IV.—CONFIRMED IN POWER.
With triumphant expression of countenance Count Adam von Schwarzenberg walked to and fro in his cabinet. The Chamberlain Werner von Schulenburg had just left him, and the glad tidings which he had brought from the young Elector had banished all doubts, all cares from the Stadtholder's heart.
"I did him injustice," he said cheerfully to himself. "Frederick William was not my enemy, not my opponent! He was only the son of his father, and he will now also walk in his father's ways. I therefore remain what I am, remain Stadtholder, the lord of the Mark! And," he continued, more softly, "I would have put this amiable Prince out of the way! Who knows whether it would have been for my advantage if he had died and my son stepped into his place! My son is of my blood—that is to say, he is ambitious and thirsts after power and distinction. He would not have left the government in my hands, if he could have wrested it from me, and perhaps I would not have remained Stadtholder in the Mark had it been in his power to displace me!"
The count had thrown himself into a fauteuil, and supported his head on his hand. The triumphant expression had long since faded from his features, which were mow grave and lined by care.
"It pleases me not," he murmured, after a long pause—"no, it pleases me not at all that my son associates so constantly with Goldacker, Kracht, and Rochow at Spandow. They are disorderly fellows, who recognize no law or restraint, and find their sole pleasure in tumult and strife. It would seem fine to them if they could embroil father and son, for they would surely fish in the troubled waters, and draw out some advantage for themselves, which is ever their only concern. They exert an evil influence over my son, I know that, and it would be infinitely better for him to go away from here and—Ha! a good thought! I shall immediately carry it out."
He started up and grasped the large gold bell, which had been recently presented to him by the Emperor. The clear, sonorous tones called a smile to the count's lips.
"Yes, yes," he said, "the old Elector is dead, and I ring the new times in; yet the new era is but a repetition of the old, and the end remains ever the same, although the means by which we attain it differ. I used to whistle, now I ring, but the object remains identically the same—to summon serviceable spirits to my side.
"They do not come, though," he continued after a long pause, in which he had awaited in vain the appearance of a lackey. "No, these, my serviceable spirits come not; they incline not to the new order of things, and prefer clinging to the old."
He took the little golden whistle, lying on the table beside the bell, and gave a loud, shrill call with it. Immediately the door opened and a lackey appeared.
"Why have you kept me waiting?" asked the count imperiously. "Did you not hear the bell?"
"Yes, your excellency," replied the lackey, with reverential mien, "I heard ringing. It was the beadle, giving notice that two women were to be put in the pillory on the fish market for committing twenty thefts between them!"
"Stupid fool! It was I who rang!" cried the count. "Did I not yesterday notify you through the majordomo that I should no longer call you with a whistle, but with a bell?"
"It is true, your excellency, and I beg your pardon for forgetting it," replied the lackey humbly.
"Mark it for all time to come," commanded the count. "Go now and tell my son, Count John Adolphus, that I wish to speak with him, and request him to come to me."
The lackey bowed obsequiously and left the apartment. He paused behind the closed door, and with defiant, angry countenance, shook his clinched fist.
"You will no longer call us by a whistle," he muttered wrathfully, "and yet you whistle for your parrot and your dogs. But that is quite too good for your servants and lackeys, and they must now listen for that sheep bell. Tinkle and ring for us, will you, as if you were the beadle and we good-for-nothing folks to be put in the pillory? Ah me! every day the rich and high become more haughty, and the poor and lowly must every day put up with more! We had hoped, indeed, that other times would come, and that the young Elector would shove that old tyrant of a Stadtholder aside, and oust him from his dignities and offices. But Count Adam von Schwarzenberg retains his place, and the only change for us is that he rings for us instead of whistling as of old. We must just submit, and when he rings obey his orders as if he whistled."
With a deep sigh and melancholy air the lackey now walked off to execute his lord's commands, and summon Count John Adolphus to his father. This young gentleman made haste to obey the call.
"My son," cried the Stadtholder, himself opening his cabinet door, "I recognized your step and came to meet you."
"You have something very urgent to say to me then, since you have so anxiously expected me?" asked John Adolphus, pressing his father's hand to his lips.
"Yes, much that is urgent," replied the Stadtholder. "The young Elector's envoy has arrived, and brought me a first missive from him."
"Good news?" asked his son hurriedly.
