“If the Austrian troops have made us a visit, politeness requires that we should return the call,” said Ziethen, with a dry laugh.

“If the Queen of Hungary has sent a manifesto to Silesia, we must, above all other things, answer this manifesto,” said the councillor of state.

“Maria Theresa is so bold and insolent because Bellona is a woman, consequently her sister; but we will prove to her that Dame Bellona will rather ally herself with gallant men than with sentimental women,” said General Rothenberg.

“Now, messieurs, what say you? shall we have peace or war?”

“War, war!” cried they all in one breath, and with one movement.

The king raised himself from his chair, and his eagle eye was dazzling.

“The decisive word is spoken,” said he, solemnly.  “Let it be as you say!  We will have war!  Prepare yourselves, then, generals, to return the visit of Austria.  Ziethen tells us that this is a courtly duty.  Our councillor will write the answer to Maria Theresa’s manifesto.  The Austrians have visited us in Glatz, we will return their call in Prague.  Kothenberg thinks that Dame Bellona would incline to our arms rather than to those of the queen, so we will seek to win her by tender embraces.  I think the goddess would favor our Prince of Anhalt, they have often fought side by side.  Up, then, prince, to battle and to love’s sweet courtesies with your old Mistress Bellona!  Up, my friends, one and all! the days of peace are over.  We will have war, and may God grant His blessing to our just cause!”

CHAPTER X.

The cloister of Camens.

It was a still, lovely morning.  The sun gilded the lofty, giant mountain and irradiated its snow-crowned top with shifting and many-colored light; it appeared like a giant lily, luminous and odorous.  The air was so clear and pure, that even in the far distance this range of mountains looked grand and sublime.  The spectator was deluded by the hope of reaching their green and smiling summits in a few moments.  In their majestic and sunny beauty they seemed to beckon and to lure you on.  Even those who had been for a long time accustomed to this enchanting region would have been impressed to-day with its exalted beauty.  Grand old Nature is a woman, and has her feminine peculiarities; she rejoices in her beaux jours, even as other women.

The landscape spread out at the feet of those two monks now walking in silent contemplation on the platform before the Cloister of Camens, had truly to-day her beau jour, and sparkled and glittered in undisturbed repose.

“How beautiful is the world!” said one, folding his hands piously, and gazing up into the valley; “created by wisdom and love, adapted to our necessities and enjoyments, to a life well-pleasing to God.  Look now, brother, at the imposing majesty of that mountain, and at the lovely, smiling valley which lies at its feet.  There, in the little village of Camens, this busy world is in motion, and from the city of Frankenstein I distinguish the sound of the bells calling to early morning prayer.”