"I request you to do so," replied the physician. "I demand that you go
to him immediately, and speak to him freely and unreservedly. His mind
is in need of a vigorous shock to become again conscious of its own
strength; when it has regained this consciousness, the body will rise
from its prostration."
"Doctor, I am somewhat afraid," said the baroness, anxiously. "He was of
late so nervous and irritable, you know, that the most trifling
occurrence caused him to tremble and covered his brow with perspiration.
I am afraid these stirring communications may make too powerful an
impression upon him."
"Never mind," exclaimed the physician; "let them make a powerful
impression upon him--let them even cause him to faint--I do not fear the
consequences in the least; on the contrary, I desire them, for the shock
of his nervous system will be salutary, and bring about a crisis that
will lead to his recovery."
"But, doctor, excuse me, you know he had a raging fever all night, and
is exhausted. What good will it do to communicate the news to him? He
cannot obey the king's call, and, at best, weeks must pass before
recovering sufficiently to attend to state matters."
"Ah, Baron von Stein accomplishes in days what others perform only in
weeks," exclaimed the physician, smiling. "He is one of those men whose
mind has complete control of his body. In his case, if you cure the one
you cure the other."
"But I doubt whether my husband will accept these offers of the king,"
said the baroness, hesitatingly; "he has been insulted too grossly."
"But he is a patriot in the best sense of the word," said M. von
Schladen; "he will forget personal insult when the welfare of the people
is at stake."
"And even though he should not accept," said the physician, "he receives
at least a gratifying satisfaction in the king's offer, and that will
assuredly be a balm for his wounds. I shall now go to him once more. If
he is entirely free from fever, I will let you come in, and you may tell
him every thing."
"But you will not go away," said the baroness; "you will stay here, so
as to be at hand in case any thing should happen."
"I shall remain in this room," said the physician, "and you may call me
if necessary. Now let me see first how our patient is, and whether I may
announce M. von Schladen's visit." He hastened back into the sick-room
without waiting for a reply; the baroness sank down on a chair, and,
folding her trembling hands, prayed fervently. High-Chamberlain von
Schladen looked at the door by which the physician had disappeared, and
his face expressed suspense and impatience.
At length the door opened again, and the physician appeared on the
threshold. "High-Chamberlain von Schladen," he said aloud, "come in;
Baron von Stein awaits you."
CHAPTER XXXII.
THE PATRIOT
High-chamberlain von Schladen entered the sick-room on tiptoe, preceded
by the Baroness von Stein, who, hastening to her husband, looked at him
anxiously. In fact, the baron looked very ill. His cheeks were hollow
and deadly pale; his eyes lay deep in their sockets, and were flashing
with that peculiar light emanating from the fever; his thin lips were
parched, and he constantly tried to moisten them with his tongue, while
his breathing was very painful.
M. von Schladen looked in profound emotion at the patient, and a feeling
of melancholy was apparent. He was obliged to acknowledge that the
baroness was right, and that this wasted form was not able to rise to
obey the king's call; he believed that he had come in vain, and would be
compelled to leave without having accomplished any thing, and this
conviction was accompanied with a sigh. The sick man heard it, and a
faint smile passed over his features. "You find me very ill then, M. von
Schladen?" he asked in a tremulous voice. "I suppose I am but the shadow
of the healthy, vigorous man who took leave of you at Konigsberg a few
months since? You see, I am still unable to give up my sympathies for
Prussia; indeed, I am like her in every respect. Prussia is also but a
shadow of what she was a short time ago; she is undergoing her
death-struggle, and will succumb unless a strong arm soon lift her up."
"But this strong arm will come," said M. von Schladen.
"You believe so?" asked Stein. "Would you were right! But all I hear is
disheartening. We live in a period of degradation and servitude, when we
can do nothing better than seek a refuge in the grave, the only place
where we may find liberty. You see that I am already on the brink. But I
will not now speak of myself, but of you. What brought you hither? To
what lucky accident am I indebted for your visit? My physician has told
me you had casually stopped in this town, and being informed of my
illness had desired to see me. What is your destination?"
"I am returning to Memel, to the King and Queen of Prussia," said M. von
Schladen.
"Ah, you are a faithful servant, and I envy you," said Baron von Stein,
"for your services are gratefully accepted; you are not treated with
contumely, and your zeal is not regarded as malice and self-will. You
may assist your country with your head, your arm, and your heart. You
are not doomed to step aside, and idly dream away your days instead of
seeking relief in useful activity. Oh, I repeat again, I envy you!"
While he was speaking, his pale cheeks had assumed some color, and his
voice, which, at first, had been faint, grew louder. But now, exhausted
by the effort, and by his profound emotion, he sank back on the pillow
and closed his eyes.
