The lady replied to these flattering words by an inclination of the head, and a pause ensued. Each one seemed waiting for the other to speak. As the empress perceived, after a while, that the lips of the pale countess did not move, she resolved to break the irksome silence herself. In her own frank way, scorning all circumlocution, she went at once to the subject nearest their hearts.
"I know why you are here to-day," said she, with a painful blush. "You have heard of the fate which threatens Poland, and you have come to ask if thus I fulfil the promises I made to you! Speak—is it not so? Have I not rightly read the meaning of that lovely but joyless face?"
"It is so," sighed the countess, and her voice trembled with unshed tears. "Yes, from the solitude wherein I had buried my grief since last I saw your majesty, I have heard the fatal tidings of my country's woe, and yet I live! Oh, why should the body survive, when the soul is dead?"
Her words died away upon her lips, and she seemed to grow paler and more pale as though every drop of blood in her veins had stiffened and turned to ice. But she heaved a sigh and rallied, for hope now touched her heart, and the statue awoke to life.
"Ah, great empress," said she, with fervor, "I come to you, in whose powerful hand lies the issue of my country's fate, whose mighty word can bid us live, or doom us to death."
"Oh, were it so, you would not sue in vain!" cried the empress, sorrowfully. "Had the fate of Poland lain in MY hands, she would have risen triumphant from the arena, where she has battled so bravely for her sacred rights!"
"Poland's fate lies in your majesty's hand!" exclaimed the countess, vehemently. "You have not yet signed the warrant for my country's execution; you are still innocent of her blood; your hand is still free from participation in the crime of her enemies and yours! Oh, let me kiss that hand and bless it, while yet it is spotless and pure as your noble heart."
Hurried away by the might of the sorrow that overwhelmed her, the countess darted forward, and throwing herself at the feet of the empress, drew her hand fervently to her lips.
"Rise, dear countess Anna, rise," said the empress, soothingly. "I cannot bear to see you at my feet, when I can do nothing to avert the fate of Poland."
"Who, then, can help her, if not your majesty?" cried the countess. "Oh, I did not come hither to reproach you; I came but to entreat you to speak the word that will disenthrall my country!"