CHAPTER VIKING AND REGICIDE
Noneof us know beforehand how we shall act in moments of stress and fear. Bernal, when he saw embodied before him the danger to which he had looked forward, lost his self-control, and turned round to the King with a nervous movement, as if he would catch hold of him to restrain him from hasty action. But Maximilian, after the first natural start of astonishment, stood perfectly still, his eyes fixed steadily on this man who had suddenly come forward to threaten his life, gazing at him with more of curiosity than dread.
The intruder stepped a pace nearer, keeping his weapon pointed at the King, while his finger rested against the trigger. Nevertheless, he did not at once fire. To kill in cold blood is hard. And the republican, on his part, was not free from some natural feeling of curiosity as he looked for the first time on this scion of a race against which he had sworn vows of hatred.
“Have you anything to say before I fire?” he asked, unconsciously seeking to gain time to strengthen his resolve.
Maximilian drew himself up with a proud gesture. The softer side of his character seemed to have suddenly died out. In the presence of this enemy he was every inch a king.
“Why have you come here?” he demanded, as haughtily as if he had been surrounded by his guards, and the man before him had been a defenceless prisoner. “What is it that you want?”
“You see plainly enough. I am here to kill you.”
Bernal could not restrain a stifled cry. Maximilian lifted his hand rebukingly to enjoin silence, without removing his eyes from the enemy’s face.
“Why do you wish to take my life?” he asked, in a firm voice.
Johann had to pause and collect his thoughts before he could answer. He felt ever so slightly disconcerted. The situation was altogether unlike what he had anticipated. He had come there breathing wrath against one whom he pictured as a Heliogabalus, dissolved in vice and luxury, and he had steeled himself beforehand against threats or bribes or prayers for mercy; and now, here he was face to face with a pale, thoughtful-eyed young man, whose principal feeling seemed to be wonder, tempered with indignation, at his presence.
“Because you are a king,” he said at length, speaking slowly, and trying to rouse his dormant anger as he went along. “You hold the supreme power in the country. For ten years you have reigned over Franconia; and how have you used your power? For the gratification of your own selfish pleasures. While thepoor starve in your capital, you waste millions in luxury. You build new palaces; you lavish favours on artists and musicians”—he glanced involuntarily at Bernal as he spoke—“your whole time is given up to enjoyment, and you have never given a moment’s thought to the welfare of the millions whom you call your subjects. You value operas more than the lives of men.”
He stopped, feeling slightly dissatisfied with the weakness of his language. He would have liked to crush this calm, self-possessed questioner with a few scathing words—but somehow the words had refused to come.
During this harangue a slightly contemptuous look came on Maximilian’s face. He answered with spirit.
“I do not believe that any one need starve in Franconia. You are speaking unfairly. If I spend money in the ways you talk of, does it not all come back into the pockets of the people? I never heard that it was considered a crime to encourage art, or that a king was forbidden to have his private friends. And when you accuse me of not valuing the lives of men, you forget that during my reign Franconia has been kept from war. None of my subjects have been made to shed one drop of blood for me. I have never even signed a death-warrant.”
“What does that matter? I am not speaking of foreign war. The deadliest war is that which goes on from day to day between rich and poor; and that war you have never lifted a finger to check. The millionsyou have wasted on palaces—which are of no use to any one but yourself—might have been used for great public works for the benefit of mankind—hospitals, almshouses, bridges, aqueducts to bring the pure water of the hills into the Mannhausen slums. A king has higher duties than encouraging art. It is his duty to be the shepherd of the nation he rules.”
Maximilian listened, this time with an air of interest. He replied in milder and more friendly tones than he had yet used.
“I think I understand you. I see that there is something in what you say. I have been too much in the habit of thinking that the best king was the one who interfered with his subjects least. You will admit, at all events, that I have never tried to play the tyrant. But I see that I might have done something more—such things as you point out. Yet the people have a constitution. Why have their elected representatives not undertaken some of these works?”
Johann found it more and more difficult to reply harshly to this gentle reasoning on the part of the man whom he had come to take vengeance upon. He tried to convince himself that this was mere acting—a mere ruse to gain time, and he spoke again more rudely than before.
