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"And I told you to let it stand there, and not try again to hang it up. The large painting is too heavy." "If the large painting wanted to hang on the wall it would allow the smallest nail to hold it," said Schluter, shaking his head. "But the White Lady wishes to stand on her own feet, and no human power is able to prevent her."
The carriages disappeared at a bend in the road behind the green willows, and the count turned to Castellan Schluter, who was standing behind him. "But tell me, for Heaven's sake, Schluter," exclaimed the count, "what did the emperor refer to? What happened to him last night?"
He was the George M. Cohan of his time; and I think he also played the clarinet, being a German. We traversed miles of these Schluter masterpieces. Eventually we heard sounds of martial music without, and we went to a window overlooking a paved courtyard; and from that point we presently beheld a fine sight.
I proposed at last that I would have the portrait brought to him, that he might himself look at it; but, when I did so, he cast a furious glance on me, and said in an angry voice, 'No, no, I do not want to see it! In fact, he turned quite pale!" And Schluter burst into loud and scornful laughter.
The air wafted her over to the enemy of her house, and, by the thunder of her wrath, she awakened him from his slumber." "And that was the reason why the emperor sent for you last night?" "Yes, I had the honor of narrating to him the history of the White Lady," said Schluter, laughing scornfully. "I did so, and told him also what happened here to General d'Espagne."
"I do not wish to accept any presents at the tyrant's hands," growled the castellan, with a gloomy face; "I do not want to stain my hands with the plunder which he brings from foreign lands, and which is accompanied with a curse rather than a blessing." "You are a fool, my dear Schluter," exclaimed the count, laughing.
I repeat it to your excellency, she is walking, and her eyes are filled with wrath, and there is a curse on her lips against the enemy of the Hohenzollerns. I would not be surprised if she should shout to-night into the ears of the tyrant, and, by her words, awaken him from his slumber." "Gracious Heaven, Schluter, do not talk so audaciously!" exclaimed the count, anxiously.
Led by a guide we walked through acres of state drawing rooms and state dining rooms and state reception rooms and state picture rooms; and we were told that most of them or, at least, many of them were the handiwork of the late Andreas Schluter. The deceased Schluter was an architect, a painter, a sculptor, a woodcarver, a decorator, all rolled into one.
We will suppose that the fall of the painting was the sole cause of the noise. Now, that it is on the floor, I believe it will lie still and disturb us no longer, unless it be that your portrait should fall asleep and snore. What do you know about that?" "Your majesty," said Schluter, gravely, "the White Lady never sleeps!"
"Schluter, I repeat to you, you are a dreamer," exclaimed the count, impatiently. "Let us speak no more of the apparition. It makes one feel quite curious. Tell me now whether you have really removed the portrait far enough that it cannot be seen by the emperor?" "When I was an hour ago at the cabinet adjoining the audience-hall, the portrait was still there.
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