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At this moment shouts were heard at a distance, and at the same time
the count's footman rushed breathlessly down the corridor. "Your
excellency, the emperor is coming. He has already passed through the
gate, and the people are loudly cheering him. I have run as fast as
I could, in order to inform your excellency."

"I am coming," said the count, advancing rapidly. But, having
proceeded a few steps, he turned again and beckoned the castellan to
his side. "Schluter," he whispered to him, "if you love your life,
do not say a word about what has just happened here. It must remain
a secret."

"A secret!" muttered Schluter to himself, gazing after the count,
who hurried away. "The White Lady will manage the affair in such a
manner that he at least will hear of the secret, and the
bloodthirsty tyrant will not sleep well in the palace of the
Margraves of Brandenburg." He violently closed the door and stepped
out into the large staircase-hall, the doors of which opened upon
the street. Uttering incoherent words of indignation in an
undertone, the castellan pushed open one of the windows and looked
gloomily down on the street. An immense crowd were in front of the
palace; all eyes were turned to the side from which the emperor was
to approach. Breathless with curiosity, the people waited for the
arrival of the hero who had conquered nearly all the world.

"How those fools are gaping!" growled Schluter. "Idle and lazy as
usual; they like to complain and lament, but they never think of
doing anything. If only each one would take up a single stone from
the pavement and throw it as a greeting at the tyrant's iron head,
all this distress and wretchedness would be at an end. But no one
thinks of that, and I should not wonder if those fellows, instead of
cursing him, should enthusiastically cheer him."

The shouts drew nearer at this moment, as the crowd rushed from the
lower part of the street, their acclamations growing constantly more
deafening. French lancers galloped up to keep the people back, and
several carriages, preceded by a plain calash, came in view. A
negro, dressed in a richly-embroidered livery, sat on the box by the
side of the coachman; two plainly-dressed gentlemen occupied the
inside of the carriage.

"That is he!" growled Schluter. "The Evil One brings him hither--he
is his best friend. Yes, that is he, and he looks pale, grave, and
incensed, as though he would like to wither by a single glance the
whole miserable rabble staring at him."

"That is he!" shouted the people. "Long live Napoleon! Long live the
emperor!"

Napoleon gazed coldly arid impassively upon the crowd, whose cheers
came to him as a sound to which he had long been accustomed, and
which was by no means agreeable. It was not worth while for him to
smile on these inhabitants of a small city; a cold, quick nod was a
sufficient acknowledgment. "Long live Napoleon!" shouted the crowd
again, when the emperor, having left the carriage, now turned again
in front of the palace-gate, and gazed long and indifferently upon
the spectators.

The castellan closed his window. "Ah!" he said, "he dares to enter
this palace. The White Lady will bid him welcome, and know how to
hasten the flight of this arrogant tyrant. Napoleon is coming! Do
you hear that, White Lady? Napoleon is coming!" He burst into
laughter, and, opening the door of the corridor, took a position at
the one leading into the Gallery of Palms.

Footsteps resounded on the staircase, and various persons appeared.
Generals, adjutants, and lackeys hurried in and formed on both
sides, as it were, in line of battle. The emperor then entered the
lower end of the corridor; Count Munster walked by his side in the
most respectful and submissive manner. All bowed their heads
reverentially, but the emperor took no notice of them, and slowly
passed the saluting officers and servants.

"I hope you have punctually fulfilled my orders, count?" he asked,
in his sonorous voice. "This is the new palace, is it not?"

"It is, sire. And this man will testify that no one has set foot
into the imperial rooms," said Count Munster, pointing with a smile
to the castellan, who, holding his bunch of keys in his uplifted
arm, stood at the entrance of the Gallery of Palms.

"Who is it?" asked Napoleon, whose eagle eye was fixed upon
Schluter.

"Sire, it is the castellan of this palace, a faithful, reliable man,
who has been on service here for more than thirty years. He has
guarded and locked the rooms, and they open now only to your
majesty's orders."

"Open," ordered the emperor, with a quick wave of his hand. The
castellan obeyed, and Napoleon entered. Count Munster followed, and
the attendants crowded in after them. Advancing quickly into the
middle of the gallery, the emperor stood directly in front of the
arched window in which Count Munster had before seen the strange
apparition.

"The White Lady, then, never appears in this wing of the palace?"
asked Napoleon, abruptly.

"No, sire--never," said Count Munster, solemnly. "On the whole,
sire, no one here believes in the absurd old story, and I am sure no
one knows of the White Lady otherwise than from hearsay."

