* * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * *
Maximilian was said not to care for dancing, though he danced well—as it was his pride to excel in everything worth doing. Certainly there was usually a perfunctoriness about his manner in a ballroom, a suggestion of a man on duty in his grave face, his readiness to lead a partner to her seat when a dance was over.
But to-night! The white arm on his—the girlish arm that had been firm119as a man's in his defense; the perfume of her hair, and the glamour of the light upon it; the beating of her heart near his as they danced (or did he only fancy that he felt it?); the glory of her eyes, when they were lifted from a wonder-shadow of lashes; the lissom grace of her girlhood, so childlike, so suggestive of spring, contrasting with the voluptuous summer of Rhaetian types of beauty; the rose flush that spread and spread from her cheeks to the Madonna arch of her brows, as he looked, because he could not help looking! To-night was different from any other night, because she was different from any other woman; Maximilian fancied that an accident had befallen the musicians when the music for that waltz came suddenly, as it seemed, to an end.
At the Rhaetian Court there was always a stately interval of ten minutes after each dance. But what are ten minutes to a man who has things to say which could not be said in ten hours?
They had hardly spoken yet—since the day on the mountain; and, at this moment, each was wondering whether or no the memory of that day120should be ignored. Maximilian did not intend to speak of it; Sylvia did not intend to speak of it. But, then, how few matters turn out as people plan!
Next to the throne-room was the ballroom; and beyond was another called the "Waldsaal." Maximilian had had this fitted up for his own pleasure; and it was named the "Waldsaal" because it represented a forest. Walls and ceiling were skilfully covered with thickly growing creepers, trained over invisible wires, through which peeped stars of electric light, like the chequers of sunshine that stray between netted branches. There were realistic grottoes of dark rock, growing trees planted in huge boxes hidden by ivy; while here and there, out of shadowed corners, glared the glassy eyes of birds and animals—eagles, bears, stags, and chamois—that the Emperor had shot. This room, so vast as to appear empty when dozens of people wandered under its trees and among its rock grottoes, was thrown open to the dancers when ever a ball was given at the palace; and, because of its novel121and curious effect, it was more popular than the conservatories and palm-houses. It was here that Maximilian led Sylvia after their waltz; and as she laid her hand upon his arm, an almost overmastering desire seized him to kiss the long white glove, upon the wound she had received for him.
"This is a madness," he said to himself. "It must pass." And aloud, meaning to say some thing else—something courteous and common place, he exclaimed, "Why did you do it?"
Sylvia glanced up at him in surprise.
"I don't understand." And then, in an instant, well-nigh before the words were out, she did understand. She knew that he had not intended to ask the question; but, having spoken, it was characteristic of him to stand by his guns.
"I mean—the thing I shall have to thank you for always," he replied.
If Sylvia had been given time to think, she might have prepared an answer. But given no time, she told only the bald truth. "I couldn't help it."
He looked straight into her eyes. "You couldn't help risking your life122to——" He did not finish.
"It was to save——" Her words also died incomplete.
Then it was that he forgot various restrictions of etiquette which an Emperor, in conversing with a commoner—be the commoner man or woman—is not supposed to neglect.
For one thing, his voice grew unsteady, and his tone was eager as that of some ineligible subaltern with the girl of his first love.
"There is something I should like to show you," he said. Opening a button of the military coat, blazing with jewels and orders, he drew out a loop of thin gold chain. At the end dangled some small object that flashed under a star of electric light.
"My ring!" exclaimed Sylvia in a breathless whisper.
Thus perished the Emperor's intention to ignore the day that had been theirs in the past.
"Your ring. You gave it to Max; he has kept it. He will always keep it. Are you surprised?"
Sylvia wished to say "Yes," but instead she answered "No," because123pretty fibs require preparation; it is only the truth that speaks itself.
"You are not? Then—you guessed, yesterday?"
"I knew—at Heiligengelt. But I wish I need not tell you."
Silence between them for a moment, while Maximilian digested her answer, slowly realizing what it meant. He remembered the bread and ham; the cow, and the rücksacks; he remembered everything and laughed out, boyishly.
"You knew, at Heiligengelt! But not on the mountain when——"
"Yes, I knew even then. It was only a chance—the same adventure might have happened to hundreds of people without their guessing. But I had happened to hear that you went there sometimes, and I had seen many of your pictures—so, when I met a man, I—oh, I wish you had not asked me!"
"Why?"
"Because—one might have to be afraid of an Emperor if he were angry."
"Do I look angry?"
Their eyes met, and dwelt, laughing at first, then probing unexpected124depths which drove away all thought of laughter. Something that seemed alive and independent of control leaped in Maximilian's breast. He shut his lips tightly. Both forgot that a question had been asked, though it was Sylvia who spoke first since it is easier for a woman than for a man to hide feeling behind conventionality.
