CHAPTER FOURTEEN
"What do you say about what we have just seen?" said the princess to Bathilda as soon as they were on their way.
"I am very much moved. If I had not attached myself to you for life, I would have stayed."
"And if it were not for the only man I have loved, I would do likewise. I am so tired of the torments of life."
"And we haven't yet counted those to come."
"I confess, Bathilda, that I am trembling like you at the thought of what awaits us."
"However, Milady, since Mersburg is taking care of everything we should have nothing to fear."
"One is often mistaken in this world. True friends are rare especially when one is of the ruling class."
Finally, after an uneventful journey, the princess entered Fredericksburg, but not without an uneasy feeling of foreboding.
Following everything that had been suggested to her, she went into the inn disguised and sent word to the count that she awaited him. He came at once.
"Your arrival causes me the greatest joy," he said to her as soon as he saw her. "All is prepared as I told you. The Marquis of Thuringia is here. Your husband has taken again the reins of government since he has been back. Yesterday I told him of the possibility of being mistaken about your death. His surprise was mingled with a sentiment which I could not make out."
"You fear nothing from this unknown sentiment?"
"No … It is love, I believe … But he was making every effort to hide it even from himself. In making you come out of that coffin in which I put you in Venice, I noticed at once that expression of sentiment which is love, perhaps, mixed with jealousy and revenge."
"Will I see Thuringia before I see my husband?"
"You want it as much as I do, but perhaps this eagerness might jeopardize the main plan of reconciliation."
"In that case, I shall not see him."
"Remain here in your room as much as possible and if you have to go down to the dining room pick an hour when very few people are there or have your meals served up here if you can. I will come to see you tomorrow fairly early and I will tell you then of all the arrangements I have made."
It can easily be imagined how troubled Adelaide was until the reappearance of the count which was not until late in the evening.
"You are going to see Thuringia," he said to her with excitement in his voice.
"In truth, I am already sorry I said anything about seeing him. It gives me remorse."
"Such remorse is without foundation. Can one be the master of his own heart? The choice you have made of Thuringia is the work of a sensitive heart. Politics have chained you to Frederick. Should you hesitate an instant? Moreover, the ways of your husband have not attached you to him. What has he offered you since your fate has been linked to his?… cruelty, jealousy and imprisonment. He has exposed you to great unhappiness by forcing you to flee. If you had perished, as it might well have happened, he would have had your death on his conscience. Do you think you owe anything to such a man?… Come in," he suddenly said to Thuringia seeing him at the door, "you will help me to overcome the prejudices of a woman who adores you and who does not dare say so to you or to admit it to herself."
Then Thuringia fell on one knee before the princess and took her hand in his and pressed it respectfully to his lips.
"Oh, divine object of my dearest thoughts," he said tenderly, "you whom I have never ceased to adore, is it true that you dare to have the same feelings that I have? Is it true that you wish to deny these feelings even to yourself?"
"Pardon, my dear friend," she said, "pardon these fears which hold me back. Your image is no less dear because of them, but you know as well as I do the obstacles which prevent our belonging to each other, those unfortunate bonds which keep me in the arms of another."
"We can find ways," interrupted the count, "of weakening these bonds and even of nullifying them."
"I cannot consent to anything of that type," said Adelaide. "My duty forbids any such act. And certainly it will not be you, Thuringia, you who respect your duties in life, who would want me to scorn mine. The laurels with which you have recently covered your forehead during the absence of Frederick would fade if you did anything so dishonorable."
"Can you ever believe," cried Thuringia, "that it is dishonorable to love?"
"Oh, Milady," said Mersburg, "you don't love my friend as he loves you."
"Is it not loving him to cherish his glory?"
"But," said the count, "suppose Frederick puts you back in prison."
"I will escape as I did before. You will both help me. If nothing succeeds then I would rather suffer than to betray my duty."
"Ah," said Thuringia with the expression of the most tender love, "I make an oath to perish a thousand times rather than see you exposed to new misfortunes. I shall avenge you myself."
"Take that thought out of your mind at once," cried the princess. "It might be legitimate in some cases, but in this case it becomes criminal."
"I will respect his life if he does not harm you, but I will destroy him if he hurts you."
Finally, after a thousand proofs of their love, the two friends asked Adelaide to tell them the story of her travels. She did so and when she arrived at the part in which she met the father of Kaunitz she turned to Mersburg with an expression of puzzlement.
"You will have to admit that it is astonishing that the day I was waiting for Thuringia near my bird cage, it was the son of this old man who replaced him and who perished under the jealous daggers of my husband. It was fortunate for my dear Thuringia, but at the same time it is hard to explain."
For an instant Mersburg seemed to be quite upset, but he soon recovered his wits and said:
"Come. It is time to separate. I advise you, Milady, to stay here one more night and to prepare to see your husband tomorrow. He must find you here. I am preparing this surprise for him, and we shall see the results."
The next morning Mersburg wentjo see Frederick.
