At this Freda suddenly burst into loud weeping. The mother remained dry-eyed.
“To-morrow,” she said, “there will be time enough for tears. To-night I will not show, so much as by the quiver of an eyelash, the pain and fear that are gnawing at me.”
At that moment they heard Gavin and St. Arnaud in the next room. Madame Ziska quickly dried her eyes, gently pushed the weeping Freda out of sight and hearing in the corridor, and appeared smiling calmly before Gavin and St. Arnaud.
“Now, this is what I wish to see,” cried Gavin—“a pleasant parting, without any tears or fears. There is no doubt about it, we go to beat the Prussians; we will return with increased rank and decorations, and we will be saying among ourselves, ‘How sensible it was to part gayly as we did!’”
“Quite true,” said his mother, smiling, and taking St. Arnaud’s arm to lead her to the coach, while Gavin lingered to say a gay farewell to Madame Ziska, and to call Freda, who remained weeping and invisible on the landing of the back stairs.
In a little while they were at the palace, where a great crowd of persons, military and civil, had assembled to do honour to the army, through General Loudon. Kaunitz was there, superbly dressed as usual, with his eagle eye fixed on the French ambassador, to make sure that he noted the loyalty and enthusiasm of all present. The young archdukes and archduchesses, from the Crown Prince, a handsome young man of seventeen, standing behind his mother’s chair, down to the pretty little princesses, with their governesses, grouped in a gallery overlooking the splendid scene, were all present.
St. Arnaud and Gavin with Lady Hamilton secured a good place of observation in the grand salon, where the ceremony of bestowing the order was to take place. The Empress Queen and the Emperor sat in gilded arm-chairs upon the same daïs that they had occupied at the first royal levee Gavin had attended. The Empress Queen looked even more superb than Gavin had yet seen her. Fearful as had been the blows that had befallen her armies, she was ready again, with lion-like courage, to meet her ancient enemy. Every heart in Austria and Hungary might grow faint, but Maria Theresa knew not what fear meant. She was talking with great animation to those around her, with her fine, expressive eyes flashing, and her full, red lips wreathed in smiles. When danger was at hand, then was she most full of vivid life. The Emperor at her side showed equal cheerfulness. Occasionally, the Empress Queen would turn to him and make a smiling remark, to which he would respond in kind. At length, a hush fell upon the company; General Loudon had entered the hall. He was entirely unaccompanied, and dressed in a very splendid uniform. Immediately way was made for him, and he proceeded up the aisle thus formed to the daïs. At the sight of his countenance an involuntary smile went around. His naturally rugged features looked still more homely under the embarrassment of so much notice. He ambled along with the utmost awkwardness, glanced around desperately when he reached the foot of the daïs, as if looking for a place to run away; and when the Empress Queen, with her characteristic grace, pinned the magnificent decoration on his breast, he almost fell over the royal footstool in his attempt to kneel and kiss her hand.
“Never mind,” whispered St. Arnaud. “Wait until you see him leading the charge up a hill, with Prussians well posted at the top. He never falters or palters then, nor falls over anything, nor looks around to see if there is any chance of running away.”
The air of hope and encouragement worn by the Empress Queen was infectious. All were under the influence of excitement, and it brought brightness to the eyes and a ringing echo to the voices of all. Never had Gavin passed a gayer evening, nor had St. Arnaud. As for Lady Hamilton, many mothers and wives and sisters were present who were no less brave than she; but if she had been asked to name one of the periods of most exquisite misery in her life, it would have been the night of that brilliant levee, when, with a head proudly erect and a smiling face, she walked through the stately splendours of a palace.
Before midnight they were home again. Madame Ziska had a delicious supper waiting for them, and Kalenga’s chair was already drawn up to the table. Amid laughter and toasts and the most dazzling anticipations, on Gavin’s part, of the campaign, an hour was passed. Then they heard the tramping of horses at the door, as the orderly brought them trotting down the stony street.