"Do not tell a useless falsehood, Consuelo. You supped with her last night, and I can describe all the details to you." The count then told her of every circumstance, even what the princess and Madame Von Kleist said, the dresses they wore, the very bill of fare, their meeting the balayeuse, etc. Neither did he pause there, but also told our heroine of the king's visit, what had been said, of his shaking the cane over her head, the threats and repentance of Consuelo, even their gestures and the expression of their faces, as clearly as if he had been present. He concluded, "My honest and generous child, you did very wrong to suffer yourself to be won by this return to friendship and kindness on the part of the king. You will repent of it. The royal tiger will make you feel his nails, unless you accept a more honest and respectable protection—one true, paternal, and all-powerful, which will not be restrained by the narrow limits of the Marquisate of Brandebourg, but will hover over the whole surface of the globe, and would accompany you to the deserts of the new world."
"I know of no being but God, who can extend such a protection, and will care for so insignificant a being as I am. If I be in danger here, in Him do I put my trust. I would have no confidence in any other care the means and motives of which I would be ignorant."
"Distrust ill becomes great souls," said the count. "Because Madame de Rudolstadt is one of those thus gifted, she has a right to the protection of God's true servants. For that reason is protection offered to you. The means are immense, and differ both in power and right from those possessed by kings and princes, as much as God in his sublimity differs from the most glorious despots. If you love and confide in divine justice, you are bound to recognise its action in good and intelligent men, who, here below, are the ministers of his will, and protectors of his supreme law. To redress crime, to protect the weak, to repress tyranny, to encourage and reward virtue, to preserve the sacred deposit of honor, has from all time been the mission of an illustrious phalanx of venerable men, who, from the beginning of time, have been perpetuated to our days. Look at the gross and inhuman laws which rule nations, look at human prejudice and error, see everywhere the monstrous traces of barbarism. How can you conceive that in a land so badly ruled by perfidious governments, all learning and true principles can be repressed? Such is the case, and we are able to find spotless lilies, pure flowers, hearts like your own, like Albert's, expanding and blooming amid the filth of earth. Think you they can preserve their perfume, avoid the unclean bite of reptiles, and resist the storm, if they be not sustained and preserved by friendly hands? Think you that Albert, that sublime man, stranger to all vulgar baseness, so superior to humanity that the uninitiated thought him mad, exhausted all his greatness and faith on himself? Think you he was an isolated fact in the universe, and contributed nothing to the hearth of sympathy and hope? You yourself—think you that you would have been what you are, had not the divine efflatus been received from Albert? How, separated from him, cast in a sphere unworthy of you, exposed to every peril, every danger, everything calculated to lead you astray, an actress, the confidante of an imprudent and enamored princess, the reputed mistress of a debauched, icy, and selfish monarch, do you expect to maintain the spotless purity of your primitive candor, if the mysterious wings of the archangels be not extended over you? Take care, Consuelo; not in yourself alone will you find the strength you need. The prudence of which you boast will be easily foiled by the ruses of the spirits of darkness, which wander around your virginial pillow. Learn, then, to respect the holy army, the invisible soldiery, armed with faith, which already forms a rampart around you. You are asked for neither engagements nor services; you are ordered only to be docile and confident when you are aware of the unexpected effects of their benevolent adoption. I have told you enough. You will reflect maturely on my words, and when the time shall come, you will see wonders accomplished around you. Then remember that all is possible to those who believe and work together, to those who are equal and free; yes, nothing is impossible to them who recognise merit—and if yours were so elevated as to deserve this great reward, know that they could resuscitate Albert, and restore him to you."
Having thus spoken, in a tone which seemed animated by conviction and enthusiasm, the red domino left Consuelo without waiting for a reply. He bowed to her before he left the box, where she remained for some momeuts, motionless and a prey to strange reveries.
[CHAPTER XIII]
Being now anxious to retire, Consuelo left the box, and in one of the corridors met two masks. One of them said, in a low tone—
"Do not trust the Count de St. Germain."
She fancied that she recognised the voice of Uberto Porporino, her brother artist, and took him by the sleeve of his domino. She said—
"Who is this count? I do not know him."