The Countess of Rudolstadt / A Sequel to "Consuelo"

by George Sand

"Because I wanted to know, signora."

"That is frank, certainly. Now go."

As soon as Porporina was alone, she opened the roll, which she found contained a parchment, covered with strange and unintelligible characters. She had heard much of the Count of Saint Germain, but did not know him. She examined the manuscript carefully, and as she could not understand it, and could not perceive why a person with whom she had never had any acquaintance, should send her an enigma to unravel, she fancied that he was mad. As she examined this document more closely, a separate note fell out, and she read: "The Princess Amelia of Prussia takes much interest in divination and in horoscopes. Give her this parchment, and you will be certain to secure her protection and friendship." To these lines there was no signature, the hand was unknown, and the roll bore no address. She was amazed that the Count of Saint Germain, to reach the Princess Amelia, had come to her, who had never met her; and thinking that her servant had made some mistake, began to fold it up, for the purpose of returning it. When she took up the sheet of coarse paper, which had been around it, she observed there was music printed on the other side. An old recollection recurred to her; to look at one corner of the sheet for a mark, which had been agreed on—to recognise the deep pencil lines—to see that the music was a part of a piece which she had given away, as a token of remembrance, eighteen months before—was but the work of an instant. The emotion which she experienced at the remembrance of an absent and suffering friend, made her forget her own sorrows. She was only anxious to know what was to be done with the manuscript, and why she had been charged with transmitting it to the princess. Was the object to secure for her that personage's favor and protection? For that Porporina had neither the want nor the desire. Was it for the purpose of establishing a communication between the princess and the prisoner, which might be useful to the latter? She hesitated. In her doubt she recollected the proverb, "beware;" she then remembered that there were both good and bad proverbs, some of which came to the aid of prudent selfishness and others to bold devotion. She got up at once, saying to herself:

"When in doubt, act, provided that you do not compromise yourself, and have reason to hope that you can be useful to your friend and fellow-being."

Scarcely had she finished her toilette, which required some time, for she was much enfeebled by the attack of the previous evening, (and while tying up her beautiful dark hair,) she thought how she could best convey the parchment to the princess, when a servant in an embroidered livery came to ask if she was alone, and if she was willing to receive an unknown lady, who wished to visit her. The young singer had often repined at the manner in which at that time artistes were subjected to the great: she felt at first disposed to refuse the visit, and to say that the singers of the theatre were with her. She remembered, though, that this answer might offend the prudery of some ladies, but would have the effect of making others more anxious to trespass on her. She, therefore, consented to receive the visit, and the fair Von Kleist was soon introduced.

This lady was thoroughly used to society, and had determined to please the singer, and make her forget all differences of rank. She was ill at ease, however, because she had heard that Porporina was very haughty, and Von Kleist had also excellent reasons to wish, for her own sake, to penetrate her most hidden thoughts. Though young and inoffensive, there was, at this moment, in the court-lady's mind and countenance, something false and forced, which did not escape Porporina's attention. Curiosity approximates so closely to perfidy, that it destroys the beauty of the most perfect features.

Porporina knew the face of her visitor perfectly well; and her first movement when she saw a person who appeared every evening in the box of the Princess Amelia, was to ask, under the pretext of necromancy, of which she knew she was fond, an interview with the princess. Not daring, however, to confide in a person who had the reputation of being both imprudent and disposed to intrigues, she determined to let her lead the conversation, and began to bring to bear on her the quiet penetration of the defensive, which is so superior to the attacks of curiosity.

At last, the ice was broken; and the lady having presented the princess's request for music; the singer, concealing her satisfaction at this happy chance, went to get many unedited arrangements. Then, with an appearance as if suddenly inspired, she said, "I will be delighted, madame, to place all my treasures at her highness's disposal; and would feel honored were she to consent to receive me."

"And do you, indeed," said Madame Von Kleist, "wish to speak to her royal highness?"

"Yes, madame," said Porporina. "I would throw myself at her feet, and ask a favor which I am sure she would not refuse me. She is, they say, a great musician, and must protect artists. I have also heard that she is good as she is beautiful. I hope, then, if she deign to hear me, that she will aid me in obtaining from his majesty the recall of my master, who having been invited to Berlin, with the king's consent, was, when he reached the frontier, driven away, in consequence of a defect in his passport. Since then, in spite of the king's promises and assurances, I have been unable to bring this affair to an end. I dare no longer annoy the king with a request in which he takes but little interest, I am sure, for he always forgets it. But, if the princess would deign to say a word to the officers to whom such matters belong, I will have the happiness of being again with my adoptive father, the only friend I have in the world."