Part 27 (1/2)
The dressing was quickly finished. ”The new star is magnificent,” said Anton.
_Heinrich_ looked at his image in the mirror with the satisfaction of a man who knows he is handsome, and reckons his beauty among his own merits, as if he had compelled nature to give him the form he desired.
”I must go to Cornelia after dinner and show myself to her. She understands and values my beauty better than any one else,” he thought, pus.h.i.+ng the order straight. ”Besides, it will do no harm to let her see some of my importance as a courtier; old Veronica takes the matter too easily. It is not I, but she, who lulls the dear creature into dreams for which I am not responsible. It is not I who deceive her, but Veronica, when she a.s.sumes as a matter of course a.s.surances I never gave; and yet I cannot, by a premature contradiction, destroy my whole happiness. I would far rather resolve to verify them, if there could be no other arrangement.” A ray of sunlight fell upon the diamonds in his order and made them glitter. ”Do you wish to warn me, you star of honor, that you sparkle so? No, I will not forget you. Let others yearn for the stars of you unattainable distance; my earthly wishes depend upon you, that you may not pale before the sun, but with your rays make your chosen one s.h.i.+ne forth from the darkness of obscurity, and distinguish him from the ma.s.ses. With you on my heart, and Cornelia's love within it, what do I need more?”
A servant announced that the carriage was waiting.
_Heinrich_ took his gold-embroidered hat, and smiling, threw himself upon the soft cus.h.i.+ons. The beautiful white horses tossed their heads, and dashed away through sunlit avenues and crowds of gayly-dressed foot-pa.s.sengers.
The dinner, the first which had been given since the marriage, was magnificent. The court displayed its greatest splendor. Ottilie herself was one of the most stately personages who ever graced a throne.
Although no smile rested upon her lips, she did the honors in a most winning manner, and was gracious even to _Heinrich_, although no more so than to all others. The prince, however, treated him with marked distinction, and once whispered, casting a well-pleased glance at Ottilie, ”You were right; she is a real princess.” The princes, princesses, and courtiers who were present followed their master's example and loaded Ottmar with civilities; had never been so attractive or so much admired. He stood at the zenith of his favor at court; and when, after the dinner was over, he drove to Cornelia, he scarcely saw that it was already dusk, so brightly did the lights, the white necks, the sparkling glances, the diamonds, and the gold-embroidered uniforms still gleam before his eyes; glittering silken robes rustled around him; smiling faces looked forth longingly from behind costly bouquets.
The material comfort of the moment was too great not to rouse the other half of his nature. _Henri_ alighted when the carriage stopped. He pulled the bell, and the door of the silent house slowly opened. The staircase was dark. The black form of a servant glided by and ushered him into the anteroom. The salon stood open; he entered. It, too, was dark and empty; everything was in disorder: the furniture was pushed back, and there were no roses blooming on the flower-stand. _Henri_ felt strangely oppressed. The gloomy silence ill suited his mood. A glimmer of light and a dull murmur of voices penetrated through a door which was partly ajar. He opened it, and stood as if rooted to the spot. Several women were engaged in dressing a corpse. _Henri_ pressed his hand to his brow; was he awake, or did some dream torture him with its sudden changes, in order to show him in a single hour the splendor of the world and the end of all lives? Just at that moment Cornelia, who had been completely absorbed in her mournful occupation, suddenly perceived him, came forward in her mourning robes, looking very pale and languid, and drew him aside.
”My dear Cornelia,” said _Henri_, kissing her tearful eyes, ”what has happened since yesterday? I can scarcely trust my senses. What a contrast!”
”Ah, _Heinrich_ thank G.o.d, you have come at last! Ever since early this morning I have borne this terrible sorrow alone, longing in vain for your warm heart. Alas, how heavily such an unexpected blow falls!”
”My poor, sweet love, you are trembling as if in an ague-fit! Who would have thought of this? Kind Veronica dead!”
She nestled timidly in his arms. ”_Heinrich_, my heart aches terribly, and besides I feel this horror of death. You do not know what it is to dress a cold body which is no longer the dear one it personates.”
”Then leave the others to finish the task, and stay with me, my angel.”
”We have finished it, and they want to bring her in here. You must go into the tea-room, or they will see you.”
”Willingly. But now leave everything to these women and come with me.
You are completely worn out.”
”Yes, I will stay with you. I can no longer be a witness,” said Cornelia; then gave the necessary orders to the servants, and went into the tea-room with _Henri_. They had scarcely entered it when they heard pieces of furniture pushed aside, and the creaking of the coffin, which, when once heard, is never forgotten. Cornelia trembled violently, sank down beside _Henri_, and bursting into tears, hid her face upon his breast until the noise was over. Then she looked up. ”You think me very weak, do you not? I have kept up all day, but now my strength is exhausted; terror has overpowered me.”
_Henri_ gently raised her and drew her on his knee. She made no resistance, but threw her arms around his neck; her head sank wearily upon his shoulder, and joy and sorrow, deadly horror and sweet content, began to mingle strangely.
”Oh, do not give way!” said _Henri_ to himself, while his throbbing heart seemed ready to burst. He cradled her in his arms as if she had been a child, and breathed upon her cold hands.
Gradually her tears ceased, and warmth returned to her cheeks and hands. Never is a woman more grateful or more susceptible to love than when a great sorrow has broken her strength, and she gropes helplessly for some support. At this moment Cornelia could have wors.h.i.+ped her lover as some superior being; all suspicion was forgotten, she clung to him as if he were some consoling angel.
”Cornelia, are you happy now that you are clasped to my heart?”
whispered _Henri_.
”Oh, infinitely happy!” she murmured. ”What should I be without you, my life? Now I am cast wholly upon you, you will never forsake your orphaned love?”
_Henri_ strained her to his breast with almost suffocating violence, and exclaimed from his inmost heart, with the utmost sincerity, ”If I ever forsake you, accursed be the hour when I was born, the couch on which I rest, the air I breathe, the lips with which I kiss! I raise my hand and call upon all the powers of evil to witness against me if I break my oath.”
Cornelia laid her finger on his lips. ”Do not be so violent; that is no oath, but a curse.”
”Is it not equally binding?”
”Certainly; but it makes me anxious: as if there would be no blessing upon it; as if you felt the possibility of becoming faithless, and your better self was threatening you with punishment.”