"I will overcome all impediments," said this young girl, "and nothing shall prevent me from playing my romance to the end. Fritz Wendel loves me more passionately than any duke or baron will ever love me; he has been made a prisoner because of his love for me, and that is the reason I see him no more. But I will save him; I will set him at liberty, and then I will flee with him, far, far away into the wide, wide world where no one shall mock at our love."
With such thoughts as these she returned from her anxious search in the garden. As she entered her room, she saw upon her table a superb bouquet, just such a tribute as her loved Fritz had offered daily at her shrine before the queen's unfortunate discovery. With a loud cry of joy, she rushed to the table, seized the flowers, and pressed them to her lips; she then sought in the heart of her bouquet for the little note which she had ever before found concealed there.
Truly this bouquet contained also a love-letter, a very tender, glowing love-letter, in which Fritz Wendel implored her to fly with him; to carry out their original plan, and flee with him to Oranienburg, where they would be married by the priest who had been won over by the Prince Augustus William. To-day, yes, this evening at nine o'clock must the flight take place.
Louise did not hesitate an instant; she was resolved to follow the call of her beloved. A court ball was to take place this evening, and Louise von Schwerin must appear in the suite of the queen; she must find some plausible excuse and remain at home. As the hour for the queen's morning promenade approached, Louise became so suddenly ill that she was forced to ask one of the maids of honor to make her excuses, to return to her room, and lay herself upon the bed.
The queen came herself to inquire after her health, and manifested so much sympathy, so much pity, that Louise was fully assured, and accepted without suspicion the queen's proposal that she should give up the ball, and remain quietly in her room. Louise had now no obstacle to fear; she could make her preparations for flight without interruption.
The evening came. She heard the carriages rolling away with the queen and her suite. An indescribable anxiety oppressed this young girl. The hour of decision was at hand. She felt a maidenly trembling at the thought of her rash imprudence, but the hour was striking—the hour of romantic flight, the hour of meeting with her fond lover.
It seemed to her as if she saw the imploring eyes of Fritz ever before her—as if she heard his loving, persuasive voice. Forgetting all consideration and all modesty, she wrapped herself in her mantle, and drawing the hood tightly over her head, she hastened with flying feet through the corridors and down the steps to the front door of the palace. With a trembling heart she stepped into the street.
Unspeakable terror took possession of her. "What if he was not there? What if this was a plot, a snare laid for her feet? But no, no!" She saw a tall and closely-muffled figure crossing the open square, and coming directly to her. She could not see his face, but it was surely him. Now he was near her. He whispered the signal word in a low, soft tone. With a quaking heart, she gave the answer.
The young man took her cold little hand, and hurried her forward to the corner of the square. There stood the carriage. The stranger lifted her in his arms, and carried her to the carriage, sprang in, and slammed the door. Forward! The carriage seemed forced onward by the wings of the wind. In a few moments the city lay far behind them. In wild haste they flew onward, ever onward. The young man, still closely muffled, sat near to Louise—her lover, soon to be her husband! Neither spoke a word. They were near to each other, with quickly-beating hearts, but silent, still silent.
Louise found this conduct of her lover mysterious and painful. She understood not why he who had been so tender, so passionate, should remain so cold and still by her side. She felt that she must fly far, far away from this unsympathizing lover, who had no longer a word for her, no further assurances of love. Yes, he despised her because she had followed him, no longer thought her worthy of his tenderness. As this thought took possession of her, she gave a fearful shriek, and springing up from her seat, she seized the door, and tried to open it and jump out. The strong hand of her silent lover held her back.