The Lost Manuscript: A Novel

by Gustav Freytag

"When do they come? I am so curious," she said, in a low tone.

"They are perhaps already there," answered he, looking down.

"I am going to the theatre to-day for the first time again," continued the Princess. "Come into my box if you can."

The Prince nodded. Information came to the Marshal, which he conveyed to the Prince's father. "Your teacher, Professor Werner, is come," said he, aloud, to his son. "You will undoubtedly wish to pay your compliments to him." He then bowed to the Court, and the young Princess followed him out of the room.

The Chamberlain hastened to the pavilion. The Marshal followed more quietly. A royal equipage had brought the travelers from the nearest station. They passed rapidly by the trees in the park, the pleasure-grounds, and the lighted windows of the royal castle. The pavilion was no longer a shapeless building, as it appeared in the day, under the glaring sun, to the indifferent eyes of the courtiers. The moon lighted up the front, and shone with a glimmering halo on the walls; it threw a silver glitter on the cheeks of the angels, and on the solid broad leaves of their garlands, and brought out strongly on the bright surface of the wall the shadows of the projecting cornices. Wax-lights shone through the open door. Lackeys, in rich liveries, held heavy candelabra. The steward of the house, a friendly looking personage, in dress coat and knee-breeches, stood in the hall and greeted the comers with polite words. Following the lackeys, Ilse ascended the carpeted steps, on her husband's arm, and when the servant threw back the portière, and the row of rooms appeared shining with wax-lights, she could hardly suppress an exclamation of astonishment. The steward led them through the rooms, explained the disposal of them, and Ilse perceived, with rapid glance, how stately and comfortable they all were. She looked with admiration at the abundance of flowers which were placed in the vases and bowls. She wondered whether her little Prince had shown this tender attention, but was undeceived when the official announced that the Chamberlain had sent them. A pretty maid was introduced, who was to wait upon her exclusively. Gabriel stood in the ante-room considering where he and his traps would be taken, in order that the Professor's boots might, in the morning, be no dishonor to the splendor of the house. At last one of the lackeys showed him his room, and, like a good comrade, pointed out to him the lamps of a tavern, which for his leisure hours would be particularly agreeable.

Ilse went through the rooms as if stupefied by their splendor, and endeavored to open the window to let in some fresh air, for the strong fragrance of the hyacinths threatened her with headache. Then came the Chamberlain, behind him the Marshal, who was also an urbane gentleman of very refined appearance; and both expressed their pleasure at seeing the Professor and his wife. They offered their services on all occasions, and pointed out from the windows the position of the pavilion. Suddenly the lackey threw open the folding-doors, announcing "His Highness, the Hereditary Prince."

The young gentleman walked slowly into the room. He bowed silently to Ilse, and gave his hand to the Professor. "My father has commissioned me to express to you his pleasure that you have fulfilled his wishes;" and, turning to Ilse, he continued: "I trust that you will find the dwelling comfortable enough not to regret having left your residence at home."

Ilse looked with great pleasure at her Prince. He had, it appeared to her, grown a little. His demeanor was still rather depressed; but he had color in his cheeks, and it was clear that things were not amiss with him. The little moustache was stronger and became him well.

She replied, "I scarcely venture to turn round. It is like a fairy castle. One expects every moment that a spirit will spring from the wall and inquire whether one wishes to go through the air, or that four swans will stop at the window with a golden carriage. No chair is necessary to ascend to it, for the windows come down to the ground. The Park Street sends its greeting, and I give your Highness heartfelt thanks for the present which the Chamberlain sent me for the last Christmas-tree."

The Professor approached the Prince, mentioned to him the names of some of his colleagues, who had sent to him their kindest remembrances, and then begged him to express to his royal father his thanks for this hospitable reception.