CHAPTER III.
It so happened that, in another room of the same house, and at almost exactly the same hour, the pleasures of the masquerade in Paradise formed the subject of conversation.
For some weeks past Rosenbusch had intended to make inquiries concerning the health of his Russian patroness, who, as he knew, was confined to her room by a slight injury to her foot. He felt it incumbent on him to show himself a young man who respected the laws of politeness and society, although he was a disciple of the liberal arts.
He found the countess in her bedroom, which smelled of Russian leather and cigarettes. A samovar and an empty champagne bottle stood on the table by the bed, and all kinds of note-books, portfolios, French books, and photographs lay about upon the chairs. Nelida reclined upon the bed, robed in a long silk dressing-gown, with a black point-lace veil thrown nun-fashion over her dark hair. She looked paler than in the summer, and, as she extended her white hand to the painter with a gracious smile, he was forced to admit to himself that she perfectly understood the art of making as much capital as possible out of her suffering condition, and of appearing still more interesting in her enforced quiet than in her usual activity.
She was not alone. The retired singer, who appeared to be regularly installed as her companion, and who was at the moment engaged in the back part of the room in poking the fire in the grate, had been sitting in the chair which was now offered to Rosenbusch.
Opposite the bed, in a low arm-chair, sat a younger lady, whom Rosenbusch had not seen before, and who immediately attracted his artistic eye. Was she a married woman or a girl? The countess did not mention her name. But, although the soft fullness of her figure seemed rather to indicate the mature woman, the features of the charming face and the glance of the dark-blue eyes had a soft and dreamy expression that was altogether maidenly. Then, too, she looked very girlish when, chancing to look up suddenly from the embroidery on which she was engaged, she gazed with innocent wonder straight into the face of the speaker, then opened her lips in a laugh which displayed two rows of the most beautiful little teeth, and the next instant bent down her head again as if in confusion, until her thick brown hair fell low over her forehead.
Rosenbusch, who was smitten at once, would very gladly have drawn a little nearer to this enchanting stranger. But the countess took complete possession of him, making him give her a circumstantial account of his doings and actions, and expressing an unusual interest in the "Battle of Lützen," which was now finished. As she was a perfect mistress of the art of making every one believe that his particular plans and aims were of more importance to her than anything else, Rosenbusch did not remark, in the joy of his heart, that, in spite of her interest in him, she yawned several times, but went on talking about anything that came into his head--about his labors, his ideas of art, his friends, and finally about the masked ball in Paradise. He related, among other things, that Jansen would appear in a genuine Venetian costume, and his betrothed in a corresponding one, which was to be exactly copied from a portrait by Paris Bordone, in red velvet with a little gold embroidery, and which would go marvelously well with her pale complexion and the dull-gold color of her hair.
While he was giving this description the beautiful stranger let her embroidery fall in her lap, and fixed her eyes upon the speaker with the curious expression of a child listening to a fairy tale.
"Such a costume would be exceedingly becoming to you also, madame," stammered the painter, who now for the first time addressed a direct remark to the unknown person.
She laughed absently, sighed, but said nothing.
Nelida exchanged a quick glance with her, and then asked, as if to give the conversation another turn, what costume Rosenbusch had chosen for himself. The truth was, he candidly replied, his means did not permit him to make any very great display; he should put himself into a Capuchin's cowl, which would go exceedingly well with his beard, and, since he was always expected on such occasions to deliver some poetical effusion, he hoped this time to get out of the affair with a regular Capuchin sermon.
"No doubt you will compose a very talented and witty one," said the countess. "But wouldn't this costume be exceedingly warm and uncomfortable if worn long; and will it be easy for you to find a dress for your partner that will match yours?"
"My dear countess," sighed Rosenbusch, "I am unfortunately in a position to bear the vow of celibacy much more easily than most of the brothers of my order. The only partner in whom I could take any interest--But I won't bore the ladies with my private affairs."
"No, no, don't say that, my dear Herr Rosenbusch. Confess everything boldly. You will find the most sympathetic appreciation here."
"Well, then, I will tell you. I had engaged a young girl for this ball, who, I am convinced, would unquestionably have borne off the prize from all but the beautiful Julie. But her parents--bigoted, narrow-minded shopkeepers--cannot be persuaded to allow the poor thing this innocent pleasure. So you will readily understand, ladies, that I would rather throw myself into the arms of celibacy than take up with the first one who comes along."
He grew red, and wiped his forehead with his gloved right hand.
Nelida again exchanged a look with the stranger. The singer, too, now that she felt relieved from the fear of being recognized by Rosenbusch, had stepped up to the foot of the bed, and seemed to follow the conversation with especial interest.
