The Daltons; Or, Three Roads In Life. Volume II

“Farewell, Herr von Dalton. Farewell, Fräulein!” said Adolf. And with a bow of deep respect he slowly retired from the room, while Nelly turned to the window to conceal her shame and sorrow together.

“It was this very morning,” muttered Dalton, angrily, “when I spoke of giving a little dinner-party, you did nothing but turn up your nose at this, that, and t’ other. There was nobody good enough, forsooth! There was Monsieur Ratteau, the ‘croupier’ of the tables there, a very nice man, with elegant manners and the finest shirt-studs ever I seen, and you would n’t hear of him.”’

Nelly heard little of this reproachful speech, for, sunk in the recess of the window, she was following with her eyes the retiring figure of Adolf Brawer. He had just crossed the “Plate,” and ere he turned into a side street he stopped, wheeled round, and made a gesture of farewell towards the spot where, unseen by him, Nelly was still standing.

“He is gone!” muttered she, half aloud.

“Well, God speed him!” rejoined Dalton, testily. “I never could abide a pedler.”

CHAPTER VI. MADAME DE HEIDENDORF

Kate Dalton’s was a heavy heart as, seated beside her new friend, she whirled along the road to Vienna. The scenery possessed every attraction of historic interest and beauty. The season was the glorious one of an Italian spring. There were ancient cities, whose very names were like spells to memory. There were the spots of earth that Genius has consecrated to immortality. There were the scenes where Poetry caught its inspiration, and around which, even yet, the mind-created images of fancy seem to linger, all to interest, charm, and amuse her, and yet she passed them without pleasure, almost without notice.

The splendid equipage in which she travelled, the hundred appliances of ease and luxury around her, the obsequious, almost servile devotion of her attendants, recalled but one stern fact, – that she had sold herself for all these things; that for them she had bartered her warm affections, – her love of father and sister and brother, – the ties of home and of kindred, even to the Faith at whose altar she had bent her knees in infancy. She had given all for greatness.

In all her castle-buildings of a future, her own family bad formed figures in the picture. To render her poor father happy; to surround his old age with the comforts he pined after; to open to dear Nelly sources of enjoyment in the pursuit she loved; to afford Frank the means of associating with his comrades of rank, to mix in that society for which he longed, – these were her objects, and for them she was willing to pay dearly. But now she was not to witness the happiness of those she loved. Already the hard conditions of her contract were to be imposed. Banishment first, then Isolation; who could say what after?

Her travelling-companion was scarcely well calculated to smooth down the difficulties of this conflict in her mind. Madame de Heidendorf was the very reverse of Lady Hester. Without the slightest pretension to good looks herself, she assumed to despise everything like beauty in others, constantly associating its possession with the vanity of weak intellects; she threw a kind of ridicule over these “poor, pretty things,” as she loved to call them, which actually seemed to make beauty and folly convertible terms. Political intrigue, or, to speak more fairly, mischief-making in state affairs, was her great and only passion. By dint of time, patience, considerable cunning, and a very keen insight into character, she had succeeded in obtaining the intimacy of many of the first statesmen of Europe. Many had trusted her with the conduct of little matters which the dignity of diplomacy could not stoop to. She had negotiated several little transactions, opened the way to reconciliations, smoothed the road to briberies, and allayed the petty qualms of struggling morality, where any other than a feminine influence would have been coarse and indelicate.

As a good monarchist, she was always well received at the Austrian Court, and in St. Petersburg was accustomed to be treated with peculiar honor.

By what amount of compensation, or in what shape administered, Midchekoff had secured her present services, this true history is unable to record; but that Kate was eminently fortunate, drawing such a prize in the lottery of life as to enter the world under her auspices, were facts that she dwelt upon without ceasing.

