Fear makes the human heart intensely selfish, and the baroness, delighted at not being required to confront the terrors of the gallery, and utterly careless about the apprehensions Consuelo might entertain in having to pass through it alone, regained all her intelligence, and was able to say how she should go, and what signal she should make to find out the faithful servant who waited at the palace gate, in a sheltered and lonely spot where she had placed him.
With this information, and now sure that she would not lose herself in the palace, Consuelo bade adieu to the princess, who did not seem the least disposed to accompany her down the gallery. She, therefore, set out alone, feeling her way, and reached the terrible stairway without difficulty. A hanging lantern which was below, aided her somewhat, and she reached the floor without any adventure, or even terror. On this occasion she had called her will to her aid, and felt that she was fulfilling an obligation to the unfortunate Amelia. This sufficed to give her strength.
She left the palace by the little mysterious door, the key of which the baroness had given her, and which opened into the back court. When she was out, she proceeded along the wall to find the chasseur. As soon as she had uttered the signal which had been agreed on, a shadow left the wall, and a man wrapped in a large cloak bowed before her, offering her his arm with the most silent respect.
[CHAPTER XI]
Consuelo remembered that Madame Von Kleist, the better to hide her visits to the Princess Amelia, often came on foot to the palace, with a thick black hood and a cloak of the same color, and leaning on the arm of a servant. In this manner she was not observed, and might pass for one of those persons in distress who will not beg, but in this manner receive aid from the liberality of princes. In spite of all precaution, however, the secret was become transparent, and if the king was not angry, it was because he looked on it as one of those affairs which it was better to tolerate than to talk of. He was well aware the ladies talked more of Trenck than of magic; and although he had an almost equal objection to these two subjects of conversation, he kindly consented to close his eyes, and was rather glad that his sister was kind enough to adopt a mystery which relieved him of any responsibility. He was willing to pretend that he was deceived, and seemed unwilling to approve of the love and folly of his sister. His severity, then, fell on the unfortunate Trenck, and he accused him of fanciful crimes, lest the public should suspect the true cause of his disgrace.
Porporina, thinking that the servant of the Baroness Von Kleist would aid her in maintaining her incognito, and would give her his arm as he would his mistress, did not hesitate to accept his services, and leaned on him so as to be able to walk securely on the ice-covered pavement. She had scarcely walked three steps, however, when the man said, in a careless tone—
"Well, countess, how did you leave your fantastic Amelia?"
In spite of the cold and wind, Consuelo felt the blood rush to her face. Apparently, the servant took her for his mistress, and thus revealed a revolting intimacy. Porporina, disguised, withdrew her arm from that of the man, and said—
"You are mistaken."