"I wonder you kept the ring—after all my rudeness."
"I had a special reason for keeping the ring,"
"Will you tell it me?"
"You are quick at forming conclusions, Miss de Courcy. Can't you guess?——"
"To remind you never to help strange young women on mountains?"
"No—not for that."
"I am not to ask the reason?"
"On that day you asked what you chose. All the more should you do so now, since there is nothing I could refuse you."
"Not the half of your kingdom—like the Royal men in fairy stories?"
The light words struck a chord they had not aimed to touch. They went125echoing on and on, till they reached that inner part of himself which the Emperor knew least—his heart. Half his kingdom? Yes, he would give it to her, if he could. Heavens! what such a partnership would be!
"Ask anything you will," he said, as a man speaks in a dream.
"Then tell me—why you kept the ring?"
"Because the only woman I ever cared—to make my friend, took it from her finger and gave it to me."
"Now the Emperor is pleased to pay compliments."
"You don't think that, really? You know I am sincere."
"But you had only seen me for an hour. Instead of meriting your friendship, I had, on the contrary——"
"For one hour? How long ago is that hour? A week or so, I suppose—as time counts. But then came yesterday, and the thing you did for me. Now I have known you always."
"If you had, perhaps you would not want me for your friend."126
"I do want you."
The words would come. It was true—already true. He did want her. But not only as a friend. His world, a world without women or passion ardent enough to eclipse principles, was upside down.
It was well that the ten minutes' grace between dances was over, the music for the next about to begin. A young officer, Count von Markstein's half-brother, who was to be Sylvia's partner, came toward her, then stepped back, seeing that she was with the Emperor. But Maximilian permitted his approach, with a gesture.
"Good-bye," said Sylvia, while her words could still only be heard by the ears for which they were intended.
"Not good-bye—we are to be friends."
"Yes, in heart. But—we shall not often meet."
"Are you going from Salzbrück soon, then?"
"Perhaps."
"I must see you. I will see you—once more, whatever comes!"
"Yes. Once more, but——"127
"After that——"
"Who knows—Captain von Markstein—Yes, it is our dance."
* * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * *
"Once more—once more!" The words lingered in Sylvia's ears. She heard them through everything, as one hears the undertone of a mountain torrent, though a brass band brays out some martial air to drown its music.
Once more he would see her. She could guess why it might be only once, even if he would fain have had it more. This game of hers, begun with such a light heart, was more difficult to play than she had dreamed. If she could but be sure hecared; if he would tell her this, in words, the rest might be easy; though, even so, she did not quite see how the end should come. Yet how, in honour,couldhe tell her that he cared? While, if he told her in any other way, how could she bear her life? "Once more!" What would happen in that once more? Surely nothing but a repetition of grateful thanks and courteous words,128equivalent to farewell.
To be sure, Miss de Courcy and her mother might go away, and the negotiations between the Emperor's advisers and the Grand Duchess of Eltzburg-Neuwald for her daughter's hand could be allowed to continue, as if no outside influence had ruffled the peaceful current of events. Then, in the end, a surprise would come for Maximilian; wilful Princess Sylvia would have had her little romance, and all might be said to end well. But something within Sylvia's fast-beating heart refused to be satisfied with so comparatively tame a last chapter, a finis so obvious. She had tasted a sweet, stimulating draught—she who had been brought carefully up on milk and water—and she was loth to put the cup down, still half-full and sparkling.
"Once more!" If only that once could be magnified into many times; if she could have her chance—her "fling," like other girls!
So she was thinking in the carriage, by her mother's side, driving back to the Hohenburgerhof from the palace; and the Grand Duchess was129forced to speak twice before her daughter became aware that silence had been broken.
"I forgot to tell you something, Sylvia."
"Ye-es, mother?"
"Your great success has made me absentminded, child. You looked like a shining white lily among all those handsome, overblown Rhaetian women."
"Thank you, dear. Was that what you forgot to say?"
"Oh, no! It was this. The Baroness von Lynar has been most kind. She urges us to give up our rooms at the hotel, on the first of the week, and join her house party at Schloss Lynarberg. It is only a few miles out of town. What do you think of the plan?"
"Leave—Salzbrück?"
"She has asked a number of friends—to meet the Emperor."
"Oh! He did not speak of it—when we danced."
"But she has mentioned it to him since, no doubt—before giving me the invitation. Intimate friend of his as she is, she would not dare ask130people to meet him, if he had not first sanctioned the suggestion. Still, she can afford to be more or less informal. The Baroness was dancing with the Emperor, I remember now, just before she came to me. They were talking together quite earnestly. I can recall the expression of his face."