"Yes, good news. The Elector confirms me in all my offices and dignities. I remain Stadtholder in the Mark, Director of the War Department—in short, what I am, whence follows as a matter of course that the Elector Frederick remains what his father was—my obedient servant. My son, the power has not fallen from my hand, and your heritage remains."
"I assure you, my gracious father, I have but little desire to enter upon this heritage of mine," cried young Count Adolphus, shrugging his shoulders. "May I long remain what I am now, the son of the Stadtholder in the Mark, the coadjutor of the Grand Master of the Order of St. John."
"I thank you, Adolphus, for this kind and friendly wish," said Count Adam, giving his hand to his son. "It proves to me that you love your old father, and that delights me. Truly, man is a wonderful creature, not being able to live for himself alone, but always longing for some sympathetic heart on which to lean. I have at last made the discovery that I have a heart."
"And I," said Count Adolphus, laughing—"I have just discovered that I no longer have a heart."
"Or rather, you are sick at heart, are you not?" inquired his father quickly. "My son, you have avoided me of late—you have turned from me, you no longer confide in me."
"I have nothing to confide, most revered sir," replied Count Adolphus, smiling. "I lead a merry, harmless life, and care for nothing."
"For nothing?" repeated the count. "Not even for the Princess Charlotte
Louise?"
Count Adolphus slightly shuddered, and his cheeks paled a little, but he carelessly shook his head, and continued to smile.
"My son," continued his father, "I ask you to-day, as I did two years ago, on what terms are you with the Princess Charlotte Louise? During all this time you have invariably eluded my efforts to converse on the subject. I indulged you, for I know my prudent, cautious son, and waited for him to give me his confidence voluntarily. Hitherto, however, I have but waited in vain, so that I am compelled to take the initiative, and sue for your confidence. Give it to me, Adolphus, tell me whether you love the Princess Charlotte Louise."
"Wherefore?" asked Count Adolphus. "How would it profit you?"
"Me? Not at all, but perhaps it may profit you to tell me the truth. The lofty hopes we once indulged in have come to naught, destiny has not willed their fruition. We have been disappointed in our hope of seeing George William's daughter become his heiress, and exalt her husband into an Elector of Brandenburg. Frederick William is Elector, he has entered upon his father's estates to their full extent. But the Princess Charlotte Louise is still unmarried, and has remained so because she loves you and is waiting for you."
"She has made me wait," cried the young count, with a sudden outburst of passion. "She kept me standing and waiting two hours before a locked door, and never, while I live, never, shall I forget the shame, the torture, and degradation of those two hours of vain expectation. Oh, father, see what power you have over me! I swore then that no human being should ever hear of the insult put upon me by that haughty Prince's daughter, and yet I am confessing it to you now. Pity me not, say nothing, nothing at all, for each word but aggravates my pain and makes my heart swell with indignation and grief. Oh, I loved her, trusted her, I dreamed of a proud and brilliant future, which I should owe to her! And she played her part in such masterly style, her countenance wearing a look of such innocence and candor! O father! I loved her, and I, the experienced man of the world, allowed myself to be deceived by that young girl, who knew nothing of the world, and was yet such an accomplished hypocrite! Think not that I was a mere idle coxcomb, arrogantly basing his expectations upon his wishes. No, she deceived me, she disappointed me! You should have seen her at that fête which you gave to the Electoral Prince. How tenderly she leaned upon my arm, as we walked through the greenhouse, with what glowing cheeks, with what a blissful smile did she listen to my protestations of love, with what amiable bashfulness did she respond to them! She even anticipated my boldest hopes and desires, and when I ventured to ask for a rendezvous, not only consented to it, but gave me a proof that she would have granted it without waiting for me to seek one. There, in the greenhouse, she pressed a little note into my hand, which stated clearly and distinctly that she appointed ten o'clock of the following evening for a rendezvous with me at the castle. And yet all was falsehood and deceit—all only invented for the purpose of punishing the presumptuous fool who had dared to lift his eyes to the proud Princess! Oh, how she laughed perhaps, and mocked me with her sister, mother, and brother, while I stood below before the locked door and waited, finally being obliged to slink away, burying my rage and despair in my heart! I fancy her spying from a neighboring window, watching me, and enjoying my confusion as I stood there knocking at a bolted door, having at last to go off silent and bowed down. It makes me furious to think of this, and yet continually the idea haunts me, leaving me no rest, until the remembrance of these two dreadful hours becomes absolute torture. O father! why have you wrenched this secret from my heart?—why have you persuaded me to tell you, what I have not even revealed to my father confessor?"
