As this thought struck her, everything appeared to confirm it,—the girl's manner, devoid of every trait of imperiousness, and actually humble to servility. “Oh, if I could but be sure of this,—if I could know that I could bury both my shame and my sorrow together!” In this vacillating state of suspense—one day all hope and confidence, the next, terror and dread—she lived on, till the period drew nigh for their departure from Vienna.
Madame de Heidendorf had delayed beyond her intention, in the hope of receiving some French news; and Kate eagerly watched the post for some tidings from home,—for home it still was, in every feeling of her heart
“No letters again, Nina?” said she, despondingly, as the maid entered the room.
“None, Madame.”
“Have your friends forgotten you, Nina, as well as mine appear to have done?”
“Nina has but few friends, Madame; and still fewer would think of writing to her!”
“Poor Nina!” said Kate, affectionately; and the blood rushed to the girl's face at the words, and her eyes flashed with an expression of sudden passion.
“No pity, Madame,——no pity!” cried she, with a voice full of emotion, “or I may forget myself,—forget myself and you also!” And with these words she hurried from the room, without waiting for more. Kate sat shocked and abashed by the girl's violence, and yet neither daring to reprove her nor even remonstrate with her. What abject slavery was this to feel! How mean did she seem to her own heart! What rottenness was within that gilded splendor by which she was surrounded! Where was the ambitious envy with which she once looked up to the rich and powerful now? Where that intense desire to be among the great and the titled? and with whom would she not have changed conditions, even to Nina herself?
It is not weak of heart and low of courage that one should face the great journey of life. Its trials and crosses, even to the most fortunate, demand all that we can summon of hope and of energy. And yet so was it that she was about to begin the road—the long and dreary road—before her! As she sat thus musing, a great noise was heard from the street without. She arose and opened the window. The whole Platz was crammed with people, eagerly talking and gesticulating. A surging, waving motion, too, seemed to sway them, and at length she could detect that they were slowly proceeding onward towards the gate of the city. The deep roll of a drum then turned her attention, and, in the far distance, she saw the glancing bayonets of an infantry column as they advanced.
Military spectacles are of too frequent recurrence in Vienna to create much surprise or excitement; and yet, evidently, from the looks and gestures of the people, they were both present here. The band of a regiment struck up the national hymn of Austria; and as the proud notes swelled into the air, a dark body of Tyrolese Jâgers poured into the Platz. Still there was no enthusiasm of the people. They listened to the loyal sounds in cold apathy. To the Tyrolese succeeded a Grenadier battalion, after which came a long dense column of infantry of the line, their knapsacks on their backs, and their bread rations strapped above them. Behind these was the artillery, the long-tailed black horses giving a solemn look to the procession, as its clanking sounds fell mournfully on the ear. From the wide Platz they now moved on, and passing out of the Körtner gate, defiled into the “Glacis.” But a moment before and that immense space was empty; and now, from every avenue of the city, troops came pouring in like rivers to the sea. The black-plumed hunters from Tyrol, the gigantic Croat Grenadiers, the swarthy Bohemian Cuirassiers, and the white-cloaked dragoons of Austria,—all were seen advancing and forming as if in battle array. While Kate's eye ranged eagerly over the field in search of the blue uniform of the Hungarians, Madame de Heidendorf entered the room with an open letter in her hand.