With a hasty movement he awoke from his reverie. "What is love," he cried, "if it makes us sad and cowardly! No, my sweet lady, I will be thy brave proud knight, and thy talisman shall bring me honour."
He drew the rose from his breast and pressed it to his lips. Then he walked on with a quick merry step, and with laughing lips he hummed to himself--
"And had she not promised my life to be,
No life would ever be won by me!"
CHAPTER VIII.
[FRANCIS JOSEPH II].
The greatest activity prevailed in Vienna--in the vicinity of the Hofburg.[[5]] Aides-de-camp and orderlies came and went backwards and forwards to head-quarters, which were literally fringed with staff officers.
Although it was still early, only about eight o'clock, groups of inquisitive people stood here and there in the large court yard, and looked at each coming or going officer with the greatest anxiety, as if he must be the bearer of most important news.
Public feeling was highly excited. Every one knew that important events lowered like a tempest in the air, and that any moment might bring the dazzling flash, followed by the mighty thunder-clap, which would disperse the sultry fog.
The good citizens of Vienna were in a warlike mood. The press had for a long time increased their bitterness against Prussia, and on every side were heard angry expressions against the Northern power, and confident hopes of victory for the Austrian arms.
Had not Field-Marshal Benedek, the man of the soldiers--the man of the people, just been appointed commander-in-chief of the great Northern army? He would show what the Austrian army could do when taken out of the hands of the "Junker,"[[6]] and placed in those of a real working soldier.