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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7b67c7d --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66558 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66558) diff --git a/old/66558-0.txt b/old/66558-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 2a0ea99..0000000 --- a/old/66558-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,13966 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Prince of the Captivity, by Sydney C. -Grier - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Prince of the Captivity - The Epilogue to a Romance - -Author: Sydney C. Grier - -Release Date: October 18, 2021 [eBook #66558] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRINCE OF THE CAPTIVITY *** - - - - - THE PRINCE OF - THE CAPTIVITY - - The Epilogue to a Romance - - - BY - SYDNEY C. GRIER - AUTHOR OF - ‘AN UNCROWNED KING,’ ‘ THE WARDEN OF THE MARCHES,’ - ETC., ETC. - - - (_Fourth in the Balkan Series_) - - - WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS - EDINBURGH AND LONDON - MCMII - - - - - CONTENTS. - - I. BOTH SIDES OF THE QUESTION - II. BORN IN THE PURPLE - III. THE BURDEN OF A SECRET - IV. HIT AND MISS - V. MANŒUVRES - VI. _TOTÂ QUOD MENTE PETISTI_ - VII. A FAMILY LIKENESS - VIII. LOVE IN IDLENESS - IX. A CHANGE OF VENUE - X. A DAMSEL IN DISTRESS - XI. KNOWN TOO LATE - XII. MURDERED FAITH - XIII. _MALA SORTE_ - XIV. FOR PITY’S SAKE - XV. NOT LONG A-DOING - XVI. BEYOND RECALL - XVII. MISSING - XVIII. WANDERING FIRES - XIX. A CHANCE WORD - XX. FOILED - XXI. QUEEN AND KING - XXII. OPENING THE PRISON DOORS - XXIII. THE PRICE TO BE PAID - XXIV. _RISORGIMENTO_ - - - - - THE PRINCE OF THE CAPTIVITY. - - CHAPTER I. - BOTH SIDES OF THE QUESTION. - -There were only a few passengers by the South Wales Express, and to -one young man in a first-class carriage the fact was very welcome. He -had bought a paper almost unconsciously from the boy who came to the -window, but it did him good service as a shield, from behind which he -could cast suspicious and hostile glances, after the manner of the -travelling Briton, at any one who seemed inclined to disturb his -solitude, as long as the train was in the station. But when once the -dreary and dirty buff brick surroundings of the terminus had been left -behind, the paper fell to the floor, and Lord Usk gazed out of the -window with an expression which seemed too ecstatic to be evoked even -by the busy harvest-fields and the nursery-gardens full of asters and -late roses on which his bodily eyes were resting. And indeed the scene -before him might still have been a brick-and-mortar desert for all -that he saw of it. His mental gaze was fixed upon the face of Miss -Félicia J. Steinherz, the sight of which had changed the whole course -of his life. - -Could it really be the case, he was wondering, that a month ago he had -never seen Félicia Steinherz? Yes, it was perfectly true, and the -curious thing was that though he now saw clearly that life must have -been a howling wilderness in those days, it had not seemed so at the -time. He had been fairly satisfied with himself and his prospects, and -quite unconscious that the world was in reality empty and out of -joint. It was with a scornful pity that he looked back from his -vantage-point of to-day upon the Usk of a month ago. She was breathing -the same air with him then, and yet he had not so much as guessed at -her existence, nor even been conscious of a blank without her! Ah, but -he had; for was she not the fulfilment of all his dreams, the -realisation of the ideal of womanhood which had haunted him from his -boyish days? Here and there, in one woman or another, he had caught, -as it seemed, glimpses of this ideal, but closer acquaintance -dispelled the illusion. The woman of his dreams still eluded him -tantalisingly--until he met Félicia. He did not ask himself whether -she corresponded in all respects with his mental picture; it was -enough that she was herself. - -He could recall at this moment the rapture which had thrilled him when -she first flashed upon his sight. It was the most ordinary and prosaic -of introductions. He had met Hicks, the American newspaper-man, -unexpectedly in Fleet Street, and had accepted without much enthusiasm -his invitation to come and call with him upon J. Bertram Steinherz, -the great