"Give it to me, give it to me, Dietrich! Perhaps there is yet hope."
He emptied the cup, and again sank back. Dietrich knelt by his couch and murmured prayers, imploring God to be with the Electoral Prince and to save him from death. Hour after hour sped away. Evening drew near, the shades of night closed in, and still all was quiet and noiseless within the castle precincts. Count Schwarzenberg's feast proceeded undisturbed. It was truly a feast of enchantment, and even the Electress was carried away by it. Twice had she dispatched footmen to inquire after her son's health, and each time old Dietrich had sent word that the Prince had fallen into a sweet sleep, and that the doctor's medicine seemed to agree with him wonderfully well. Of this medicine Dietrich threw aside a spoonful every fifteen minutes, and instead of it gave the Prince his own prescription—warm milk. But still there was no alleviation of his sufferings, and even the violent vomiting, which twice ensued, had not diminished the Prince's pain.
In Count Schwarzenberg's palace now resounded strains of the most inspiriting dance music, and from the banqueting hall the company dispersed into the two ballrooms and the adjoining apartments. In the Electoral garden preparations were being made for fireworks, which were to be displayed as soon as the night was sufficiently dark. This was the reason why, on the approach of twilight, the sight-loving multitude came streaming hither again from all directions. The Elector had seated himself at the card table, and the Electress took a walk through the conservatory and the magnificent hothouses situated in the rear of the palace, access to which was had through the great reception hall. From the Elector, who was eagerly interested in his game, Count Schwarzenberg obtained permission to accompany the Electress. The whole company, with the exception of the gentlemen busied in card playing, followed them. Like a glittering, gigantic serpent, sparkling in all the colors of the rainbow, wound the long, unbroken procession through the hothouses. They admired the exquisite taste by which these long rooms had been transformed into gardens and shrubberies; enjoyed the rare, deliciously scented flowers which peeped forth here and there amid thickets of myrtle and orange tree; amused themselves with the birds of variegated plumage, suspended from the boughs in wire cages of most delicate workmanship. Each Ah! of delight that sounded from the lips of the Electress found its repeated echo in the long line of gentlemen and ladies following her; and these loud exclamations of delight and rapture were so many acts of homage and flattery offered at the shrine of Count Schwarzenberg, the great and mighty possessor of all these glories.
There were in that brilliant assemblage only two individuals who paid little attention to the beautiful birds and flowers about them, who did not chime in with the eulogies and conversation of the company. These two were Princess Charlotte Louise and Count John Adolphus Schwarzenberg. They followed immediately behind the Electress. The young count had offered the Princess his arm, which with a slight blush she had accepted. The Electress, who preceded them, was wholly absorbed in conversation with Count Adam Schwarzenberg, who by his witty, fascinating powers of address succeeded in enchaining her attention. The Princess Sophie Hedwig came behind her sister with two ladies of the court, chatting and laughing, looking hither and thither at birds and flowers, and, by her frequent pauses of admiration before some rare plant or chatting parrot, more than once detaining the whole company, so that there was an empty space between the first two couples and those following.
"I could fall at the feet of the Princess and kiss her hands in fervent gratitude," whispered Count Adolphus, when again the procession tarried behind them.
"Why so?" asked Charlotte Louise, smiling. "What has my sister done to merit such gratitude?"
"What? Why, she has granted me a blessed moment, in which I can tell you that I love you, boundlessly love you. Ah! why can I not speak this word aloud, that like a flash of lightning it may flame through this hall? That would be a fire which should unfold all blossoms and ripen all fruits. I love you, Charlotte Louise! I could kneel down here and repeat in strains of perpetual adoration to you, my mistress, my goddess, I love you, I am yours; but, alas! you—"
"Well," asked she with a beaming glance—"well, why do you not complete your sentence?"
"You are not mine," sighed he. "Were you so, then you would not answer the words which gush forth hot and ardent from my heart in such strange, cold fashion; then would you listen to my supplications, and grant me a moment's interview."
"Did I not tell you, Adolphus," whispered she, "that you were to meet old Trude on the castle square to-morrow morning early? She will be the bearer of a message for you."