Chapter 3 BARON VON KOLBIELSKY.

Leonore had accompanied her father into the anteroom and listened in breathless silence to his departing footsteps.

Then, rushing to the window, she threw it open and gazed down into the street. Yes, she saw him enter a carriage and drive off in it, turning once to nod to her.

With a sigh of relief she went back to her boudoir. Her whole being seemed transformed. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkled, and a happy smile hovered around her lips as she glanced at the clock.

"Twelve!" she cried joyously, "twelve! He will come! I shall see him again. Ah, there he is! There he is!"

She darted to the door to open it. She had not been mistaken. He was there, the man whom she expected. With a cry of joy he opened his arms, and she threw herself into them, clasping her arms around his neck, and laid her head upon his breast.

"Welcome, my beloved one, welcome! Oh, how delightful it is to rest upon your breast!"

"And what happiness to clasp you in my arms, Leonore! Raise your head, my sweet love; let me see your beautiful face and sun myself in your eyes."

She lifted her face to his, gazing at him with a happy smile. "I see myself in your eyes, dearest."

"And you would see yourself in my heart also, if you could look into it, Leonore. But come, my queen, sit down and let me rest at your feet and look up to you as I always do in spirit."

He accompanied her to the divan and pressed her down upon the silken cushions. Then, reclining at her feet, he laid his clasped hands in her lap and resting his chin upon them, gazed up at her.

"Do you really love me, Leonore? Can you, the proud, petted, much courted Baroness de Simonie, really love the poor adventurer, who has nothing, is nothing, calls nothing his own, not even his heart, for that belongs to you."

"I love you, because you are what you are," she said, smiling, stroking his black hair lightly with her little white hand.

"I love you because you are different from every one else; because what attracts others does not charm you; what terrifies others does not intimidate you; I love you precisely because you are the poor adventurer you call yourself. Thank heaven that you are no sensible, prudent, deliberate gentleman, who longs for titles and orders, for money and position, but the clever adventurer who calls nothing his own save his honor, seeks nothing save peril, loves nothing save-"

"Loves nothing save Leonore," he ardently interrupted. "Believe me, it is so! I love nothing save you, and, until I knew you, I did not know even love, only hate."

"Hate?" she asked, smiling. "And whom did you hate, my loved one?"

"The foes of my native land," he cried, while a dark, angry flush swept over his handsome, expressive face, and his dark eyes flashed more brightly.

"The foes of your native land?" she repeated, smiling. "And who are these hated foes?"

"The Prussians and the Emperor Napoleon. It was the Prussians who first dismembered my hapless country. Oh, I was but a little boy when the Empress Catharine and King Frederick stole the fairest portions of hapless Poland. I did not understand my mother's tears, my father's execrations, but as my father commanded me, I laid my hand upon the Bible and vowed eternal, inextinguishable hatred of the Prussians. And the boy's vow has been kept by the man. I have struggled ceaselessly against these ambitious land-greedy, avaricious Prussians; fought with my tongue, my sword, and my pen. And when at last, at Jena, they were vanquished and forced to bow to the very dust, I exulted, for their defeat was Poland's vengeance. God was requiting the wrong they had done to Poland. Since then I have no longer hated the Prussians, but I despise them."

"And whom do you hate now?" she asked, gazing lovingly at him with her large, dreamy eyes.

"Him, the traitor, the actor, and liar, the Emperor Napoleon!" he cried, starting up and pacing excitedly to and fro. "Ah, Leonore, why did you lay your hand upon the great, ever-aching wound in my heart? Why did you ask about my hate when I wished to speak to you only of my love? Why do you wish to see that my heart is bleeding when you ought only to know that it exults in love? Yet perhaps it is better so; better that you should behold it wholly without disguise; that you should know it not only loves, but hates. Leonore, all my love is yours, all my hate Napoleon's. I came to Vienna by the behest of my hate, and for the first time, I found here what I had never known-love. Hitherto my heart had belonged to my native land, now it is yours, Leonore. The poor adventurer, who, under manifold forms, in manifold disguises, under many names, had wandered through the world, always in the service of his native land and vengeance, has now found a home at your feet, and it sometimes happens that he forgets grief for his country in the joy of his love. And yet, Leonore, yet there are bitter, sorrowful hours, in which I execrate my love itself; in which I feel that I will rend it from my heart; that I must escape from it into the hate which hitherto has guided and fixed my whole existence."

"If you feel and think thus, you do not love me," she said mournfully.

"Yes, I love you, Leonore; love you with rapture, with anguish, with despair, with joy. Yet I ask myself what will be the goal and end of this love? I ask myself when this sun, which has shone upon me through one beautiful, splendid day, will set?"

"It will never set, unless by your desire," she cried, putting her arms around his neck and bending to imprint a kiss upon his brow.