Rhode Island shipbuilder, and his daughter, familiarly known -in the States as the Plate Princess. Usk was not keen on meeting -Americans, especially American heiresses who were presumably visiting -England in search of titled bridegrooms, but Hicks was a family -friend, and he accompanied him meekly to the Hotel Bloomsbury, with a -passing wonder at the millionaire’s choosing such a locality. There -was some excuse for the introduction, naturally; what was it? Oh, of -course; Mr Steinherz was interested in a contract for the navigation -of the Euphrates, and Usk had lately voyaged down that river, and -could give him some tips. Blessed Euphrates! had it not floated him -into paradise? He remembered Mr Hicks’s caustic strictures on the -decoration of the hotel as compared with that of similar buildings in -America, and his own shrug of amusement as he wondered what degree of -obtrusive magnificence would be required to satisfy the æsthetic -sense of the representative of the ‘Empire City Crier.’ He had entered -the over-decorated room without receiving the slightest warning that -it contained the one woman in the world, and his recollections came to -a sudden stop at the point when the great discovery burst upon him. Mr -Steinherz was there, of course, gentlemanly and well set-up, with a -pointed grey beard and drooping moustache, which gave him the look of -a retired naval officer; and there was a Miss Logan, who was -introduced by Mr Steinherz as “my adopted daughter,” a thin, -eager-looking girl, smartly dressed, and noticeable for a high, -penetrating voice. Lastly, there was Miss Steinherz. She sat in her -great carved oak chair like a princess receiving her court,--if ever a -princess had such tiny hands and feet and such wonderful eyes,--and -the draperies which floated round her were like nothing in heaven or -earth but clouds. In cold blood Usk would probably have surmised that -Miss Steinherz was wearing a tea-gown, although her dress had little -in common with the loose and comfortable garment which his sister -Philippa had been wont to don after a hard day’s hunting. There was -lace about it that a queen might have worn--indeed Usk gathered later -that the precious fabric, only half revealed, had been forced by the -pinch of poverty from the hoarded stores of a queen in exile--there -was the gleam of tiny diamond buckles, but the effect of the whole was -that of clouds, clouds which were neither pink nor lavender nor grey -nor blue, but which in some mysterious manner were all these at once. -A woman would have hinted at the dexterous mingling and -superimposition of chiffon of various tints, but to Usk all was -mystic, wonderful. He was not even aware that his eyes and thoughts -were alike fixed upon Miss Steinherz until he found himself assuring -her father that at certain points in the voyage down the Euphrates it -was usual to drag the steamer a mile or two overland. - -After all, no harm was done--or at least Mr Steinherz did not appear -to be astonished by this remarkable piece of information. Miss -Steinherz it was who pounced upon the slip like a cat upon a mouse, -and made merry at Usk’s expense for the rest of the visit. He could -not have imagined an English girl’s engrossing the conversation as she -did, and few Englishmen would have followed her lead as meekly as did -her father and Mr Hicks; but how delightful it was to hear her talk, -even when he himself was her butt! Now she was leaning back languidly -in her chair, playing with a peacock-feather fan, while the words -flowed forth slowly in a delicious lingering drawl; anon she was -sitting erect, with every faculty on the alert, and rattling forth in -quick succession the raciest, the most daring remarks. Not for one -moment was Usk allowed to forget the foolish thing he had said, and -yet while he was half-wounded, he was also half-pleased, and wholly -fascinated. Miss Steinherz might say what she liked, if only she would -say it in such an original and delightful way, and exhibit a new and -more exquisite expression of face or pose of head with each sentence. - -That night Usk paced his rooms until dawn. New impressions and -sensations had so thronged upon him in the hour spent at the Hotel -Bloomsbury that to be still was impossible, far more so to sleep. Now -that he was removed from the witchery of her presence, it