"I am glad, my son, that I have succeeded in opening this secret," said the count quietly. "I say opening, for like a festering sore it has rankled in your bosom, and believe me, Adolphus, since it has been opened, you will experience relief and your heart will heal. It has befallen many another man to be caught in the snares of a coquette, and to have a few costly illusions dispelled. But consider, my son, each illusion lost is an experience gained, and experience is cheaply bought with the dreams of the heart. Experience, you know, brings knowledge of the world, and knowledge of the world forms the diplomatist and statesman. You are already, my son, no despicable statesman, and you will some day play a great game, even though you are not the Electoral Princess's husband. For the rest I can give you one comforting assurance, and relieve your mind of an oppressive consciousness. In order to do this I have allowed you to vent your rage, and listened with attentive ear to your passionate complaints. My consolation is this: you have never loved the Princess Charlotte Louise—that is to say, never loved her with your heart, but only with your vanity and ambition. It was very flattering to you to be loved by a Princess, and ambition whispered to you that through your wife you might become reigning Elector, if the Electoral Prince were only put out of the way by fate or some other obliging hand. There was surely some prospect of this, and you know how exultingly we both looked forward to such a future. But we made shipwreck of those plans, and now it is too late to build them anew. However, let us not mourn over the past, but forget it. This hour has witnessed your last lament over your dead past. Its knell has been rung, let us both now doom it to oblivion. I have retained one thing in my memory, however, and that is the note which the incautious Princess gave you that evening in the greenhouse. Do you still possess it?"
"Yes, I still possess it, and as often as I look at it my heart is like to burst with indignation and wrath!"
"On the contrary, Adolphus, you ought to rejoice whenever you look at it, for you can turn this little note into a formidable weapon against the Electoral house. With this note you can some day force the young Elector to make you my successor, confirm you in the rank of Grand Master of the Knights of St. John, or even, if you still wish it, make you the husband of his sister Charlotte Louise. Ah! my son, a note in which the Elector's sister invites you to a rendezvous by night is worth more to you, indeed, than if you could go out against your enemy with an army, for an army might be vanquished, but in this billet-doux of the Princess each stroke of her hand becomes a soldier fighting with invincible armor."
"You are right, most gracious father," said Count Adolphus, with a sinister expression of face. "The day may come when I shall march out these soldiers against the faithless Princess and her whole house! I hate her, I hate them all, and my whole heart longs for revenge, and—"
"Your excellency," said a chamberlain, approaching hastily—"your excellency, a courier from Königsberg has just arrived, and is the bearer of this dispatch from the Elector."
The Stadtholder took the proffered packet, and by a hurried sign dismissed the chamberlain.
"A courier from Königsberg," he said, with a slight shaking of the head, as he examined the great sealed envelope which he held in his hand. "A writing from the Electoral Government Office, when Schulenburg was just with me this very day, the bearer of verbal communications! I do not understand it!"
"The best plan would be, most revered father, to open the letter!" cried
Count Adolphus briskly. "You will then see what news it contains."
The Stadtholder made no answer, but tore off the cover and drew forth the inner paper. Slowly he unfolded this, and read.
His son had involuntarily advanced a few steps nearer, and watched his father's countenance with the impatience of suspense. He saw him turn pale, his brow darken, and his lips become firmly compressed.
"The letter contains bad news?" he said breathlessly.
"Not merely bad but astonishing news," replied the count, with forced composure. "The Elector here makes several requirements of me, and not directly, but through his private secretary Götz."
"What presumption!" exclaimed his son passionately.
"How can that little Elector dare to forward a writ of chancery to you, the mighty and influential Stadtholder in the Mark, instead of addressing his desires and requests to you privately in his own handwriting?"
"It shows at all events a little negligence and want of formality," replied his father thoughtfully, "although the Elector may certainly plead as his excuse the many claims upon his time. For the same reason he only gave Schulenburg verbal messages for me."
"And may I ask what the Elector demands of your grace? Or is this an indiscretion on my part?"
"No, my son, you shall learn it. In the first place, the Elector requires me to send unopened to him at Königsberg all letters arriving here addressed to him, and not to open and answer them in his name as hitherto. The Elector further desires me to conclude no act of government without having previously called together the privy council. In the third place, the Elector directs me forthwith to require of all the governors and officers of the forts an oath of allegiance to himself. He lastly asks, if I can make it convenient to come to Prussia, that we may confer together, and that he may have the benefit of my aid and advice."