Frankness and candor are very charming things. They are the very soul of true friendship, and the spirit of all affectionate interest; but they can be made very disagreeable elements of mere acquaintanceship. Such was Madame de Heidendorf s. She freely told Kate, that of all the great Midchekoff’s unaccountable freaks, his intended marriage with herself was the very strangest; and that to unite his vast fortune and high position with mere beauty was something almost incredible. There was a landgravine of Hohenhôckingen, an Archduchess, a main gauche of the Austrian house itself; there was a granddaughter of the Empress Catherine, with any of whom she could easily have opened negotiations for him, – all of them alliances rich in political influences. Indeed, there was another party, – she was not at liberty to mention the name; and though, to be sure, she was “blind and almost idiotic,” a union with her would eventually have made him a “Serene Highness.” “So you see, my dear,” said she, in winding up, “what you have cost him! Not,” added she, after a few seconds’ pause, – “not but I have known such marriages turn out remarkably well. There was that Prince Adalbert of Bohemia, who married the singing woman, – what’s her name? – that young creature that made such a sensation at the ‘Scala,’ – ’ La Biondina’ they called her. Well, it is true, he only lived with her during the Carnival; but there she is now, with her handsome house in the Bastey, and the prettiest equipage in the Prater. I know several similar cases. The Archduke Max and Prince Ravitzkay, – though, perhaps, not him; for I believe he sent that poor thing away to the mines.”

“His wife – to the mines!” gasped Kate, in terror.

“Don’t be frightened, my dear child,” said Madame, smiling; “be a good girl, and you shall have everything you like. Meanwhile, try and unlearn all those gaucheries you picked up with that strange Lady Hester. It was a shocking school of manners, – all those eccentric, out-of-the-way people, who lounged in and lounged out, talking of nothing but each other, utterly ignorant of the great interests that are at stake in Europe at this moment Try, therefore, and forget that silly coterie altogether. When we arrive at Vienna, you will be presented to the Archduchess Louisa.”

“And I shall see dear – dear Frank!” burst out Kate, with an irrepressible delight.

“And who is Frank, Madame?” said the other, proudly drawing herself up.

“My brother, – my only brother, – who is in the Austrian service.”

“Is he on the Emperor’s staff?”

“I know nothing of his position, only that he is a cadet.”

“A cadet, child! Why, do you know that that means a common soldier, – a creature that mounts with a musket, or carries a bread-bag over its shoulder through the streets in a fatigue-jacket?”

“I care nothing for all that. He may be all you say, and twice as humble, but he is my brother Frank still, – the playfellow with whom I passed the day when – when I was happy – as I shall never be again! – the fond, kind brother, whom we were all so proud of.”

An expression of scornful compassion on Madame de Heidendorf ‘s features at once stopped Kate, and she covered her face with her hands to hide her shame.

“Madame la Princesse,” began the Countess, – for whenever she peculiarly desired to impress Kate with her duties, she always prefaced the lesson by her new title, – “the past must be forgotten, or you will find yourself totally unable to compete with the difficulties of your station. There is but one way to make the Prince’s mésalliance pardonable, which is by as seldom as possible parading its details. If, then, you insist upon seeing your brother during our stay at Vienna, it must be in secret you said something, I think, of an old field-marshal, – a connection?”

“My father’s uncle, Madame.”

“Very true. Well, your brother can come with some letter or message from him; or if Nina, your maid, has no objection, he might pass for a lover of hers.”

“Madame!” cried Kate, indignantly.

“I said, if Nina made no objection,” said Madame de Heidendorf, as though answering the indignant exclamation. “But these are matters of my consideration, Madame, – at least, if I understand the spirit of the Prince’s instructions.”

Some such scene as this, usually closing with a similar peroration, formed the conversation of the road; and hour by hour Kate’s courage fell lower, as she contemplated all that her elevation had cost her. And what a mockery was it, after all! It was true that she journeyed in a carriage with all the emblazonry of royalty; that a group of uncovered lackeys attended her as she descended; that she was ever addressed by a proud title; a respectful, submissive devotion surrounding her at every instant But, amid all this, there was not one look, one word of kindness; nothing of interest or sympathy with her solitary grandeur. It mattered little that the bars of her cell were of gold; it was a prison still.

