Directly after his arrival, Heinrich went to Ottilie's physician to make inquiries about the state of her health. It was of importance to himself to be correctly informed in this respect; for it would have been very useless to base his ambitious plans upon one doomed to an early death. With her, these, and perhaps even the favor of the prince, might sink into the grave; since he had described her as healthy, the responsibility would fall upon him if she died. The physician, it is true, said that she was delicate, but, according to the principles of the old school, declared that her illness was a nervous one; and Heinrich boldly requested a private audience with Ottilie to obtain her consent before he presented himself to the Prince of H---- as an ambassador.
As he passed through the antechamber, a fair-haired little waiting-maid issued from Ottilie's room, glided by, starting violently as she caught sight of him, and disappeared through a side door. Heinrich perceived with astonishment that it was Röschen. The servant ushered him into the reception-room. The uniform, unvarying stream of hot air from a Russian stove vibrated around him with suffocating sultriness, increased by the fragrance of numberless flowers grouped in hot-house fashion in the lofty windows of stained glass. The heavy carpets and portières exhaled warmth; it seemed to Heinrich as if his lungs were bursting with the longing for a breath of fresh air. He dreaded this first meeting, for in Ottilie's presence his insolent frivolity deserted him, and he stood before her as if she were his conscience. The fervent heat and deathlike stillness that surrounded him increased his embarrassment. There is something strange in the official silence of royal apartments, which rouses the greatest excitement and impatience in any one who is anxiously awaiting an important audience. This was the case with Heinrich. He wished to repeat what he was to say to Ottilie, but could no longer remember it. "How shall I appear before her?" was his only thought; and the polished courtier feared this great soul whose prophetic vision had penetrated his inmost heart, and which he now approached like a thief, to try to steal it for his own plans.
A clock struck twelve, and was answered from every side by a multitude of larger and smaller ones, whose buzzing and humming lasted several minutes; then all was silent as before. Heinrich uttered a deep sigh. Why did she linger so long? Was she, too, obliged to collect her thoughts, and could she not obtain the composure needed to receive him? "Oh, God! if she should love me still!" he thought, wiping the cold perspiration from his brow.
Just then a door opened noiselessly,--he did not notice it,--and Ottilie floated across the room as lightly as if her feet did not touch the carpet.
Heinrich started as if roused from a dream, when, beautiful as a glorified spirit, she stood before him. Both looked at each other a moment in silence neither could find words; their souls were too full for the narrow forms of speech.
At last Ottilie held out her hand to him, and there was deep sadness in her expression as she said, "Is it really you?"
"I understand the reproof in your question, princess," replied Heinrich. "I was prepared for it; and yet accompanied with that voice and glance, it now pierces deep into my breast. As the ambassador of my princely master, I had courage to appear before you--as your friend. My heart trembles, for I well know I shall not bear your sublime, angelic judgment."
Ottilie motioned to him to be seated. "Yes," she began, after a pause, "I had wished to see you a different man, and I do not even know whether I still have the right to tell you so."
"Speak! heap upon my head the whole burden of your accusation, princess."
"Do not fear reproaches from me. All that there is to be said I represented to you, if I remember rightly, long ago. You did not obey my warning voice; what was useless then will also be vain now."