"And what answer will your grace return to these demands?"
"As regards the first requirement, I shall reply that the Elector's will is law, and that all writings shall be henceforth forwarded to him unopened. As to the second demand, I shall represent that it is now simply impossible to gratify, since only a single member of the old privy council is yet alive. As to binding the officers and commandants by oath to their duty," continued the count slowly, "I shall but require a token of their disposition to fulfill existing engagements. And lastly, as the Elector wishes it, I can hardly refuse him my advice; so that I will go to him in Prussia."
"No," cried Count Adolphus impatiently, "no, father, you shall not. You shall not accept this artfully contrived invitation. You dare not go to Prussia. My God, sir, are your usually keen and penetrating eyes so blinded that they can not see what is so very palpable? Do you really not perceive that the Elector only wants to entice you away, in order to get you in his power, in order noiselessly and quietly to put you out of the way? Ostensibly you are to go to Königsberg to advise the young, inexperienced Elector. That is the pretext, the sand which they would scatter in the eyes of yourself, your friends, the Emperor, yea, all Germany, so that no one can see what is going on, or by any possibility guess what will happen. You may set out for Königsberg, but you will never get there; you will meet with an accident on the way—either your carriage will be overset and you fatally injured, or robbers fall upon you in the woods and murder you. However it may be, only as a dead man will you arrive at Königsberg, and the Elector will have nothing further to do than to decree your magnificent obsequies!"
"Ah, my son!" cried the Stadtholder, smiling, "you go too far. Never will the Elector resort to such expedients. He is too pious and good a Christian for that!"
"Father, are not you, too, a good, pious Christian, and yet—Believe me, the Elector has forgotten nothing. He remembers the man found under his bed once, with a murderous weapon in his hand and much gold in his pocket. He remembers the sickness which so suddenly seized him two years ago at the banquet which you had prepared for him. Then you invited him, now he invites you, and if sickness seizes you, you will probably not have the good fortune to recover as he did."
"That is true; my God! he may be right," muttered the count, turning pale. "It may be that they suspect me; they may have told him I meant to poison him at that banquet. I have proofs of it which make it seem probable, and that woman—Hush, hush! nothing of that—that has no place here! But I believe myself that you are right, and will therefore ignore the Elector's invitation."
"God be praised, father, that you have taken this resolution!" cried the young count joyfully. "Now at last the crisis is upon us—open enmity and a rupture, regardless of consequences! Waver and hesitate no more. The Elector would ruin you; you must ruin him. Nay, look not so amazed and shocked, father! I have long foreseen this moment, and have prepared everything for meeting the emergency with dignity. As soon as the first news of the Elector George William's death reached here, I gathered about me my friends and yours, and held a long consultation with them, which satisfied me of their fidelity and devotion. Oh, most gracious sir, you have indeed no reason to bewail your lot, for you have many and reliable friends, who are ready for your sake to confront the most imminent dangers, to undertake what is most difficult and hazardous! All of our friends were convinced with me that the Electoral Prince is your implacable enemy, and that he only watches for an opportunity to accomplish your ruin. In spite of his few years, however, he is much too wise and cautious a man to attempt to act against you with open, swift determination. He knows the Emperor loves you, and that he would regard each act of enmity against you as directed against himself. Therefore he would quietly remove and undo you. Here, in the midst of your faithful friends, surrounded by soldiers and officers who have taken an oath of fidelity to you and the Emperor, in the midst of your adherents and retainers, the Elector would not dare to arrest and accuse you. He begins much more prudently, much more circumspectly! In the first place, you are to swear the governors and officers into the Elector's service. That is to say, in other words, they are no longer to recognize the Emperor as lord paramount or you as the Elector's representative, but their oath is to bind them to the Elector alone, and only on his will are they to be dependent. After having accomplished all this, you are to proceed to Prussia, where no one defends you, where your friends can not rally around you, where you will vanish, uncared for and unwept. No, my lord and father, you must not go to Prussia, or if you do, not until you have assembled around you your loyal subjects, when, at the head of your regiments, you go forth to meet the Elector as his powerful and determined foe, not as his servant."
"What do you say, my son?" asked the Stadtholder, shocked.
