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ments made for his trial-if trial it could be called."

"And where was young Lars Vonved at that time?"

"Far away. His ship was on a cruise to Iceland and the Danish settlements ou the coast of Greenland. Had he known at the time what had befallen his beloved and revered grandsire, his proud young heart would have burst, or he would have gone mad. The friends of Count Vonved

Russia to restore that ill-gotten prize, she eagerly assented to the proposal of robbing her nearest and weakest neighbor in turn. At this period, King Frederick was negotiating a peace with England, but did not succeed, and Denmark, in July, 1813, resumed her close alliance with France, and declared war anew against Sweden, and also against Russia and Prussia-both of which powers insisted on the surrender of Norway to Sweden. Bernadotte soon mastered Holstein and Slesvig, and Napoleon being already driven to bay within his own frontiers, could not aid his northern ally. The result was, that Denmark was compelled to sign a disastrous peace at Kiel, whereby she gave up Norway to Sweden, merely receiving the paltry province of Swedish Pomerania, and the renunciation of some pecuniary claims, in exchange, for a king-would have been well had Count Vonved dom. Danes and Norwegians alike bitterly bemoaned this humiliating surrender, and the latter even vainly took up arms, under the Prince of Holstein, to resist incorporation with Sweden.

for he yet had some powerful and devoted friends were no less indignant than alarmed at his imprisonment on such a monstrous accusation. They attempted to interpose on his behalf, but the king only became the more irritated and fixed in his purpose, nor did he fail to hint to them that they had better attend to their own safety. He also intimated that it

far exceeded the span prescribed by the inspired Psalmist. But God only knoweth what is best, and what is right and what is wrong, for man does not and never can.”

"What then was the fate of Count Vonved?" asked Amalia, in a tone of sorrowful sympathy and awe.

shared, in 1772, the fate of Count Struensee and Brandt, whom he had so chivalrously defended, as well as Queen Matilda. And perhaps it would," added Captain Vinterdalen, in a strange voice, after a "The very foremost of the Danish no- musing pause; "for although his life bles who protested against the annexation thereafter was one of brilliant renown, of Norway to Sweden was the now very yet had he, too, been legally murdered aged Count Vonved. He headed a pow- even as his queen, and Counts Struensee erful party who insisted that Denmark and Brandt were murdered, he would would be forever dishonored if her king have been spared the inexpressibly madgave up Norway, which had been an in-dening blow which befell him when his age tegral portion of the Danish dominions for four centuries. Their opposition was in vain, and indeed the Danish government could not possibly avoid yielding to the grasping demand of their enemies, and were absolutely compelled to make peace by the sacrifice of Norway. But King Frederick, already dreadfully irritated by the humiliation of his kingdom, and its dismemberment, was stung to the quick by the indignant and daring protest of the Count of Elsinore, which he erroneously attributed as much to personal spite as to patriotism. The fire of his ancient quarrel with the Count, which had never been extinguished, now burst forth into a flame, and was fed by the recollection that Count Vonved had been a determined opponent of the declaration of war with Sweden in 1808. The incensed monarch this time resolved to utterly crush the man whom, all his life, he had both hated and feared. He caused Count Vonved to be suddenly arrested on a charge of high treason, and kept him closely confined as a state-prisoner in Citadellet Frederickshavn, until charges could be prepared, and arrange.

Captain Vinterdalen's features sharply contracted, and a sort of spasm passed over them, whilst his flashing eyes nd dilated nostrils betokened the emotions of his soul. Yet his voice was calm and measured as ever when he replied:

"They impeached him after a long imprisonment-impeached the heroic old soldier, whose honor was as bright and unstained as his sword-impeached the descendant and representative of Denmark's ancient kings-impeached the noble-minded, unselfish patriot, whose first thought had ever been for his country, and his last for himself-impeached Knut Vonved, Count of Elsinore, at the age of eighty-five, on the charge of high treason!"

"And the result?" breathlessly demand ed Amalia.

"The result was, that the creatures of! the court succeeded by desperate and unscrupulous exertions in obtaining his condemnation, although even they felt at their heart's core that a more hellishly unjust verdict never was pronounced. Count Vonved was attainted of high treason, his property, rights, privileges, and heritages, of every description, were declared forfeited, and he was sentenced to die a traitor's death on the scaffold."

"O Himlen! and did King Frederick authorize the execution of that grand old man ?"

