CHAPTER XTHE CARES OF A CHANCELLOR
TheCount von Sigismark stared at his private secretary, and his private secretary stared back respectfully at the Count von Sigismark.
“Where did you hear that?” demanded the Count.
“From Von Hardenburg. He was telling it to everybody as Von Stahlen’s latest.”
“An impertinent fool! And he said—?”
“That the Lady Gertrude—”
“I’ll wager it was something more insolent than that! Yes, had been—”
“Had been cut out by the ‘Poacher’s Child.’”
“It is disgraceful. The fellow ought to be turned out of the palace.”
And he drummed his fingers impatiently on the table before him.
The Chancellor had passed a very uneasy time since his parting with the King the previous day. He had hardly had time to cool down after his interview with the revolutionist when he received a report from the Minister of the Interior, representing the state of things in Mannhausen in an alarming light, and solicitingauthority for the adoption of special measures of repression. His reply had been to wire to his colleague to come to Neustadt, and he was now impatiently expecting his arrival.
Herr Moritz, the Minister referred to, was a comparatively young man, aprotégéof his own, on whose devotion to himself he placed the greatest reliance, while he felt that his plebeian origin was a guarantee against his ever becoming a dangerous rival for power. The entrance of the young Minister at this moment brought an expression of relief to his patron’s countenance. The Chancellor quickly sent away his secretary, and drawing a chair close beside that on which he had made his colleague sit down, he poured into his ear a full account of the events of the past two days.
Thoroughly acquainted with the Chancellor’s character and views, it did not take Herr Moritz long to grasp how things stood in the Castle. The Count was still expatiating on the evil influence over the King wielded by Johann when a summons arrived for the Chancellor to wait upon his Majesty.
“Come with me, Moritz,” said the Count, “and see if you cannot do something to open the young fool’s eyes.”
He drew the younger Minister along with him, and they proceeded to the royal cabinet together.
On the way they encountered the man whose irreverent tongue had so greatly provoked the old Count. Von Sigismark glared at him fiercely, when,to his surprise, Von Stahlen put on an air of the greatest sympathy, and respectfully accosted him.
“My dear Chancellor, has it come to this. I am inexpressibly grieved.”
“Why, what do you mean, sir?” cried the bewildered Von Sigismark.
“I hope I am not taking a liberty, but I inferred that you and the Herr Moritz were on your way to tender the resignations of the Ministry to his Majesty.”
The Chancellor received this ill-timed jest with a furious look, and turned away. But Moritz, who was not disposed to submit to such remarks without making any retort, stopped long enough to say—
“At all events, my lord, I am glad to think there will be no vacancy in the office of Court fool.”
Von Stahlen bit his lip. His comrade, the Baron, glanced at him apprehensively. He felt that his reputation was at stake, and trembled. Then, before the Minister could get out of reach, he responded—
“Thanks, Herr. You shall have my good word with the new Premier, Herr Mark. But no doubt you and he have met already.”
Herr Moritz took this as an insulting allusion to his humble extraction, and flushed angrily. But there was no time for further recrimination, unless he wished to be left behind. So he hurried off after the Chancellor, leaving Von Stahlen to enjoy the felicitations of his faithful admirer.
Von Sigismark sent in the name of his colleague,and the two were at once admitted to the King’s presence.
After leaving Dorothea on the day before, Maximilian had returned to the palace in a more cheerful frame of mind.
Meeting his young cousin in the grounds of the Castle, he had stopped to have a chat with him. Ernest was engaged in teaching one of his dogs the not very difficult trick of standing on its hind legs and answering a species of catechism. As soon as he saw Maximilian, however, he forgot the dog and ran forward to welcome him.
“Cousin Max! Where have you been? I have not seen you all day.”
“Where have you been?” retorted Maximilian, taking the boy’s head in his hands, and playfully wrestling with him.
Ernest pretended to be angry.
“Leave me alone, will you? I wouldn’t go out riding to-day, for fear my mother would make me take Gertrude von Sigismark with me again. I hate women, don’t you?”