"I say, father, that your friends and I have been secretly active, that we have prepared to defend you in case the Elector threatens you. Throughout the whole Mark your friends are ready to make open opposition to the Elector, and firmly determined to protect you and their own rights and privileges sword in hand. Only carry out Frederick William's order, summon the commandants of the forts here to Berlin, and demand of them their oath of allegiance to the Elector. This they will refuse. All, with the exception of Burgsdorf of Küstrin and Trotha of Peitz, will declare that they have already given in their oath to the Emperor, and can not conscientiously take any other. The colonels of the regiments will say the same, especially Goldacker, the boldest, bravest of them all. They will keep faith with the Emperor, and therefore the Elector of Brandenburg is not their commander in chief. You, who administered the imperial oath, they will obey in the Emperor's name, they will follow whithersoever you lead."
"But whither can I lead them?" asked the Stadtholder.
"To battle against the little Elector of Brandenburg, who would revolt against his lord the Emperor; to battle against the heretical vassal of the Emperor, who threatens the German Empire and the Church, who would break loose from Emperor and empire, who threatens all creeds, making every effort to strengthen and aggrandize the reformed party. Oh, believe me, not merely good Catholics, but the Evangelical and Lutheran sects, will obey this call, and burn with enmity and wrath against the rash little Elector. We have spread our net, and its meshes are entangling him, even there in Prussia, where he thinks himself quite safe and secure. True friends and trusty messengers have been sent by Goldacker and myself to Prussia, to concert measures there with your adherents, and to rouse them to strong, energetic action. Sebastian von Waldow, superintendent of the palace and captain of Ruppin, assembles your friends together in perfect secrecy, and I daily expect from him exact accounts as to the success of his operations. In Königsberg itself we now have a powerful and efficient friend, who co-operates with us and is like-minded with ourselves. It is the ambassador whom the Emperor has sent to condole with the Elector. He is my best, most confidential friend, Count von Martinitz. He is acquainted with all my plans, he is the confidant of all my hopes and views, and will second them with all his might. This ambitious, heretical little Elector shall not rise, shall not arrive at power and distinction! That is not only the view the Emperor takes of it, but all German princes. The Elector of Brandenburg is a source of terror and embarrassment to them all. He threatens Saxony, he threatens Brunswick and Hesse; of all he claims land and property now in their possession. He has no friends, adherents, nor allies, this little Elector Frederick William. Holland will not side with him, because it will not relinquish Julich and Cleves, Sweden contends with him for Pomerania, and Poland about the investiture. He has only enemies and accusers! If, then, we attack him, he is lost! No hand will be lifted in his defense, no arm outstretched to save him. The Emperor will grant us his support and countenance, and all German princes will secretly rejoice that so dangerous a rival has been happily removed. O father! you see I have not abandoned hope of becoming some day Elector of Brandenburg! Only, I shall not be indebted for it to the Princess Charlotte Louise, but to you. I shall inherit the dignity as my father's son! And this shall be my revenge upon the faithless, treacherous Princess! I will ruin her and her whole house; I will put my father in her brother's place; I will one day enter as master the palace before whose closed portals they once insolently kept me two hours waiting. I swore that night to be revenged for that insult, and now the moment has come. Father, the fruit of revenge is ripe, and you must pluck it!"
"Yes, that I will," cried the Stadtholder, with animation. "Oh, my son, a great, immeasurable joy fills my soul at this hour; and, first of all, let me beg your pardon for having entertained a horrible suspicion with regard to you which has lately forced itself upon me. I mistrusted you, seeing your activity, your strange confidential transactions with the commandants and officers; I felt that you were on the eve of some great undertaking, and suspected that in you I had a rival, and that you wished to supplant me! Forgive me, my son, forgive me in consideration of the misery my suspicions caused me!"
"I have nothing to forgive, father," said Count Adolphus coldly. "It is so natural for those incapable of love to suppose that others are only moved by selfish ends! You, father, love nothing on earth but your own ambition and fame, and so fancied that it was the same with me, and that ambition could make the son a traitor to his own father!"
"My Adolphus!" cried the Stadtholder, "I have already told you, and repeat again, that I feel I have a heart. I felt it in the pain which I experienced when I doubted you; I feel it now in the rapture which thrills me in beholding you act so boldly and courageously in behalf of your father. Give me your hand, Adolphus, and—if you do not disdain such a thing—embrace me, and kiss your old father."