"It will set, for I am not created to live in sunshine and enjoy happiness. My life belongs to my native land! I have sworn to consecrate it to my country, and I must keep my oath. I dare not give myself up to love until I have done enough for hate; I dare not enjoy happiness ere I have fulfilled vengeance."

"Vengeance, my dearest? On whom do you wish to take vengeance?"

"On him who stole my native land; who deluded us for years with false hopes, with lying promises; who promised us liberty and in return gave us bondage. I seek to avenge my country on Napoleon-"

"Hush! for God's sake, hush!" she cried, trembling violently, as she pressed her hand upon his lips. "Do not utter such words; do not venture even to think them; for even thoughts bring danger, and speech will bring you death."

"Ah," he cried, laughing, "does my proud, royal Leonore fear? Does she fear in her own house, in her boudoir, where love alone can hear?"

"And hate," she said anxiously. "For you say that not only love, but hate, dwells in your heart."

"But not in yours, Leonore. No, in your heart dwells only love, and I will trust it. Yes, you beautiful, glorious woman, I will give you a proof of my infinite love and confidence. You shall know my secrets and I will tell you what I have yet betrayed to no woman on earth."

"No, no," she cried vehemently; "no, I will hear nothing. I do not wish to know your secrets; for I might reveal them in my sleep. They might fill my soul with such anguish and terror, that they would occupy it even in slumber, and I might tell in my dreams what I certainly would not disclose in waking, though I were exposed to the tortures of the rack. Oh, love, I fear your secrets, and I fear that they threaten you with peril! Give them up. If my love has any power over you, I entreat you: renounce them. Resign all your plans of hate and vengeance! Cast thoughts of anger from you! You have lived and labored for your native land long enough. Now, my love, dismiss hatred from your heart, and yield it to love! Renounce vengeance and allow yourself happiness! You say that you love me-give me a proof of it, a divine, beautiful proof! Let us fly, my beloved one, fly from this world of falsehood, treachery, hate, and anger, to conceal ourselves in a quiet corner of the earth, where no one knows us, where the noise of the world does not penetrate, where we shall learn nothing more of its dissensions and wars, where only love and peace will dwell with us; where, clasped in each other's embrace, we can rest on Nature's bosom and receive from her healing for all our wounds, comfort for all our losses. Oh, let us fly, for I know well that, so long as you are here-here in this world of strife and intrigue-you will not be mine; you cannot wrench yourself away from the numerous relations which hold and bind you, draw you into their perilous circle. Give them up. Let us rend these bonds which fetter you and will drag you to destruction. Let us go to America; far, far away to some quiet, unknown valley, where there are no human beings, and therefore there will be no falsehood and no treachery, no battles and strife. There let us dwell in the divine peace of creation; live as Adam and Eve lived in Paradise, quietly and at rest in the precincts of pure human happiness."

"And you would, you could, do this for me?" he asked, gazing with admiring eyes at her glowing face, radiant with enthusiasm. "You, the petted queen of society, the spoiled, delicate daughter of luxury and wealth, you could resolve to lead a quiet, simple, unknown life, far from the world and men?"

"Oh," she exclaimed, "such an existence would be my happiness, my ecstasy, my bliss. I would greet it exultingly. I long for it with all the powers of my soul, all the fervor of my heart. Give it to me, my beloved; give us both this life of solitude and divine peace. Speak one word-say that you are ready to fly with me-I will arrange everything for our escape; will guide us both to liberty, to happiness. Speak this one word, and I will sever every tie that binds me to the world; my future and my life will belong to you alone. We will strip off all the luxury that surrounds us as the glittering snake-skin with which we have concealed our real natures, and escape into the solitude as free, happy children of God. If such a life of peace and rest does not satisfy you; if you wish to labor and create, be useful to mankind, we can find the opportunity. We will buy a tract of land in America, gather around us people to cultivate it, create a little state whose prince you will be, which you will render free and happy and content. Say that you will, my loved one; tell me that you will make my golden dreams of the future a reality-oh, tell me so and you will render me the proudest and happiest of women. My dearest, you have so long devoted your life to hate, consecrate it now to love; let yourself be borne away by it. It will move mountains and fly on the wings of the morning through every realm. Hitherto you have called Poland your native land-now let love be your country, and you shall find it on my breast. Come, my darling, come! My arms are opened to embrace you; they are ready to bear you away, far away from this battle-rent, blood-soaked Europe. Save yourself, my beloved, save me! Come to my arms, let us fly to America!"

She held out her arms, gazing at him with a happy, loving smile. But he did not rise from his knees to fall upon her breast; he only bowed his head lower and kissed the hem of her dress-kissed her feet, which he pressed to his bosom.