"Was it pleased, or——"
"I was wondering what she had said to make him look so happy. Perhaps——"
"W-What answer did you give Baroness von Lynar?"
"I told her—I thought you wouldn't mind--I told her that we would go."
131
SCHLOSS LYNARBERG stands high on a promontory overlooking a lake, half a dozen miles to the south of Salzbrück. The castle is modern, with pointed turrets and fretted minarets, and, being built of marble, throws a dazzling reflection, like a great submerged swan, into the blue waters of the Kaisersee. Everything about the place, from its tropical gardens to its terraced roofs, suggests luxury, gaiety, pleasure. On the opposite bank of the lake frowns the ancient fortified stronghold of the Counts von Markstein, squatting on its rocky base like a huge black dragon on the coils of its own tail. Its small, deep-set windows glare across the bright waters at the white splendour of Lynarberg, like the jealous eyes of the monster waiting its chance to spring upon and devour a beautiful young maiden.
The moods of Baroness von Lynar, regarding dark old Schloss Markstein,132had varied during her residence by the lake. Sometimes she pleased herself by reflecting that the man who had slighted her lived in less luxury than she had made her own. Again, the thought that "the old bear" could crouch in his den and observe all that went on at Lynarberg, got upon her nerves. She could have shrieked and shaken her fist at the huddled mass of stone across the water. But, during the first days of the Emperor's visit at her house, she often glanced at the grim outlines of the castle, and smiled.
"Can you see, old bear?" she would say to herself. "Are you watching, over there? Do you guessnowwho is responsible for the growth of this love-flower you'd stick your claws into and tear, if you could? But you can't, you know. There's nothing you can do—nothing but sit there and growl, and realize that you've been outwitted for once—by a woman, too. How do you like the prospect, old bear? Do you lie awake at night and wonder what's to become of your fine schemes for the Emperor's marriage? After all, there are some things which can be done133by a woman with tact and money, pleasant houses and an easy-going husband, that the cleverest statesman can't undo. Will you admit so much at last, old grisly one?"
Thus the Baroness would amuse herself at odd moments, when she was not busily arranging original and elaborate entertainments for her guests. And she rejoiced especially at having had the forethought to invite Otto von Markstein, the Chancellor's half-brother. There was a barrier of nearly thirty-five years difference in age between the two men, and they had never been friends, for the elder was temperamentally unable to sympathize with the tastes or understand the temptations of the younger. But it was whispered at Court that the Chancellor had more than once used the gay and popular captain of cavalry for a cat's-paw, in pulling some very big chestnuts out of the fire, and that he would do the same again, if occasion arose. "Handsome Otto"—so known among his admirers—"The Chancellor's —ckal"—thus nicknamed by his enemies—would have found difficulty in keeping up appearances without134the allowance granted by his brother. The ill-assorted pair were often in communication, and the Baroness liked to think that news fresh from Lynarberg must sooner or later be wafted across the water to Markstein. "Iron Heart" would hear of that which his iron hand was powerless to crush; and the old bear would be ready to devour himself in impotent fury.
Therefore she was not surprised, when the Emperor had been for two days at Lynarberg, and there were still three more of his visit to run, that an urgent letter should arrive for Captain von Markstein from the Chancellor.
Poor old Eberhard was wrestling with his enemy, gout, it appeared, and desired Otto's immediate presence. Such a summons could not be neglected; Otto's whole future depended on his brother's caprice, he hinted to the Baroness, in asking leave to desert her pleasant party for a few hours. And she had sent the Chancellor her regards, regretting his indisposition; and Otto had been charged with a friendly message from the Emperor as well. When he had driven off in135one of the Lynarberg carriages, promising to be back in time for dinner and a concert in the evening, the Baroness spent all her energies in getting up an impromptu riding party, which would afford Maximilian the chance of anothertête-à-têtewith Miss de Courcy.
Already many such had been arranged, apparently without giving rise to gossip; and if the flirtation (which was to disgust Maximilian with his Chancellor's matrimonial projects) did not progress with startling rapidity, it would not be the fault of an accommodating hostess.
"Otto has been bidden to use his eyes and ears at my house, and now he is called upon to hand in his report," she said to herself, when her guest had departed on his errand of compassion. But, for once at least in his career, the "Chancellor's Jackal" was wronged by unjust suspicions. He arrived at Markstein ignorant of his brother's motive in sending, though he did not for an instant believe it to be the one alleged.
The Chancellor was in his dark, octagonal study, reading a budget of letters, when Otto was announced. If he were ill, he did not show his136suffering. His square face, with its beetling brows, its domelike forehead, was graven with no deeper lines, looked no more like a mask of carved mahogany, than usual.
"Sit down," he said gruffly, flinging aside an envelope postmarked Abruzzia. "I shall be ready to talk with you in a minute."