“Certainly. Every well-regulated mind hates women,” responded Maximilian, gravely. “But why should your mother want you to take the Lady Gertrude with you?”
“I don’t know. That’s what I was going to ask you. It isn’t as if she were a clever woman or knew anything. Fancy, she asked me if Wolf had ever caught a fox?”
And he pointed to the dog he had been playing with—a handsome Pomeranian.
The King laughed.
“Perhaps your mother wants you to learn manners, you young cub.”
“Oh, bother manners! What is the use of being a prince if I can’t do what I like? And I do wish she wouldn’t talk—” He stopped suddenly, recollecting his mother’s warning, and blushed red.
Maximilian disdained to take advantage of the boy’s simplicity by questioning him.
“Well, what were you doing with Wolf before I came?” he said. “Show me.”
Ernest called the dog to him, only too pleased to show him off.
“Now, Wolf, attention!”
The dog raised himself on his hind legs, and made a ludicrous attempt to remain perfectly motionless while preserving his balance.
“Present arms to the Chancellor!”
A growl was the response.
“Present arms to the King!”
The dog remained quiet.
“Present arms to the Kaiser!”
A short bark from Wolf.
“Now present arms to Cousin Max!”
The dog lifted his forepaws high in the air, and instantly found himself on all fours, when he began leaping and capering round his young master.
“There! What do you think of that?” exclaimed the delighted lad.
His cousin smiled, half mournfully.
“Very clever indeed, Ernest; but, mark my words, Wolf will be poisoned one of these days.”
And with this enigmatic remark he turned and resumed his way to the Castle.
The rest of the day he spent either alone or in the society of Bernal, who found his royal friend’s conversation a trifle tedious, perpetually recurring, as it did, to the subject of Dorothea.
In the morning, however, Maximilian’s conscience reminded him of his pledges to Johann, and after a previous talk with the revolutionist he sent for Von Sigismark to see what he could do with him in a private interview.
“Mind, be firm with him!” were the Chancellor’s last words to Moritz, as he preceded his colleague into the royal cabinet, where the King gave them a gracious welcome.
“You will remember, Count,” said Maximilian as soon as they were seated, “that we adjourned our discussion yesterday. I thought that if you and I met by ourselves we should be more likely to come to an understanding. However, I am very pleased that Herr Moritz should be present, as I wish all my Ministers to know of my intentions.”
The two Ministers exchanged glances.
“I hope, Sire,” the Chancellor ventured to remark, “that your Majesty has had time to consider the difficultieswhich lie in the way of any revolutionary changes, such as were referred to by the person who was here yesterday.”
“Difficulties! Everything is difficult to those who are not in earnest about it. But is the present state of things free from difficulties either? You know I have taken no part in the government. I was to blame for it. I have left matters entirely in your hands and those of my other Ministers, and now what do I hear? My capital is on the very eve of a revolt, and you have never warned me of it.”
“It was precisely in order to warn your Majesty, and to get your sanction for the necessary preventive measures, that Herr Moritz came here to-day,” returned Von Sigismark. “Let his Majesty know the truth,” he added, turning to the other.
“There is nothing to be really alarmed at, in my opinion,” said the Minister for the Interior; “but undoubtedly there is need for caution and firmness. Ever since the relaxation of the police laws, which followed your Majesty’s accession, there has been, I regret to say, a steady growth in the strength of the revolutionary societies. Of course these societies are to be found in all the capitals of Europe, but for some reason they have lately been particularly active in Mannhausen. The actual number enrolled is about two thousand.”
“Three thousand,” threw in Maximilian.
The Minister looked surprised and annoyed.
“Possibly your Majesty has better sources of information than I have,” he began.
“I have.”
The King’s tone was severe.
“I beg your pardon, Sire. I will tell the police that they have under-estimated the numbers of the enrolled. But, as I was about to say, the danger lies not so much in the number of actual members of these societies, as in the very widespread sympathy with them and their aims which prevails among the poorer classes. If the Socialists were to make any open demonstration against the government, there is reason to fear that they would receive the active support of great numbers who are now passively looking on. It is, therefore, absolutely necessary, in my opinion, that we should not wait for the conspirators to take the first step, but that we should at once take precautionary measures.”