"Alas!" he sighed sadly, "this little foot, in its white satin shoe, is not created for the rough paths of life; it would be torn and blood-stained by their thorns, and the fault would be mine. No, my sweet love, you shall not for my sake renounce the world of pleasure and splendor whose queen you are, even though you wish it, and perhaps even long for the peace and quiet of solitude. I must not accompany you thither, must not be faithless to myself. For the most terrible and inconsolable thing which can befall a man is to be faithless to himself and turn from the way which he himself has chosen, and from the goals which he himself has appointed. But I should do this, Leonore, if I renounced the goals and efforts of my whole past life, and turned from what I have hitherto regarded as the most sacred purpose of my existence. You yourself, Leonore, cannot wish it, for then how could you trust my fidelity, my love, if, for your sake, I could be untrue to my native land, my sacred duty. No, Leonore, my heart is yours, but my brain and life belong to my country. I came to Vienna to serve it. The great patriots of Poland sent me here. 'Go to Austria, they said, and serve there the sacred cause of freedom and human dignity.' And I went, and am here to serve it. Many are in the league with me, struggling with me toward the same goal. No one knows the others, but in the decisive hour we shall all work together for the one great object. And this hour will soon come; all the preparations are made, all the plans are matured. It is approaching. The great hour of sacred vengeance is approaching. You do not wish me to initiate you into my secrets, Leonore, and I now feel that you are right, for every sharer in these secrets is imperiled by them, and I will not draw you, my beloved one, into the dangerous circle, where I am bound. But if a gracious destiny grants our plans success, if the great venture which we have determined upon succeeds, then, Leonore, I will come to you, hold out my hand, and exultingly repeat the question which to-day I dare only to whisper timorously: Leonore, will you be my wife?"

She did not answer immediately, but covered her glowing face with her hands, while her whole frame trembled with emotion. "Oh," she groaned sorrowfully, "you will never repeat the question, for you will perish in the dangers which you are preparing for yourself."

"No," he cried joyously, "I shall not perish in them, and I shall come to repeat my question. Believe me, love, and be glad and strong. Do not fear for me, and forgive me if, during the next few days, I keep away from you. The last preparations for our great enterprise are to be made; all my strength of mind, all the courage of my soul must be summoned, and perhaps I might be cowardly and weak if I should see you, gaze into your beloved face, and think of the possibility that I was beholding it for the last time; that death might clasp me in his arms ere I again pressed you to my heart. So I will bid you farewell, my dearest, farewell for a week. During this time, remember me, pray for me, and love me. A week, my dear one, then I will return to you; and then, oh, then may I be permitted never to leave you again; then perhaps we shall make the dream of your heart a reality, and in some valley of the New World seek for ourselves a new world of happiness."

He again pressed her closely in his arms and imprinted a long, ardent kiss upon her lips. "Farewell, beloved, farewell for a week, an eternity."

"Do not say that; do not talk so!" she cried, trembling, as she threw her arms around his neck and clung closely to him. "Oh, do not speak of an eternity of separation, as you bid me farewell, or my arms will hold you to draw you by force from the dangers that threaten you; my lips will betray you by calling for help and accusing you of a conspiracy, merely to save you-compel you to renounce your perilous plans."

"If you should do that, Leonore; if even for love of me you could become a traitress, I would kill myself, but ere I died I would curse you and invoke heaven's vengeance upon you! But why conjure up such terrible pictures! I know that my Leonore would be incapable of treachery, and that, during this week of separation, no word, no look, no hint, will betray that her mind is anxious and that some care oppresses her."

"I swear to you that by no word, no look, no hint will I betray anything," she said solemnly. "I swear that I will not even attempt to guess your secrets, in order not to be disturbed by them. But one question more, dearest. I shall give an entertainment to-morrow. Count Andreossy, Colonels Mariage and Schweitzer, Captain de Guesniard, and the two Counts von Poldring will be present, as well as Generals Berthier and Massena, and several men who are prominent in aristocratic Austrian society. Will you not attend my reception? Will you not come to-morrow?"

"No," he replied, "no, I cannot attend gay entertainments now. My week of exile begins from this hour, and the first festival for me will be when I again clasp you in my arms. And now, dearest, let me go. This last kiss on your eyes-do not open them until I have left you; for your eyes exert a magic power, and if they are gazing at me I shall not have courage to go. Farewell, my beloved star, farewell, and when you rise for me once more, may it be for the radiant hour of a reunion, unshadowed by fresh pangs of parting."

He pressed a last lingering kiss upon her eyes. She submitted and sat quietly with closed lids and clasped hands until the door had closed behind him and the sound of his steps died away in the anteroom.

Then she slipped from the divan upon her knees, and, raising her hands to heaven, cried: "I thank Thee, oh God, I thank Thee. He is not one of the conspirators; he has no share in these plans; for he is not coming to the entertainment to-morrow, and therefore does not belong to those who have their secret appointment with me. Oh, God be praised for it, and may He guard and protect him in all his enterprises! I do not wish to know them; I will not investigate them. Thou, oh God, canst shield and defend him. Thou alone!"

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