“That is right; lay the blame on others. Where is the money for such things to come from, when every penny that can be wrung out of the people is being squandered by you? Besides, these representatives, as you call them, represent only the richer classes.They are as much out of touch with the poor, they have as little sympathy with them, as you. Their turn will come before long; in the mean time we must begin at the head. These excuses come too late. You have had ten years in which to show your good intentions, and now we can wait no longer.”
Maximilian resumed his haughty air.
“I did not mean to make excuses, sir. I thought you were speaking sincerely, and I meant to do the same. But, since you have made up your mind already, this conversation is useless. You had better fire that pistol.”
Johann felt a sensation of shame, coupled with an unsatisfactory doubt as to whether he had rightly judged the young man whose life he was about to take. Without removing his finger from the trigger, he slightly lowered the pistol, and responded.
“I can fire as soon as there is the least danger of interruption. But I have not come here to insult you. You asked me why I wished to take your life, and I have told you. I do not accuse you of wilfully injuring the people, but of neglecting your duties towards them for the sake of your own pleasures. You say that the best king is the one who leaves his people alone. In that case we do not need a king at all. Why should we spend millions of money on a useless ornament? No, we are sick of the whole system. We have made up our minds to teach rulers their duty, whether they be kings or presidents or prime ministers. So long as there is one wretched man in this countrywhose wretchedness you have the power to cure, and you do not use that power, you are guilty in the sight of God and man. I have lived among the people all these years, while you have been dreaming of art and palaces. I have seen their misery, I have heard their prayers, which there has been no one to answer. There must be an end to all this. If motives of compassion have no force, if appeals to justice are useless, we must appeal to fear. We must terrify governments into doing their duty; we must teach them that neglect may make the wretched dangerous, that misery breeds assassins.”
His eyes flashed, and his form grew more erect under the inspiration of his own fierce language. For the first time the young King drooped his head.
“I do not blame you,” he answered mildly; “you have made me realise your point of view better than I have ever done before. Only you talk as if the task of grappling with these evils were an easy one, while to me it seems very hard. Suppose we could change places, and you were King for the next six months, how would you set to work to remedy it?”
This unexpected suggestion fairly took the republican aback. He had to consider before he replied.
“To me the idea of kingship is repugnant. I could not rule except by the consent of the people. My first step would be to lay down the crown, and organise a Republican government.”
“And Prussia?” suggested Maximilian. “Suppose half a million troops were marched across theborder to suppress your Republic and set up a new king?”
Johann bit his lip. For the moment he could think of no answer.
Maximilian pursued his advantage. The shock of peril seemed to have stimulated his mind and given him unwonted energy. He went on, speaking clearly and earnestly—
“See here, sir. If I thought you believed in my sincerity I would make a proposition to you. I would ask you to release me on parole for six months, and during that time you should take my place, and run the government on your own lines. At the end of the six months we would come back here, to this gallery, exactly as we are now. I would put that pistol into your hand, still loaded, and you should then decide whether to fire it or not, as you pleased.”
The revolutionist heard this proposal with feelings of almost ludicrous dismay. He realised that the ground was being cut from under him.
“But it would be impossible,” he objected weakly. “Such an arrangement could never be carried out. Your Court, your Ministers, would all refuse to recognise me. I could accomplish nothing.”
“Not by yourself, I admit. But I did not mean that you should take my place quite literally. What I meant was that you should in effect use my authority, such as it is. You have condemned me, no doubt justly, for not making a good use of my power. I want to see what you can do with it, and I also wantyou to see for yourself the nature of the obstacles that lie in the way of realising your ideals. If you accept my offer I will provide rooms in the Castle for you; you shall stay here in some nominal capacity—as my private secretary, for instance—or, if you prefer it, simply as my guest. You shall then put your ideas into shape; every suggestion which you make I will lay before my Ministers as if it came from myself; and you shall be present at our consultations, and judge for yourself what are the powers of a king, and how far they can be exercised for the good of the people. At the end of that time, as I have said, we shall return exactly to our former positions, and perhaps you will then understand me better than you do now. What do you say? Will you accept my offer?”
