The Daughter of an Empress

But what was this luxury, what cared she for these treasures the value

of which she was incapable of estimating, and which were indifferent to

her? She who had no conception of wealth or of money?--she, who knew

not that there was poverty in the world, and who, raised in an Eden

separated from the world, had no idea that hunger had ever made its

appearance within it--she knew only the sorrows of the happy, the

deprivations of the rich; she had never had either to struggle against

real misfortune or to experience real want and deprivation.

Now, indeed, a deeper sorrow had entered into her life; she had lost

her beloved paternal friend, Count Paulo; and Carlo, also, had been torn

from her! That was certainly a more profound sorrow, and she had wept

much for both of them,--but yet that was no real misfortune. She had

never yet lost the whole substance of her life; for those two, however

much she might always have loved them, had nevertheless, not entirely

filled out her life; they had been a part of her happiness, but not that

happiness itself.

And she awaited happiness! She awaited it with ecstasy and devotion,

with feverish hope and glowing desire! She knew not and asked not in

what this happiness was to consist, and yet her heart yearned for it;

she called for this unknown and nameless happiness with a throbbing

bosom and tremulously whispering lips!

She was so much alone, she had so much time for dreaming, and

intoxicating herself with fantastic imaginations! She was surrounded by

a fabulous world, and she was the fairy of that world! But out of that

fabulous world she sometimes longed to be, out of the ideal into the

real; she yearned for truth and actuality. Then she would call Joseph

Ribas to her side and bid him relate to her of that unknown lord, his

master.

He told her of his battles and his heroic deeds, of his wonderful acts

of bravery, and the young maiden tremblingly and shudderingly listened

to him. She feared this man, who had shed streams of blood, and whose

enemies with their dying lips had lauded as the greatest of heroes! And

Joseph Ribas smiled when he saw her turn pale and tremble, and he would

speak to her of his generosity and humanity, of his knighthood and

virtue; he related to her how, on one occasion, at the risk of his life

he had protected and saved a persecuted young maiden; how on another

he had taken pity on a helpless old man, and singly had defended him

against a host of bloodthirsty enemies. He also spoke to her of the

sorrow of his master on account of the ingratitude and deceptions he had

experienced, and Natalie's eyes filled with tears as, with reproachful

glances, she asked of Heaven how it could have permitted the virtue of

this noble unknown hero to be so severely tried, and the baseness of

mankind to trouble him.