take in
father, mother, and sisters."
"And my most faithful and best-beloved servant, the Stadtholder in the
Mark!" cried the Elector. "Come, Adam, place yourself close beside me,
that the picture may be complete, and my son may see us all at once."
Boundless public rejoicings seemed to be in progress below; a loud,
long-sustained, ever-renewed cheering rolled over the square like the roar
of the sea.
"My son, my beloved son!" cried the Electress, leaning far out of the
window and stretching out both arms toward the young man, who had just
emerged from the shrubbery, on horseback and followed by a brilliant train.
"Brother, dear brother!" called out the two Princesses, leaning out of the
other side of the window, and waving their handkerchiefs in token of
welcome. Behind them sat the Elector in his great armchair, quite
forgotten and quite hidden from view by his wife and daughters, not at all
visible to either the people or his son.
"I shall remember this hour, oh! to be sure, I shall remember it," he
said, with trembling lips; "my son shall atone to me for this hour of
shame and mortification. I--"
The huzzaing and shouting below drowned his words; they came pouring in at
the open window like the pealing tones of an organ, like the roar of the
sea, like claps of thunder.
The Elector could no longer bear it. He looked up with glances of entreaty
at the count, who, drawn up to his full height, stood proud and commanding
at the side of his chair, his sharp eyes piercing down into the court over
the ladies' heads.
"Ah, Adam," sighed George William, "you, too, have forgotten me, and are
only looking upon him who is coming!"
But, however softly these words had been spoken, the count heard them, and
tenderly he leaned over the Elector, and seized his hand to kiss it.
"I am looking at the newcomer," he whispered, "but I never forget you, and
my heart can never be unmindful of the love and fidelity it owes you."
"Hurrah! Long live the Electoral Prince!" was borne up in tumultuous
uproar from the pleasure garden. "Long live the Electoral Prince! Long
live the Elector! Hurrah for the Elector George William!"
"They are calling for you, my husband, they call for you!" said the
Electress. "Will you not show yourself to our dear people?"
"I ought, indeed, to be thankful to the dear people," returned her
husband. "The dear people have at least reminded the Electress that I
still exist, although she had cro
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