Bernal, who had been a silent but deeply interested listener to this debate, hardly knew whether to regard Maximilian’s scheme as a serious outcome of his idealistic nature, or as a bold and skilful manœuvre to outwit the revolutionist. He looked anxiously at Johann to see what impression had been produced on him by the King’s proposal.
But Johann was himself too much of a Quixote to suspect that he stood in the presence of a Machiavelli. Completely vanquished by the King’s magnanimity, he was about to throw down his weapon, when all at once a fresh thought struck him. He had just remembered the forester’s daughter.
“Wait,” he said sternly, bending an angry look upon Maximilian. “I have another account to settlewith you. This time it is not a question of neglecting your subjects, but of taking too much interest in them. We have met once to-day already. I saw you leave Franz Gitten’s lodge.”
Maximilian drew back, mortified at his rebuff. At Johann’s last words an exclamation of annoyance burst from him. So his secret had been discovered, and by this violent man.
Misinterpreting the exclamation as a sign of guilt, the other proceeded to a denunciation.
“Yes; not satisfied with all that your boasted art can do for you, you must stoop to prey on the virtue of an innocent young girl, whose only crime is the poverty which leaves her defenceless to your guilty passions.”
He stopped, astonished at the effect produced by his words. Maximilian, his whole face flushed with righteous anger, silenced him with an imperious gesture, and replied warmly—
“Not another word! You insult that noble young girl as much as me by your suspicions. I swear to you that I have never said one evil word, nor harboured one impure thought towards her. I love her as sincerely as you have ever loved—if you ever did love any one. Ask the Herr Bernal there, and he will tell you that this very evening on our way home, I informed him that I contemplated making Dorothea my wife.”
Johann stared at him like one transfixed.
“Dorothea! My cousin!” was all he could utter.
“Your cousin!” came as a simultaneous exclamation from the lips of both the others.
A profound silence succeeded. Maximilian was the first to speak. Turning to his friend, he said mournfully—
“You see, Auguste, my foreboding was true. Now she will know I am the King, and perhaps she will never learn to love me after all.”
Johann hung his head, and let the pistol drop from his passive fingers on to the floor.
Then all at once there was a loud noise, the door of the gallery was thrown open, and a great throng of guards and attendants and members of the Court flocked in, with the Chancellor and Princess Hermengarde among them, and rushed towards the group.
“That must be the man! Seize him!” cried the Chancellor, pointing to Johann.
Johann made a quick movement as if to pick up his fallen weapon, when Maximilian bent forward and whispered to him—
“I give you my parole.”
The next instant a dozen eager hands were clutching at the conspirator on all sides, and Von Sigismark’s voice rang out—
“Take him away, and chain him in the strongest room in the Castle.”
Before the soldiers had time to do anything, a counter-order came sternly and proudly from the lips of the King.
“Stop! Release your prisoner. He has our pardon.”
The Chancellor made a step forward, dismay and incredulity written on his face.
“Pardon me, Sire,” he ventured to remonstrate, “but this man came here with the intention of assassinating you. See, there is his pistol on the floor.”
Hearing the Chancellor’s words, one or two of the soldiers thought fit to retain their hold of the prisoner, till they saw what would come of it. The young King noticed this partial disobedience, and turned upon them pale with anger.
“Fellows, did you hear me?” he demanded, in such threatening tones, that they fairly cowered. “Release this man, I say!”
The men saw their mistake; they forthwith let go their hold, and Johann stood erect.
Then Maximilian condescended to reply to his Minister.
“Whatever purpose this man came here with, he has abandoned it of his own accord. He had dropped his weapon before you entered. I have had an opportunity of talking with him, and I do not regret his having come here. For the present he will remain in the Castle, and I desire that he may be well treated. Karl!”
The favourite stepped forward, trembling with the expectation that his treachery had been discovered and that he was about to receive its reward.
“Take this gentleman to the Chamberlain’s office,”said the King. “See that an apartment is provided for him in my own quarter of the palace, and that he has all he wants.” And turning to Johann, who had remained silent and unmoved through this scene, he added, “I shall send for you later on.”
And after a few words of thanks to the throng who had accompanied Von Sigismark, for their coming to his assistance, the King linked his arm in Bernal’s, and withdrew from the gallery.