was borne in -upon him what a pitiful figure he must have cut in her eyes. What -could he do to convince her that he was not such a fool as he had -appeared? To remain under such a stigma, to feel that he had deserved, -not merely incurred, her contempt, was unbearable. An inspiration came -to him, and day found him rummaging among the relics of his Eastern -journey. Maps, photographs, scraps of his journals, geological -specimens--everything that bore even remotely on the subject in which -Mr Steinherz was interested--all these were looked out with the object -of turning them to account. Usk was gazing at a most promising heap, -when another inspiration came to him. He had made himself look a fool, -there was no getting over the fact, and had deserved the raillery Miss -Steinherz had poured upon him, but he would turn this defeat into a -victory. These relics of travel, judiciously produced one by one, -should procure him admission to the Hotel Bloomsbury not for one brief -visit, but on many successive days. Perhaps he might succeed in -rehabilitating himself in Miss Steinherz’s eyes by his eagerness to -help her father, perhaps not; at any rate he would see her. - -There was no shooting for Usk that August, and the man whose party he -was to have joined on the moors found himself thrown over. September -came, but the Marquis of Caerleon tramped the Llandiarmid -stubble-fields alone, for Usk was still, as his father remarked -ruefully, glued to London. Miss Steinherz was more beautiful and -adorable and generally goddess-like than ever. Her turns of speech -were nothing less than exquisite; even the way that she said “Pap-pa” -and “Eu-rope” had a subtle charm of its own, and the little -affectation of the accent on the first syllable raised her somewhat -colourless Christian name into something unutterably sweet and -strange. Her tongue was as ready as ever, but Usk had begun to fancy -that she was not quite so inexorable in making fun of him as she had -been. She had actually allowed him once or twice to finish a sentence -without instantly turning it into ridicule, and on this slight -foundation Usk was joyfully ready to erect a hopeful superstructure. -He knew her outward appearance so well--the perfect figure, the small -head poised on the slender neck, the delicate nose, the little mouth, -the masses of dark hair which curled in rings on the white forehead -and were piled above it in the most marvellous waves and twists; could -it be possible that he was beginning to know Félicia herself--the -mind, heart, soul, which must naturally be equally faultless? Those -wonderful eyes, so large and dark and clear,--not the eyes of a girl, -looking out wistfully on life half in hope and half in fear, but of a -woman who feels that happiness is her right and intends to have -it,--were they beginning to soften for him--for him? Oh, the bliss of -the thought, that those frank eyes might one day fall before his, that -Félicia might own that she loved him! - -There was the sound of a footstep in the corridor of the railway -carriage, and Usk snatched at his paper hurriedly, and began to study -it with all his might, holding it up so as to hide his face. When he -thought the intruder had passed on, he ventured to lower his screen, -only to meet the mocking, not unkindly gaze of a tall lank man who was -leaning against the inner doorway, evidently waiting for him to look -up. - -“I would bet my bottom dollar that I could state right now what you -are thinking of,” said the newcomer slowly. - -“Oh, it’s you, Hicks! Didn’t know you were a thought-reader.” - -“I don’t begin to be one, sir. You gave yourself away, you see.” Mr -Hicks’s gaze rested on the paper, and Usk flushed quickly as he -perceived that it was upside-down. But there was no use in being -dignified with Hicks, and he yielded the position with a laugh. - -“I suppose you’re on your way home by the new route?” he said lightly, -seeking safety in flight from the original subject. “I’m just running -down to Llandiarmid for a day or two to see my people.” - -“Is that so?” drawled Mr Hicks. “A rare and beautiful thing is family -affection, any way! But I guess London licks the country this fall, -doesn’t it?” - -“It has been a good deal pleasanter this year than usual,” agreed Usk. - -“I admire to see a young man open and candid, sir. Have you got any -more acquainted with the Steinherzes yet?” - -“You are nothing whatever but a good Inquisitor spoilt! I have seen a -certain amount of them.” - -“And so far as one of the party is concerned, it’s pretty generally -concluded that to see her is to--you know how it goes along? But maybe -you are an exception?” - -“Really, a man can’t call his innermost feelings his own when you’re -anywhere about, Hicks.” Mr Hicks nodded approvingly. “But after all, -it was you that introduced me to her, and I’ll make you a present of -the information, which you have probably guessed already, that I am -going home to have a business talk with my father.” - -Mr Hicks nodded again, and Usk, whose tongue seemed to have been -loosed by his first admission, went on-- - -“There are times, you know, when a man feels he has to pay rather dear -for the virtues of his family. It’s quite delightful, of course, to -know that no landowner in South Wales does more for his tenants than -my father, but the worst part of it is that it leaves so awfully -little for us to live upon.” - -“Don’t go around worrying over that,” said Mr Hicks soothingly. “The -good American girl regards it as her mission these days to shore up -the tottering British coronet with her dollars.” - -“It’s her father I’m thinking of,” lamented Usk. “How can one go to a -man and say, ‘Mr Steinherz, I love your daughter, and if you are -prepared to hand her over rather more millions than I have hundreds a -year, I daresay we shall get on very comfortably’?” Miss Steinherz’s -prospective fortune was understood, be it remarked, to be of such -satisfactory dimensions as to suffer no appreciable diminution even by -reduction to English figures. - -“If that’s all,” was the dry reply, “you can just go right away to J. -Bertram Steinherz, and say those identical words. Why, sir, your -request is real moderate. I guess an ordinary French or German count -would have his father-in-law hand over that same pile of dollars, and -rebuild his family castle, and take his crown out of pawn as well, -before he would conclude to make a trade. Then he would invite the -bride to embrace his religion, and when everything was fixed up -according to his notions, he would intimate to the father-in-law that, -much as he respected him as a dollar-grinding machine, he guessed he -would be conscious of more real, whole-souled pleasure in the -partnership if he could regard him as a fixture in the States for the -future.” - -“I can’t fancy Mr Steinherz standing that sort of thing. He’s -not--not----” - -“Don’t quite look the part of the ordinary heavy father from the -States?” said Mr Hicks quickly, as Usk hesitated. “That is so, sir. He -doesn’t incline to play it, either.” He stopped abruptly. - -“That’s it. He is so awfully dignified and polite that I feel as if I -should sink into the ground when I think of going to him with an offer -that must strike him as such arrant cheek. Do you know, Hicks, that he -and Miss Steinherz came to the Duchess of Old Sarum’s reception after -all? I got them a card, but Mr Steinherz was so high and mighty about -accepting that I felt horribly small.” - -“J. B. Steinherz was always real high-toned in his notions. At home he -lays himself out to snub his fellow-citizens, and the smart set are -ready to kiss his boots because he is ‘so charmingly exclusive.’ Here -in England he doesn’t hold with thrusting himself into intimacy with -the British nobility, so he puts in his time at a down-town hotel, and -scorns ducal invitations.” - -“Well, I got him to Sarum House, at any rate, and every one was asking -who he was. There was one very old lady there, Mrs Sadleir, a great -friend of my people’s--knew my grandfather--who was quite smitten with -him, and wanted me to tell her who was the elderly man with the _grand -air_. When I said he was an American, she was really snappish, and -said he reminded her of some one she had known long ago. I brought him -up and introduced him, and they flirted solemnly for nearly an hour. -Afterwards Mrs Sadleir said she couldn’t place him exactly, but she -was pretty sure he must be a Southerner, for he had just the fine -manners of the men who used to come over here before the war.” - -“J. B. S. is a real white man,” said Mr Hicks emphatically. “And you -don’t need to be afraid of sailing right in, sir, so far as he is -concerned. You’ll