His wife bent over him, and wiped off the perspiration which covered his
brow in large drops. In the open door leading into the adjoining room,
appeared the kind face of the physician, who looked scrutinizingly at
the patient. He then nodded in a satisfied manner, and whispered to the
high-chamberlain: "Go on! go on! Tell him every thing. He can bear it."
Baron von Stein opened his eyes again and glanced at M. von Schladen.
"You did not yet tell me whence you came, my dear friend?" he said. "Was
your journey a mere pleasure-trip, or were graver purposes connected
with it?"
"It was no pleasure-trip, for what German cares nowadays for such
things?" said M. von Schladen. "My purpose, in undertaking this journey,
was not only a grave, but a sacred one. I undertook it for the welfare
of our country, and I come to solicit your advice. I know you loved
Prussia once; you will not, although you are no longer in her service,
withhold your sympathy from her, when you can be useful, you will
joyfully render her aid, will you not?"
"Yes, indeed I will," exclaimed Baron von Stein; "my thoughts were with
you all the time; my grief arises from your affliction and the
misfortunes of Prussia; every new blow inflicted upon her fell on me,
and her ruin prostrated me. Tell me, in what way can I aid you?"
"Your excellency, by assisting me in finding the man whom I am seeking;
on whom the eyes of all good Prussians are fixed, and who is alone able
to save the country, to reestablish its prosperity at home, and to
obtain for it respect and authority abroad. The man whom the queen calls
her friend, and of whom she expects help--to whom the king offers his
hand, and whom he begs (understand me well, begs) to sustain him with
his strong arm and his powerful mind, and, for the sake of Prussia, not
to remember the wrongs he suffered in by-gone days--your excellency, I
am seeking this high-minded man, who forgets insults, and yet does not
close his ears against the cry of his country; whom adversity does not
deter, and whom the burden to be laid on his shoulders does not cause to
tremble; who forgets his own interests in order to have the satisfaction
of saving a state to which, from his youth, he has devoted his
strength--the man in whom all patriots confide, whom Hardenberg, when
Napoleon's despotic will compelled him to resign his office, pointed out
to the king as the only one by whom Prussia might still be redeemed.
Your excellency, can you tell me where I may find this man?"
While M. von Schladen was speaking, Stein slowly raised his head to
listen. His countenance had undergone a marvellous change; his features
had regained their wonted expression, and his eyes beamed with energy.
"Your excellency," asked Schladen again, "can you tell me where I may
find this man for whom all Prussia is calling?"
"You have not yet told me his name," whispered Baron von Stein. "To find
him it is necessary to know his name."
"His name is on this letter which the Princess von Radziwill requested
me to deliver to him," said Schladen, taking one from his
memorandum-book, and handing it to the patient.
Baron von Stein quickly took it, and, on looking at the superscription,
he muttered, "My name! my name is on the letter!"
"And it is your name that is now on all Prussian lips--that the queen is
calling from afar--that the king--"
"Ah," interrupted Baron von Stein, "the king has insulted me too deeply;
I should almost dishonor myself if I forget it!"
"You will shed the most radiant honor on your name by forgiving it,"
exclaimed M. de Schladen. "The king has commissioned me to tell you that
he hopes in you alone. He will intrust to you the department of the
interior and of finance; he assures you of his most implicit confidence;
he promises never to allude again to what has passed between him and
you. Here, your excellency, is a communication from Minister von
Hardenberg, which will confirm all I have said."
He laid another letter on the table. Baron von Stein took it and looked
at the address with a faint smile. "It is Hardenberg's handwriting," he
said; "he is a genuine courtier, and takes it always for granted that
the king's will is a sacred law for every one. He calls me already
'Prussian Minister of Finance.' And the queen?" he then asked, raising
his eyes to M. von Schladen. "What does she say? Does she believe, too,
that I can forget, forgive, and return?"
"The queen believes it, because she wishes it, your excellency. 'Stein
is my last consolation,' she said to me when I took leave of her. 'Being
a man of magnanimity and the keenest sagacity, he may be able to
discover ways and means of saving the country that are as yet concealed
from us. Tell him that, when he comes, the sun will rise again for me;
tell him to remember the sacred vow I received from him to stand
faithfully by us, and to come when Prussia stands in need of him, and
calls him to her assistance. Tell him that his queen prays Heaven to
restore to her country the man who is a defence against wrong and
injustice, and one of the noblest sons of Germany.'"
Baron von Stein cast down his eyes; his lips were trembling; and tears
rolled slowly down his cheeks.