Otto took the least uncomfortable chair in the Room—which was saying but little in its favour, as the newest article of furniture there had been made a hundred years before the world understood the luxury of lounging. Over the high mantel hung a silver shield, so brightly polished as to perform the office of a mirror. From where Otto sat, rigid and upright, he could see himself vignetted in reflection. He admired his complexion, which was like a girl's; pointed the ends of his fair moustache with nervous cigarette-stained fingers and wondered ruefully which of his pleasant peccadilloes had buzzed to Eberhard's ears. Half unconsciously his gaze turned from his own agreeable image to the outer page of the letter, held in a hand so veined that it resembled a surface of rock covered with the sprawling roots of old137trees. Otto had just time to recognize the writing as that of the Crown Prince of Abruzzia, whom he had met, when a pair of keen eyes, curtained with wrinkled lids, peered over the crested sheet of paper.
"It's coming," thought Otto. "What can the old curmudgeon have found out?"
But, to his surprise, the Chancellor's first words had no connection with him or his misdeeds.
"So Maximilian is amusing himself at Lynarberg?" the old man grunted.
Otto's face visibly brightened. He was not clever or full of resources, and he would always prefer discussing the affairs of others with this elder brother, rather than his own. "Oh, yes," he answered alertly. "His Majesty seems to be amusing himself uncommonly well. But you, Eberhard! Tell me of yourself. You sent for me. Your gout——"
"The devil run away with my gout!"
Otto started. "I devoutly wish he would, so he left you behind," he retorted—meaning exactly the opposite, as he usually did when talking with the Chancellor. "But——"
"Don't tell me you supposed I had sent for you that I might have the138pleasure of your condolences?"
"No-o," laughed Otto. "I fancied there was another reason; but I am bound in common politeness to take your sincerity for granted until you undeceive me."
"Hang common politeness!" remarked the old bear—or as nearly in those words as the Rhaetian language permitted. "I sent for you to tell me what mischief that witch-hawk Malvine von Lynar is hatching. You are on the spot. You should see everything. It will not be the worse for you if for once you have used those handsome eyes of yours to some advantage!"
Otto was genuinely astonished, as during the long drive he had been carefully bracing himself against a personal attack. He sat pulling his moustache, and was still trying to remember some striking incident with which to adorn his narrative, when the Chancellor began again.
"Has Maximilian been playing the fool at Lynarberg these last two days?"
"Fool is a strong word to use in connection with one's sovereign,"139smiled Otto, recovering his presence of mind. "But if by playing the fool you mean falling in love, why, then, brother, I should say he had done little else during those two days you mention."
"Iron Heart" growled out a word which he would certainly not have uttered in his Royal master's presence, especially in the connection he suggested. "Give me a detailed account of what has been going on, from beginning to end," he commanded.
Otto looked thoughtful. This, then, explained the sudden summons. He was to be let off easily; but, his suspense relieved, he was not ready to be satisfied with purely negative blessings.
"It seems a little like telling tales out of school, doesn't it?" he gently objected.
"Schoolboys with empty pockets do that sometimes," sneered the Chancellor. "But perhaps your pockets are not empty—eh?"
"They are in a chronic state of emptiness!" groaned Otto.
"On the fifteenth day of October your quarterly allowance will be140paid," said "Iron Heart." "I would increase the instalment by the amount of five thousand gulden, if you took pains to—humour any whim of mine."
"I am always delighted to please you," answered Otto, with alacrity. "It is only natural, living the monotonous life you do, when not busy with affairs of state, that you should care to hear what goes on in the world outside; and I will gladly do my best as araconteur."
"Don't lie," said the Chancellor. "The habit is growing on you. You lie to yourself; presently you willbelieveyourself, and then all hope for your soul will be over. I want to know how far Maximilian has gone in his infatuation for this English girl. I am not afraid to speak plainly to you, and you can safely do the same with me. The woman Von Lynar attempted to draw me, as she would have expressed it, on this subject, and, by Heaven, I'm ashamed to say that she succeeded. She suggested an entanglement; I replied that Maximilian was not the man to rouse a hornet-nest of gossip round the ears of a141woman who had saved his life. No matter what his inclination might be, he would pay her no repeated visits at the Hohenburgerhof. This thrust the Von Lynar Parried—as if repeating a mere rumour—by remarking that she understood the girl was to stay at the house of some one among the Emperor's friends. I attached little importance to her chatter, believing it but a spiteful slap such as it is the tiger- cat's pleasure to deal those she hates. For once in her life, though, she has stolen a march upon me. The secret was only kept until too late for me to prevent the Emperor from fulfilling his engagement; then I don't doubt she was all eagerness that I should hear of her success."
"Do you think that, even if you had known sooner, you could have prevented the Emperor from going to Lynarberg?" inquired Otto, with thinly veiled incredulity. "If you are iron, he is steel."