scarcely tell me he hasn’t known why you were -loafing around all the time at his hotel. No, you may bet your boots -that it’s Miss Maimie that’s your rock ahead--honest Injun.” - -“Miss Logan? But why in the world should she have anything to do with -it?” - -“Women with a real consuming ambition on behalf of another woman are -not plenty anywhere,” said Mr Hicks slowly, “and maybe least of all in -America, but that’s how it is with Miss Maimie. She would sell her -very soul to see Félicia Steinherz make a great marriage. Why, a year -or so back she all but engineered her into marrying Prince Timoleon -Malasorte.” - -“The Neustrian Pretender?” - -“The same, sir. He was an attaché in the Scythian Embassy at -Washington those days, but you bet he meant to be emperor, same’s he -does now, and with Félicia’s dollars and her smartness back of him I -calculate he’d have got there. But J. B. S. put his foot down, and the -Embassy found itself bereaved of its brightest ornament. That’s why I -say, Watch out for Miss Maimie. Félicia won’t marry any one below a -duke if she can help it.” - -“You mean that the son of a very poor marquis hasn’t much chance, -then? But Mr Steinherz will feel that even more strongly than you do, -don’t you see?” - -“No, sir, he will not. Mushroom coronets he has no use for, but he -knows there’s nothing shoddy about you. And don’t have your natural -modesty blind you to the show side of your family record. It’s not -every poor marquis that has taken his seat on a European throne, even -for three months, or has seen his brother the wonder of four -continents and the husband of a queen.” - -“You are getting positively epic,” said Usk, his tone becoming -unconsciously more cheerful. - -“I guess my subject inspires me, sir. Any news of your uncle these -days, by the way? Not worrying himself sick, I hope?” - -“He seems well enough, but his brain-power doesn’t return.” - -“Does he incline to plunge into politics again, or has he concluded to -stick to his snug estate way back there?” - -“He is as happy there as he would be anywhere, I think. Nothing has -been said about his coming to Europe.” - -“Now it’s a curious thing,” remarked Mr Hicks meditatively, “but a -whole crowd of the Jews have their eyes fixed upon him yet. They see -that while he was boss, things went ahead, but when he dropped out, -the outfit went to smash right away. Well, they suspicion that he was -intrigued off the stage by the millionaires, so they just incline to -intrigue him back there. They are plotting to fix things so’s they can -invite him along again. The Prince of the Captivity, they call him, -after some old cuss that hung out his sign in those parts sometime, -and they have passwords and ciphers, and every requisite of a properly -equipped plot on the largest scale.” - -“I’m afraid they’ll be disappointed. He won’t let them thrust him into -a position that he could not fill with satisfaction to himself.” - -“They’ll just have to invite you to operate the scheme instead of -him.” - -“Ah, I might have thought of it once,” said Usk, with a seriousness -which tickled Mr Hicks extremely, “but of course things will be -different now, if----” he laughed, not unhappily. “A year or two ago I -was mad to get out into the world and do something big. I often wish I -had gone into the army, even now.” - -“Well, now, I thought you gave that up nobly because your mother was -breaking her heart over it? But maybe you’ve been busy taking the -shine off the sacrifice ever since--sort of ‘If I mayn’t do what I -like, I won’t do anything’?” - -“Every one isn’t a born social reformer, like my mother,” said Usk, -somewhat coldly. Then his face cleared. “But very likely I shall go -into Parliament now, and that will please her tremendously.” - -“And you think it will please another person as well, maybe?” - -“Yes, I’m sure it will. She made me feel awfully ashamed one day when -she said how she envied people of our class in England, who could find -any number of followers any day if only they cared to lead. She -couldn’t make out how we could throw away our opportunities and not -lead, she said.” - -“Félicia Steinherz among the prophets!” said Mr Hicks drily. “And you -have hoarded the remark to repeat it to Lady Caerleon, because you -calculate that will please her tremendously too? Well, go ahead and -get there! Ask me