"Your excellency," said M. von Schladen, urgently, "will you not read
the letters? That from the Princess Louisa von Radziwill will give you a
more graphic description of the present situation of the court than I am
able to do; the one from Minister von Hardenberg will tell you what to
do, and how important and necessary it is that you should come as
speedily as possible. In Hardenberg's letter you will also find a brief
note from General Blucher, who joins in these solicitations. I have been
permitted to read these letters, that, if they were lost on the way, I
should, nevertheless, be able to communicate their contents to you. Will
you not read them?"
"Yes," said Baron von Stein, breathing more freely, "I will read them.
They are the first doves that, after the long deluge of affliction, come
to me with an olive-branch of peace. I will see what the letters
contain." He hastily opened that from the Princess Louisa and commenced
reading it. But the paper soon dropped from his hand; a death-like
pallor overspread his cheeks, and, almost fainting, he fell back on the
pillow. "Alas," he murmured mournfully, "I forget that I am a poor, sick
man! I cannot read; the letters swim before my eyes!" But this faintness
lasted only a moment; Stein then raised his head again, and turned his
eyes with a tender expression toward his wife, who was sitting at his
bedside, and watching all his movements with anxious suspense. "Dear
Wilhelmina," he said, "you have been my secretary during the last few
weeks, and have rendered evil tidings less disagreeable to me; will you
not read these cheering letters to me?"
The baroness bent over him, and, in place of a reply, kissed his
forehead. She then read as follows:
"Your friend Hardenberg and the newspapers will have informed you of the
melancholy end of all our hopes. Cowardice and weakness, perhaps more
than the luck of our enemies, have subjugated us, and Hardenberg's
resignation, which he tendered voluntarily, in order to be useful to us
even by this sacrifice, and to preserve the king from the humiliation of
dismissing him, causes us to feel our yoke painfully. I promised to
write to you about the king. He deserves our sympathy at this moment;
his courage and firmness have not been shaken by our last disasters; he
was ready to make any sacrifice, because he thought it better to fall
nobly than to live dishonorably. He clung with sincere attachment to
your friend Hardenberg, and just at this moment when all are deserting
him, when he has neither power nor will, he loses this well-tried
friend, who, actuated by his love of the country, and affection for his
master, left him with a grief that deeply moved my heart. At this moment
the eyes of us all are turning toward you, my dear Stein. From you we
hope for consolation, and for forgetfulness of the wrongs which have
removed you from us, and which you will be too generous to remember at a
time when he who insulted you only deserves your sympathy and
assistance. Can you withstand our solicitations? Can you see this
country deserted, and refuse to it the co-operation of those talents
that alone are able to raise us from our prostration? Hardenberg sees no
other hope for his master than in you, and if you are not restored to
us--if you do not yield to the wishes of those yearning for you, what is
to become of our future?
"I admit that to call upon you to share our fortune is to deem you
capable of the greatest disinterestedness; for nothing has ever been
done by you to deserve the conduct formerly manifested toward you; but
your soul is too generous to remember those insults, and I know you too
well not to be sure that you will unhesitatingly come to the assistance
of this unfortunate prince, who for five months possesses just claims to
sympathy. Even at this juncture he maintains his dignity; he has gained
friends and zealous adherents, and appears to me never more estimable
than since these disasters, in which I have seen him assert a courage
and resignation of which I should never have deemed him capable. It
grieved me to see Hardenberg depart; he himself is very sad, and I am
sure that only the hope of restoring you to the service of his master
sustains him. Do not refuse to comply with our request, my dear Stein,
and be not as cruel as that destiny which is taking from us all the
distinguished characters that were able to reconcile us with life and
mankind. I look for your reply with impatience; may it be favorable to
us! It needs no assurance of mine to make you believe in the
affectionate and constant attachment which I have always felt for you.
"LOUISA."
Stein listened to the letter with eyes half closed. A faint blush had
gradually suffused his cheeks, and a smile was playing on his lips. "And
what do you think of this letter, Wilhelmina?" he then asked. "What does
your heart reply to this call?"
"I am fearful for you, my beloved friend," said the baroness,
mournfully. "My heart shrinks from this career into which you will
reenter, and in which you will be exposed again to ingratitude, and the
persecutions of your enemies."
"Not to ingratitude," said M. von Schladen. "All Prussia will be
grateful to you, and the king will be the first to thank and reward you
with his friendship for having complied with his invitation. Your
excellency, will you not read the letter from Minister von Hardenberg?
It will tell you in the most convincing manner how firmly you may rely
on the king and on his gratitude, and how necessary it is that you
should repair to him as soon as possible."
"No, no, I will not hear any more," exclaimed Stein, in a loud voice.
"It shall not be said that the flattering words of a friend induced me
to do what is my duty. Call the doctor; I must see the doctor!"
