The Secrets Of Potsdam Part 7

"How do you like my dress, Count? I designed it myself," she added.

I complimented her upon it, but I afterwards heard that the old King of Saxony had been horrified at the lowness to which the bodice had been cut, and, further, that every yard of green chiffon in Dresden had been sold out before noon next day and the dress copied everywhere.

As we stood chatting in a corner of the room, watching the scene of unusual brilliancy because of the Kaiser's presence, the Princess, turning to me, said suddenly:

"Do you believe in omens, Count von Heltzendorff?"

"Omens!" I exclaimed, rather surprised at her question. "Really, I'm afraid I am a little too matter-of-fact to take such things seriously, your Highness."

"Well, a curious thing happened here about a month ago," she said. "I was----" At that instant the Emperor, in the uniform of the 2nd Regiment of Saxon Grenadiers, of which he was chief, and wearing the Order of Crancelin of the House of Saxony, strode up, and, standing before us exclaimed:

"Well, Luisa? What is the very interesting topic of conversation, eh?"

He had evidently overheard her words about some curious thing happening, for, laughing gaily, he asked; "Now, what did happen a month ago?"

Her Imperial Highness hesitated, as though endeavouring to avoid an explanation, but next second she waved her lace fan quickly and said:

"Well, something remarkable. I will tell your Majesty if you really wish to hear it."

"By all means, Luisa, by all means," replied His Majesty, placing his sound hand behind his back and drawing himself up very erect--a habit of his after asking a question.

"Well, recently Friedrich-August and myself have moved into rooms in the older wing of the Palace--rooms that have not been occupied for nearly forty years. They are old-world, charming, and remind me constantly of Augustus the Strong and the times in which he lived. Just about a month ago the King and Queen of Roumania were paying us a visit. We were at dinner, and while we were all laughing and talking, for 'Carmen Sylva'

had been telling us one of her stories, we heard a great clatter of horses' hoofs and the heavy rumble of wheels, just as though a stage coach was crossing the Small Courtyard. All of us listened, and in the silence we heard it receding quite distinctly. I at once sent my lady-in-waiting to ascertain who had arrived or departed, four-wheeled coaches being quite unusual nowadays. It seemed just as though the coach had driven out of the Palace gate. The message brought back from the guardroom was that no carriage had entered or left. I told this to those around the table, and the Queen of Roumania, who had taken much interest in omens and folk-lore, seated opposite me, seemed much impressed, and even perturbed."

"Then the noise you heard must have been quite an uncanny one, eh?"

asked the Emperor, deeply interested.

"Quite. Two of the women at the table declared that it must have been thunder, and then the conversation proceeded. I, however, confess to your Majesty that I was very much puzzled, and the more so because only two nights ago, while we sat at dinner Friedrich-August and myself _en famille_, we heard exactly the same sounds again!"

"Really!" laughed the Emperor. "Quite uncanny. I hope, here in Dresden, you are not believing in spooks, as London society believes in them."

"Not at all," said the Princess earnestly. "I don't believe in omens.

But, curiously enough, the King told me yesterday that his two old aunts, who formerly lived in our wing of the Palace, had sometimes heard the clatter of horses' hoofs, the jingle of harness, the grinding of the brakes, and the rumbling of heavy carriage wheels."

"H'm!" grunted the Emperor. "I've heard that same story before, Luisa.

The departing coach means trouble to the reigning family."

"That is exactly what the King said to me only last evening," answered Luisa frankly. "Does it mean trouble to me, I wonder?"

"Certainly not," I declared. "Your Imperial Highness need not worry for one moment over such things. n.o.body nowadays regards such phenomena as presage of evil. There is no doubt some perfectly natural explanation of the sounds. Every old palace, castle, and even private house, has its traditions."

"Quite right, Heltzendorff," laughed the Emperor, "especially in England and Scotland. There they have white ladies, grey ladies, men with heads like stags, lights in windows, the sound of mysterious bells ringing, and all sorts of evil omens. Oh, those dear, superst.i.tious Englis.h.!.+ How ready they are to take up anything unpractical that may be a pleasant change to the senses."

"Your Majesty does not believe in omens?" I ventured to remark.

"Omens!" he exclaimed, fixing his gaze upon me. "No; none but cowards and old women believe in them." Then, turning to the Princess, he smiled, saying: "If I were you, Luisa, I would give your chief of police orders to question all the servants. Somebody rattled some dishes, perhaps. You say it was during dinner."

But the pretty Crown-Princess was serious, for she said:

"Well, all I can say is that not only did I myself hear, but a dozen others at table also heard the noise of horses, not dishes."

"Ah, Luisa! I see you are a trifle nervous," laughed the Emperor. "Well, as you know, your Royal House of Saxony has lasted from the days of Albert the Courageous in the early fifteenth century, and the Dynasty of the Ravensteins has been prosperous from then until to-day, so don't trouble yourself further. Why, you are really quite pale and unnerved, I see," His Majesty added, for nothing escapes those shrewd, wide-open eyes of his.