The emperor nodded, and passed on. "Let us soon have supper; you
will be my guest," he said, turning on the threshold to Count
Munster and dismissing the gentlemen of his suite.

The door closed. He was now a guest at the palace of the ancestors
of the royal family of Prussia, the Margraves of Brandenburg.

CHAPTER III.

NAPOLEON AND THE WHITE LADY.

The emperor had long risen from the supper-table. The imperial suite
had been allowed to withdraw. Alone he sat in a comfortable night-
dress on the high, antiquated easy-chair, in front of the fire-
place, in which, at his express order, notwithstanding the warm
weather, a large fire had been kindled. He liked heat; the sun of
Egypt and the desert had never been too warm for him; in the hottest
summer days in France he frequently felt chilly, and called for a
fire. It seemed as though the inflamed blood in his veins made the
world appear cold to him; he saw the light of the sunbeams, but did
not feel their warmth. He now sat close to the fire, his face bent
over the large map that lay on the table. It was a map of Russia. He
rapidly drew several lines across it, marking positions with the
colored pins, taken from the small boxes beside him. "Yes, this is
my plan," he said to himself, after a long pause. "Three of my corps
must be placed on the Niemen; Davoust, Oudinot, and Ney, will
command them. There, farther to the left, the cavalry reserves,
under Nansouty and Montbrun, will take position. Here the old guard,
under Lefebore; there the young guard, under Mortier and Bessieres,
with the cavalry of the guard. At this point, farther to the south,
the fourth corps, composed of the Italians and Bavarians, will
operate, and the Viceroy of Italy, Eugene, will be its general-in-
chief. Farther down, here at Grodno and Bialys tock, I will place
the Poles, Westphalians, and Saxons; the fifth, seventh, and eighth
corps to be commanded by my brother Jerome. The Prussians will halt
at Tilsit, and form the extreme left wing; Macdonald will be their
leader; and below there, at Drochiczyn Schwartzenberg with his
Austrians will form the extreme right wing. The preparations are
complete, and the thunder-cloud is ready to burst over Russia if
Alexander should persist in his obstinacy. Like the waves of the
tempestuous ocean, my armies are rolling toward the shores of
Russia. They can still be stopped by a suppliant word from
Alexander. If he refuses, let his destiny be fulfilled, and let the
roar of my cannon inform him that his hour has struck, and that the
end of his imperial power draws nigh. It was his own will. He
himself has brought destruction upon his head! He--"

A loud noise above his head, making the walls tremble and the
windows rattle suddenly interrupted the stillness. The emperor rose
from his seat and shouted "Roustan!" The door of the adjoining room
opened and the Mameluke appeared on the threshold.

"What was it?" asked Napoleon hastily.

"Sire, it was as if a wall fell in above us; the noise was as loud
as though a cannon were fired in the palace. I rushed immediately
into the corridor, but every thing there was quiet. Only the
castellan of the palace appeared in the utmost haste in his night-
gown, and asked whether an accident had happened in the rooms of the
emperor."

"Where is the castellan now?"

"Sire, when I told him that the noise was on the upper floor, he
immediately went thither in order to see what had occurred."

"Go and bring him to me," ordered Napoleon; and when Roustan had
withdrawn, the emperor fixed his eyes steadfastly on the door, and
his compressed lips quivered with impatience.

Finally, the door opened again; Roustan appeared, followed by the
castellan, pale and trembling, behind the Mameluke, and clinging
with his hands to the door to support himself.

Napoleon cast upon him one of his quick glances. "What was this
noise, and why do you tremble so violently?"

"Pardon me, your majesty," faltered Schluter, "but my terror--the
surprise--I am afraid I have lost my senses. I have just seen
something so unheard of, so incredible, that I--"

"What have you seen?" asked Napoleon. "Speak! What was this noise?"

The castellan slowly raised his head, and stared with terrified eyes
at the emperor. "Your majesty," he said, solemnly, "the White Lady
made the noise!"

Napoleon started, and his brow grew clouded. "But did they not tell
me that the miserable spectre never haunted this part of the
palace?" he asked. "Did I not issue orders that rooms should be
given me where I should not be disturbed by this apparition?"

"Your majesty, she has hitherto never entered these rooms,"
exclaimed Schluter. "Never before has the White Lady directed her
steps hither, and this afternoon her portrait stood quietly in a
cabinet of the other wing of the palace. I can take an oath that
this is true."

"What portrait do you refer to?" asked Napoleon, impatiently.

