🧚 Legends and Tales., part 2 · page 2

Here she made the acquaintance of the Chevalier d'Aubert--or d'Auban--who had been in St. Petersburg.65 One day, when alone with Charlotte, he fell on his knees and confessed his recognition of her.66

The Princess took from him the most solemn promise of the strictest secrecy.67

Not long after the papers brought the news of the tragical end of Alexis, the probability of his having been beheaded.68

Charlotte, however, resolved to remain as dead.69 The death of her devoted man-servant, who had been of such service, caused her many tears, and d'Aubert devoted himself to her, became her chief prop and stay, and at length the royal widow rewarded him with her hand.70

D'Aubert finally fell ill, and they returned to his native France, where his recovery was her reward.71

They were in the habit of walking in the gardens of the Tuileries.72 One day, sitting there conversing in German, chance led the celebrated Marshal Moritz von Saxony past them.73 Surprised to hear his mother tongue so purely spoken by Americans, as he imagined, he approached them, addressed the lady, started, and instantly recognized the Princess Charlotte of Blankenburg, whom he had long years reckoned among the dead.74

Madame d'Aubert conjured him not to betray her secret, told him her story, and how it had been chiefly through his mother she had succeeded in escaping from Russia.75

Delighted at the double discovery, Moritz promised to keep the secret three months, at the expiration of which time he declared it to be his duty to communicate the fact to the King of France, Louis XV.76

D'Aubert being recovered, they sailed for l'ile Bourbon.77 At the end of three months Moritz revealed the secret to the French sovereign, and the governor of the island of Bourbon received forthwith the command to treat Madame d'Aubert with royal honours.78 The King wrote to Maria Theresa, acquainting her with the fabulous history of her cousin.79 The Empress wrote to Madame d'Aubert, beseeching her to leave her husband and repair to the Austrian Court.80 This the Princess refused to do, and remained on the island till d'Aubert's death, in 1754.81 After the death of both husband and daughter, she returned to Paris, settled the affairs of her husband, and retired to Brussels, where she received an annual pension from the Austrian Empress.82 Charlotte lived a retired life, no one but the now aged waiting-woman who had fled with her having the remotest idea of her high rank and astounding fate.83 Charlotte died in 1770.84

The portraits of the three sisters and the great Maria Theresa hang in Blankenburg Schloss.85

The Grave under the Lindens near Blankenburg.86

"Sie ruhen bei einander kühl, Waldvöglein sangen droben, Grün Laub herunter fiel."87

Many hundred years ago there lived a rich Earl in the Unterharz, who was once seized with a severe illness; he made a vow that if he should recover, he would consecrate his daughter to a convent life.88

He recovered, and the young Countess, in the first bloom of her youth, entered the convent north of and near Blankenburg, where now two large lindens stand close by the bleaching-place.89

The maiden obeyed her father's command with a heavy heart, for a young knight contested with heaven his claim on the bride; and however much the novice knelt before the altar in burning tears and hand-wringing, and besought heavenly aid in renouncing all she had hitherto held dear, still her thoughts would wander beyond the dark convent walls and lonely cell to her lover.90 _Nobis pacem_ only awakened a more bitter pain, and the _Ave_, the _Laudamus_, the _Gloria_, and all the Penitential Psalms only called up his image before her soul.91

Lindor was not less unhappy; in vain he sought to approach his _Braut_, wandered round and round the convent walls, climbed the trees, and watched to catch a glimpse of her, all in vain.92 The Abbess knew of the love of the young novice, and watched her with Argus eyes, not out of holy zeal, for the convent had long been ill-renowned for the impure life of its inmates, but out of hatred to the maiden whose father she had loved, but with an unrequited affection.93 She rejoiced in the deep sorrow of the daughter of the now hated Earl, whose pure, pious, unsoiled character enraged her still more, in striking contrast to her own depravity and corruption.94 One day the sorrowing novice, unhappily, by accident discovered how unworthily the Abbess filled her sacred office, and how great the immorality of the nuns had become, and the Abbess, to render Lina powerless to injure her, resolved to destroy her.95

She called together those nuns who were in her full confidence, represented to them how they had to fear betrayal from the novice Lina, and to defend themselves they must destroy her.96

This would be most easily accomplished by permitting a meeting with her lover after she had assumed the veil, surprise her, accuse her of breaking her vow, and then wall her up alive.97

The reprobates approved of this diabolical plan, and as soon as Lina's novitiate was ended, and she had taken the final vows, they embraced the first opportunity, when Lindor was seen in the convent grounds, by giving Lina permission to walk in the garden.98

It was a sultry Saturday evening, the sun had set, and had left, instead of a golden twilight, only a grey, cloudy veil, which, increased by the mountain mists, spread gradually over the entire heavens, proclaiming a coming thunder-storm.99

Lina, although she had long languished for fresh air, found no relief.100 She glanced toward heaven, but both moon and stars were hidden behind the dark clouds; the flowers hung sadly their drooping heads, as if in sympathy with the maiden doomed to a convent life.101 She sat down much shaken on a seat of turf shaded by two lindens, and the tears streamed from her eyes.102 Suddenly she felt herself embraced.103 A cry of delighted surprise escaped her, for it was Lindor, her beloved.104 All sorrow and pain were forgotten in the bliss of the meeting, and Lindor kissed the tears from her burning cheeks.105

A blissful moment the lovers embraced each other; then came a feeling of duty, of assumed vows before the soul of the bride of heaven like a fiend of darkness.106 She tore herself from his arms.107

"Lindor!108 Lindor!" she moaned, "I am lost to thee; our embrace is sin!109 O God!110 God of Love! have mercy on the sinner!111 Lindor!112 Lindor! have thou also pity!113 Leave me."114

"Leave thee!115 Nevermore!" cried passionately the youth; "now thou art mine for ever.116 Thou shalt flee with me, and no power on earth shall tear thee from me.117 Thou art mine, mine till death!"118

"And my oath," cried Lina--"the oath I have taken?"119

Lindor turned pale. "120 So thou hast already taken the vows, art no longer novice?121 Art irrevocably chained to the convent?" he cried in horror, for even love started back from the gulf that such an oath had made between them, opposing their union. "122 Then I am lost, my life-happiness is annihilated!"123