock.

"Twelve!" she cried joyously, "twelve! He will come! I shall see him again. Ah, there he is! There he is!"

She darted to the door to open it. She had not been mistaken. _He_ was there, the man whom she expected. With a cry of joy he opened his arms, and she threw herself into them, clasping her arms around his neck, and laid her head upon his breast.

"Welcome, my beloved one, welcome! Oh, how delightful it is to rest upon your breast!"

"And what happiness to clasp you in my arms, Leonore! Raise your head, my sweet love; let me see your beautiful face and sun myself in your eyes."

She lifted her face to his, gazing at him with a happy smile. "I see myself in your eyes, dearest."

"And you would see yourself in my heart also, if you could look into it, Leonore. But come, my queen, sit down and let me rest at your feet and look up to you as I always do in spirit."

He accompanied her to the divan and pressed her down upon the silken cus.h.i.+ons. Then, reclining at her feet, he laid his clasped hands in her lap and resting his chin upon them, gazed up at her.

"Do you really love me, Leonore? Can you, the proud, petted, much courted Baroness de Simonie, really love the poor adventurer, who has nothing, is nothing, calls nothing his own, not even his heart, for that belongs to you."

"I love you, because you are what you are," she said, smiling, stroking his black hair lightly with her little white hand.

"I love you because you are different from every one else; because what attracts others does not charm you; what terrifies others does not intimidate you; I love you precisely because you are the poor adventurer you call yourself. Thank heaven that you are no sensible, prudent, deliberate gentleman, who longs for t.i.tles and orders, for money and position, but the clever adventurer who calls nothing his own save his honor, seeks nothing save peril, loves nothing save--"

"Loves nothing save Leonore," he ardently interrupted. "Believe me, it is so! I love nothing save you, and, until I knew you, I did not know even love, only hate."

"Hate?" she asked, smiling. "And whom did you hate, my loved one?"

"The foes of my native land," he cried, while a dark, angry flush swept over his handsome, expressive face, and his dark eyes flashed more brightly.

"The foes of your native land?" she repeated, smiling. "And who are these hated foes?"

"The Prussians and the Emperor Napoleon. It was the Prussians who first dismembered my hapless country. Oh, I was but a little boy when the Empress Catharine and King Frederick stole the fairest portions of hapless Poland.

I did not understand my mother's tears, my father's execrations, but as my father commanded me, I laid my hand upon the Bible and vowed eternal, inextinguishable hatred of the Prussians. And the boy's vow has been kept by the man. I have struggled ceaselessly against these ambitious land-greedy, avaricious Prussians; fought with my tongue, my sword, and my pen. And when at last, at Jena, they were vanquished and forced to bow to the very dust, I exulted, for their defeat was Poland's vengeance. G.o.d was requiting the wrong they had done to Poland. Since then I have no longer hated the Prussians, but I despise them."

"And whom do you hate now?" she asked, gazing lovingly at him with her large, dreamy eyes.

"Him, the traitor, the actor, and liar, the Emperor Napoleon!" he cried, starting up and pacing excitedly to and fro. "Ah, Leonore, why did you lay your hand upon the great, ever-aching wound in my heart? Why did you ask about my hate when I wished to speak to you only of my love? Why do you wish to see that my heart is bleeding when you ought only to know that it exults in love? Yet perhaps it is better so; better that you should behold it wholly without disguise; that you should know it not only loves, but hates. Leonore, all my love is yours, all my hate Napoleon's. I came to Vienna by the behest of my hate, and for the first time, I found here what I had never known--love. Hitherto my heart had belonged to my native land, now it is yours, Leonore. The poor adventurer, who, under manifold forms, in manifold disguises, under many names, had wandered through the world, always in the service of his native land and vengeance, has now found a home at your feet, and it sometimes happens that he forgets grief for his country in the joy of his love. And yet, Leonore, yet there are bitter, sorrowful hours, in which I execrate my love itself; in which I feel that I will rend it from my heart; that I must escape from it into the hate which hitherto has guided and fixed my whole existence."

"If you feel and think thus, you do not love me," she said mournfully.

"Yes, I love you, Leonore; love you with rapture, with anguish, with despair, with joy. Yet I ask myself what will be the goal and end of this love? I ask myself when this sun, which has shone upon me through one beautiful, splendid day, will set?"

"It will never set, unless by your desire," she cried, putting her arms around his neck and bending to imprint a kiss upon his brow.

"It will set, for I am not created to live in suns.h.i.+ne and enjoy happiness.

My life belongs to my native land! I have sworn to consecrate it to my country, and I must keep my oath. I dare not give myself up to love until I have done enough for hate; I dare not enjoy happiness ere I have fulfilled vengeance."

"Vengeance, my dearest? On whom do you wish to take vengeance?"

"On him who stole my native land; who deluded us for years with false hopes, with lying promises; who promised us liberty and in return gave us bondage. I seek to avenge my country on Napoleon--"

"Hus.h.!.+ for G.o.d's sake, hus.h.!.+" she cried, trembling violently, as she pressed her hand upon his lips. "Do not utter such words; do not venture even to think them; for even thoughts bring danger, and speech will bring you death."

"Ah," he cried, laughing, "does my proud, royal Leonore fear? Does she fear in her own house, in her boudoir, where love alone can hear?"

"And hate," she said anxiously. "For you say that not only love, but hate, dwells in your heart."

"But not in yours, Leonore. No, in your heart dwells only love, and I will trust it. Yes, you beautiful, glorious woman, I will give you a proof of my infinite love and confidence. You shall know my secrets and I will tell you what I have yet betrayed to no woman on earth."

"No, no," she cried vehemently; "no, I will hear nothing. I do not wish to know your secrets; for I might reveal them in my sleep. They might fill my soul with such anguish and terror, that they would occupy it even in slumber, and I might tell in my dreams what I certainly would not disclose in waking, though I were exposed to the tortures of the rack. Oh, love, I fear your secrets, and I fear that they threaten you with peril! Give them up. If my love has any power over you, I entreat you: renounce them. Resign all your plans of hate and vengeance! Cast thoughts of anger from you! You have lived and labored for your native land long enough. Now, my love, dismiss hatred from your heart, and yield it to love! Renounce vengeance and allow yourself happiness! You say that you love me--give me a proof of it, a divine, beautiful proof! Let us fly, my beloved one, fly from this world of falsehood, treachery, hate, and anger, to conceal ourselves in a quiet corner of the earth, where no one knows us, where the noise of the world does not penetrate, where we shall learn nothing more of its dissensions and wars, where only love and peace will dwell with us; where, clasped in each other's embrace, we can rest on Nature's bosom and receive from her healing for all our wounds, comfort for all our losses. Oh, let us fly, for I know well that, so long as you are here--here in this world of strife and intrigue--you will not be mine; you cannot wrench yourself away from the numerous relations which hold and bind you, draw you into their perilous circle. Give them up. Let us rend these bonds which fetter you and will drag you to destruction. Let us go to America; far, far away to some quiet, unknown valley, where there are no human beings, and therefore there will be no falsehood and no treachery, no battles and strife. There let us dwell in the divine peace of creation; live as Adam and Eve lived in Paradise, quietly and at rest in the precincts of pure human happiness."