"The portrait of the White Lady," said Schluter. "I saw it this very
day in the cabinet on the other side; all the doors were locked, and
now I suddenly find this large painting in the room above you; it
was lying on the floor as if in walking it had stumbled over
something and fallen. It is the first time that the White Lady
appears in this wing of the palace; her portrait has come from the
other side, and Heaven alone knows how it has happened. Whenever we
wished to convey the painting, with its enormous wooden frame, from
one room to another, no less than six men were required to carry it,
and now it is here as though it had flitted through the air: and it
is lying on the floor as if struck down by lightning."

"And you think the fall of the painting produced the noise?"

"I feel convinced of it. If your majesty wishes me to do so, I will
get a few men, go up-stairs to raise the painting, and let it fall
again, that your majesty may judge whether it is the same noise or
not."

"Ah, you do not feel much respect for your walking portrait,"
exclaimed the emperor, smiling. "You want to abuse it, and make
experiments with it. We will suppose that the fall of the painting
was the sole cause of the noise. Now, that it is on the floor, I
believe it will lie still and disturb us no longer, unless it be
that your portrait should fall asleep and snore. What do you know
about that?"

"Your majesty," said Schluter, gravely, "the White Lady never
sleeps!"

The emperor cast a searching glance upon him, and then turned away,
folded his hands, and slowly paced the room. Suddenly he stood in
front of the castellan.

"What about this White Lady?" he asked, hastily. "Who was she, and
what is her history?"

"Ah, sire, it is a long and melancholy history concerning the
ancestors of the Margraves of Brandenburg," said Schluter, sighing.

"You know the history?"

"Yes, your majesty, I know it well."

"Tell it to me, but very briefly," said Napoleon, throwing himself
on the easy-chair in front the fireplace, and ordering Roustan, by a
wave of his hand and the word "Fire!" to add fresh fuel.

"Now, tell me all about it."

"Your majesty," replied Schluter, hesitatingly, "I do not know how
to narrate a story in fine words, and you must pardon me if I do not
acquit myself very satisfactorily."

"Who was this White Lady?"

"Sire, her name was Cunigunda, Countess von Plassenburg. Her parents
had compelled her to marry the old Count von Plassenburg, and when
her husband died, after two years of unhappy wedded life, the
Countess Cunigunda of Orlamunde and Plassenburg was a young widow,
twenty-four years of age, heiress of the splendid Plassenburg, and
mother of two children. She was a gay-spirited lady, and looked
around for another husband. Her eyes fell on the Burgrave of
Nuremberg, the distinguished nobleman Albert the Handsome. The whole
German people called him so; and all the girls, far and near,
daughters of the nobility, as well as those of the citizens of
Nuremberg, loved the fine-looking Burgrave of Nuremberg, who was the
ancestor of the House of Hohenzollern. But the noble Count Albert
loved only one young lady, beautiful Beatrice of Hainault, and would
marry none but her. The Countess Cunigunda of Orlamunde, however,
was not aware of this, and sent him a message, asking him whether he
would not like to marry her. She would give him, besides her hand,
the splendid Plassenburg and all her other property. Burgrave Albert
the Handsome smiled when he heard the message; shrugging his
shoulders, he said: 'Tell your countess I regard her as very
amiable, and should like to marry her, provided four eyes were not
in existence. But as it is, I cannot do so.' The burgrave referred
to the eyes of his parents, who did not like the Countess of
Orlamunde, and he wished to make them responsible for his refusal,
so as not to offend the beautiful widow. But Cunigunda interpreted
the words differently, and thought the four eyes, which the Burgrave
said were in the way of their marriage, were those of her two
children. She loved the handsome Burgrave so intensely, that she
henceforth hated the children, because she believed them to be the
sole obstacles to her marriage. The Evil One and her passion
whispered into her ear, 'Go and kill your children.' So Cunigunda
rose from her couch; in a long white night-dress, her head covered
with a black veil, she crept to the bed of her children, and,
drawing from her raven hair a long golden pin, set with precious
stones (a gift which she had once received at the hands of Burgrave
Albert), she pierced the heads of her children, penetrating the
brain to the vertebra."

"Medea!" ejaculated Napoleon, staring into the fire. "This, then, is
the history of the Medea of the Hohenzollern."

"No, sire, the name of the countess was not Medea, but Cunigunda,"
said Schluter, respectfully.

Napoleon smiled. "Proceed," he said.