"He dared not! There are limits to the vengeance even of a despot. All Denmark thrilled with horror and burning shame and indignation when the sentence on the glorious old Count of Elsinore was promulgated, and the king hastened to mitigate it. He confirmed the attainder and forfeiture, but by an act of royal mercy,' he spared the life he dared not take, and contented himself by a decree of banishment from the kingdom. Ay, at the age of eighty-five, Knut Vonved, accompanied by one old and devoted servitor, was cast forth from the country which his ancestors had ruled for many centuries, and for which his more immediate progenitors, and himself, his sons, and his grandson, had fought and bled, and some of them had died to defend. In his extreme old age he was ignominiously banished, and forbidden to return under penalty of death.”

"The great-hearted, majestic old hero! Could he survive that ?"

"Thou may'st well ask the question, my wife; but he did survive it, and he does survive it." "Does ?" "Ay.”

"What! Do you really say that the Count of Elsinore yet lives ?"

"Lars Vonved is the Count of Elsinore."

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"And where is he ?"

"I do not fear to tell you, my wife. He is in his native country."

"Then he has been pardoned ?" Captain Vinterdalen smiled bitterly. "King Frederick has not granted a pardon, and Knut Vonved never sought pardon, for that would be tantamount to an admission of guilt. He would reject a 'pardon' with unutterable scorn, unless accompanied by an admission of his innocence and a restitution of his rights; and that he would deem a reconciliation, not a pardon. He, long years ago returned from his penal exile, and, at the risk of his life paying forfeit, he has continued to secretly reside in the very capital of his country; for his love of Denmark has only increased with his years and his unmerited wrongs; and he hopes that the last breath he inhales will be native air."

"The risk of betrayal must have been great ?"

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Very few, indeed, know who the centenarian recluse is; and they are men who would die rather than to betray him. I believe, too, that if he were denounced, even King Frederick himself would not wish to re-banish him, nor permit him to be further molested. He who would pursue with legal vengeance a man more than a century old would be execrated by mankind. The king will probably never pardon or forgive Knut Vonved in his heart, for he must feel that he has hideously wronged him; yet Frederick, albeit he has been cruelly vindictive, is not a monster, but a man of kingly quali ties, and capable even of great generosity and magnanimity, as I have heard and believe."

"I am glad, Vinterdalen, that your love for your outlawed friend does not render you unjust towards your sovereign. And now, tell me what befell that friend, for your story of his life approaches a great crisis, I conjecture."

"It does so; the pivot of his career now turned, and in the twinkling of an eye his future life was awfully stamped with the adamantine seal of inexorable destiny."

From Chambers's Journal.

THE AMBASSADOR'S BALL.

AMONG the persons of distinction who! composed the highest society of Paris in 1810, none were more conspicuous than the Austrian ambassador, Prince Carl von Schwartzenberg, and his family. The Prince himself, a handsome, stately man, dignified, yet popular and easy in his bearing, distinguished both in the councilchamber and in the field, was a really imposing representative of his imperial master. Not less remarkable was his charming princess; a rare intelligence, grace, fascination, and sincere amiability all combined to fit her for her brilliant position. The prince and princess held at their magnificent Hôtel de Légation, Rue de Mont Blanc, a court-in all but its name and tedious ceremonials. Here French and Germans met on common ground, unfettered by the uneasiness, restraint, and smothered suspicion which darkened the atmosphere of St. Cloud. Here, on the contrary, there seemed to be good will and friendliness for all-a moral sunshine in which even strangers gladly came to bask. To those who were admitted to any degree of intimacy with the family, the source of this pervading light and warmth remained no secret. Beneath the splendors of the Hôtel de Légation there flourished all the simple virtues of household affections. Husband and wife loved each other tenderly, as it was not the fashion for French husbands and wives to love in those days; a charming family was growing up about them; they had a circle of valued household friends. Prince Joseph von Schwartzenberg, the ambassador's elder brother, had also taken up his residence in Paris. The brothers were deeply attached to each other; their children had the same masters, and lived like brothers and sisters together; each family shared and hightened the other's pleasures. No wonder that, amidst the false glitter of the Empire, this homehappiness-quiet, pure, and true-should have exercised a subtle charm on those who came within its influence.

