CHAP. VII.
Mean time the unhappy youth had fainted on the floor, where he was found by his brother, who recovered and tried to sooth him into composure; but the dreadful curse still vibrated in his ears, distraction was in his looks, and his tongue refused utterance to the emotions of his heart. He was conveyed to Rhodophil's apartment, who assured him he would leave nothing undone to soften his father's displeasure.—"Comfort yourself, my brother," said he, "all violences must subside, time must be allowed, fear not, I will be your friend and advocate, and for means of subsistence you may rely on me."—Ferdinand could make no reply; he pressed his brother's hand, and, attended by the faithful Ernest, left the Castle, and returned to his wife. The moment she saw him she screamed. Never was a man so altered in so short a time. Ernest was obliged to explain to her the discovery which had been made, and she no longer wondered at the grief and despair visible in her husband; she blamed and execrated herself as the cause; and in the height of her agitations absolutely proposed to him to give her up, to renounce her society, and permit her to spend her days in sorrow and obscurity. But Ferdinand would not be outdone in affection and generosity.—"You are my wife," said he; "you have not offended, and it is both my incliation and my duty to protect you, my dearest consolation, under every affliction." Ernest endeavoured to calm the grief and agitations of both; he promised to assist the entreaties of Rhodophil, by every representation that could soften the Count towards Ferdinand, and induce him to think favourably of Claudina.
But in vain was every effort to mitigate the Count's resentment, until one day, long after Claudina had been brought to bed of a boy, (whom Ferdinand named Charles Rhodophil, after his father and brother) when she was walking with her child in her arms, in the skirts of the forest for air, the Count and Rhodophil, who had been on a hunting party, met her; the latter dropped back to speak to her; the Count eyed her attentively, and when his son came up, inquired who she was; with some hesitation he acknowledged she was the wife of Ferdinand. He started, and was silent for several minutes; at length, sighing deeply, "I own," said he, "she is extremely beautiful; she has a child too!—Ill-fated Ferdinand! thou hast undone thyself, and rendered me culpable and wretched; but the infant is at least innocent; I did not curse, not reprobate that, therefore I will allow something to keep it from want."—On his return Ernest was called, and directed to pay them quarterly twenty crowns. The old man was overjoyed, and tried to obtain a larger allowance, but his master was immovable: "To keep them from want is sufficient, it is the charity I would bestow on a stranger, they have no claims upon me."
Glad even to have gained this point, Ernest hastened to them with the intelligence, with a quarter's advance, and bid them look on it as a lucky omen of future reconciliation. Ferdinand was transported; he wrote to his father a letter full of acknowledgments, deep contrition for having offended him, and every possible submission his situation would allow of; but his letter was returned unopened, and Ernest forbidden to mention his name.———Rhodophil frequently visited them, and often made Claudina little presents, which were very acceptable, for they experienced a loss which made their little income very confined. One morning, on coming down stairs, there seemed a disorder in the room very unusual; no fire was made, no preparation for breakfast, and the door of the house left on the latch. Their aunt, who had always performed all the offices of a servant, assisted by Claudina whilst Ferdinand nursed his little boy. This aunt it was plain was gone out, but for what, or where to, they could form no conjecture; however, they exerted themselves to do the necessary offices, but when they came to prepare their breakfast, they could find no spoons, and in a short time after discovered the drawers in the room had been opened, and all Claudina's linen was taken away; they likewise missed Ferdinand's watch, which hung in the room.
Strangely alarmed, they made every possible search, which only served to discover more losses, and to convince them they had been robbed, and by this aunt. Their consternation cannot be expressed; but the cruel truth was unquestionable, and with the very little money they had, they were obliged to purchase necessaries for use, which was a heavy drawback. What could have induced this woman to injure and desert them they could not imagine; but the fact was certain, and the loss and inconvenience great. Claudina was again with child, and this event added to the continued displeasure of the Count, which affected her husband with a deep melancholy, threw her into a low nervous disorder, which rendered her but little capable of domestic business, and but for the kindness of Rhodophil and Ernest, they must have perished. Mean time it was very visible that a heavy dejection overwhelmed the Count, his constitution grew weak, his spirits sunk, his appetite lost.—Every one was alarmed; the physician gave it as his opinion that it was a constitution breaking up, but no immediate danger; at length he confined himself solely to his apartment, and saw only Rhodophil, the physician, and his valet.
Ferdinand was informed of his father's situation, and was nearly distracted. He entreated Rhodophil to intercede for him, 'that he might once more throw himself at the feet of his justly offended parent, and receive a last blessing." His entreaties were rejected—his presence forbidden. He then wrote a few lines, imploring his beloved father to revoke the heavy curse he had laid upon him and his wife.—His brother returned the letter, his father had refused it, and commanded him to mention his name no more. The truly wretched Ferdinand used to walk before the Castle gates for days together, imploring admittance, but all was fruitless; no servant dared to disobey orders, so positively given to the contrary.
One morning, whilst leaning his arms on the outside gate, Ernest came to him: "I will run the risque, follow me to my chamber, Sir, no time is to be lost." More dead than alive, he attended Ernest without speaking, when, at the very entrance of the house, they met his brother. He started back with amazement: "Good God! Ferdinand! how came you here?"
"Pardon me, Sir," said Ernest, much confused; "but from what I hear, my noble master is at the point of death; now, and now only, when he must solicit mercy from his heavenly father, is the time to try if he will extend that mercy, on his part, which he must supplicate from the Almighty."
"You are right," replied Rhodophil;—"Come with me to the anti-chamber, my dear brother, and I will procure you admittance, though all others are forbidden."—Ernest bowed and withdrew; with a beating heart and trembling limbs Ferdinand entered the anti-chamber, where Rhodophil's valet sat, who also started at seeing the unexpected guest his master brought in.
"Wait without," said Rhodophil, "nor at your peril permit any one to enter."—The servant quitted the room.
"Now," said the former, "I will go in and see the state our father is in, and administer a cordial to support his spirits."—Scarcely daring to breathe, Ferdinand waited near a quarter of an hour in all the agonies of suspense and terror.
Rhodophil at length appeared:—"He sleeps," said he, "every thing depends on rest, we must not disturb him, wait a little." Ferdinand bowed his head, he could not trust to his voice, his heart beat with increasing violence. Near half an hour elapsed, when his attention was suddenly roused by two or three deep groans. He started, and flew to the door; a short gallery communicated to the bed chamber of the Count, there he listened, a kind of bustle seemed to be in the room, but the groans were not repeated; his hand was on the lock, hardly sensible whether he intended to open it or not, when it was suddenly opened on the other side. The Count's valet appeared: "Be so good to return!" said he, "all is over, my master is no more!"
Ferdinand tottered back into the other room, and fell lifeless on the floor, where his brother found him on his return to the library, at which period this history began.
The subsequent circumstances have been fully related, and having sent Ferdinand to Vienna, we shall attend to Claudina and her children, who were for several days inconsolable for the departure of her husband.