"On the following morning there was great wailing at the
Plassenburg, for the two sweet little children lay dead in their
bed; not a vestige of violence was to be seen, and the physician of
the countess decided that a stroke of apoplexy had killed them. The
Countess of Orlamunde sent a mounted messenger to Nuremberg to
Burgrave Albert the Handsome, requesting him to come and see her.
And when the burgrave came she met him in a white bridal dress, and
looked at him with radiant eyes; in her uplifted right hand she had
the golden hair-pin, and said, 'The four eyes are no longer in
existence. For your sake I have stabbed my two children with this
pin, your first love-gift; the four eyes are extinguished forever.
Now, marry me!' But the burgrave recoiled in terror, and pushed back
the murderess, who was about to embrace him. He then dragged her
through the rooms to the dungeon of the castle. She begged and
cried, but the burgrave had no mercy upon the infanticide, and
hurled her down into the dungeon. He then informed the courts of the
crime that had been committed. The Countess von Orlamunde, the last
member of her family, was put on trial, and sentence of death passed
upon her. The burgrave of Nuremberg sent the first executioner from
the city to the Plassenburg, and the countess was beheaded in the
presence of the burgrave, and in the same room in which she had
murdered her children. Before putting her head on the block she
glanced at the handsome burgrave, raised both her arms toward
heaven, and took a fearful oath that she would avenge herself on him
and his house; that, whenever one of his descendants was at the
point of death, she would be present, as the burgrave himself was
now present at her death; that she would never rest in her grave,
but live and walk, though the burgrave had her executed, and that,
as she was before him now at her last hour, she would appear to him
at his last hour. After uttering these words, she put her head
calmly on the block. The burgrave then had her buried at the convent
of Himmelskron, and, by virtue of an old treaty, the Burgraves of
Nuremberg now succeeded to the fiefs of the Counts of Orlamunde,
whose line had become extinct. The Plassenburg, with Baireuth and
Burgundy, and all the possessions of the Counts of Orlamunde,
therefore passed into the hands of Burgrave Albert the Handsome. He
did not enjoy the inheritance a long time, for, a few years
afterward, shortly after he had married the beautiful Countess
Beatrice of Hainault, he died very suddenly. His wife was awakened
by a loud cry he uttered. He then exclaimed, 'Cunigunda, do you come
already to take me away? Woe to me! Woe to me!' All became still;
the countess called for the servants and a light. They rushed into
the room with torches. Burgrave Albert the Handsome lay in his bed
dead. That, your majesty, is the history of the White Lady of
Baireuth."

"This lady, then, followed the Hohenzollern from the Plassenburg to
Baireuth and Berlin?" asked Napoleon. "For she appears sometimes at
Berlin, does she not?"

"At Berlin, and all places where members of the house of
Hohenzollern, the descendants of the Burgraves of Nuremberg, are
about to die."

"Oh, the dear lady, then, appears only to the family of the
Hohenzollern," exclaimed Napoleon, smiling. "Is it not so?"

"No, your majesty, at times she appears also to others," said
Schluter; "she walks about the palace, and if there is any one in
her way whom she dislikes, she tells them so, and angrily orders him
away. She forgets no insult heaped upon her house, and she is
terrible in her wrath."

"I have heard of it," exclaimed the emperor, gloomily. "My generals
complained vehemently of the annoyances they had suffered here in
1806, owing to the movements of this lady. You were here at that
time, were you not?"

"I was, sire, and so I was when General d'Espagne, in 1809,
established his headquarters at this palace."

"Ah, I remember," said Napoleon to himself. "Duroc told me the
horrible story at that time. Tell me what was it that befell General
d'Espagne here?"

"Sire, the general had arrived late at night, and, being weary, had
immediately retired. In the night terrible cries were heard in his
room. The orderlies hastened into it; the general's bed, which, when
he retired for the night stood at the wall, was now in the middle of
the room; it was upset, and, having fainted, he lay under it. He was
placed on a couch, and a doctor sent for, who bled him, and, when he
awoke, gave him sedative powders. The general declared that the
White Lady had appeared to him, and tried to kill him. While
struggling with her, his bed was upset, and, when about to succumb,
he uttered loud cries for assistance. He described all the
particulars of the countenance, form, and dress of the apparition,
and, at his express request, I had to conduct him to her portrait.
As soon as he saw it, he turned pale, and almost sank to the floor,
muttering, 'It is she! She looked exactly like that when she
appeared to me! Her apparition, doubtless, indicated my impending
death!' His officers tried to dissuade him from this belief, but he
adhered to his conviction, and left the palace that very night in
order to establish his headquarters at the 'Fantaisie,' the king's
little villa near the city. On the following morning General
d'Espagne sent a large detachment of soldiers to this palace; they
had to open the floor under the direction of their officers, and
take down the wall-paper, in order to see whether there were any
secret trap-doors or hidden entrances. [Footnote: Vide Minutoli,
"The White Lady," p. 17.] But they found nothing, for the White Lady
needs no theatrical apparatus; she goes where she pleases, and walls
and locked doors open to her. General d'Espagne, however, was unable
to overcome his horror. He left Baireuth on the following day, and
when he rode out of the gate he said, 'I heard my own death-knell
here at Baireuth. I shall soon die!'"