He held out his arms, and his son threw himself on his breast and imprinted a long, fervent kiss upon his lips. Long did Count Schwarzenberg clasp him to his heart, then took the young man's head between both his hands and looked at him with loving, tender glances. Finally, with a singular expression of embarrassment, he bent down and kissed his eyes.
"My son," he said softly and quickly, "I love you. Yours are the first eyes that I have ever kissed, and this kiss of your father's unpolluted lips should be to you a life-long blessing. And now to work, now for action, and bold adventurous deeds! Oh, of late how weak and worn out I have felt myself to be, and longed to withdraw into solitude and retirement, to rest from all labor! I believed it was old age creeping upon me, and by its abominable touch unnerving my arm and crippling my activity. But now I feel that it was only secret grief about you which thus enfeebled me and robbed my arm of vigor. Now I am quite well again and strong; now I will dare everything that you have so prudently and wisely planned. Yes, yes, once more I am Schwarzenberg, the Stadtholder in the Mark, and I shall not allow myself to be imposed upon; I shall do battle with this little Frederick William, who ventures to defy and threaten me. He opposes the Emperor, he would be an independent Sovereign, while he is only the Emperor's vassal. For this he shall be punished. It will not be our fault if this hurls him from his little throne, and how could we be blamed, should the Emperor bestow the margraviate of Brandenburg upon Prince Schwarzenberg, as he did the margraviate of Jägerndorf upon Prince Lobkowitz? To work, my son, to work! Oh, now again my eyes see clearly—now again my head conceives fixed and energetic thoughts. My son, we two combined will surely be equal to the execution of our exalted schemes. We two combined will ruin the Elector."
"And put you in his place," cried the young count.
"I must go before, that you may be my successor, and that our house stand firm and strong, and not be inferior to that of Lobkowitz or Fürstenberg. Already it is clearly defined in my mind what we shall have to do. In the first place, we must render the Elector odious to all parties, making it evident to each that he is a dangerous foe to all, who would enrich himself at his neighbors' expense, and would arrive at honor and power by weakening and degrading others. We have only to say to the Emperor that he is his opponent, and seeks to release his officers from the oath they have taken. Ferdinand is passionate and jealous of his prerogatives, and will crush his rebellious vassal. To the Lutherans and their favorers we will have it whispered by our friends that the Elector, as a rigid Calvinist, threatens their faith, and proposes to restrict the privileges of their country churches and to deprive of their offices all those who will not confess the Calvinistic creed. The Lutherans are a hard-headed and fanatical sect. He who menaces their faith is their arch-enemy, and they will be ready to fight against him with fire and sword. The soldiers, you know, are always ready to follow him who pays them best, and as regards their officers, thanks to you, my son, we are sure of them. Let us now adopt a fixed plan for hastening the crisis."
"I am only waiting for the return of the messenger whom I sent to Sebastian von Waldow. He will bring us reliable information as to the progress of organization among your adherents in Prussia, for Waldow has gone himself to Königsberg to hold a consultation with Count Martinitz, and to concert with our loyal friends a fixed plan of operations."
"We shall be obliged to go very slowly and cautiously to work," said Count Adam thoughtfully. "We must first secure ourselves on all sides, and be sure of the result before we venture to assume the offensive. The most important thing now is to assure ourselves of the Emperor's favor and approval. You, my son, must repair forthwith to Regensburg, where the Emperor is at present. You will inform him that I have obtained orders from the Elector to release the troops from their oath to the Emperor, and to swear them into the Elector's service alone. You will say to his Majesty that I have declined to yield to this order, and in the oath administered to the officers have made their allegiance to the Elector quite secondary to their obligations to himself. You will further notify the Emperor that the soldiers' pay has been in arrears for a month, because all our coffers are empty. Therefore ask, in my name, if it would not perhaps be advisable, if we come to extremities, to take the Brandenburg troops into the Emperor's pay, to give them rations in the Emperor's name, and renew their oath to his Imperial Majesty. To effect this, we have only to stimulate a little the discontent of the troops. They are already tolerably desperate because they have not received their wages. If the Elector does not speedily pay off the troops, the desperation will reach its height, and a revolt break forth spontaneously."
"Thence it follows, most gracious sir, that they will become as wax to be molded at your will."