“And that is the state of things in which I find my kingdom after only ten years’ reign!” exclaimed the King. “It seems to me that it is rather late in the day to speak of preventive measures now. Every good law passed, every evil institution swept away, is a preventive measure against such conspiracies as you describe, and such measures ought to have been taken long ago.”
The Ministers hung their heads. The old Count answered—
“I am sorry to hear that you are dissatisfied with the results of our efforts to serve you, Sire. I can only express a hope that you will not judge us entirely by one incident like this. Possibly your Majesty mightnever have been disturbed by the news of these troubles but for the arrival of this Herr Mark.”
The King turned on him sharply.
“Possibly not, as you say, Count; but when I find myself confronted in my own palace by a man with a loaded pistol pointed at my head, I think you will admit that I have some reason to inquire into the state of things which has brought him there.”
The Chancellor was silenced. His colleague tried to come to his assistance.
“Perhaps I could give you some information about Herr Mark, Sire. I have heard of him before.”
“Sir,” retorted Maximilian, “he came here, as he told me plainly enough, to assassinate me. I dare say you may have heard of similar events in his past career, but have you heard of anything worse than that?”
“Heaven forbid, Sire!”
“Then it seems to me that it is useless to discuss Herr Mark’s antecedents.”
There was an awkward pause. Both the Ministers felt that they were getting the worst of it. The King was the first to renew the conversation.
“But now let us understand each other. You admit that the present state of affairs cannot continue, that something must be done. Pray what do you propose?”
“My suggestion, Sire,” said Herr Moritz, taking it on himself to reply, “is that, in the first place, we should paralyse the movement by at once arresting the ringleaders.”
“Including, I presume, the one who is at present residing in the Castle?” broke in the King, sarcastically.
“I look upon him as the most dangerous man in Franconia,” returned the Minister, firmly; “but, of course, it is for your Majesty to decide how he shall be dealt with.”
“And your other proposals?”
“That a law should be passed rendering it penal to belong to any political association the objects of which are not reconcilable with loyalty to the throne. If that did not prove sufficient I should ask your Majesty for permission to declare Mannhausen in a state of siege, and try any revolters by martial law.”
“I see. And am I to take it, Count, that you endorse Herr Moritz’s recommendations?”
“Most decidedly so, Sire. In my humble opinion nothing else can save us from a dangerous rebellion.”
“Very good. Now listen. I positively forbid the arrest of any of the ringleaders, as you term them, of this agitation. If they proceed to open breaches of the law, of course you are at liberty to bring them before the ordinary tribunals. But I will consent to no new legislation, nor to the adoption of the other repressive measures which have been mentioned. The only true remedy for the discontent which exists is to take away the grievances from which the people are suffering, and bring the government into touch with the popular will. Those are the lines on which I intend to proceed. At our last interview,” he turned tothe Chancellor, who sat listening in hardly veiled consternation, “a policy was suggested to which you objected. Now I require you to submit to me a programme of your own, embodying measures for the removal of distress, and meeting the principal demands of the people.”
The Chancellor sat helpless, unable to make any reply to this speech, in which he recognised a tone of authority wholly new in his experience of the young monarch. It was again left to the younger Minister to answer for both.
“Your Majesty’s commands are, of course, binding on your Ministers,” he said, in tones of deep respect. “But you will perhaps permit us to confess our ignorance of some of the points which your Majesty has, as it were, taken for granted. You have spoken of distress, as if there were some generally recognised distress prevailing in the country at present. If there be anything of the kind it should be within my province to hear of it, and of course to apply remedies. I can only say, with the greatest deference to your Majesty’s better knowledge, that no hint of any such distress has reached me.”
The King moved, and opened his mouth as if to interrupt. But he remained silent, regarding the Minister with a puzzled air.
Herr Moritz saw that he had made an impression and pursued his advantage.
“You have also spoken of demands on the part of the people. The elected representatives of the people,composing the Lower Chamber of the Legislature, have made no demands, so far as I am aware, which have not been granted, wholly or partly. The only demands to which I can suppose your Majesty to refer are those of the Socialists, whose numbers, taking the figures supplied to you, are only three thousand.”