"Iwouldhave prevented it," retorted the Chancellor. "I should have made no bones about the reason, for I have found that the only way142with Maximilian is to tell him the truth, and fight it out—my experience against his obstinacy. If advice and warning had not sufficed to keep him from insulting the girl who is to be his wife, and injuring the reputation of the girl who never can be, I would have devised some other expedient. I am not a man easily thwarted."
"Nor is he," added Otto. "But, since you seem so determined to nip this blossom of love in the bud, it is not yet, we'll hope, too late for frost."
"I sent for you," said the Chancellor, brushing away metaphor with an intolerant gesture, "to show me the exact spot on which to lay a finger."
"And I will try to deserve your confidence," gracefully responded the young officer. "Let me see where it will be best to begin. Well, as you know, it is simpler for the Emperor to see much of a woman he favours with his regard in a friend's house than at the Hohenburgerhof or any hotel in Rhaetia. This particular woman saved his life at the risk of her own, and it is so natural he should wish to do her honour,143that everybody takes his attitude for granted. Miss de Courcy and her mother, with several others of our party, had been for some days guests at Lynarberg before the Emperor came, and were ready to receive him. The girl is exceptionally beautiful, with a winning manner which appeals to women equally with men. Miss de Courcy had her friends and admirers in the house before the Emperor arrived; not one of the Baroness von Lynar's guests incline to put an evil construction on a little flirtation between her and Maximilian. Are you sure, Eberhard, thatyouare not taking too serious a view of the matter?"
"It cannot be regarded too seriously, in the circumstances. Princesses are women, and gossip is hydra-headed. When the lady who has been allowed to understand that the Emperor only waits an opportunity of formally asking for her hand hears—as she will hear—that he has seized this moment for his firstliaisonwith another woman, neither she nor her family are likely to take the news kindly. She is German; on her father's side, second cousin to Kaiser Wilhelm. She is English;144on her mother's side, distantly related to Queen Victoria. Both countries would have reason to resent a slight."
"The little affair must be hushed up," said Otto.
"It must be stopped," said the Chancellor.
"A-ach!" sighed the younger brother. There was a world of meaning in the long-drawn breath, if the elder cared to read it.
At least, it roused him to a renewed sense of irritation. "Go on," he demanded. "Go on with your sorry tale."
"After all, when one comes to the telling, there isn't much that can be put into words," Otto reflected aloud. "The Emperor's place at the table has naturally been beside the Baroness. For next neighbour she considerately gave him Miss de Courcy. It has been noticed that they have talked together as much as etiquette to the hostess allowed, during dinner. Then—the Emperor being an old friend of the Von Lynars, accustomed to visiting at Lynarberg since he was a boy—he took it upon himself to show the English girl some of the beauties of the place. I know that they went alone together to the rose-garden,145which is famous, you remember; and Miss de Courcy came back with her hands full of flowers, doubtless gathered for her by Maximilian. On the evening of his arrival we were all out on the lake in small boats. The Emperor rowed Miss de Courcy to the Isle of Cupid, to see Thorwaldsen's statue, and lesser mortals joined them there. Yesterday, we had a picnic at the Seebachfall. The Emperor and Miss de Courcy are both remarkably good climbers, and reached the top long before the others. I was close behind, however, with our friend Malvine, at starting from the carriages, and I overheard some joke between them about a mountain, and a cow; the Emperor spoke of milking as a 'fine art', and remarked that he had lately learned. I could hear no more; but it struck me that the two were on terms ofcamaraderie.
"Last night, there were fireworks on the lake (perhaps you saw something of them from your windows?); the Emperor and Miss de Courcy watched them side by side—for everything was conducted quite146unconventionally; you know he hates formality when visiting as much as he hates the lack of it in business. Afterward, we had an impromptu cotillon, with several new figures invented by the Baroness; Maximilian and Miss de Courcy danced often together. This morning, we all visited the stables, the kennels, and the gardens; the Emperor walked sometimes with the hostess, sometimes with Miss de Courcy. This brings us up to the moment of my departure; for the afternoon, I fancy Malvine had planned a ride."
"The girl is a fool and an adventuress!" pronounced the Chancellor. "She must know that nothing can come of such folly—except scandal."
Otto shrugged his stiffly-padded shoulders. "A woman in love doesn't stop to count the cost!"
"So! you fancy her in 'love' with the Emperor?"
"With the man, rather than the Emperor, if I am a judge of character."
"Which you are not!" Old "Iron Heart" brusquely disposed of that147suggestion. "The silliest woman could pull wool over your eyes, if she cared to take the trouble."
"This one does not care. She hardly knows that I exist."
