CHAP. XI.
When Ferdinand arrived at Dr. Renau's, he heard that Louisa was very much recovered, and on being introduced to her, was charmed to see her more easy, and apparently in better health than he could have expected. After a few compliments, and a little preparatory chat, he bid her prepare to hear news interesting and pleasing, and then entered upon the scenes which they had witnessed at Heli's cottage.
Louisa was both surprised and affected.—She shed many tears for the dreadful fate of a man she once tenderly loved; thus cut off in the high career of vice, when he was planning new schemes of mischief. After she grew a little composed, he repeated the story of Count Reiberg, and concluded with asking what directions she would give him or her friends to prosecute her claims to a share of the late Count's property, as his widow; his last words before witnesses would corroborate the circumstances she could bring forth.—After pausing for some time, she delivered her sentiments in these words:
"There was a time, when, to be acknowledged the wife of Count Wolfran, would have been my pride, my happiness; that time is no more. To be justified in the opinion of my generous friends and protectors, is now the only gratification his confession can afford me.
"I never will make any public claims;—my story is unknown, but among my few friends; there let it rest.—The generous, noble-minded Theodosia, was married in the face of the world; she has a child; that child is his lawful heir; nor for millions would I deprive it of its rights, or occasion confusion to its amiable mother, by the ill natured observations of little minds, who will judge superficially of the deception practised against her.
"This then is my determination: I will not appear in the business; Theodosia is Countess of Wolfran; send an express to her; let her emerge from her solitude, and act for her child, as heir to the Count; her claims are incontestable—mine, were I inclined to assert them, might subject me to trouble from his relations; but I have no such inclinations; a thousand reasons of delicacy, honour, and gratitude, determine me to resign all my pretensions."
"But," said Ferdinand, "how shall we account for the last words of the Count, spoken before Reiberg and the surgeon? of which the former has taken notice."
"As the delirium of the moment," answered she.—"The surgeon cannot be interested to investigate it: The Countess will be recognized by all his friends and her's, and Reiberg may be led to believe it was some transient attachment he had lately formed. The words of a dying man, situated as he was, may easily be overlooked."
"Well," said Ferdinand, "I admire your resolution exceedingly; I trust we shall, in a few hours, have the benefit of Mr. d'Allenberg's advice; for I think they will not delay their journey, when they know your situation."
"I believe so," replied Louisa, "and shall rejoice to see them; but my determination is fixed, as to resigning all claims on the deceased or his property.—On that head, I have made up my mind; nor will any advice or persuasions prevail upon me to alter it; and indeed there is less generosity than justice in this resolve, because I have no one that can be benefited by the Count's fortune; and his child is, and ought to be, his heir; therefore, dear Sir, have no doubts on the business; send off to the Countess without delay; I will prepare a letter to go by the same courier."
As Ferdinand observed that she appeared fatigued with talking, and saw she was truly decided, he forebore intruding on her by farther conversation, and retired to procure a messenger; also to fabricate some plausible story to account for the last words of Count Wolfran.
When he returned, he found his friend the Count, and young Reiberg, were still absent; he waited on the Baron, and consulted him about the disposal of the Count's body, until the pleasure of his lady should be made known. The Baron readily undertook to manage that business, and to send a proper person with a shell to remove it from Heli's.
They began to be extremely surprised at the long absence of the others; night came on, and they did not appear, when suddenly a loud knocking revived their spirits; presently they heard a bustle, when four armed men rushed in, and produced their authority to arrest Ferdinand for robbery and murder!
Inconceivably astonished, the Baron and he gazed on each other for a few seconds in silence; but the former first recovering, cried out, "This is a false and malicious charge; I know this gentleman; I can answer for his honour and innocence."
"Very possibly, Sir," replied the principal of them; "but that must be proved; we can do nothing about it; we must obey the warrant; and if the gentleman is innocent, he will soon be at liberty; he must, however, go with us." Ferdinand had by this time recovered from his surprise; turning to the Baron—"Be not disconcerted, Sir, the business will soon take another turn; the man is right; I must comply with the mandate, and appeal elsewhere." At that moment entered the Count and young Reiberg.
"How! What is the meaning of all this?" cried the latter."
His father briefly informed him of the charge and arrest.
"That cursed revengeful Turk," exclaimed the Count; "but he shall not be carried to a prison."
"I beseech you, my good friends," said Ferdinand, "not to oppose the authority issued against me. Innocence is best proved by a quiet submission to the laws, and a proper appeal to higher powers. I am ready to attend you, said he, turning to the man."
"Sir," returned the man, who had spoken before, "you are a gentleman and an honourable one too.—I am certain—I am sorry I am ordered on such an affair; but I hope you will soon have your liberty."
"I thank you, my good fellow," replied he.