With what eagerness did she turn from the present, with all its splendor, to think of her former life, when, wandering among the hills of Baden she had listened to little Hans, or watched dear Nelly, as the first gleams of her intentions began to manifest themselves on a sculptured group. With what rapture had she heard passages that seemed akin to something she had felt but could not express! How had she loved the changeful effects of light and shade on a landscape where every tree or rock or cliff was familiar to her! Oh, if she could but be back again, hopeful, ardent, and trusting, as she once was! Oh, if the brief past could be but a dream, and she were once more beside her father and Nelly, knowing nothing of that world which, in so short a space, had revealed so much before her! Even to those who so lately had supplied the place of family to her, all were gone, and she was utterly alone.

She did not dare to think of George Onslow. It seemed to her like a treason to recall his memory; and if his image did rise at times before her fancy, a burning blush would cover her cheek, and a sense of shame would send a throb like agony through her heart. The plans and projects for her future life she heard of without interest; a vague and confused impression of a long journey, halting here and there to be presented to certain great and distinguished persons, and finally of her arrival at St. Petersburg, were all that she knew. That the Prince was to join her there, and then, with the Emperor’s permission, return with her to the south of Europe, – such were the outlines of a career over which a sinking heart threw a gloomy shadow.

Madame de Heidendorf was too occupied with her own thoughts to notice this despondency; besides that, she was incessantly teaching Kate some one requisite or other of that rigid etiquette which prevailed in the society she was about to enter; the precise titles by which she was to address this or that personage; how many courtesies to give here, how many reverences there, – little educational exercises that were always accompanied by some warning admonition of their importance to one who, like herself, had never seen anything like good society, and whose breaches of good breeding would be certain of being severely commented on.

“Think of the Prince, Madame,” she would say; “think of what he will suffer when they repeat any of your transgressions. I am afraid there are many humiliations in store for him. And what a step to take at such a moment, with these horrible Socialist doctrines abroad, – these levelling theories of equality, and so forth. I hope his Majesty the Emperor will pardon him; I hope he will forgive you.”

This was a favorite speech of hers, and so often repeated that Kate at last began to look on herself as a great criminal, and even speculated on what destiny should befall her if the Emperor proved unmerciful.

These were sorry resources to shorten the weariness on a Journey, and Kate felt a throb of pleasure – the first she had experienced – when the towers of St. Stephen, in the far distance, announced the approach to Vienna.

CHAPTER VII. AT VIENNA

The gossiping world of Vienna had a new subject for speculation and interest, as a guard of honor was seen standing at a large palace near the “Hoff;” and the only information to explain the mystery was that some great diplomatist had arrived the evening before, and Heaven knew what wonderful events were in his charge and keeping. A gigantic “Chasseur,” in green and gold, who lounged about the portal, followed by a great dog, – a “fanghund,” whose silver collar was embossed with many a quartering, – had engaged the attention of a very considerable crowd, which opened from time to time to permit the passage of some royal or princely equipage. As they thus fell back, a chance look would be directed upwards to the windows of the first floor, and there, passingly, they caught glimpses of one whose beauty soon formed the theme of every tongue. This was Kate Dalton, who, now rested from the fatigue of her journey, and dressed in the most becoming fashion, walked up and down a splendid saloon, watching to catch every sound, or gazing earnestly from the window to catch any sight that might betoken her brother’s coming. At Madame de Heidendorf’s suggestion she had written a few lines that morning early to the Field-Marshal von Dalton, entreating, as a great favor, that he would procure leave for Frank to come to her, and pass as much of his time as possible with her during her stay in Vienna. The note, brief as it was, cost her some trouble; she felt that much explanation might be necessary to state her present position, – even who she was, – and yet this was a subject she had no heart to enter into. Some expressions of affectionate interest towards himself would also have been fitting, but she could not find time for them. Frank, and Frank alone, was in her thoughts, and she left everything to the old General’s ingenuity, as she concluded her note by subscribing herself, “Your affectionate niece, Kate Dal ton, Affianced Princesse de Midchekoff.”

