The page bowed in silence, and Count Schwarzenberg paid no further attention to him, but followed the Electoral pair, who were making the circuit of the hall, here and there addressing a friendly word to some member of the nobility, sweeping past before an answer could be stammered forth.  The circuit was completed; a thrice repeated nourish of trumpets resounded; the Chamberlain von Lehndorf rushed to the window, and with a white handkerchief made a signal down to the pleasure garden.  Cannon thundered forth salutes, informing the town that the Elector had just sat down to table, that the feast at the house of the Stadtholder in the Mark had begun.

A choice, a sumptuous banquet!  Delicious viands, splendid wines!  Gradually they forgot a little the requirements of rigid etiquette and pompous silence; gradually tongues were loosened, and there was talking and laughing; even the Elector lost his hard, peevish nature, his face glowed with a brighter hue, his form became more elastic, and cheerful words sounded from his lips.

A choice, a sumptuous banquet!  The Electress laughed, and had totally forgotten that Count Adam Schwarzenberg, sitting at her side, was her detested enemy.  She chatted as cozily and earnestly with him as if he were one of her most devoted friends and servants.  Opposite her sat her two daughters, and Princess Charlotte Louise inclined with a pleasant smile toward Count John Adolphus, who sat beside her, and had just been painting to her with glowing eloquence the glories of the imperial city, gorgeous Vienna.

Now his bold glance darted across at the Electoral pair; they were busy talking and eating; nobody was noticing him.

“Princess, dear, adored Princess, do you hear me when I speak so softly?”

“I hear you, Sir Count.”

“Sir Count!” repeated he, sighing.  “You retract your word, then?  You thrust me again into the ranks of your court cavaliers and counts?  You have no longer a word of welcome for the poor, pitiable man who worships you, who is blessed if he can only look at you, only hear the tones of your sweet voice, and who has been longing for this with desire and painful rapture for three long months?  Not one word of welcome for me?”

“I welcome you—­welcome you with my whole heart!  Have you only been away three months?  Were they not three years?”

“Seems it so to you, my adored mistress?  I believe it was three hundred years—­three eternities.  And yet these eternities have not altered your angelic face.  It is still ever radiant in its heavenly, rosy beauty, and not a feature betrays that you have suffered on my account, that you have longed for me.”

“Then my face belies me, for I have longed for you; therefore the months lengthened into years, and it seems to me as if I have become a very old, sedate person since I last saw you.”

“Oh, dearest, how I long for one moment of solitary communing with you, when I can kneel at your feet, cover your hands with kisses, and tell you how inexpressibly I love you!  Be not cruel, Louise, in this hour of reunion.  Tell me that you, too, long for such a moment—­that you will grant it to me.”