“Hélène Massalska,
“Rowager-Princesse de Ligne.”
Then she wrote to the Count Vincent: “I do not advise you to await the arrival of the Prince-Bishop before writing to him, for he is one of those persons who never know when they will start or when they will arrive. You could send a messenger to Werky, who would wait for an answer, which might perhaps hurry on matters; but if the Prince-Bishop could see you, he would do every thing you wish, and we should be happy.”
The Count did not make up his mind to go, and Hélène, fearing his capricious and irresolute character, went to Werky herself. She entreated her uncle to apply to the Pope, so as to hasten the formalities necessary for the divorce, for she was in daily fear that the project on which she had set her heart should fall through.
Everything took place in accordance with the Princess’s wishes, and three months after the death of Prince Charles de Ligne the marriage of Hélène and Count Potocki was celebrated at midnight in the Chapel of the Convent of the Bernadines near Werky. The apparent motive of this secrecy was the Princess’s mourning, as yet too recent to allow of an official wedding; but it must be added that the permission for a divorce had not yet arrived from Rome, and only came three months later. It required all the influence of the Prince-Bishop to obtain a priest that should celebrate the marriage under such conditions.
On entering the Chapel, and at the moment of realising the happiness she so ardently desired, Hélène experienced the deepest emotion, mingled with a vague sense of terror. She knelt beside the Count, and remained motionless, her eyes fixed on the ground, and absorbed in her thoughts. When the Count gave her his hand to lead her to the altar she rose to her feet, but suddenly stopped short, with a fixed and terrified gaze, a prey to the most terrible hallucination. By the flickering light of the wax tapers she fancied she saw three coffins laid across her path, which she would have to step over on her way to the altar. The Count, appalled at Hélène’s terrified look, inquired in a low voice the cause of her alarm; the sound of his voice recalled her to herself, and, chasing away the horrible vision by a strong effort of will, she resolutely ascended the three steps of black marble, which a moment before had presented such a sinister appearance. The bridal pair returned to Werky, and the terrible moment was soon forgotten.
After a prolonged stay in Lithuania, during which the Lord Chamberlain visited his wife’s extensive domains, they both returned to Ukrania, and Hélène triumphantly entered the Count’s abode, whither she had gone in such fear and trembling at the time of his illness. The past and all its sorrows were forgotten, and, radiant with happiness, she wrote to her husband, who was absent for a few days: “To-morrow I shall see you again, and see you still the same, for I do not want you ever to change in the smallest degree: virtues, attractions, wit, faults, caprices, all are precious to me; if you were more perfect, you would no longer be the Vincent for whose sake I should have been guilty of the greatest folly, if kind heaven had not permitted that all should be for the best in the end.”
FOOTNOTES:
[112] These three ladies were sisters.
[113] These were the words Madame de Sévigné used when writing to Bussy Rabutin on the death of Turenne.
[114] Twenty-four thousand pounds.