"The doctor is here," said Dr. von Waldau, entering the room. "When
patients are able to shout in such stentorian tones, they must indeed
stand in need of assistance."
"Doctor," exclaimed Stein, "come here; feel my pulse, look me full in
the face, and tell me, upon your honor, when I shall be able to set
out."
The physician took the proffered hand and laid his finger on the pulse.
A pause ensued; all looked in breathless suspense on his face. The
doctor smilingly nodded. "It has turned out as I predicted," he
exclaimed. "The 'genius of Germany' has come to our assistance, and
saved her bravest and noblest champion. The pulse is regular and strong,
as it has not been for weeks. The crisis for which I hoped so long has
taken place. Baron von Stein, in two weeks you will be well enough to
set out."
"In two weeks!" exclaimed the baron, in a contemptuous tone of voice.
"You did not hear, then, that Prussia stands in need of me; that the
king calls me, and that Hardenberg tells me it is of the highest
importance I should immediately enter upon the duties of my office? No,
I shall not depart in two weeks, nor in two days, but immediately!" He
raised himself in his bed, and imperiously stretching out his arms, he
exclaimed, "My clothes! I will rise! I have no more time to be sick!
Give me my clothes!"
"But my beloved friend," exclaimed the baroness, in dismay, "this is
impossible; just consider that the fever has exhausted your strength,
that--"
"Hush, do not contradict him," whispered the physician. "The
contradiction would irritate him, and might easily bring about a fresh
attack of fever."
"My clothes! my clothes!" exclaimed Baron von Stein, louder and more
imperiously than before, and he cast angry glances on his wife.
The physician himself hastened to the clothes-press, and, taking the
silken dressing-gown from it, carried it to the patient. "Here is your
dressing-gown," he said; "let me be your _valet de chambre_." Baron von
Stein thanked him with a smile, and lifted up his arms that the garment
might be wrapped around him.
"And here are your slippers," said the baroness; "let me put them on
your feet."
"And permit me to support you when you rise," said M. von Schladen,
approaching the bed. "Oh, lean on me only for a moment; afterward the
whole of Prussia will lean on you."
Baron von Stein made no reply. He put on the dressing-gown and the
slippers, and then raised himself, assisted by M. von Schladen. But his
face was pallid, and large drops of perspiration gathered on his
forehead. He left his couch, and stood free and erect. "I am well
again!" he exclaimed. "Prussia calls me! I am not allowed to be ill;
I--" His voice died away in a faint groan; his head bent down, and his
form sank to the floor. M. von Schiaden and the baroness caught him in
their arms, and placed him again on his bed.
"Doctor," exclaimed the baroness, in a menacing tone, "if he die, you
are his murderer; you have killed him!"
"No," said the physician, quietly, "I have saved him. This swoon is the
last struggle of death with triumphant life. When Baron von Stein awakes
he will be no longer seriously ill, but convalescent. When he is
conscious again, the crisis is over. See, he begins to stir! Ah, his
brave mind will not suffer his body to rest, and will assuredly awaken
it."
The baron very soon opened his eyes, and looked with a perfectly calm
and conscious expression, first at his wife, then at the physician and
the king's messenger. "M. von Schladen," he said, "will you read to me
Hardenberg's letter? Wilhelmina, lay your arm around me and support my
head a little. Waldau is right; I will not be able to set out to-day. I
am still very weak."
"But you will be able to set out in ten days," exclaimed the physician.
"You see I yield to you. I ask no longer for two weeks, but only for ten
days."
Baron von Stein gave him his hand with a grateful glance. "And now,
High-Chamberlain von Schladen, I request you to read once more
Hardenberg's communication." M. von Schladen looked inquiringly at the
physician, who nodded his consent.
"Read, read," said the baron, entreatingly, supporting his head against
his wife's shoulder. M. von Schladen opened the letter, and laid General
Blucher's note, enclosed in it, on the table and commenced reading.
The letter urgently requested Baron von Stein to accept the two
departments of finance and of the interior, which the king wished to
intrust to him because the welfare of Prussia required it. Besides,
Hardenberg asked Stein to repair immediately to the king, because it was
of the highest importance that the ears of Frederick William should not
be besieged again by hostile insinuations. He gave him cautious hints as
to the manner in which he would have to win the confidence of Frederick
William, and assured him that he would retain it, provided he never
pretended to rule over the king. He called upon him in the name of
Prussia and Germany not to decline the difficult task, but to fulfil the
hopes which patriots were reposing in him. He advised him to impose such
conditions as he might deem prudent before accepting the offer, and to
address a letter to his majesty in regard to them.
A pause ensued. Stein had listened to the words of his friends in
silence. All looked at him anxiously. His face was calm, and when he
slowly opened his eyes, they indicated entire composure.
