"
"But before the world we call ourselves differently now; I am
Charles Petersen, and you--what is your name now, Leonora?"
"My name is Charles Renz," said Leonora, smiling. "That was the name
of my dear teacher, to whom I am indebted for what little knowledge
I have acquired, and who originally induced me to take the step I
have ventured upon. He had been a soldier a long time, and loved his
country and the royal family. History was his favorite study, and he
told me of the heroic deeds of ancient nations in their struggles
for liberty. His eyes beamed with transcendent ardor, and the words
flowed from his lips like a stream of poetry. He taught me that,
when the country was in danger, it was the duty of the women to take
up arms in its defence, and that there was no more beautiful death
than that on the field of honor. Joan of Orleans and the Maid of
Saragossa were his favorite heroines, and he always called Queen
Louisa the martyr of German liberty. When she died, three years ago,
the first idea that struck me was, how my old teacher would bear up
under this grief, and that it was incumbent upon me to comfort him.
I hastened to him, and found him sad and disheartened. 'Now my hopes
for Germany are gone,' he said, 'for the genius of German liberty
has left us and fled to heaven. Beautiful and noble Queen Louisa
might, perhaps, have still inspired the Germans to rise in arms
against the tyrant; but she is dead, and liberty has died with her.
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