—“I do no more than my duty,” said Elizabeth, when Henry endeavoured to express his gratitude. “Your heart belongs to Ida, and never ought to be another’s, therefore never can be mine. As to Count Frederick’s inheritance, demand of this venerable man, whose claim to it is the most just; that of Elizabeth, or of the Damsels of Werdenberg.”—
As she spoke, the door opened, and a silver-haired stranger entered the apartment. It was the Sage of Zurich, the well-known Albert Reding, to whom Elizabeth had referred her disputed claims, previous to your unveiling the truth of our history, and removing her prejudices against us. Yes, Conrad, yes! even had she still continued to abhor us, so sure as I have life, Elizabeth would still have acted by us with justice!
The venerable Albert confirmed Elizabeth’s declaration; he even consented to accompany the enraptured Montfort to Ida’s valley, and make known to her this sudden change in her situation. They would fain have persuaded me to join their party: but I could not endure the thoughts of quitting my generous friend, at a moment, when she so greatly needs support after this difficult self-victory, and under the deep affliction which she feels at the approaching dissolution of our worthy Abbess.—Farewell, dear father, and believe, that the memory of your kindness shall live in my heart for ever!
Abbot Conrad to Sigisbert, Bishop of Coira.
Count Henry of Montfort and his bride are established in the Castle of Torrenburg. Their arrival threw the populace into an ecstasy of joy, and all inclination to uproar and revolt seems to be completely annihilated. Neither is Elizabeth any longer an object of aversion to her former subjects; you are already informed of the laudable manner, in which she past the month immediately succeeding the death of the Abbess of Zurich, and which she entirely dedicated to providing for the future benefit of those, over whom she was so soon to renounce all jurisdiction, and who (while under her command) had been so little sensible of the value of such a mistress.
—“The few minutes,” said she, when she addrest them for the last time; “the few minutes, during which I can still consider you as my subjects, shall be employed in convincing you, that you mistook my character; and that your welfare neither is now, nor ever was, indifferent to the heart of Elizabeth. I am preparing to resign my authority into the hands of the Damsels of Werdenberg; but that authority shall be the only one worth having, authority over a free people.”—
What she promised, she has performed most amply. Everything in these regions breathes freedom and happiness; she has established the privileges of this people on grounds so firm, that even were the antient Tyrants of Carlsheim and Sargans to resume their abused authority, they would be compelled to leave their subjects in possession of their unviolated freedom.
Henry and Ida would fain have exprest to her their gratitude in person; but she has declined receiving them for the present, under colour of too great affliction for the late loss of her friend, the Abbess. How say you, my Lord Bishop?—I fear, the heart of our Elizabeth is by no means healed, since she cannot prevail on herself to endure the sight of her rival’s happiness, even although that happiness is a work of her own creation.
Well! well!—time I hope, will do much; and (unless I flatter myself with believing too ardently what I wish) the attentions of Richard of Ulmenhorst will do more. This excellent young man is full of hope, that he may yet be able to establish his former claims on the heart of Elizabeth; Ida and Henry encourage him in his sanguine expectations; and no efforts of mine, that can advance his wishes, shall be wanting, you may be sure. However, nothing can be attempted, till St. Helena’s Festival arrives; on that day Elizabeth has promised to receive all her friends (Henry and Ida not excepted) and every one looks forward with the utmost impatience to this appointed day.