"High-chamberlain von Schladen," asked Stein, "you have made the long
journey from Memel to this place for no other purpose than to deliver to
me these letters and the order of the king?"
"It was the only object of my journey," said M. von Schladen. "I
travelled by way of Copenhagen and Hamburg, in order to avoid French
spies."
"And when do you intend setting out again?" asked the baron.
"Your excellency, as soon as I have obtained a reply."
"Ah," exclaimed Stein, with a gentle smile; "you want to prevent me,
then, from writing immediately, that I may retain you for some time as a
welcome guest?"
"No, your excellency, let me entreat you to give me at once your reply
to the solicitations with which the king and the queen--all
Prussia--nay, all Germany turn to you, and implore you to lend to the
fatherland your strong arm."
"Alas, my hand is so feeble that it can scarcely hold a pen!" said Baron
von Stein, sighing. "Wilhelmina, you are always my kind and obliging
friend--will you now also lend me your hand, and be my secretary?"
The baroness cast a mournful and loving look on him. "I read in your
eyes," she said, sadly, "that you have made up your mind, and that, even
though I implore you to desist for my sake and that of our children, it
would be in vain. We shall lose you again; your house and my heart will
be lonely, and only my thoughts will travel with you! But it hardly
becomes me to dissuade you from your purpose. In these days of general
distress it does not behoove German patriots to confine themselves to
the happiness of their own firesides, and to shut their ears against the
cries of the fatherland. Your heart, I know, belongs to me. Your mind
and your abilities belong to the world. Go, then, my beloved husband,
and do your duty; I will fulfil mine." She kissed the baron's forehead,
and then stepped to the table at the window. "Your secretary is ready,"
she said, taking the pen; "tell me what to write."
Baron von Stein raised himself, and dictated in a firm voice as follows:
"TO THE KING'S MAJESTY:--Your gracious orders and the offer of the
department of the interior, have been communicated to me by a letter
from Minister von Hardenberg, _de dato_ Memel, July 10, which I received
on the 9th of August. I accept the office unconditionally, and leave it
to your royal majesty to arrange with what persons, or in what relations
to my colleagues, I am to discharge my duties. At this moment of my
country's distress it would be wrong to consult my own personal
grievances, particularly as your majesty manifests so exalted a
constancy in adversity.
"I should have set out immediately, but a violent tertian fever is
confining me to my bed; as soon as my health is better, which I trust
will be the case in ten days or two weeks, I shall hasten to your
majesty. Your obedient servant,
"STEIN."
Baron von Stein kept his word. Two weeks afterward, although still
suffering and feeble, he entered his travelling-coach to repair to
Memel, and to hold again in his powerful hands the reins of the Prussian
government.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
JOHANNES VON MULLER.
The French authorities had informed the municipality of Berlin that
peace had been concluded at Tilsit, between the Emperor of the French
and the King of Prussia. They ordered that the inhabitants of Berlin, in
view of this important event, should manifest their gratification in a
public manner. German singers were to perform a _Te Deum_ at the
cathedral in honor of this treaty, and at night the people were to show,
by a general illumination, that they rejoiced at the restoration of
peace. The rulers of the city had issued orders to this effect, and the
citizens were obliged to obey, although deeply affected by the
humiliating terms of the treaty, which the _Berlin Telegraph_ had
communicated in a jubilant editorial. The capital of Prussia had to
celebrate the disgrace of the country by a festive illumination. But the
public officials could not compel the people to give their hearts to
such outward rejoicings, or even to manifest their approval by their
presence. At the cathedral, the organist with his choristers sang the
ordered _Te Deum_ to the accompaniment of kettle-drums, but the church
was empty. Only the French officers and a few hired renegades witnessed
the solemnity.
At night, all Berlin was in a blaze of colored flame, but the streets
were deserted. No glad populace were thronging them--no cheering or
merry laughter was to be heard; only here and there, troops of French
soldiers were loitering and singing loudly; or a crowd of idlers, such
as are to be found wherever their curiosity can be gratified, and who,
devoid of honor and character, are the same in all cities. The better
classes remained at home, and disdained to cast even a fugitive glance
on the dazzling scene. Nowhere had more lights been kindled than were
ordered by the French authorities. At one house, however, on Behren
Street, a more brilliant illumination was to be seen; variegated lamps
were there artistically grouped around two busts that stood in strange
harmony, side by side, and excited the astonishment of all passers-by.