Of all the festivities which had taken place in honor of the nuptials of Marie Louise, that of the Hôtel de Légation was to be the crown. It was not considered simply as a ball given by the ambassador; it was the fete of Austria herself in honor of a daughter of the House of Hapsburg. Every Austrian in Paris felt himself personally compromised in the success of this entertainment, which was to be on a scale of far greater magnificence than any which had preceded it. If Austria had been forced to lay down her arms on the field of Wagram, here at least France should confess herself vanquished. The fête was to take place on the first of July, and for weeks beforehand, an army of workmen were employed in the necessary preparations. As the time drew near, they worked in relays, day and night. Indeed, those whose turn fell in the night were more fortunate than their brethren, for the heat by day was intense; the paint blistered the wood-work, the stoneblocks glowed under that burning sun. Scarcely a drop of rain had fallen for weeks; the foliage withered in every direction, as if under the breath of a simoon; the turf and boughs required for decoration had to be kept fresh by artificial means. The hotel itself, it was thought, would not be large enough for the occasion, so the mansion next door to it was hired, and the two buildings thrown into one. But the grand ball-room, a palace in itself for size and magnificence, was erected of solid wood-work in the garden. Its roof and walls, covered on the outside with waxed cloth, were decorated in the interior with tapestry, and all the resources of upholstery and taste expended in the arrangement of mirrors, candelabra, colored lamps, and every kind of dazzling ornament. The roof, which was dome-shaped, was supported by wooden pillars covered with white satin damask, striped in gold and silver, and festooned with muslin, gauze and other light fabrics, bound by wreaths of artificial

flowers. Massive glass-lustres swung on gold and silver chains from the roof, and were combined in one graceful and har monious whole with the other decorations, by means of floating draperies, flowers, and ribbons. At one end of this pavilion rose a daïs, carpeted with cloth of gold, on which two throne-chairs were placed for the Emperor and his bride; at the opposite end, was a gallery for the orchestra. There were three entrances to the ball-room besides that for the musicians at the back of the orchestra-one behind the daïs, communicating with the mansion; another into a wide long gallery, temporary like the ball-room, and decorated to match it; this gallery ran parallel with the hotel, and had several doors communicating with it and with the gardens. But the principal entrance to the ball-room was a magnificent portal, from which a flight of broad steps led down into the gardens, where every arrangement had been made to facilitate the ingress and egress of the crowd of guests. Over the portal shone in illuminated let ters the following inscription, in German, which some friend of Prince Schwartzenberg, inspired evidently by the muse who presides over mottoes for crackers and bonbons, improvised for the occasion:

"With gentle Beauty's charm is glorious Valor

bound!

All hail! the golden age again on earth is

found!"

So rose the light graceful structure, as by the wand of some architectural Ariel; it looked, with its gold-worked tapestries, the bridal whiteness of the diaphonous draperies, the lustre and color afforded by silver, gold, flowers, mirrors, chandeliers, and costly ornaments of every description, as if it had been transplanted out of the Thousand and One Nights. There was only one calamity to be dreaded: that long, low bank of cloud, in which the sun had set on the last of June, looked ominous enough; what if the rain should pour down in torrents next day, as fète-givers and fète-goers know too well it seems to take a malicious pleasure in doing on such occasions? What would become of the ball-room and all its magnificence then? Fortunately, the first of July set all fear of such a provoking contre-temps at rest; the sun blazed out of a sky without a cloud. Every preparation was happily complete, and

with the comfortable certainty that not the smallest detail had been overlooked which would add distinction to so grand a festivity, the ambassador, his family and friends betook themselves to the lighter cares of the toilet, not without congratulations among the younger Austrian officers on the superior brilliancy of their national uniform over that of their French rivals.

It was still broad daylight when the Hôtel de Légation was illuminated, and already in quick, and still quicker succession, the carriages of the guests rolled between the crowd which lined the streets. A grenadier detachment of the Imperial guard had betimes occupied the posts assigned them. The Austrian nobility were in readiness to receive the arrivals, and every lady was presented with a beautiful bouquet before being conducted to the ball-room, now rapidly filling. The rank and dignity of the guests increased with every minute; kings and queens had already been announced, and now there was a pause of expectancy. At length the word of command to the troops, then the roll of drums, the crash of military music announced the approach of the imperial state carriage. The two families of Schwartzenberg and Metternich received the Emperor and Marie Louise. After a short congratulatory address from had accepted a bouquet from the princely the ambassador, and when the Empress ladies, her husband taking her hand, conducted her to the ball-room. Many persons who had a near view of Napoleon for the first time, remarked the regular beauty of his features, but all were struck with the fixed, iron character of his face. His deportment was stern and unbending, almost that of a man in some fit of illhumored sullenness. Not a gleam of kindliness in the eye-its glance darting straight forward like that of an eagle on its prey; not even a forced smile played upon those inflexible lips, which seemed as if they could only open to utter some terrible command. Napoleon declined the refreshments offered, and promenaded with the Empress through the receptionrooms, galleries, and ball-room in an abstracted manner, negligently addressing a few words here and there, and casting quick sharp glances over the brilliant throng. They shrank almost visibly from his gaze. That stern dark presence spread an indefinable gloom over this grand fes