Then embracing his friends, after they had inquired where he was to be carried to, they parted.
No sooner had Ferdinand been taken off, than young Reiberg gave the following relation to his father:
"When we arrived at the cottage, we were extremely surprised to be seized upon by five or six men, on our entrance into Heli's apartment. My first idea was, that they were banditti, but I was soon convinced of my mistake. Heli was reclined on the sofa, as we had left him; a man, who we found was an interpreter, standing by his side.
"On seeing us, he spoke with an appearance of chagrin to the other: He asked where the other gentleman was that had been there in the morning? I replied we had left him in the city, and demanded to know the reason we were thus seized upon. The interpreter made the following reply:
"I was sent here this morning by a surgeon; just as I arrived, came these men also, with orders to arrest this Turk for the murder of Count Wolfran, information of which had been given to a magistrate.—I explained to Heli their business; he grew outrageous, and denied the fact: Meantime, two of the men had searched the house, had found the dead body, and some empty pistols.
"This corroborated the charge, and they were on the point of dragging him away wounded as he is.—When he understood this, he declared, that a gentleman, who called himself Count Ferdinand, but who he believed to be a rogue and a sharper, with his sister, calling herself Fatima, had concerted with the late Count to enter his house, and plunder him of some jewels, which the two former knew he had with him.
"That the Count, Fatima, and a strange man, assaulted him; he made resistance;—upon which the woman had stabbed him in the neck, and he directly caught up a pistol, and fired on the Count: That seeing him fall, and Heli faint with the blood that flowed from his wound, also falling, they had proceeded to plunder the house, had carried off his casket of jewels, and fled, leaving him and the Count to all appearance dying; and then the former confessed Ferdinand had persuaded his sister to get possession of those jewels.
"In the morning, he said Ferdinand, with two gentlemen, came to the house, the former, no doubt, expecting to find him dead, and seemed much surprised and confused when he saw both alive. The Count dying soon after, Ferdinand went into the rooms, and then returned, crying out, the house was plundered; upon which he (Heli) accused his infamous sister: That Ferdinand spoke to him in the Turkish language, desiring he would not expose him, by calling Fatima his sister; but he disdained any other reply than the same accusation in German; upon which the other, greatly confounded, pretended to show much compassion for him, but made off as soon as he could; and he supposed some of his confederates had charged him with the murder of the Count, to get rid of him; but he now charged Ferdinand, his sister, and other accomplices, with an intent to murder and rob him."
"This," continued the interpreter, "was the account delivered to the men. Some circumstances seemed improbable; yet there were others not unlikely, because it was plain he had been robbed, by the disorder in the house. Two men were left to guard him, whilst three went away to repeat this story to the magistrate.
"They soon returned; we were ordered to wait here, and seize who ever should come to Heli. Mean time, an order was given to arrest this Ferdinand at the house of Baron Reiberg, according to Heli's directions;—and now, gentlemen, this is all I know of the business; the Turk persists in his story, and the affair must be investigated by those in power."
"When the man concluded his account," said Reiberg, "I asked to speak with Heli, but I was refused; we then demanded to be conducted to the magistrate, which was complied with; and on coming before him, and declaring our names, he permitted us to depart at liberty, as no particular charge had appeared against the Count or myself. All this business occasioned our late return, but we little thought the order for Ferdinand's arrest had been so speedily issued and executed; and now, dear Sir, what can be done?"
"Nothing can be done this night," replied the Baron.—"Early in the morning I will attend the magistrate myself.—At any rate, the Count's testimony and mine will procure his liberty, on our parole of honour, I should suppose."
"That villainous Turk can only be actuated by malice," said the Count; "for he well knows the innocence of my friend.—What share Fatima had in the business, I know not; but I believe that Count Wolfran came there to seek for the lady, and not to rob the house.—I only fear it will be difficult to investigate the truth, for want of evidence; but to-morrow I shall most certainly apply to the Emperor himself to prove the rank of Ferdinand, and then I hope we shall soon confound his accusers."
Ferdinand was conducted to a prison; but he was treated with gentleness, and had (for a prison) tolerable accommodations. He was not without very unpleasant reflections; no letters had arrived from his friends, which involved him in doubts and anxiety for his son, Claudina, and his brother.—By his imprudence, in acknowledging his connexion with the worthless Fatima, he had brought on himself his present disagreeable situation: Then he considered, that if the affair was prosecuted on Heli's testimony against him, he should be compelled to make his father's weakness known, and the attendant circumstances.
