"I will call the emperor myself," said he; "whither would your majesty go?"
"Do not detain me," cried the empress, "I must go to the emperor."
"But what then?" asked Van Swieten, alarmed.
The empress, who had already crossed her anteroom, looked back with a countenance beaming with noble energy.
"I will do my duty," replied she. "I will do what Christian feeling prompts. I will go to Josepha."
"No, your majesty, no," cried Van Swieten, again laying hands upon his sovereign. "You owe it to your people and your children not to expose yourself to danger."
The empress smiled sadly. "Doctor, where did Isabella and Johanna take the infection? God called them to Himself, and God has shielded me, If it pleases Him that I also shall suffer this fearful scourge, it will not be from contagion. It will be from His divine hand."
"No, no, your majesty, it will be my fault," cried Van Swieten. "On my head will be the sin."
"I free you from all responsibility," replied she, "and say no more; for it is my duty to visit this deserted woman's death-bed. I have been less kind to her than I should have been, and less indulgent than on MY death-bed I will wish to have been. I have not been a tender mother to her, living—let me comfort her, at least, now that she is dying."
"But she has not asked for your majesty," persisted Van Swieten.
"Wherefore—"