disposed of at once.
Gunther came.
The king, at first, cautiously sounded him, in order to discover whether this confidant of the queen's knew aught of what had happened, and then, under the seal of secrecy, informed him of all.
To the king's great surprise, Gunther, instead of thanking him for this mark of confidence, politely said:
"I should much prefer that Your Majesty had graciously permitted me to remain ignorant of secrets and troubles in which I can be of no assistance."
The king stared at him in astonishment. This man was always obstinate and preserved his dignity.
"I was about to ask you," said the king, harshly, "whether you believe that you can influence the queen in this matter."
"I fear not; but if Your Majesty desires it, I am ready to make the effort."
"Pray do."
"But I fear her majesty will be offended. I understand her idiosyncrasies. If the matter is noised about, she will think it profaned by the touch of others, and it will thus, in her opinion, lose its greatest charm."
"That would be the very thing," said the king, eagerly. "Perhaps that will be the best way to cure her of her enthusiasm. Everything is considered a fit subject for debate, nowadays. Your friends in the chamber of delegates debate everything, and they might as well-"
It was a constant source of annoyance to the king, that the doctor, who never obtruded his opinions, would, when drawn into an argument on questions of religion or politics, always espouse the liberal side; but, with all that, he could ill afford to do without Gunther. Although the king found him objectionable in some respects, he nevertheless had a high regard for him. He held so high a position in the world of science and in the esteem of his countrymen, that the presence, near the king, of one possessed of such liberal views, reflected peculiar glory on the court itself.
The king now formally requested Gunther to endeavor to move the queen from her resolve.
It was a difficult undertaking.
The queen had, heretofore, made this trusted friend her confidant, and now he was possessed of a secret of hers that had been given him by another. Gunther endeavored to draw the queen into some allusion to her secret resolve, but, failing in the attempt, was obliged to introduce the subject himself.
The queen seemed surprised and grieved.
"Why has the king done this?" asked she, her features expressing intense pain.
"Perhaps his majesty," replied Gunther, "credits me with the possession of more powerful arguments that any which have yet been advanced."
"I know them, all," answered the queen, excitedly; "in such a matter, no stranger should dare to breathe a word of-"
"Then, Your Majesty, I've nothing more to say, and humbly beg leave to withdraw."
"No, no! Speak on-I must hear you."
"Must? You must not."
"Wish, or must, it's all the same. You're always saying that there's no such thing as free will, and with monarchs it is certainly so."
"Your Majesty," said Gunther, in a gentle voice, "the high resolve you have formed was not an act of your will. It is the natural and inevitable consequence of a chain of events and impressions, which have been shaped by your temperament. Fervent natures are always afraid lest they cannot do enough for themselves and for the world. They would like, with every hour-nay, with every breath-to make others happy, or impress the world with some great thought."
"So you, too, can flatter."
"I never flatter. I simply take the diagnosis which, in your case, is not flattering. This excess of sensibility is not health-"
"So you consider my mood as unhealthy-"
"We should not use that term. – But I entreat you. Your Majesty! this tone, with either of us, is hardly-"
"Speak on. I like to hear you. I don't feel hurt that you know of this. I regard you as part of the daylight that was to ripen my resolve."
"Well then, all that is to ripen must needs be subjected to currents of air and even to storms. But I shall bring you no storm, and shall not even speak of the fact that whoever deserts the faith into which he was born, insults his parents; nor shall I tell you that the ceremonies to which we have been accustomed from youth, are the soul's mother-tongue. All that does not address itself to the mind. Mind and reason are the parents of conscious man. It is our duty to live up to our convictions, and I can, therefore, find no fault with a change of religion based upon conviction. But it seems to me, Your Majesty, that your change of faith is simply superficial or, if it be deeper, only from love for your husband. You know, however, that I view all these things from an entirely different standpoint. I believe I know the spring in paradise, whence flows the stream that on earth is divided into so many little rivulets; and these again, to use the words of my friend Eberhard, Countess Irma's father, furnish the power for the mills that grind out sermons. Your Majesty knows that the legend of the four streams that flowed from the tree Igdrasil, which is found in the most beautiful of all books, the Bible, is also to be found in our old German Saga."
"Very well-but I beg of you, my dear friend, spare me your literary curiosities."
"Your Majesty," resumed Gunther, "as long as we remain in the faith of our fathers, we can enjoy great latitude of opinion. Our thoughts can reach far beyond its confines, and no inquisition has power over us: but, as soon as we profess another religion, we forfeit the right to be free. It is our duty to live up to it. One who is noble by birth can afford to admit civil equality, but he who has had nobility conferred on him, cannot do so. Will Your Majesty permit me to say one word more? I regard it as fortunate for mankind in general, and our German fatherland in particular, that there is a diversity of religious beliefs. That of itself tends to preserve feelings of humanity, for thus we cannot help seeing that there are different forms of soul utterances for one and the same thing. A multiplicity of sects affords the best protection against fanaticism and, moreover, helps to prove that religious forms are of no consequence; that is, one can be righteous in any faith and, indeed, without any outward show of religion."
Gunther remained with the queen for a long while, offering further explanations of the ideas he had advanced.
He was still with her, when the canon was announced.
The queen sent word that she desired to be excused, and requested him to come the next day.
When Gunther left, she was still as firm in her resolve as at first. She felt persuaded that this was an action in which no other being should interfere, and, least of all, a man.
She was on the point of taking Irma into her confidence. She felt that the countess was clever and, moreover, a true friend. Unconquerable dread held her back. She feared lest she might appear weak and vacillating in Irma's eyes.
CHAPTER V
For days, the queen remained alone. Walpurga and the child were the only ones permitted near her. She did not wish to speak to any one else, be it her husband, Gunther, or the priest.
One afternoon, when Walpurga was with her, she felt impelled to ask:
"Walpurga, do you know that I don't belong to your faith?"
"Yes, indeed, I do; and I'm glad of it."
"Glad of it?"
"Of course I am; you're the first and only Lutheran I've ever known, and if they're all like you, it must be a beautiful religion."
"It is beautiful, and so are all religions that make good beings of us."
"Why, do you know, queen, that's the very thing my father used to say, and in the very same words? Oh, if he'd only lived long enough to have had a talk with you."
The queen was silent for a long while.
At last she asked:
"Walpurga, if your religion was different from Hansei's, would you go to his church?"
"Why, Hansei's Catholic, as well as I am."
"But if it