XXXVII
They arrived on the following afternoon, the Emperor and his American guests, his relatives, his primate,two or three members of his household, and his ministers. It was raining when they left the train at the little mountain-station, and there was no driveway, no alternative but to walk down the steep and winding paths and stairs, sheltered by the umbrellas the lackeys held over them. As the long file under the umbrellas emerged from the arbor into the garden, the Emperor picking his way daintily on his diminutive toes, and the Archbishop holding up his gown with both hands, while the gorgeous flunkies streamed with rain, the sight was not as imperial as it should have been, and two girls in an upper window giggled irreverently. Being uncertain of their status, they left Maria Leopoldina to receive in solitary state, and did not appear until dinner; but when this solemn hour arrived, Ranata, in an evening-gown of pale-green velvet and all her pearls, entered the audience-chamber where the party was assembled, greeted her father and the guests as she had done many times before, and led the Archbishop down to dinner. With Fessenden it was not possible to exchange more than a flash.
It was a dreary function. The Emperor did not utter a word, although he was graciously pleased to intimate that his guests might talk if they could. Mr. Abbott ate his restricted meal with an expression of grim honor, and felt himself exempt from verbal expression. The Emperor, perhaps with a corresponding sense of irony, had asked him to occupy the state bedroom, lodging himself in the little camp-bed with its tentlike curtains, beloved of the sailor in Maximilian. The archdukes and ministers mumbled at each other; Fessenden and Ranata were many feet apart. Even Alexandra was depressed, and stared at the ugly old masters on the walls, longing for the solace of Zrinyi. Maria Leopoldina was still in a state of bewilderment and horror, which madeher fearful of attempting speech lest she gibber. At times the ticking of the clock in the ceiling above the table could be distinctly heard.
After dinner the Emperor and three of his friends retired hastily to the study for a game of whist, the others scattered, and Ranata and Fessenden found a few moments alone in Carlotta’s boudoir in the tower.
For a time there was no conversation; then Fessenden placed his hands on her shoulders and held her from him, his eyes narrowing to a fiery point.
“Do you realize that I have won?” he said—“that you and I are changing the face of the world?”
“Yes—Alexandra has told me everything. I think you more wonderful than ever—but—is it for the best? Changes should come in the slow course of events.”
“No change occurs that the world is not ready for. The world has never been readier for the extermination of Russia, particularly now that she has become a menace to the United States. And the sooner Europe is a republic the better.”
“I believe you care more for this part of your accomplishment than for me.”
His eyes relaxed and the fires spread.
“No,” he said; “I do not. And we are all mere tools, my dear.”
“If I were still superstitious,” she said a while later, “I should feel very uncomfortable. I am sure this is a subtle revenge of my father’s—not only to marry me in this castle, but to force me to embark from the very spot on which Maximilian said good-bye to Europe forever. Your yacht is where the ship stood which took him to Mexico. Not that my father wishes me any such terrible fate, but he believes me to be superstitious, and that I shall be punished by my imagination, if not by my conscience. But it is too late for that!And Maximilian failed because he was Maximilian. I believe you could not fail if you tried.”