CHAPTER CLVII.
THE PARTING.
They sat together in the little boudoir which had so often rung with their laughter, and where they had so often sneered at their titled dupes in Vienna.
There was no laughter to-day: the beautiful features of the Countess Baillou were contracted with alarm, and the frivolous Podstadsky was thoughtful and serious.
The countess was superbly dressed. A rich robe of velvet, embroidered with gold, fell in heavy, glistening folds around her graceful figure; a diadem of brilliants sparkled like a constellation upon the blackness of her luxuriant hair, and her exquisite neck and arms were covered with costly gems. She had just completed her toilet for a dinner given by the Princess Karl Liechtenstein, when Podstadsky had met her with the alarming intelligence which had obliged her to send an excuse.
For one whole hour they had been considering their situation— considering those words of the emperor; now planning one method of escape, now another,
"Then you do not believe that the danger is imminent?" said Podstadsky, after along, anxious pause.
"I do not," replied the countess, "The emperor has always been fond of advising other people, and of humbling the Austrian aristocracy above all, when the people are by to hear him, and he can make capital out of it to increase his popularity. I suppose his rudeness to you was all assumed, to make an impression upon the foolish populace. That is all."
Podstadsky shook his head. "The tone of the emperor was so pointed—it seemed as though some special meaning lay in his words."
"That, my dear Carlo, simply means that fear caused you to interpret them significantly."
"The words themselves were significant enough; and his look!—Oh,
Arabella, we are in danger! Dearest let us fly, fly at once!"
He had risen, and, in his anguish, had tried to draw her to himself. She put him quietly away, and contemplated him with a sneer. "No folly!" said She. "Even if the emperor had meant to warn you, his warning came too late to save you from the watchful police of Vienna."
"No, no, Arabella. I tell you that the emperor will facilitate my escape for my parents' sake. Oh, why did I not obey, and mount my horse at once, and fly to some sequestered vale where I might have found refuge from dishonor?"
"And where you might realize your mother's touching dream of becoming a boor, and repenting your sins in sackcloth and ashes! That maternal idyl still troubles your poor, shallow brain, does it? For my part, I think no spectacle on earth is so ridiculous as that of the repentant sinner. It is the most humiliating character in which a man can appear before the world, and it is unworthy of you, Carlo. Hold up your head and look this phantom of dancer in the face. It is but a phantom. The bright, beautiful reality of our luxurious life is substantially before us. Away with cowardice! He who treads the path which we have trodden, must cast all fear behind him. Had we been scrupulous, or faint-hearted, you would have been to-day a ruined nobleman, dependent upon the pittance doled out to you from parental hands, or upon some little office pompously bestowed by the emperor; and I—ha! ha!—I should have been a psalm-chanting nun, with other drowsy nuns for my companions through life, and a chance of dying in the odor of sanctity! We were too wise for that; and now the structure of our fortunes is complete. Its gilded dome reaches into the heaven of the most exclusive circles; princes, dukes, and sovereigns are our guests. In the name of all for which we have striven, Carlo, what would you have more?"
"I am afraid that the structure will fall and bury us under its ruins," said Carlo, shivering.
"Better that than inglorious flight. Stay where you are; show a bold front, and that will disarm suspicion. Why do you gaze at me so strangely?"
"I gaze at you because you are so beautiful," replied he, with a faint smile, "as beautiful as was that fallen angel who compassed the ruin of man!"
"I AM a fallen angel," returned she, proudly, "and you know it. Together we fell, together we have risen. So long as we smile, we shall compass the ruin of many men; but if once we frown, we shall be known as evil spirits, and our power is at an end. Smiles are the talismans that insure victory; so smile, Carlo, smile and be gay."
"I cannot, I cannot. My veins are chilled with vague terror, and ever before my eyes comes the pale and anguish-stricken face of my mother! Arabella, if you will not leave this accursed spot, let us die. Better is death than the dungeon and disgrace!"
He threw his arms around her, and pressed his hot, parched lips to hers. Again she disengaged herself, and her musical laugh rang out upon the stillness—clear, merry, silvery as ever. "Die! Are you tired of pleasure? I am not. I shall yet have many an intoxicating draught from its golden beaker. Die! As if we knew what came after death! But come; I pity your state of mind, and since you can no longer be happy in Vienna, we shall travel. Mark you! I say TRAVEL; but there shall be no flight "
Count Podstadsky uttered a cry of wild joy, and pressed the hand she gave him to his lips. "When shall we travel? Now?"
She shook her head. "That were flight. We start to-morrow "
"To-morrow!" cried he, exultingly, "to-morrow, at dawn of day?"
"By no means. To-morrow at noon, in the sight of the whole world."
"Be it so, then," sighed the count. "We go by different roads, and meet at Neustadt."
"Yes, at Neustadt. And now go, Carlo. We both have important arrangements to make before we leave."
"I have very little to do," laughed Podstadsky, who had already recovered his spirits. "My valuables all belong to the usurers. For some time past they have stationed an agent of theirs in my house as steward. He watches over their property; I have no interest in it."
"Why don't you pay them with your nice new bank-notes—hey, Carlo?"
Carlo grew troubled again. "I did try to do so, but they refused. They had given me gold, and must have gold in return."
"So much the better. Your bank-notes will meet with a better reception elsewhere," said Arabella, hurriedly. "But come, let us go to work. Burn all indiscreet papers, and take every thing that you can secrete. And now away with you! I must be alone, for I have enough to do to keep me up this livelong night. Clear your brows, my Carlo, and sleep free from anxiety. To-morrow we leave Vienna, and your trials will be at an end. Addio, caro amico mio, addio!"
He kissed her hand, and she accompanied him to the door. He closed it behind him, while she stood breathless, listening to his retreating footsteps. Now he was on the staircase. The heavy street door closed—a moment's delay, and his carriage rolled away. Yes, he was off at last. Thank Heaven, he was off!