"And he really died shortly after, for he was killed at the battle
of Aspen," [Footnote: Ibid., p.17.] said Napoleon to himself,
staring gloomily into the fire. A pause ensued; suddenly the emperor
rose. "It is all right," he said. "Go! Your story of the White Lady
was quite entertaining. I hope she will keep quiet now. Go!--And
you, too, Roustan! I will afterward call you!" Long after the two
had withdrawn, the emperor walked slowly up and down the room. He
stood at length in front of the fireplace, and stared moodily into
the blazing flames. His face was pale and gloomy. "Foolish stories,
which no man of sense can believe! but which, nevertheless, are
fulfilled now and then," he added, in a lower voice. "Was it not
predicted to Josephine that she would become an empress; and that
not death, but a woman, would hurl her from the throne? The prophecy
was fulfilled! Poor Josephine! I had to desert you, and, at your
lonely palace of Malmaison, you are perhaps praying for me at this
hour, because you know I am about to brave new dangers. Poor
Josephine!--you were my good angel, and, since you are no longer at
my side--no matter!" the emperor interrupted himself; "I will retire
to rest." He advanced several steps toward the door leading into his
bedroom, where Roustan and Constant were waiting for him, but
stopping said, "No, I will first arrange my plans, and fight my
decisive battles with the Emperor Alexander." He returned with rapid
steps to the table covered with maps, and resumed his seat in the
easy-chair. The tapers were burning dimly; the flames in the
fireplace flickered, shedding a dark-red lustre on the marble face
of the emperor, who, bending over the map, sat motionless. Perhaps
it was the heat, or the profound silence, that lulled him to sleep.
His head fell back into the chair, and his eyes closed. The emperor
slept, but his sleep was not calm, and his features, which when
awake were so firm and motionless, were restless, and expressive of
various emotions. Once he exclaimed in a tender voice, "My father!
Do you at last come to me? Oh, welcome, father!" And a joyous
expression overspread the countenance of the sleeper; but it soon
faded away, and he appeared angry, and his lips quivered. "No, no,"
he said, with a faltering tongue, impeded by sleep, "no, father, you
are mistaken! my luck does not resemble the changing seasons; I am
not yet in autumn, when the fruits drop from the trees and winter is
at hand." He paused again, and his face assumed the expression of an
attentive listener. "What!" he then exclaimed in a loud voice, "you
say my family will leave me, and betray me in adversity? No, that is
impossible, I have lavished kindnesses on them, I--" He paused, and
seemed to listen again. "Ah," he exclaimed, after a short interval,
starting violently, "that is too much! All Europe is unable to
overthrow me. My name is more powerful than Fate!"

Awakened, perhaps, by the loud sound of his own voice, he opened his
eyes and looked around uneasily. "Ah," he said, putting his hand on
his moist forehead, "what a terrible dream it was! My father stood
before me, and predicted what would befall me. He prophesied my
ruin! He cautioned me against my relatives, and the ingratitude of
my marshals! [Footnote: "Le Normand." vol. ii, p. 421.] It is the
second time that this is predicted to me, and just as I now saw and
heard my father in my dream, the old sorceress spoke to me by the
pyramids of Egypt." And the emperor, absorbed in his reflections,
muttered in a hollow voice: "'You will have two wives,' said the
Egyptian sorceress to me; 'your first wife you will unjustly desert.
Your second wife will bear you a son, but your misfortunes will
nevertheless begin with her. You will soon cease to be prosperous
and powerful. All your hopes will be disappointed; you will be
forcibly expelled, and cast upon a foreign soil, hemmed in by
mountains and the sky. Beware of your relatives! Your own blood will
revolt against you!' [Footnote: This prophecy is historical. Vide
"Le Normand," vol. ii., p. 487.] Nonsense," exclaimed the emperor,
quickly raising his head; "all this is folly. The palace, with its
weird traditions, has infected me, and I scent ghosts in the air,
and transform my dreams into prophecies. I will retire!"