It was the first time that she had written the words, – the first time that she had ever impressed that massive seal of many quarterings, so royal-looking as it seemed. It was, also, the first time she had ever given an order to one of her servants; and the obsequious bows of the groom of the chamber, as he withdrew, were all separate and distinct sensations, – low, but clear knockings of vanity at her heart, to which every object around contributed its aid. The apartment was splendid; not in that gorgeous taste of modern decoration of which she had seen so much already, but in a more stately fashion, recalling the grandeur of a past age, and exhibiting traces of a long line of princely occupants. The very portraits along the walls had a proud and haughty bearing, and the massive chairs glittered in all the blaze of heraldry. If she looked out, it was the towers of the “Hoff Bourg” – the Home of the Hapsburgs – met her eye. If she listened, it was the clank of a soldier’s salute broke the stillness; while the dull roll of wheels beneath the arched gateway told of the tide of visitors who came to pay their homage.

If Kate’s heart had been less bound up with anxiety to see her brother, the scene beneath her window would have afforded her some interest, as equipage after equipage succeeded, – now the quiet splendor of a court chariot, now the more glaring magnificence of a cardinal’s carriage. Here came the lumbering old vehicle of an archhishop, the reverential salute of the crowd indicating the rank of its occupant Then the quick “present arms” of the sentry told of some general officer; while, at intervals, the “turn out” of the whole guard denoted the arrival of a royal prince. Ambassadors and ministers, chamberlains and chancellors, the dignitaries of the realm, the “Hautes Charges” of the Court, – all came in crowds to present their respects to the Gräfin, for by this brief designation was she known from one end of Europe to the other.

Madame de Heidendorf held a levée, and none would absent themselves from so interesting an occasion.

It was the eve of a wonderful moment in Europe – it was the little lull that preceded the most terrific storm that ever overturned thrones and scattered dynasties – as these illustrious personages were met together, to interchange compliments, to lisp soft phrases of flattery, and discuss the high claims of some aspirant for a ribbon or a cross, a “Red Eagle,” or a “Black” one. A few, more far-sighted than the rest, saw the cloud, not bigger than a man’s hand, in the distance. A few could hear the low rumblings that denoted the brooding hurricane; but even they thought “the thing would last their time.” And thus, with many a pleasant jest, they chatted over the events of the hour, praised the wisdom of kings, and laughed to scorn those vulgar teachers whose democratic theories were just beginning to be whispered about. Some were young, buoyant, and hopeful, ready to shed the last drop for the principles they professed; others were old gray-headed men, tried servants of Monarchy for half a century. But all were like-minded, and self-gratulation and compliment was the order of the day. Leaving them thus to such pleasant converse, where the clank of jewelled swords or the tap of a diamond snuff-box formed the meet accompaniments of the themes, we turn once more to her in whose fate we are more deeply interested.

Twice had she rung the bell to ask if the messenger had not returned. At last he came; but there was “no answer to her note.” Her impatience became extreme. She ordered the servant who carried the note to appear before her; questioned him closely as to whether he had taken it, and the reply he had received. A soldier had said, “Gut!” and shut the door. Poor Kate! It was her first lesson in “soldier laconics,” and to say truly, she did not take it well. The “Princesse de Midchekoff” might have been treated with more deference. She was passing a mirror as the thought struck her, and her mien and air gave support to the belief; nor could she restrain the sense of admiration, half tinged with shame, her own beauty evoked.

“There is a soldier here, Madame,” said a servant, “who has a letter he will not deliver except into your own hands.”

“Admit him – at once,” said she, impatiently; and as she spoke the soldier stepped forward, and drawing himself up, carried his hand to the salute, while, presenting a letter, he said, “From the Field-Marshal von Auersberg.”

Kate scarcely looked at the bearer, but hastily tore open the square-shaped epistle.

“You need not wait,” said she to the servant; and then turning to the letter, read, —

“‘Madame la Princesse and beloved Niece, – It was with – to me of late years – a rare satisfaction that I read the not the less affectionate that they were polite lines you vouchsafed to inscribe to me, an old and useless but not forgotten servant of an Imperial master. Immediately on perusing the aforesaid so-called note, I despatched my adjutant to the head-quarters of the Franz Carl, to obtain – no service rules to the contrary forbidding, nor any default’s punition in any wise preventing – a day’s furlough for the Cadet von Dalton – ”

“What regiment is yours?” said Kate, hastily, to the soldier.

“Franz Carl Infanterie, Highness,” said the youth, respectfully, using the title he had heard assumed by the servant.

