CHAPTER XXX. THE TRIUMVIRATE.
While Wilhelmine’s servant gave himself up to his hopes, slowly down the broad avenue, an elegant four-in-hand carriage rolled past him, and stopped at the house where lived Colonel Bischofswerder, long before he had reached the Brandenburg Gate. A gentleman sprang out, hastening past the footman into the house, where a servant evidently awaited his arrival, and preceded him with devout mien, throwing open the wide folding-doors and announcing, in a solemn voice—“His excellency, Count Cagliostro.” He then respectfully withdrew, bowing profoundly as the count passed, and closed quickly and noiselessly the doors behind him.
The two gentlemen within hastened to meet the count, who nodded smilingly, and extended to them with a gracious condescension his white hand sparkling with diamonds. “My dear brothers,” said he, “you have unfortunately announced me the truth—Wilhelmine Enke is faithless—is an apostate.”
“A courtesan, ensnared by the devil of unchastity,” murmured the elder of the two—a man of long, lank figure, pale, pock-marked face, the broad high forehead shaded with but little hair, the watery blue eyes turned upward, as if in pious ecstasy, and the large, bony hands either folded as if in prayer, or as if in quiet contemplation, twirling his thumbs around each other. “I have always said so,” said he, with a long-drawn sigh; “she is a temptress, whom Satan, in bodily repetition of himself, has placed by the prince’s side, and his salvation cannot be counted upon until this person is removed.”
“And you, my beloved brother, think otherwise—do you not?” asked Cagliostro, gently.
“Yes,” answered Bischofswerder, “you know well, sublime master and ruler, how much I esteem and love the worthy and honorable Wollner, and how much weight his opinion has with me. In all my reports to the Invisible Fathers I have always particularly mentioned him, and it was upon my wish and proposal that they appointed him director of one of the three Berlin circles. He is occupied near me in the confederacy, and is also in the service of the crown prince, for it was by my especial, earnest recommendation that his highness called him to Berlin from the exchequer of Prince Henry at Rheinsberg, that he might give him lectures in politics and other branches of administration, I do not say it to boast, although I have always regarded it as an honor to have opened the way to a distinguished man, to have his great talents properly valued. I only say it to prove my high appreciation of dear brother Wollner, and to defend myself, master, in your eyes, that I differ in opinion from him, and do not advise a violent removal of this person, to whom the prince is more attached than he himself knows of.”
“It is not necessary to excuse yourself to me, my son,” said Cagliostro, pompously. “The eyes which the Invisibles have lighted up with a beam of revelation, see into the depths of things, and reveal the most hidden. I have glanced into your hearts, and I will tell you that which I have therein read. You, Hans Rudolph von Bischofswerder, belong to the world; its joys and sorrows agitate you. You have a longing for science and the knowledge of the Invisibles, and you would also enjoy the Visibles, and take part in the pleasures of life. What you would allow yourself, that you would also grant to your royal master, whose friend and leader you are, and who, one day, will be the future king and ruler of the visible world, and a faithful son and servant of the Invisibles. Is it not thus?”
“It is so,” answered Bischofswerder, who, with wondering astonishment, drank in every word that fell from Cagliostro’s lips as a revelation. “You have read the inmost thoughts of my heart, and what I scarcely suspected myself, you are knowing of, lord and master.”
“Toil and strive, my son, and you shall rise to the highest grade, in which presentiment and recognition, thinking and knowing, are one.”