"Humph!" The Chancellor peered over his gold-bowed spectacles at his young brother's handsome face. "That's a pity. You might have tried cutting Maximilian out! You would not be a bad match for an ambitious woman, with your good looks, our position, and my money."
"Your money?"
"I mean, if I chose to proclaim you my heir. I would do that, if you married to please me. Who are these De Courcys?"
"I have not had the curiosity to inquire into their antecedents," said Otto. "I only know that they are ladies, that they must be persons of consequence in their own country (or they could not have got letters to everybody here from Lady West), and that the girl is the handsomest creature living."
"The tiger-cat said that Lady West was responsible for the mother and148daughter," soliloquized the Chancellor aloud. "But Rhaetia is a long cry from England. And letters are forged sometimes. I have known such things more than once in my experience. Fetch me a big red volume you will find on the third shelf of the bookcase, in the corner by the window that overlooks the lake. The book is Burke's Peerage!"
Otto rose promptly to obey. He was rather thoughtful. His brother had put a completely new idea into his head.
Presently the red volume was discovered and laid open on the desk before the Chancellor, who slowly turned to the required page. As his eye fell upon a long line of De Courcys, his face changed, and the bristling brows drew together in a straight line. At least, these women did not appear to be adventuresses, in the ordinary acceptation of the term.
There they were; his square-tipped finger found and pressed down upon the printed names, with a dig that symbolized its disposition toward their claimants.
"The girl's mother is the widow of Sir Thomas, sixth Baron de Courcy,"149the Chancellor mumbled half-aloud. "Son, Thomas Alfred—um—um—um—twelve years old; daughter, Gladys Irene Mary Katherine, twenty-eight. Humph! She's no chicken; she ought to have better sense."
"Twenty-eight!" echoed Otto. "I'll behangedif she's twenty-eight."
"She doesn't look it?"
"Not a day more than eighteen. Might be younger. I never was so surprised to learn a woman's age. By the way, I heard her telling Von Lynar last night,a proposof our great Rhaetian victory in that month and year, that she was born in June, '79. If so she would now have been twenty-one. It was difficult to believe her even as much. When she'd spoken, I remember she gave a sudden start and blush, looking across the room at her mother, as though she were frightened. I suppose she hoped there was no copy of this great red book at Lynarberg."
"That thought might have been in her mind," grunted the Chancellor, "or——" He left his sentence unfinished, and sat, with prominent,150unseeing eyes fixed in an owlish stare on the open page of Burke.
"Did you really mean what you said a few minutes ago about my marriage?" Otto ventured to attract his brother's attention. "Because if you did——"
"If I did—what then?"
"I might—try to please you in my choice of a wife."
"Be more explicit. You mean you would endeavour to show this Miss de Courcy that a bird in the hand is worth an Emperor in the bush—a bramble bush at that?"
"Yes, I would do my best. I have—er—some advantages."
"You have. And I was on the point of suggesting that you should make the most of them in her eyes, before—you brought me this book." The large forefinger tapped the page of De Courcys, while two grim lines of dogged purpose framed the Chancellor's long-lipped mouth.
"And now you've changed your mind?" There was a distinct note of151disappointment in "handsome Otto's" voice.
"I don't say that. I merely say, 'Wait'. Make yourself as indispensable to the lady as you choose; that is, on your own responsibility; but don't pledge yourself, and don't count upon my promise or my money, until you hear again. By that time—well, we shall see what we shall see. Keep your hand in; but wait—wait."
"How long am I to wait? If the thing is to be done at all, it must be done soon. Meanwhile, the Emperor makes all the running."
The Chancellor looked up, his eyes introspective, his fist still covering the De Courcys.
"You are to wait until I have had answers to a couple of telegrams I shall send to-night."
152
"You meaner beauties of the night,That poorly satisfy our eyesMore by your number than your light,You common people of the skies——What are you when the moon shall rise?"
"You meaner beauties of the night,That poorly satisfy our eyesMore by your number than your light,You common people of the skies——What are you when the moon shall rise?"
"You meaner beauties of the night,
That poorly satisfy our eyes
More by your number than your light,
You common people of the skies——
What are you when the moon shall rise?"
THE first and second dressing-gongs had sounded at Schloss Lynarberg on the evening of the day after Otto's visit to his brother, and the Grand Duchess was beginning to wonder what detained her daughter, when ringed fingers tapped smartly at the door. "Come in!" she answered the familiar sound, and Sylvia appeared on the threshold, still in the tennis dress she had worn that afternoon. She stood for an instant without speaking, her face so radiantly beautiful that it seemed illumined by a light from within.
It had been on the tip of her mother's tongue to scold the girl for her delay, since to be late was an almost unpardonable offense, with153Royalty in the house. But the words died, and others of a different sort came trooping to their place.