"I have already warned you, Milord, that we were mistaken in Venice and that she was still living. I now have additional news. She is not only living, but she is in an inn here in Fredericksburg, and she is waiting for you."
"Adelaide is really living! … Ah, my dear count, why isn't she here? What keeps her from coming into my arms?"
"The fear of finding in you the same feelings which caused you to shut her up in the fortress of Torgau."
"How can she think anything like that? It is up to me to fall at her feet, and if she suffers or has suffered it is all my fault."
"Milord, before giving way to those sentiments, you must reflea on your reputation. You are a reigning prince, and you cannot bring dishonor to your throne. You cannot share it with a wife who has a bad reputation and who is guilty of crimes."
"Crimes! What are the crimes of Adelaide?"
"Do you forget the reason for your shutting her up? If she began her misdeeds in your court with young Kaunitz who knows what she has done during such a long absence. A wife who dared to be unfaithful under the eyes of her husband, must certainly have been untrue when she was far away from him. She told him yesterday the story of her travels. There are many things in them which should be cleared up. Haven't we already heard that she was in the conspiracy in Venice only because she was the mistress of the senator who was planning it? What did she do in Baden when they knew her under an assumed name?"
"What do you think she did?"
"But, Milord, these facts are known all over Germany. She lived publicly with the margrave. And that chief of bandits in the mountains who received you with such insolence; she was his mistress. Adelaide, in a word, is a woman who would not honor your throne."
"Take me to her. She is the one who should clear all this up, and I will believe nothing which does not come from her mouth."
"Milord, I do not wish to separate you from your wife. She must appear on the throne, but she should not share your bed. Do not make of her father the Duke of Brunswick an enemy. Honor should be as sacred to you as politics. Watch over your wife as soon as you have brought her back to her position. If her conduct improves maybe she can make you forget the past. Let your indulgence speak; but it is quite rare that a woman returns to a virtuous life after having lived a life of sin. Caesar has said that his wife was above suspicion. Would this great man have spoken thus if he had not thought that the shame of a wife stains the reputation of her husband? Come, Prince, your Adelaide awaits you. Be as firm in this interview as you were when you heard about her first infidelity. It is not permitted to princes to think of love when their glory is at stake. Claude might have been a great emperor if it had not been for the acts of his wife Messalina. Especially, Prince, never show that you have had any information from me about her actions, you would take away from me the means of serving you in the future."
Frederick appeared before his wife in such a state of love, uncertainty and jealousy that he couldn't say a word when he first saw her. Mersburg left them together.
"Prince, my lord and master," said Adelaide trembling, "I was eager to see you again and to justify myself."
"To justify yourself seems to me to be hard. Perhaps your frankness will make me angry."
"It is only in listening to this frankness," answered Adelaide, "that I flatter myself to be able to convince you." Then going over the events of her life point by point, she proved her innocence in all the situations through which she passed.
"What a crime I have been guilty of in sacrificing Kaunitz," cried Frederick.
"That error was frightful, no doubt," said Adelaide, "but it was only due to an excess of jealousy and because of that it is impossible for me to blame it."
The prince then took Adelaide in his arms.
"Oh, dear half of my life," cried Frederick overcome by emotion, "then you have never ceased loving me?"
But Adelaide could not be false. She did not know how to receive this sudden forgiveness, and since she did not really feel any love for her husband, she could not pretend that she did. This situation soon became apparent to Frederick who was burning to see some real evidence of love and especially to see her tears. When he saw that she was quite cool all of his former suspicions returned. Instead of opening his heart to her, he kissed her coldly on the forehead and took her hand in his.
"Come," he said, "all of Saxony awaits you. Your presence will silence the slandering tongues."
Adelaide followed her husband, and the next day great festivities announced to all the states of Frederick the return of Adelaide and the reconciliation with her husband. Ambassadors of the Duke of Brunswick arrived laden with presents and felicitations, and everybody had a very pleasant time.
"Oh, Bathilda," said Adelaide one day to the admirable companion of her travels, now her lady of honor, "oh, my dear Bathilda, I fear that I have not been able to persuade my husband of my fidelity to him. What can you do when the heart is not in it? I don't have enough falseness in me to play the part in a convincing manner."
"In the meantime, have you noticed how the Marquis of Thuringia adores you?"
"Does he speak to you of me sometimes?"
"During the festivities, he was busy all the time serving you. If he left you for an instant, it was to speak of the happiness he had at being near all that he loved."
"And Frederick never speaks to you?"
"Very rarely, Milady. He seems to be preoccupied all the time."
"How I dread that he may be plotting something which will interfere with the tranquility of my life … And what do you think of Mersburg?"
"I continue to think that he is sincere. You have seen with what eagerness he brought you Thuringia the day after your arrival."
"I sincerely hope that we are not mistaken in him."
The proof that they were mistaken was shown in the first conversation that Mersburg had with the prince on the subject of Adelaide and was evident in a second interview which he was having with the prince at the moment that they were talking together.