to the wedding. If you cable right away when you get -things fixed, I’ll find it waiting for me when I arrive home.” - -He rose to continue his exploration of the train, and Usk fished a -scrap of paper out of his pocket, and devoted himself once more to the -abstruse calculations with which it was covered. It was his earnest -desire to be able to prove to Mr Steinherz that if he married -Félicia, her fortune might be entirely reserved for her own use, but -the facts were against him. Even if the family house in town, which -had until lately been let on a long lease, were made over to him, it -would be utterly beyond his father’s power to give him enough to keep -it up, even with the most rigorous carefulness. The family at -Llandiarmid were accustomed to save--to pinch, Usk called it--but he -was conscious of sudden disgust for his own selfishness when he -pictured the further economies that would be necessary if his -allowance was to be increased. And for what? To allow him to live in -luxury without wounding his pride by touching Félicia’s money! There -would be no rigid economy in Félicia’s household, he knew that well -enough. If she wished for a thing, she ordered it, regardless of the -cost, although a curious strain of shrewdness sometimes showed itself -in the ardour with which she would pursue a discount of a few pence on -a bill of many pounds. He had vivid recollections of the boxes which -had accompanied her and Miss Logan on their return from a flying visit -to Paris about a fortnight ago, and the calm way in which they had -mentioned what seemed to him the fabulous sums paid for a single gown -or toque. Decidedly, a household which included Félicia would be an -expensive outfit to run, as Mr Hicks had once put it. - -Usk had learnt something of this by personal experience. From the day -when he first made the delightful discovery that Transatlantic -etiquette permitted him to give expression to his feelings by -presenting offerings at the shrine of his goddess, he had taken full -advantage of his privileges. Félicia accepted the offerings with -perfect calmness, but Usk felt a thrill of pride, which to an outside -observer might have had something pathetic in it, in the fact that he -was obliged to cut down his personal expenses in order to provide -them. It was very foolish, no doubt; the sensible course would have -been to obtain his gifts on credit, but with a touch of quixotry he -chose rather to deny himself that he might keep his love supplied with -the marvellous candies and rare flowers which she regarded as -necessaries of life. She possessed a cultured palate and the eye of a -wealthy connoisseur, and Usk went so far as to give up smoking when he -was alone, and had even cherished thoughts of travelling third class. -But in that case he could not have enjoyed in peace the delight of -thinking about Félicia, and his heroism failed him when it came to -the point. - -It was not unnatural that Miss Steinherz should also be thinking of -him this evening, for the floor of her bedroom was strewn with the -leaves and stalks and petals of the last roses he had sent her. They -were the very newest roses, the blossoms of a curious coppery-pink -tinge, and Usk had paid a fabulous price for them on his way to the -station. Miss Logan remarked slightingly on them when the maid had put -them in water, and Félicia threw one at her. She returned it, and the -mimic battle was continued until not a single rose remained on its -stalk. Flushed and laughing, the girls desisted, and presently -Félicia sent away the maid and allowed her friend to brush her hair, -while she herself performed certain mysterious operations on her -finger-nails, with the aid of the contents of a dainty gold-mounted -morocco case. - -“Is it Monday or Tuesday that we dine Lord Usk?” she asked lightly, -with a sudden upward glance. - -“It’s Usk--Usk--all the time!” was the impatient answer. - -“Not just all the time,” said Félicia sweetly, “but I guess it soon -will be.” - -“Félicia Steinherz, you make me tired!” - -“Now don’t get mad, Maimie. If a duke had come along, I’d have married -him, as I’ve stated times and times, but, you see, that duke hasn’t -materialised, and Lord Usk is right here.” - -“I’d have had you marry an emperor,” said Maimie Logan, through her -teeth. - -“And I’m real grateful to you, but the emperor