The first effect of his speech, and of the sudden conviction which his manner, more than his words, produced, was, as we said, to turn her deadly pale; and while a thousand new anxieties and painful considerations crossed her mind, she remained gazing on him so long, in silence, that she felt he must see that he was understood. The silence of her own embarrassment then becoming painful to her, as well as to him, the blood rushed up into her face, and yet she could not reply; so that both remained completely mute for several moments, after words had been spoken, which, to the by-standers, seemed perfectly simple.
At length she answered--"Oh! Sir President, if such power has been granted to you by the states, use it nobly, and Heaven will bless you."
"As far, lady, as my poor judgment can extend, I will use it nobly," replied Albert Maurice, over whose heart an icy chill had come, he knew not well why. "But," he added, "as I would fain use it for your happiness--believing it to be inseparable from that of the people--let me crave a few words with you in private, that I may ascertain more fully how that happiness may be best consulted."
He spoke slowly and calmly; but, from the quivering of his lip, it was evident that each word cost him a painful struggle to pronounce. On the other hand, Mary was herself embarrassed by his request, which was not a little contrary to the etiquette of her situation; and yet he who requested, she knew, might command; and she felt that, perhaps, it might be better for both that they should be alone.
After a moment's pause, then, she gave the necessary order for her attendants to withdraw into the ante-chamber, and then resumed her seat. Albert Maurice stood beside her, with his eyes still bent upon the ground; and for a moment, after the suite had quitted the chamber, he remained silent, striving to master all the emotions which were agitating his heart. It was a painful struggle, but at length he succeeded; and then raising his head with some degree of proud consciousness in his aspect, he looked calmly on the princess.
"Madam," he said, in a firmer voice than he had hitherto commanded, "your general welfare, and that of your people, is undoubtedly one great, and ought to be one paramount, object with me in all I strive for; but, at the same time, believe me--oh, believe me! that your individual happiness is no less a deep and overpowering consideration in my mind. Lady, I know, and feel painfully, that the great difference of rank and station between us, may prevent you from conceiving fully how dear your interests are to me. Nay, turn not pale, madam!" he added, with watchful and somewhat irritable pride, softened by deep and sincere affection--"Nay, turn not pale! No word shall you hear from my lips, that may offend your ear or wound your heart. Lady, the ambitious, misproud citizen may have as elevated, perhaps more devoted, ideas of true affection, than the noble, whose pride and arrogance are his right of birth; and may be able to crush his own heart, to sacrifice more than life--hope, blessed hope itself, to serve the being that he loves. And do you weep?" he continued, seeing the tears roll rapidly over the fair cheek of Mary of Burgundy. "And do you weep? Then I have said too much. Yet, hear me a little. I see you agitated, far more agitated than anything which has passed hitherto should have occasioned, unless the words we have spoken, whose import seems but small, may have touched some fine strung cord within your heart, and made sadder music than I dreamed of. However, in this land of Flanders I have now no small power, which may last God knows how long. But fear not that the power I do possess will ever be used to thwart one wish of your heart. Whatever it may cost me, it shall be employed to serve you with deep and true attachment. There is," he added, his emotion almost mastering his calmness; "there is one question I would ask, which is hard to put, and may be painful to answer. Yet, let me speak it quickly and briefly, lest I should fail."
He paused for a moment, and looked down; while his hand became clenched fearfully tight, as if in the struggle to suppress some deep feelings that would fain have burst forth, but, after a single moment, all was again vanquished, and he proceeded:--"Some months have now passed since your father's eyes were closed in death; your dominions are invaded, your people are distracted by different parties, and your nobles are leaguing together to snatch one from another the blessing of your hand. It is time, lady, that you should make a choice; and although I know no one, on all the earth, that is worthy of the happiness within your gift, yet, if there be any one to whom you can give your heart, I will--I will--Yes!" he added, more firmly, "I will do all that mortal man can do, to render you happy in your love!" He paused; and although an indefinable something in the conduct and demeanour of Mary of Burgundy through that night, had already shown him that one half of his dreams were dreams indeed; yet hope--persevering hope--lingered still, and whispered, "If she love none else, she may still be mine."
Mary of Burgundy's conduct was already determined; but nevertheless she trembled in every limb; and long, long was it, ere she could reply. At length she answered--"You have, indeed, put to me a question, which makes me feel most painfully how different is the station of princes from the happy and modest retirement of private life. Nay, do not think I blame you, sir; I blame but my hard fate. You are most kind; and, amidst a base and interested crowd, who would fain make me the slave of their wild ambitions, I shall ever remember you with gratitude, as the only one--who--with more power than all the rest to command my fate, was willing to cast self away, and--and to seek my happiness alone. Feeling thus; believing from my heart that in your generous nature I may perfectly rely, I answer your question as distinctly as it is put. There is, I believe, but one man to whom I can conscientiously give my hand. 'Tis now near two years ago, that, by my father's command, I plighted my faith in writing, and pledged thereto a ring, to one, whom I had been taught, during some months of happy intimacy, to look upon as my future lord--Maximilian, Archduke of Austria--"
"And you love him! and you love him!" cried Albert Maurice, starting forward, and, forgetful of all restraint, grasping her firmly by the wrist. The princess started up alarmed, and a cry of terror at his sudden vehemence, had nearly passed her lips. But she stifled it ere it was uttered; and the next moment Albert Maurice had recovered himself, and was kneeling at her feet.
"Pardon me! pardon me, princess of Burgundy!" he said. "Give me, oh, give me your forgiveness! The dream is gone, the vision is over, and Albert Maurice, the humblest of your subjects, is ready to pour out his blood, to atone for all that he has done amiss. Madam," he added, rising, "I have been living in a dream; and, I fear me, when I come to look upon it steadily, I shall find it a sad one. But no more of that: at present I am, if that be not a dream also, President of the states general of Flanders, and armed with greater power than any other man in the land. What can I do to sweep all obstacles from before your wishes? Tell me quickly how I can serve you. Let me at least work out your happiness, before the memory of the past turn my brain."