"Sylvia, what is it? You look—I hardly knowhowyou look! But something has happened."
The Princess came slowly across the room, smiling with the air of one who walks in sleep. She hardly appeared to see the chair she took, but sat down as if by instinct, then rested her elbows on her knees, her chin nestling between her palms, like a pinky-white rose in its calyx.
"You may go, Josephine," said the Grand Duchess to her maid. "I will ring when I want you again."
The elaborate process of dressing her luxuriant gray hair had just been finished. The rest might wait until curiosity was satisfied.
But Sylvia sat still, dreaming. The Grand Duchess had to speak twice in a raised tone before she could command attention. "My child—have you anything to tell me?"
Sylvia roused herself. "Nothing, mother, Really—except that I am the154happiest girl on earth."
"Why—what has he said?"
"Not a word that any one might not have listened to. But Iknow. Hedoescare; and I think he will say something before we part."
"There is only one day more of his visit here, after to-night."
"One whole, long, beautiful day—together!"
"But after all, darling," ventured the Grand Duchess, "what do youexpect? If you were really only Miss de Courcy, marriage between you and the Emperor of Rhaetia would be out of the question. You've never been very communicative on this subject, but I wish I knew exactly what you hope for, what you will consider the—the keystone of the situation?"
"Only for him to tell me that he loves me," Sylvia confessed. "If I am right—if I have brought something new into his life—something which has shown him that he has a heart as well as a head—then there will come a moment when he can keep silent no longer, when he will have to say, 'I love you', and because we can be nothing to each other day is155turned into night for me. Then—when that moment comes—the tide of my fortune will be at its flood. I shall tell him that I love him, too—and—I shall tell him all the truth."
"You will tell him who you really are?"
"Yes; and why I have been masquerading. That it was because he had always been the one man on earth for me; because, when our marriage was suggested, I would win his love first as a woman, or I would live single all my days."
"What if he should be angry and refuse to forgive you? You know, dear, we shall be in a curious position, at best, when the truth comes out, having made our acquaintances here under the name of De Courcy. Even Lady West, so dear a friend, so romantic a heart, was uncomfortable about the letters. She only eased her conscience because our real position in the world was much higher than the one we assumed; therefore, those to whom we were introduced would be but too pleased to know us in our own characters at the end. Yet Maximilian is aman, not a romantic woman; he has always borne a reputation for156austerity, for being just before he was generous, and it may be that to one of his nature a mad prank like this of yours——"
"You think of him as hewas, not as he is, if you fancy he would be hard with—a woman he loved," said Sylvia. "He will forgive me, mother; I have no fear of that. To-night, I have no fear of anything. He loves me—and I am Empress of the world."
"Many women would be satisfied with Rhaetia," was the practical thought in the mind of the Grand Duchess; but she would throw no more cold water upon her daughter's mood of exaltation. She kissed Sylvia on the forehead, breathed a few words of sympathy; and then shook her head, sighing doubtfully, when the girl had gone to her own room to dress.
It sounded poetical, and as easy to arrange as turning a kaleidoscope to form a new combination, while Sylvia talked; but, when her happy face and brilliant eyes no longer illumined the situation, the way seemed dark. To be sure, Sylvia had so far walked triumphantly along the high road to success; but it was not always a good beginning which157made a good ending, as the old Duke of Northminster had been wont to observe; and now the Grand Duchess of Eltzburg-Neuwald felt that her nerves must remain at high tension until matters were definitely settled, for better or for worse.
Sylvia had never in her life been lovelier than she was that night at dinner, and Otto von Markstein's admiration for her beauty had in it a new ingredient, which added a fascinating spice. He had regarded her until yesterday as a penniless connoisseur regards a masterpiece of statuary which it is impossible that he should dream of possessing. What we know is not for us, we are scarcely conscious of desiring; but the moment an element of hope enters in, we behold the object from a more personal point of view.
Otto looked also very often at the Emperor, contrasting his sovereign's appearance somewhat unfavourably with his own. Maximilian was thin and dark, with a grave cast of feature; while Otto's face had contrived to retain all the colour and beauty of youth. Alma Tadema would have wreathed him with vine leaves, given him a lute, draped him158in a tiger skin, and set him down on a marble bench against a sapphire sky, when he would have appeared to far greater advantage than in the stiff uniform of a crack Rhaetian regiment. Maximilian, on the contrary, must always have been painted as a soldier, and it seemed to the young officer, since his grim brother had put the thought into his head, that there could be no question as to the ultimate preference of a normal girl.
Miss de Courcy did not—notice him at present, because the Emperor loomed large in the foreground; but Eberhard had evidently a plan in his head for removing that stately obstacle into the perspective.