"Perhaps," said the countess, smiling--"perhaps I may be able to provide you with a substitute, who will in some degree make good your loss. A moment before you came in we were saying how cruel it was of Fate to keep me here in my room at the very time of the carnival! It is true my dancing days are past. But my dear friend here, Madame--Madame von St.-Aubain, a good German, by-the-way, in spite of her name-- Only think, my principal object in inviting her to see me at this time was in order that I might show her our Munich carnival, and now she is forced to sit here at the side of my bed and practise the Christian virtues of patience and charity! To be sure, if she could only find a knight to whom I dared trust her with a good conscience--"
"O countess!" interrupted Rosenbusch, springing up enthusiastically, "are you really in earnest? Madame would not scorn to--"
"You are very good, sir," lisped the stranger, in a soft, pleasing voice, which completed the conquest of our friend's heart. "It is true that it is my greatest wish to catch a stolen glimpse of the life that goes on in this artists' world, about whose festivals I have heard so much. But I am too timid to venture into a perfectly strange circle, even under the most chivalrous protection, when, as you say, masks for the face are prohibited."
"I understand you perfectly, madame!" cried Rosenbusch, enthusiastically. "It is the custom to attribute such wild things to us artists that a lady belonging to high society might well be terrified by them. But you shall see yourself that we are better than our reputation. Allow me to make a proposal. I will provide you with a monk's dress similar to my own. In order to remain unrecognized you have only to pull the cowl over your head; and if, in addition to this, you should fasten on some white eyebrows and a beard of the same color, you could observe all that was going on as securely as if you were behind a curtain or in a dark theatre-box, without anyone having a suspicion how much grace and beauty--excuse these bold compliments--is hidden behind this plain disguise. The only possible suspicion that could arise would be that I led on my arm that young girl--that obedient daughter of cruel parents, who had secretly managed to escape from her cage."
The stranger stood up, approached the bed, and, bending over the countess, exchanged a few low words with her. In motion she appeared even more attractive than in repose. Rosenbusch, who was completely carried away, could not take his eye from this beautiful yet delicate figure, and awaited with beating heart the result of the secret consultation.
At last she turned to him again, fixed her soft eyes on his face, as if she wanted to convince herself once more that she might put confidence in him, and then said:
"I will really venture to do it, sir, but only under two conditions: that you will not betray to any of your friends, even by a syllable, that the mask at your side is a stranger, and not the person for whom they will all take her; and that, further, you will take me out of the company and see me to my carriage as soon as I ask you to. You need not fear," she continued, slyly smiling, "that I will trouble you long. But I really can't resist the desire to see so many celebrated artists together, to admire their costumes and the beautiful women they will bring with them. The best way will be for you to go without me, and when the festivities are well under way--say about eleven o'clock--I will be in the carriage at the garden-gate, where you will be so good as to meet me. Do you agree to this, and will you give me your word that you will strictly adhere to these conditions?"
Rosenbusch, before whose fancy very different visions of splendor were floating, and who was secretly convinced that he would succeed in persuading the beautiful stranger to lay aside her disguise and shine with him in Paradise the moment the festive spirit of the ball seized upon her, very wisely refrained from making any objections to this plan, and solemnly promised everything that was asked of him. He agreed to bring the costume and all the other requisites to the hotel on the day before the festival, for the countess insisted upon dressing her friend in the monk's cowl with her own hands; and then he took leave in no slight state of excitement over his unexpected good fortune.
On the stairs he suddenly recollected Stephanopulos, and his relation to the Russian lady. For a moment it struck him as rather strange that the countess, since she seemed so anxious to introduce her friend to Paradise, had not made use of this cavalier, inasmuch as she personally could not avail herself of his escort.
"Perhaps," thought he, complacently stroking his beard, "she is jealous in regard to this young sinner and Don Juan, and doesn't care about trusting this charming woman to his charge. It is possible also that the lady herself may have expressed an aversion for this Greek adventurer. At all events, I seem to be more agreeable to her. A confoundedly charming little woman! I wonder where her husband keeps himself? or possibly she is a widow. If that were the case--"
He did not finish the sentence, even in his thoughts, for some one came down the steps behind him, and he immediately recognized the old baron whom he had seen out at Rossel's villa. But what had happened to the merry old gentleman that made him answer the artist's greeting so mechanically, and pass him, as he stood waiting on the stairs, with a wild look, as if he had been an utter stranger?
Rosenbusch followed him, shaking his head. "What devilish short memories these aristocrats have!" he growled. "If this Madame von St.-Aubain is made of the same stuff, I confess I should have a jollier time with Nanny. However, it can't be helped; that is one of the disadvantages of moving in the highest circles. In Rome one must do as the Romans do."
He threw his cloak in picturesque folds about his historical velvet jacket, and stepped forth into the snow with the joyful mien of a conqueror. His only sorrow was that he couldn't go at once to Angelica and tell her what a brilliant conquest he had made.