He then reverted to the story of Louisa. Miss d'Allenberg's situation gave him the most poignant concern; a young woman so respectable, so charming, a victim to a hopeless passion; who could the object be? that her heart was free, when she consented to marry Count Wolfran, was a certainty avowed by herself. He then recollected every little circumstance of her behaviour, when Count M——— and himself were on a visit to her father. Her politeness and attention then appeared to be equally divided, but now, on a review of every thing, Ferdinand remembered the Count had much the greater share of her notice. She talked mostly to him; she leant on his arm in the garden;—and on the day of their departure, he had observed in taking leave, she fixed her eyes on the Count as she spoke.
"Yes," said he, on recapitulating those trifling circumstances.—"Yes, I am convinced the Count has been so happy to touch that heart so good, so amiable; he is unconscious of the distress he has given birth to, and his situation will, from honour and delicacy, ever preclude him the unspeakable delight of restoring her mind to peace."
What a fatality, thought he, that so lovely a woman should have placed her affections so unhappily; never shall I forgive myself for that unfortunate introduction to her acquaintance. The more he reflected, the more he was convinced the Count was the object that had produced the lamentable change in this amiable young lady.
Our confession at parting, that we were "married, and unfortunate," her father doubtless repeated, and from thence originated the melancholy that oppressed the daughter. He sighed heavily for her disappointment, and scarcely thought life worth preserving, when subject to such various events, productive of certain misery.
"Did not my child exist," exclaimed he in a fit of despondency; "did I not feel, that I owe to him a duty I cannot delegate to another, that of superintending his conduct, and directing his mind as he advances in years; instructing him to guard against the impetuosity of youthful passions; a too easy confidence in the seeming integrity of plausible appearances, and from the example of his unhappy father, see those precepts illustrated; example, which speaks more forcibly to an inexperienced mind than the most elaborate reasoning adduced from theory only. Yes, for his sake, I must endeavour to retain my existence, that my follies may not spread wider in the conduct of my child."
"Under the oppressive recollection of former scenes, and doubtful anxiety for the future, poor Ferdinand passed a wretched night; nor were his friends much easier.—Count M———, whose affection for him was truly fraternal, lamented, that it was in consequence of his advice they had remained in Vienna 'till the return of their letters.———Whatever unpleasant consequences might have attended their sudden appearance, they could not have been productive of such vexatious circumstances as had now happened, he thought. Yet, then, what might have become of the poor Louisa? How would young Reiberg have acquired that promise of returning tranquillity, if the events that had taken place at Heli's had remained unknown? Those questions again reconciled him to a degree of comparative ease, to think less of the blame he had attached to himself, and to trust in Heaven for the protection of his friend, and their deliverance from the malicious accusations of Heli.
The next morning, at the instant when the Count, Baron Reiberg and his son, were preparing to wait on the magistrate, and from thence, if they found it necessary, to address the Emperor; the long-expected letters arrived from Suabia. The Count received one from his steward, very much to his satisfaction; the good Duclos being overjoyed at the restoration of his master from death to life, particularly as he had applied to the Duke of Wirtemberg, and obtained leave to keep possession of the estates for six months, or until a certainty of his master's fate within that period should arrive. This prudent proceeding had saved much trouble.
The next letter was from Eugenia, and written in a style of such content, and calm resignation, that although she expressed an infinity of satisfaction from the receipt of his letter, yet that satisfaction seemed more like the affectionate joy of a sister, than the transports of a wife: Her expressions were kind, but guarded; her congratulations were warm, but not rapturous; in short, it was such a letter as a sister might write to a beloved brother; not one word reverted to past scenes; not a line of regret for their separation. She told him, "she was more than tranquil; she was happy: That the tender interest she must ever feel for the state of his mind, was the only cloud that hung over her, otherwise, perfect content; and as she had but little doubt of the good effects of time, of the cares of friendship, and of the advantages resulting from employment and amusements, she hoped that cloud would soon be brushed away to their mutual satisfaction."
The perusal of this letter at first rather displeased Count M———; but at the second reading, he was more just; it was selfish to feel discontent, because religion and good sense had tranquillized her mind, and that the situation she had chosen from the purest motives should have realized her expectations and wishes: Did he not wish her happy, after the years of misery she had struggled with; and was not her conduct truly laudable and praise-worthy? Those reflections recalled him from his temporary displeasure, and rendered the sentiment she expressed more estimable in his eyes, from the very circumstances that first offended him.
She did not mention the Countess in her letter, and therefore it was uncertain if she remained in that convent, or had changed her residence.
The Count, having examined the contents of his own letters, saw there were two also for Ferdinand, one with a black seal. As he was not acquainted with the writing, he could not have an idea from what quarter it came. At first he proposed taking the letters to him; but after a little deliberation, it was settled that young Reiberg should visit him with the letters, whilst the Count and the Baron pursued their first intention of exerting all their joint interest to procure an order for the release of Ferdinand.
end of vol. iii.