Otto had not heard that Miss de Courcy was an heiress, therefore, even had there been no Emperor, he would not have prostrated himself at the attractive shrine. But now the shrine was newly decked. Otto dwelt much in thought upon the Chancellor's apparently impulsive offer and the somewhat contradictory command which had, a little later, enjoined delay.
He had not, fortunately, been forbidden to preen himself under the159eyes of the English beauty, and his desire now was, when the men should rejoin the ladies after dinner, to make his way at once to Miss de Courcy's side. But, as bad luck would have it, Baron von Lynar detained him for a few moments with the account of a marvellous remedy which might cure the Chancellor's gout; and when he escaped to look for Miss de Courcy in the great white drawing-room, she was nowhere to be seen. From the music-room adjoining, however, came sounds which drew him toward the door. He knew Miss de Courcy's touch on the piano; she was there, playing soft, low chords. Perhaps she was preparing to sing, as she had once or twice before, and would need some one to turn the pages of her music. Otto was in the act of pushing aside the embroidered white velvet portiere that curtained the door, when his hostess smilingly beckoned him away. "The Emperor has just asked Miss de Courcy to teach him an old-fashioned English or Scotch air (I fear I don't know the difference!) called 'Annie Laurie,'" she explained.160"He was quite charmed when she sang it the other day; and I have been telling him that the music would exactly suit his voice. I think we had better not disturb them until the lesson is over. Tell me (I had hardly a moment to ask you last night), how did youreallyfind the Chancellor?"
Chained to a forced allegiance, Otto mechanically answered the quickly following questions of the Baroness, ears and eyes both doing their secret best to penetrate the curtain of white and gold.
Everybody knew of the music lesson, and everybody chatted in tactful pretense of ignorance. Once, twice, and thrice the mezzo-soprano and the baritone sang conscientiously through the verses of "Annie Laurie," with occasional breakdowns and new beginnings; then a few more desultory chords were struck on the piano: and at last silence reigned in the music-room. Were the two still there? If they conversed in low tones, it would not only be impracticable to catch what they said, but even to hear the murmur of their voices, in the drawing-room. To interrupt such atête-à-têtewas not to be thought of, but161Otto was turning over in his mind some less conspicuous, equally efficacious way of ending it, when there came a sudden diversion.
Lady de Courcy received a telegram, brought by mounted messenger from Salzbrück, and was so much affected thereby that she showed signs of swooning. Her plump, pleasant little face grew pale; she rose from her chair, tottering, and admitted, in answer to Baroness von Lynar's solicitous inquiries, that she had had bad news.
"Where is my daughter?" she asked. "I think, as I am rather upset by—by disquieting accounts of a dear friend, I had better go to my room. And I shall be somuchobliged if—Mary can be sent to me as soon as she comes in."
Now was Otto's chance. While every one gathered round Lady de Courcy, and smelling-salts were in requisition, he lifted the white portière and peeped through a small antechamber into the music-room. The Emperor and Miss de Courcy were no longer there.
Otto twisted his moustache; he usually twisted it on the right side162when pleased; and he twisted it—a great deal more—on the left when he was displeased. He looked reproachfully round the room, and presently observed that one of the large windows leading to the Italian garden stood wide open.
The month of September was dying; but, though winter had begun in the Rhaetian mountains, warmth and sunshine still lingered in the neighbourhood of Salzbrück. A balmy air, laden with sweet scents of the flowers which Baron von Lynar had imported from Italy, floated to Otto's nostrils. The languorous perfume suggested soft dalliance and confessions of love. The Emperor had taken Miss de Courcy into the garden: Otto knew that well enough; and if there had been a plentitude of trees, with broad trunks, behind which a man's figure might modestly conceal itself in the darkness, he would unobtrusively have followed. But he mentally reviewed the shrubbery, plant by plant, as he could recall it, and decided at last that the better part of valour for an officer and a gentleman lay in remaining within doors. He did163not, however, return to the drawing-room, despite the concern for Lady de Courcy's health which had taken him in search of her daughter. Heavy curtains of olive-green velvet hung straight down over the windows of the music-room, and by neatly sandwiching oneself in a deep embrasure between drapery and window-frame, one found a convenient niche for observing a limited quarter of the garden. The moon was rising over the lake, and long, pale rays of level light were creeping up the paths, like the fingers of a blind man that touch gropingly the features of a beloved face.
Otto could not see very far, but if the Emperor and his companion returned by the way they had taken, as they were almost sure to do, he would know whether they walked back to the house in the attitude of formal acquaintances or—lovers.
They had not been gone from the piano for many minutes, and they would not be likely to extend this duet which so logically followed the music much longer. One of the two, if not both, would have sense enough left to rememberles convenances.
But the moments went on, and Otto, whose patent-leather pumps were164rather tight, changed from one position to another, straining his eyes down the whitening alleys in vain.