They were the busts of Frederick the Great and Napoleon, on whose
foreheads beamed the same radiant light. At this house lived Johannes
von Muller, the historian of Switzerland, who had caused this exhibition
to be made, and who surveyed his work with smiling face. "It is all
right," he said to himself, "it is a beautiful spectacle--those splendid
heads; and it does my heart good that I have succeeded in this annoyance
to my opponents. They shall see that I am not afraid of their attacks,
and that I am quietly pursuing my career, in spite of their slanders.
They call me a renegade, because I did not escape with the rest; they
call me a friend of the French, because I delivered a French address at
the Academy on the birthday of Frederick the Great, and their vulgar
minds were displeased because in that speech I dared to compare Napoleon
with Frederick. It is also distasteful to them that I have renounced the
title of secret councillor of war, and call myself, briefly and simply,
Johannes Muller. As if a title were not a superfluous addition to
Johannes Muller, whom Germany loved before he had a title, and whom she
will love when he has one no longer. Yes, my enemies envy my glory, they
call me a friend of the French simply because I do not abuse them in
their absence, and in their presence keep quiet and assume a stupid
indifference. I keep my hands free; I write openly; I am no hidden
reviler of the French, but a public worshipper of all that is sublime.
For this reason I have placed here, side by side, the busts of the two
greatest men to whom the last century has given birth. And now, great
heroes! shine upon me in the radiance which a man whom the people have
honored with the name of the German Tacitus, has kindled for you! Shed
your lustre on the city, and tell the Germans that Johannes von Muller
does homage to genius, regardless of nationality or birth! Watch over
the study of the historian, and while he works guard him from the
spirits of evil!" He waved his hands to the busts, and was about to sit
down to his books and papers, when his old servant entered to inform him
that a gentleman wished to see the councillor of war immediately.
"Michael Fuchs," exclaimed Muller, "how often have I told you not to
address me by that absurd title, which, I hope, I shall soon cast off as
the ripe chestnut its capsule. Councillor of War! For my part, I never
counselled any one to commence this senseless war, and now that there is
peace, I scarcely regard myself as a Prussian functionary; and yet you
continue repeating that ridiculous title!"
"Well, well," said the old servant, smiling, "when we received that
title four years ago, we were overjoyed and felt very proud. It is
true, times have changed, and I believe that Clarke, the French general,
with whom we dined again to-day, does not like the title much. We may,
therefore, cast it aside. But, sir, while we are quarrelling here, the
gentleman outside is waiting to be admitted."
"You are right, Michael Fuchs," said Johannes von Muller, in a gentle
tone, as if he desired to pacify him; "let the stranger come in."
Old Michael nodded pleasantly to his master. Opening the door and
stepping out, he said aloud: "Come in, sir! I have announced you, and M.
von Muller awaits you."
"He is a very good, faithful old fellow!" murmured Johannes von Muller,
meeting the visitor who was entering the room.
"Oh, M. von Nostitz," exclaimed Muller, joyously, "you here in Berlin! I
thought you were on your estates."
"I was not on my estates, but at Memel with our king," said M. von
Nostitz, gravely. "Honored with some commissions by his majesty, I have
arrived here, and as one of them concerns you, Mr. Councillor, I have
hastened to call upon you."
"The king, then, has received my letter at last and grants my
resignation?" asked Muller, quickly.
"The king has received your letter," replied M. von Nostitz.
"And my resignation? You come to notify me that it has been accepted?"
exclaimed Muller, impatiently.
"Then you are really in earnest about your request?" asked M. von
Nostitz, almost sternly. "I must tell you that none of us would believe
it, and that I have come to entreat you in the name of the king and the
queen--in the name of all your friends, who, faithful to their duty,
followed the royal couple, to change your mind and remain with us. The
queen, especially, refuses to believe that Johannes von Muller, the
great historian, who, but a few months ago, spoke and wrote for Prussia
with so ardent an enthusiasm, now intends to leave us voluntarily and to
escape in faithless egotism from the calamities that have overwhelmed us
all. I am to beg you in the name of the queen to remain with us. Her
majesty cannot and will not believe that you are in earnest about this
resolution to resign your office and leave the country. She has
commissioned me to beg you not to treat the state at this critical
juncture in so ignominious a manner as to despair of it, and assures you
that your salary will always be punctually paid. She admonishes you
through me to think of your numerous friends here, of the favorable
disposition of the Prussian government toward you, of the agreeable life
you are leading in Berlin, and, finally, of the work on Frederick the
Great, which you have just commenced, and to remain in the Prussian
service."
"The kindness and solicitude manifested by her majesty cannot but
profoundly touch my heart," exclaimed Muller, in a tremulous voice, "and
I wish from the bottom of my heart, which is truly loyal and devoted to
the royal house of Prussia, that I were allowed to comply with these
gracious words. Her majesty and all my friends know the high opinion and
sanguine hopes which I entertain with regard to Prussia, and that I feel
convinced Providence has intrusted to this state the championship of
truth, liberty, and justice in Germany."