“Do you know many of your comrades, – among the cadets, I mean?”

“There are but seven in the battalion, Highness, and I know them all.”

“Is Von Dalton an acquaintance of yours?”

“I am Von Dalton, Highness,” said the youth, while a flush of surprise and pleasure lighted up his handsome features.

“Frank! Frank!” cried she, springing towards him with open arms; and ere he could recognize her, clasping him round the neck.

“Is this real? Is this a dream? Are you my own sister Kate?” cried the boy, almost choked with emotion. “And how are you here? and how thus?” and he touched the robe of costly velvet as he spoke.

“You shall know all, dear, dear Frank. You shall hear everything when the joy of this meeting will let me speak.”

“They call you Highness; and how handsome you’ve grown!”

“Have I, Frank?” said she, pressing him down to a seat beside her, while, with hands interclasped, they sat gazing on each other.

“I am only beginning to remember you,” said he, slowly. “You never used to wear your hair in long ringlets thus. Even your figure is changed; you are taller, Kate.”

“It is the mere difference of dress, Frank,” said she, blushing with conscious pride.

“No, no; you are quite changed. Even as I sit here beside you, I feel I know not what of shame at my daring to be so near – ”

“So great a lady, you would say, dear Frank,” said she, laughing. “Poor boy, if you knew – ” She stopped, and then, throwing her arms around his neck, went on rapidly: “But, my own dear brother, tell me of yourself: are you happy; do you like the service; are they kind to you; is Uncle Stephen as we hoped he should be?”

“My story is soon told, Kate,” said he; “I am where I was the day I entered the army. I should have been made a corporal – ”

“A corporal!” cried Kate, laughing.

“A good thing it is, too,” said the youth. “No guards to mount, no fatigue duty, neither night patrol nor watch, and four kreutzers extra pay.”

“Poor dear boy!” cried she, kissing his forehead, while she gazed on him with a compassionate affection that spoke a whole world of emotion.

“But tell me of yourself, Kate. Why do they call you the Princess?”

“Because I am married, Frank, – that is, I am betrothed, and will soon be married.”

“And when did this occur? Tell me everything,” cried he, impatiently.

“You shall know all, dearest Frank. Yoo have heard how Lady Hester Onslow carried me away with her to Italy. Nelly has told you how we were living in Florence, – in what splendor and festivity; our palace frequented by all the great and distinguished of every country, – French and German, and Spanish and Russian.”

“I hate the Russians; but go on,” said the boy, hastily.

“But why hate the Russians, Frank?” asked she, reddening as she spoke.

“They are false-hearted and treacherous. See how they have driven the Circassians into a war, to massacre them; look how they are goading on the Poles to insurrection. Ay, they say that they have emissaries at this moment in Hungary on the same errand. I detest them.”

“This may be their state policy, Frank; but individually – ”

“They are no better; Walstein knows them well.”

“And who is Walstein, Frank?”

“The finest fellow in the service; the one I would have wished you married to, Kate, above all the world. Think of a colonel of hussars at eight-and-twenty, so handsome, so brave, and such a rider. You shall see him, Kate!”

“But it’s too late, Frank,” said she, laughing; “You forget it’s too late!”

“Ah! so it is,” sighed the boy, seriously. “I often feared this,” muttered he, after a pause. “Nelly’s letters told me as much, and I said to myself, ‘It will be too late.’”

“Then Nelly has told you all, perhaps?” said she.

“Not everything, nor, indeed, anything at all very distinctly. I could only make out what seemed to be her own impressions, for they appeared mere surmises.”

“And of what sort were they?” asked Kate, curiously.

“Just what you would suspect from her. Everlasting fears about temptations and trials, and so forth, continually praying that your heart might resist all the flatteries about you. The old story about humility. I thought to myself, ‘If the lesson be not more needful to Kate than to me, she runs no great risk, after all!’ for I was also warned about the seductions of the world! a poor cadet, with a few kreutzers a day, told not to be a Sybarite! Returning wet through from a five hours’ patrol, to burnish accoutrements in a cold, damp barrack, and then exhorted against the contamination of low society, when all around me were cursing the hardships they lived in, and execrating the slavery of the service!”