"You are right, my son; we must manage to retain authority over friend and foe. The troops here are a wild, lawless horde, knowing little of discipline and order, and bearing much closer resemblance to a robber band than a princely army. We must aim at having disciplined troops at hand, such as are accustomed to obedience, and to this end must introduce imperial troops into the Mark. Nothing further is necessary for this than to begin hostilities against the Swedes with renewed activity, drawing them down upon Berlin. It will then seem quite natural, considering the weakness of the forces here, to invite the aid of the Emperor and his troops in defending Berlin and protecting ourselves against the Swedes, but in truth to help us in this great movement against the seditious Elector, who would revolt against Emperor and empire.
"I commission you, my son, to unravel this whole scheme to the Emperor, and to petition him for his countenance. For, without the imperial approbation and without an assurance of success, we dare not proceed further in this dangerous undertaking. We must have some security, too, that the Emperor's Majesty will proportionately reward us if we gain the Mark for him, and rid him of that mutinous, heretical Elector."
"I shall above all things seek to come to an understanding with Father Silvio, and impress upon the Emperor's pious, zealous father confessor the extent of glory and blessing to be acquired in behalf of the Church and holy faith by wresting the Mark out of the hands of a heretic, and bestowing it upon a believing, true Catholic, such as the Stadtholder in the Mark. The father has the Emperor's ear, and, I believe, is favorably disposed toward me. I shall use every means for enlisting his favor, and it would be well to have some funds at my disposal for this purpose. Father Silvio, noble and pious though he be, loves money, and is not inaccessible to jewels and valuable gifts. He has in his apartments at Vienna costly collections of precious stones and rare gold and silver plate, and it affords him high gratification to add a few valuable pieces to them."
"We will take care of that," said Count Adam, smiling. "Choose out of our casket of gems a few things worthy the pious father's acceptance, and for money you can draw upon the bankers Fugger of Nuremberg. I recently deposited with them considerable sums, in case of emergency. They are safer there than here in this starved-out Mark, among the desperadoes of Berlin and Cologne, who have no affection for me, and perhaps some day may take it into their heads to demand relief from me for their poverty and want, and plunder me to enrich themselves. Among such a gaunt, hungry populace we must be prepared for everything, and it is wise to be insured against mishaps. In these present evil days, however, nothing but money can raise an army, and only he who has money can aspire to being a general."
"The little Elector of Brandenburg has no money!" cried Count Adolphus, "for which God be praised! He, therefore, can be no general. His troops and his land belong to us, and, like the Margrave of Jägerndorf and the Elector of the Palatinate, the deposed Elector of Brandenburg may soon be a wanderer in foreign lands, exposing his humiliation to the whole German Empire. Nowhere will he find compassion, nowhere sympathy, for he is a dangerous foe to all, and all will profit by his fall. Dear, honored father, let me depart this very hour for Regensburg, in order to obtain the Emperor's approval of our weighty plans, and to return to you the earlier with plenipotentiary powers."
"You are right, Adolphus, haste makes speed, and we must strike while the iron is hot. Set off, my son, this very hour if you choose. It will not be necessary for me to write to the Emperor by you. You know perfectly how to interpret my thoughts, and your spoken word is better than my written one. God speed you, then, my son, I shall expect daily dispatches from you, acquainting me with the progress of your negotiations."
"I shall write, father, and make use of the ciphers agreed upon between us. You have preserved the key, have you not?"
"I have preserved it in my head," replied the count, pointing to his forehead. "Important secrets should never be committed to paper, and I say with Charles V, 'If one carries a great secret in his head, he should burn his very nightcap, that it may not betray him.' Truly may it be said of us two that we carry an important secret in our heads. Instead of a nightcap I have burned the cipher key, that it may not one day betray us!"
"But the great secret will one day surprise the world," cried Count Adolphus joyfully; "its trumpet peals will one day startle the whole of Germany. From the palace balcony here in Berlin shall its triumphant flourishes ring forth. The people in the streets will hear them in astonishment, and to me they will sound as the rejoicing songs of the heavenly hosts, and enraptured I shall look up to my father, standing there majestic in the pomp of his princely power. If I may then fall at your feet, all the ambitious dreams and aspirations of my heart will be fulfilled, and all within me will rejoice and shout, 'Health and blessings upon Prince Schwarzenberg, Margrave of Brandenburg!' Farewell now, dear father! I hurry away, the earlier to return to you!"