"The queen is right also in saying that I am leading quite an agreeable
life here; and that Berlin, if it should become a great centre of
education for the north, would be a highly interesting place. It is very
true, too, that I have warm friends here; that I am living at a fine
villa; that I have no indispensable duties to perform every day, and
that my salary has hitherto been promptly paid. But I confess I feel
attracted toward my dear friends in Southern Germany and Switzerland. I
am longing for peace and quiet, to finish my history of the land of
Tell, but here I do not see any prospect of it. I am afraid, on the
contrary, that the ferment and commotion of affairs will last a good
while yet. I have been assured that important reforms and reductions in
the financial administration of the country are in contemplation, and
that men of high rank, who have served the state for half a century, and
are by no means wealthy, will suffer; how, then, could I hope that these
reforms would leave me untouched, when I have been but three years in
the Prussian service?"
"That is to say, you are afraid of losing your salary, notwithstanding
the queen's assurances?" asked M. von Nostitz.
"That is to say, I am unfortunately not rich enough to be contented with
less; I have nothing but my salary, and have to pay my debts with it.
When Prussia lost two-thirds of her revenues, I offered to give up my
position here, which yields me an income of three thousand dollars. I
believe that was honorable, and will cast no reproach on my character
and sentiments."
"That is to say, sir, you tendered your resignation because the King of
Wurtemberg offered you a professorship at the University of Tubingen."
"But I should never have accepted it had I not deemed it incumbent upon
me not to receive any money at the hands of Prussia at a time when her
exchequer is hardly able to pay the salary of a superfluous savant. Take
into consideration that, when I accept this offer, which would first
necessitate my removal from the Prussian service, I cannot assuredly be
charged with having done so from motives of avarice. Other reasons impel
me to leave a pleasant position in the finest city of Germany, and move
to a small university town, where I shall have only half the salary I am
receiving here. I shall live in a remote corner of the world, but be
enabled to lead a calm, undisturbed life, and finish the works I have
commenced."
"All my remonstrances, the wishes of the queen, the exhortations of your
friends, are in vain, then?" asked M. von Nostitz.
"I requested his majesty the King of Prussia in an autograph letter to
accept my resignation," said Muller, evasively; "I want, above all, a
categorical reply whether I must remain or go."
"You may go, sir," exclaimed Nostitz, almost contemptuously. Taking a
paper from his memorandum-book, he added, "here, sir, is your
dismission. I was ordered to deliver it into your hands only when my
solicitations and the representations made in the name of the queen
should make no impression upon you. You are free; the king dismisses you
from the service; Prussia has nothing further to do with you. Seek your
fortune elsewhere; your glory you will leave here. Farewell!" Saluting
him haughtily, and without giving him time to reply, M. von Nostitz
turned and left the room.
Johannes von Muller gazed after him with a long, mournful look. "Another
man who will charge me before my friends and before the world with
treachery, perfidy, and meanness!" he said, shrugging his shoulders.
"Oh, stupidity and empty words! They want to accuse me of treachery
because it suits them best, and because they refuse to comprehend that a
poor savant ought at least to be protected from want in order to be able
to live for science. A reduction of salaries and pensions is impending;
I owe it to myself and to the works I have commenced, to provide against
this misfortune, and to seek a place where I can labor without being
disturbed, and, thank God! I have found it. Now I may go to Tubingen,
for I am free!" He took the paper from the table, and hastily breaking
the seal read the contents. "Yes," he repeated, "I am free! I can go.
All hail Tubingen! so near the Alps, so near the grand old forest! In
thy tranquillity I will return to my early enthusiasm as to the bride of
my youth! My history of Switzerland will at last be completed and
bequeathed to posterity! Already methinks I breathe the pure air of the
mountains; and sunny Italy, while I cannot return to her, invites me to
thee, quiet Tubingen!"
Johannes von Muller did not perceive that, while he was speaking to
himself, the door behind him had softly opened, and a gentleman, wrapped
in a cloak, his face shaded by a broad-brimmed hat, had entered the room
and overheard the last words. The savant, staring at the muscular form
of this stranger, drew back in surprise. "What does this mean?" he
muttered. "Where is Michael Fuchs?"
"Michael Fuchs is outside, and considers it very natural that an old
friend should desire to surprise his master rather than be solemnly
announced," said the stranger, approaching and taking off his hat.
"Frederick von Gentz!" exclaimed Muller, in a joyful voice, yet not
altogether free from fear. "My friend, you dare to come hither, and yet
you must know that the emperor of the French is highly exasperated at
you; that he believes you to be the author of all sorts of seditious
pamphlets, and that it would be very agreeable to him to have you
arrested and confined."