Then the Emperor, after acknowledging the salute of Baron Georg von Metzsch, Controller of the Royal Household--a tall, thin, crafty-eyed man, with hair tinged with grey, and wearing a dark blue uniform and many decorations--changed the topic of conversation, and referred to the Saxon Easter custom which that morning had been carried out.

The Kaiser was in particularly merry mood that night. He had gone to Dresden against his inclination, for he had long ago arranged an Easter review on the Tempelhofer Feld, but the visit was, I knew, for the purpose of a consultation in secret with the King of Saxony. A week before, in the Berlin Schloss, I had been sent by the Emperor to obtain a paper from his table in the upstairs study, and in looking for the doc.u.ment in question--one that he had signed and wished to send over to the Reichsamt des Innern (Office of the Interior)--I came across a letter from King George of Saxony, begging the Emperor to visit him, in order to discuss "that matter which is so seriously threatening the honour of our House."

Several times I wondered to what His Majesty of Saxony had referred.

That morning Emperor and King had been closeted alone together for fully three hours, and the outcome of the secret conference seemed to have put the All-Highest into a most excellent mood.

He left us, accompanied by Baron von Metzsch and Judicial Councillor Lohlein, and I noticed how both men were talking with the Emperor in an undertone. To my surprise also I saw how Lohlein cast furtive glances towards where I still stood with the Crown-Princess.

A few moments later, however, a smart officer of the Prussian Guard, whom I recognized as Count von Castell Rudenhausen, a well-known figure in the gay life of Berlin, came forward, and, bowing, invited the Princess to waltz.

And a moment later Luisa was smiling at me across the shoulder of her good-looking cavalier.

Suddenly, while waltzing, her magnificent rope of historic matched pearls accidentally caught in the b.u.t.ton of a pa.s.sing officer, the string snapped, and many of the pearls fell rattling upon the polished floor.

In a moment a dozen officers in tight uniforms were groping about to recover them from the feet of the dancers when, during the commotion, I heard the voice of Judicial Councillor Lohlein remark quite loudly:

"Ah! now we can all see who are the Crown-Princess' admirers!"

Luisa flushed instantly in anger and annoyance, but said nothing, whilst her lady-in-waiting in silence took the broken rope of pearls, together with those recovered from the floor, and a few moments later the significant incident ended.

The Saxon Crown-Prince and his wife were at that time a most devoted couple, though all of us knew that the modern ideas Luisa had brought to Dresden from the Hapsburg Court had much shocked old King George and his consort. The Saxon Court was unused to a pretty woman with buoyant spirits rejoicing in life with a capital "L." According to the Court whisperings, trouble had started a few days after marriage, when the King, having given his daughter-in-law a tiara of diamonds, a Royal heirloom, with strict injunctions to wear them just as they were--a style of the seventeenth century--he one evening at the opera saw her wearing the stones re-set in that style known as _art nouveau_. The King became furious, and ordered them to be set again in their original settings, whereupon Luisa coolly returned the present.

Such was the commencement of the old King's ill-feeling towards her.

The State ball that night was certainly a brilliant one for such a small Court, and next day we all returned to Potsdam, for the Emperor had suddenly cancelled a number of engagements and arranged to pay a visit to Wilhelmshaven, where the Kaiserliche Werft (Imperial Dockyard) contained certain naval secrets he wished to see.

Before we left Dresden, however, I met the Crown-Princess in one of the corridors. It was nine o'clock in the morning. She wore her riding-habit, for, being a splendid horsewoman, she had just come in from her morning canter.

"Well, Count!" she laughed. "So you are leaving us unexpectedly! I shall be coming to pay another visit to Potsdam soon. The Emperor invited me last night. Au revoir!" And after I had bent over her small white hand she waved it merrily and pa.s.sed the sentry towards her private apartments, wherein she had heard the ghostly coach and four.

Her Imperial Highness paid her promised visit to the Empress at the Neues Palais in July.

At the time of her arrival the Emperor had left suddenly and gone away to Hubertusstock. When anything unusual upset him he always went there.

I overheard him the day before his departure shouting to Lohlein as I pa.s.sed along one of the corridors. The Judicial Councillor seemed to be trying to pacify him, but apparently entirely without avail, for the Emperor is a man not easily convinced.

"You are as sly as all the rest!" I heard the Emperor declare in that shrill, high-pitched tone which always denotes his anger. "I'll hear none of it--no excuses. I want no fawning, no Jew-juggling."

Then, fearing to be discovered, I slipped on past the door.

The next I heard was that the Kaiser had left for that lonely retreat to which he went when he wished to be alone in those periods of crazy impetuosity which periodically seized the Mad Dog of Europe; and, further, that he had taken with him his crafty crony, Lohlein.

During that mysterious absence--when the tinselled world of Potsdam seemed at peace--the good-looking Saxon Crown-Princess arrived.

I was on duty on the railway platform to bow over her hand and to welcome her.