"Well, Milord," said Mersburg to his master, "you have not said whether you were satisfied with the princess."
"I thought that my appearance would show you, my dear count. Haven't you seen how I treat her? Have you noticed the coolness which I show her and that Bathilda, the companion of her misconduct and whom she honors with her confidence?"
"We should not be so uneasy on the subject of your wife, Sire, perhaps we were mistaken in her conduct."
"No, Mersburg, no. Her coolness and impassiveness the day of our first interview have sufficiently enlightened me. She lowered her eyes and did not dare answer. She is guilty, I tell you, and I do not know if I am doing the right thing in keeping her beside me on the throne. She will finally dishonor me. I now have the fortress of Torgau in readiness, and I don't believe that fire will burn it this time."
"No, Sire, no, don't use that means again. It would be as dangerous as it would be useless. You would only incur the enmity of the Duke of Brunswick, and you know how important it is for the sovereigns of Germany to maintain their friendship at a time when the foreign princes want to invade our land. Remain for a while in this distant manner toward your wife which is suitable for a man of your stature and let's continue to observe her conduct. If we should catch her in the act then it will be time to punish her."
"And whom do you suspect?"
"My ideas are still too vague to be able to communicate them to you, but I am working on the matter and as soon as I discover anything I will tell you about it immediately."
Mersburg went from his interview with the prince to see Adelaide.
"Milady," he said, "the conduct of Frederick toward you begins to give me some uneasiness. If I did not feel how important it was for you to remain here, I would tell you to leave. A second absence might compromise you more than ever."
"What is there now?" cried Adelaide, uneasy, "is there some new danger for me?"
"It is always a question of the same suspicions which are producing the same effects. You did not try hard enough the other day to destroy those unfortunate suspicions. You should have defended yourself better."
"What could I do when I felt no love for him. The appearance of one wrong will make him think of a thousand. I am the unhappiest of all woman."
"I fear that he is observing Thuringia, and if he suspects him what will become of us?"
"I will flee rather than expose him to the slightest danger."
"You can do more by staying here. Your departure, useless moreover, would make your lover die of sorrow. Don't worry. I am watching over everything. If we need to take serious steps, we will have to do so."
"Great Heavens! Of what steps are you speaking?"
"I don't know yet what the circumstances will require, but in any case it will require more courage than you have shown up to now. Think that great crimes are sometimes more necessary than great virtues and that to arrive at happiness, one has to resort to certain measures."
"Ah, I never want to be happy at that price."
"You will at least let us act for you?"
"I will never consent to any crime."
"Can sovereigns ever prevent this type of crime? Oh, I despair for you if you keep on in such errors."
"But what do you mean? … Explain yourself."
"I cannot do so yet. All depends on events."
"Do nothing which could afflict my conscience."
"It is the events alone which are responsible for what happens in life." And with that the count left.
A few days later Adelaide was talking to Bathilda.
"I don't know what he means by all this nor what he wants to do, but I perceive a plot of the most serious nature. I feel that he is plotting the death of my husband, and I will never allow that his life be put in danger."
"Fear nothing, Milady, I believe too much in the sense of justice of the Marquis of Thuringia to believe him capable of such means."
"Go and see what you can find out, Bathilda. Esteem your mistress enough to know that she is incapable of being in any way the cause of any misfortune."
"I know you too well, Milady, not to be convinced of that truth."
The Marquis of Thuringia seemed to be entirely unconcerned about the fact that the prince might be jealous of him. He talked to Adelaide every chance he got. Adelaide tried to warn him of this indiscretion.
"What would be the point of not going near you? Now that you are here it is the greatest happiness in my life to be with you."
"Isn't it enough for us to see each other every day?"
"That happiness serves only to make even more intense the desire of never leaving you."
"You see that that is impossible and that we cannot even, without being wrong, think of it for an instant."
"The count seems to have more hope than you do."
"Has he said anything which could cause you to have any hope?"
"Not yet, but I see that he is profoundly busy with what interests us."
"Oh, my tender friend, let's not think about anything which might give us remorse. Even our feelings toward each other are wrong."
"I see nothing wrong in it. Didn't you love me before knowing the one who troubles now your happiness?"
"That is the only thought I have to calm my conscience. I often make use of it, but most of the time I reject it. Then I see you, and I forget everything."
"Dear and delicate friend, why has Heaven created us for each other? Who knows what it reserves for us?"
"It is a fatal destiny which could bring about our happiness only at the expense of a crime."
"Is there any crime in loving? To me the only crime is in separating two beings who love each other."
"There is," said the princess putting her hand on the heart of the marquis, "the altar where I make an oath to cherish you all my life."
"Ah, let me seal it with my hand on that hand that I want for my own. Let the one of us who will go back on that oath perish immediately."
And the most ardent kiss on that hand held so tightly became the most tender token of their eternal fidelity.