ried to obtain her favors; but she remained
cold and reserved, until the General commanding the district, who was a
handsome man of noble bearing, and a gentleman in the highest sense of
the word, approached her.

Whether she was flattered at seeing that powerful man, before whom
millions trembled, and who had to decide over the life and death, the
honor and happiness of so many thousands, fettered by her soft curls, or
whether her enigmatical heart for once really felt what true love was,
suffice it to say, that in a short time she was his acknowledged
mistress, and her princely lover surrounded her with the luxury of an
Eastern queen.

But just then a miracle occurred--the resurrection of a dead man. Frau
von Kubinyi was driving through the _Corso_ in the General's carriage;
she was lying back negligently in the soft cushions, and looking
carelessly at the crowd on the pavement. Then, she caught sight of a
common Austrian soldier and screamed out aloud.

Nobody heard that cry, which came from the depths or a woman's heart,
nobody saw how pale and how excited that woman was, who usually seemed
made of marble, not even the soldier who was the cause of it. He was a
Hungarian poet, who, like so many other _Honveds_[5], now wore the
uniform of an Austrian soldier.

[Footnote 5: A Hungarian word, meaning literally, Defender of the
Fatherland. The term _Honved_ is applied to the Hungarian _Landnehr_, or
Militia.--Translator.]

Two days later, to his no small surprise he was told to go to the
General in command, as orderly, and when he reported himself to the
adjutant, he told him to go to Frau von Kubinyi's, and to await her
orders.

Our poet only knew her by report, but he hated and despised the
beautiful woman, who had sold herself to the enemy of the country, most
intensely; he had no choice, however, but to obey.

When he arrived at her house, he seemed to be expected, for the porter
knew his name, took him into his lodge, and without any further
explanation, told him immediately to put on the livery of his mistress,
which was lying there ready for him. He ground his teeth, but resigned
himself without a word to his wretched, though laughable fate; it was
quite clear that the actress had some purpose in making the poet wear
her livery. He tried to remember whether he could formerly have offended
her by his notices as a theatrical critic, but before he could arrive at
any conclusion, he was told to go and show hi