tival; it was much like the appearance of some schoolmaster, infinitely more feared than loved, among a troop of children enjoying themselves at a puppet show.

then with another. The Princess Schwartzenberg presented her young daughters to him, and received his compliments on the magnificence of the arrangements. This feeling weighed upon the guests The princess felt while she listened to as they silently followed the imperial them that all anxieties and fears with recouple through the illuminated gardens. gard to the entertainment might now What was lacking in mirth, however, fairly be laid aside; never could ballmusic did her best to supply, for bands, room present a more brilliant spectacle, both instrumental and vocal, were station- never could fête promise a grander suc ed at different spots, who burst into cess. The hearts of both host and hostchoral songs and symphonies, at the ap- ess grew light as they saw Napoleon in proach of the Emperor. The Austrians the best possible humor, evidently bent had prepared a flattering surprise for upon being polite after his fashion. It Marie Louise. Seats placed upon a lawn was now past midnight; the revelry was invited Napoleon and herself to rest; and at its hight; the whirl of the dance had here an exact model of the familiar castle completely broken the gene of the great of Saxonberg, brilliantly illuminated, pre- conqueror's presence. Dukes and duchsented itself to her eyes; while there esses, princes and princesses, kings and emerged from the shrubberies a troop of queens, were all enjoying themselves like opera-dancers in the costume of Austrian ordinary mortals. There were silvery peasants, who went through the national laughter, sweet low voices, and glances dances of her country. Then followed a still more sweet and eloquent; plenty of pantomimic war and peace, where Mars whispering and flirtation going on under displayed nothing more formidable than cover of the music, especially in the less the honors of victory, and Peace came thronged galleries among the younger attended by every image of happiness portion of the assembly. Tiaraed ladies, and prosperity. This was hardly over when and bestarred and beribboned gentlemen, a great flourish of trumpets announc-verging upon fifty, but successfully got up ed the arrival of a courier, who booted, to seem twenty years younger, were lookspurred, and covered with dust, presented ing forward with gentle anticipation to his dispatches to the Emperor. A murmur of some conquest, in Spain ran through the assembly, but Napoleon, who was in the secret, proclaimed the correspondence to be from Vienna, and presented the Empress with a bond-fide letter from her father, written purposely to grace this occasion. After a display of fireworks, the company returned to the grand ballroom, and the Emperor having paused at the portal to spell out the meaning of the German Alexandrines, took his place with his bride on the daïs, and the orchestra struck up.

The ball was opened by the Queen of Naples with Prince Esterhazy, and Eugene, Viceroy of Italy, with the Princess Schwartzenberg. While the dancing was going on, the imperial couple promenaded the room in opposite directions, conversed slightly with different persons, and gave an opportunity for the presentation of strangers, and those younger members of French and Austrian nobility who made their debut into society at this grand fête. Marie Louise soon resumed her seat, but Napoleon remained at the other end of the pavilion, conversing first with one, VOL. XLIX.-NO. 4

the supper, lying in state of gold and silver in a suite of banqueting - rooms. Some of the guests were proud of their jewels, their wit, or their grace; some women were proud of their own beauty, others of the beauty of their daughters, but not an Austrian present was there who was not proud of the ball; and well they might be. Under those snowy draperies, the light fell full and brilliant on such an assembly as Paris has hardly gathered since; jewels flashed, plumes waved, decorations glittered, to be multiplied infinitely in countless mirrors-the magnificent pavilion showed like one vast restless sea of splendor. Vague forebodings are rife in the minds of men, but why should they enter here? what room here for a thought of broken faith-a sigh for the cast-off wife at Malmaison-why should a dark fancy see in the cold shrinking girl on the dais an image of Iphigenia at the altar? Away with all ill-timed fancies! The orchestra strikes up a waltz; gayer, louder is the music; quicker, and still more quick the measure of the dance.

There is a slight stir at that end of the

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