"Yes, it is true," said Gentz, in his careless, merry way, "Napoleon
Bonaparte does me the honor of being afraid of me and my pen, and would
like to render me harmless, as he did poor Palm. Once I was in imminent
danger of falling into the hands of his police, and I escaped in
disguise, but only after a great deal of trouble."
"And yet you dare to come to the seat of the French administration in
Germany?" exclaimed Muller. "Oh, my friend, your danger nearly deprives
me of the delight I feel in seeing you again, and I have to mingle my
loving salutations with warnings and presentiments!"
"You are right; I was rather bold in entering the cobweb of the French
spiders," said Gentz. "Still, it is not so dangerous as you believe, and
you may be perfectly at ease so far as I am concerned. I am here with a
charming lady friend, the Princess Bagration. I figured on her passport
as her private secretary, and have a regular Russian one of my own,
purporting to be issued to M. de Gentzowitch. Besides, no one suspects
me here; we have just arrived, and will leave Berlin to-morrow before
daybreak to return to Dresden. We are now at peace with France, and the
authorities here will hardly dare to lay hands on a subject of the
Emperor of Russia, the friend and admirer of the Emperor of the French.
You see, therefore, you need not be afraid about me, and I may safely
chat with you for an hour here in your study."
"Then, my dear friend, let me welcome you," exclaimed Muller; "let us
enjoy this hour, and renew the pledge of friendship." Muller welcomed
Gentz with great cordiality, but the latter did not share the ardor of
his friend.
"You have remained faithful to our reminiscences?" Gentz asked, as
Muller led him to the sofa, and sat by his side. "You have not forgotten
the past, and your heart still retains its old friendship?" While
uttering these words, he fixed his dark eyes on the face of Johannes von
Muller, who seemed not to be able to bear his steadfast gaze, and became
embarrassed.
"Oh, my friend!" he exclaimed, "how can you ask whether I remember other
days? My heart frequently feels exalted at the idea of friendship, which
so few can appreciate at its true value. What attachment was that of
Jonathan, himself a victorious warrior, for Jesse's noble son! How great
Jonathan was, who knew that the throne of Israel would pass from his
house to David! I was always affected by David's exclamation at
Jonathan's death. I thought of it just now. And Scipio had a
disinterested friendship for Lælius, although he was aware that envious
men desired to rob him of the glory of having conquered Carthage, and
ascribed every thing to the skilful plans of Lælius. Just as if, when I
narrate the heroic deeds of our ancestors, some one should say, 'The
best passages were written by his friend!' What Scipio felt was once
illustrated, at a private dinner, by Ferdinand of Brunswick, the hero of
Crefeld and Minden. He also had a friend, and to him were attributed the
successes of the prince. Ferdinand himself smilingly said to me,
'Between real friends it is a matter of indifference to whom the credit
is given.' Oh, the spirits of David, Jonathan, and Scipio, must have
rejoiced at these words as heartily as I did. So, my dear Gentz, you ask
me whether I have forgotten our friendship?"
"Words, words!" exclaimed Gentz, indignantly. "Instead of deeds, you
have nothing but words. I will speak to you plainly, and with the
sincerity of a true German. That is what I have come for."
"Like a true German?" repeated Muller. "Are there still any true
Germans? Are they not by this time extinct, leaving behind only slaves
and renegades? This is not the age for true Germans, and if any really
exist, they ought to hide themselves and be silent."
"And you can say that--you who once called so enthusiastically for
deeds?" exclaimed Gentz, indignantly. "Listen to me, Johannes von
Muller! I tell you once more, it is for your sake that I have come. I
wanted to appear before you either as your guilty conscience or as your
friend, as your judge or as your ally. I refused to believe in all that
was told me about you. I would trust only my own ears, my own eyes.
Johannes von Muller, I have come to ask you: Do you still remember the
oath we took in so solemn a manner at Frankfort?"
"I do," said Johannes von Muller, timidly. "Carried away by the
enthusiasm of our hopes, we covenanted for the welfare of Germany, and
especially for her deliverance from foreign tyranny."
"We swore to unite in active love for Germany, and in active hatred
against France," exclaimed Gentz, solemnly. "I have fulfilled my oath; I
have toiled incessantly for the deliverance of Germany. The persecutions
I have suffered at the hands of the French, and Napoleon's wrath, speak
for me! I have well improved my time. But what have you done? Where are
the friends enlisted for our covenant? Where are the allies gathered
around you to assist against France? The time for action is coming, and
we must be ready to fight the battle and expel the tyrant. Johannes von
Muller, where are the troops you have enlisted--the men you have gained over to our cause?" |
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