“But you said yourself that they had the active support of the poorer classes.”
“In Mannhausen, true, Sire,” responded the Minister quickly; “but Mannhausen does not represent Franconia. On the contrary, the nation as a whole is profoundly loyal. The reigning dynasty is regarded as a guarantee of the national independence, and the people have sense enough to see that any attack on the present government would be simply an invitation to Prussia to absorb us like Hanover.”
Maximilian leant his head upon his hands with a weary look.
“What am I to do?” he asked helplessly. “I hear one story from one side, and now I hear the very opposite.”
“Inquire for yourself, Sire,” was the eager response. “Appoint a Commission to gather evidence and report on the state of the country and the needs of the people.”
The old Chancellor looked up and frowned. To his mind even this proposal savoured of the guillotine and the dynamite bomb.
Maximilian closed the discussion in despair.
“I will consider your suggestion,” he said. “It is atleast better than naked repression. In the mean time, take no steps with regard to the Mannhausen plots till you see me again.”
The two Ministers rose, and took their leave. As soon as they were gone the King sent for Johann, with whom he engaged in earnest conversation.
The Count von Sigismark, meanwhile, was congratulating himself on the comparative success with which his colleague had baffled Maximilian.
“We cannot complain,” he said, as they strolled back to his private room through the spacious corridors of the Castle. “We have put him off for a time, at all events. But it was unfortunate that you should have made that admission about the working class being in sympathy with the Socialists.”
“But you told me to let the King know the truth,” objected the other.
The Count heaved a deep sigh.
“My dear Moritz, you will never make a statesman! And then, why did you suggest a Commission? A most dangerous proceeding!”
“Not if we put our own men upon it, surely,” answered the young man, deprecatingly.
“But, my dear fellow, the King will insist on that scoundrel of a Mark taking part in it. No, the Commission will never do. I tell you what it is, Moritz, we must get this man away from the King at any price. Do you think—” He glanced round to see that no one was near, and then whispered something in his companion’s ear at which the other fairly started.
“No, no, my lord; we must not think of that.”
The Count said nothing more, and they got to his apartment.
There they found the Lady Gertrude, who sprang impatiently towards her father as he entered.
On seeing who was with him she restrained herself with some slight confusion, and blushed as she acknowledged the warm greeting of the young Minister. But her father’s inquiring look quickly recalled her to the object which had brought her into his apartments, and she said—
“I have been waiting for an opportunity to see you all day. I have something important which I must tell you privately.” And she glanced at Herr Moritz.
He made a movement towards the door, but the Count stopped him.
“Wait! Do not go just yet.” And he led his daughter aside into a corner of the room.
“Now, be quick! What is it?” he asked, expecting to hear merely of some personal trouble of the capricious beauty. She quickly undeceived him.
“You have heard of that girl whom the King has been noticing lately—the forester’s daughter?”
“Yes; what of her?”
“Did you know that she was in the Castle?”
“No! Here! Good heavens!”
“Yes. She came last night. The Princess Hermengarde has taken her into her service—as a reader, she pretends.”
The old Count stared helplessly at his daughter.
“What does this mean? What is she aiming at now? Curse the woman!” He turned round to his colleague. “Here, Moritz, you ought to know my daughter’s news.” And he repeated what Gertrude had told him.
Moritz looked grave.
“I should look into this without delay, if I were you,” he said anxiously. “You had better have an interview with the Princess, and try to obtain an explanation. Does the King know of this?” he added, turning to Gertrude.
“I believe not. In fact, I am sure. Her arrival was kept quite secret; and the Princess has let very few people see her up to the present.”
Moritz turned to his patron.
“You see, sir, this paves the way for you. You can appear to be acting on behalf of the King.”
“I think you are right. Shall I find the Princess in her apartments now?”
“Yes,” answered Gertrude.
“Then I will go there at once. And you wait here till I return, Moritz.” And he hurried away.
He had not bidden Gertrude to remain behind as well; but she did.