didn’t rise to the -occasion either, did he? I admired to see his affections just wilt -when pappa said he wouldn’t give me a red cent if I married him. I was -done with him then, but if he’d had the grace to stick to me, you bet -pappa would have weakened at last. It was a pity, for I feel I have it -in me to care more for an emperor than any other man, because he’d -really have given me something to be grateful for.” - -“Well, don’t accept Lord Usk in such a tearing hurry. There are dukes -left yet, and princes too.” - -“Why, certainly, but you haven’t looked all around this thing, Maimie. -You had better make up your mind that pappa isn’t going to give me any -more chances of meeting those dukes and princes than he can help.” - -“I want to know! Why not?” - -“Just listen to me, and ask yourself. Since I was ’most a baby, I’ve -known that some way my folks were different from other girls’ fathers -and mothers. I guess it was pappa’s high-toned manners, and mamma’s -never having more than half a voice in her own house; and you know as -well as I do, though we don’t have other people see it, what an icy -terror pappa can be yet when he likes. Why, we wouldn’t be here if he -could have helped it.” Maimie smiled grimly at this allusion to the -circumstances attending their departure for England. Mr Steinherz, -summoned suddenly to London on the business of his Euphrates -Syndicate, had telegraphed to his daughter that he was leaving New -York by the next day’s boat. Félicia, who had for years demanded a -visit to Europe in vain, was touched in her tenderest point. Telegrams -flashed backwards and forwards, and when Mr Steinherz went on board, -the first person he saw was his daughter, holding a farewell reception -of her fashionable friends, with Maimie and a maid and a marvellous -pile of luggage in the background. - -“Yes, we fixed things pretty smartly that time,” pursued Félicia; -“but he has played it awfully low down on us since, Maimie. I think -it’s real mean of him to bring us along to this hotel, where there are -only dowdy English people, and not let us go to the Continent at all, -except that two days in Paris. And to have us decline all of those -invitations that Lord Usk would have got us!” - -“But he hasn’t been ugly, Fay, as he might have been. And when you -think of some girls’ folks----” - -“Oh, I know. Why, there’s Sadie van Zyl, in the smartest set here and -the very toniest society everywhere--what she must suffer when she has -to produce either her husband or her father! I don’t wonder she has a -nerve-attack most times, and goes off to some cure or other.” - -“Well, now, you need never feel badly like that, you know.” - -“That’s so, but then I never have the chance of exhibiting pappa. I -should admire to have him go with us to all sorts of places, but he -won’t. Now, Maimie, if those Van Rensselaer girls knew just this, what -would they say? Why, that there was some reason why he didn’t care to -show himself in Europe. That may be so, or it may not; I don’t choose -to inquire, but I incline to think that he settled in the States -because he had taken a hand in some political game, and it didn’t -eventuate just the way he hoped it would. Whatever the mystery was, -your mother was in it, but not your father.” Maimie nodded. “Then -we’ll take that as understood, and you’ll see I have to hoe my own -row. Now Lord Usk is real nice to pappa, and from all we hear I don’t -see but pappa will think his folks just lovely. So I’m on.” - -“Wait, just wait!” entreated Maimie. “Don’t go ahead so fast.” - -“Now, Maimie, you’re going to give up all of this foolishness--see? -I’m watching out for an investment in real estate, and here’s Lord Usk -just hungering to be developed. I shall have him run for -Parliament--it’s quite a toney thing to do here--and then I’ll push -him up step by step.” - -“He’ll turn ugly,” prophesied Maimie. “He just loves the country----” - -“Maimie Logan, are you going to tell me I don’t know how to fix things -any way I want them? He will stay in town when I choose, and take me -abroad when I choose, and go way down into the country when I let him. -Say, Maimie, don’t yank all of my hair right out!” - -“You are forgetting his folks. I don’t see but you’ll have trouble -with them.” - -“They won’t trouble me any. The old lord and lady won’t be encouraged -to come around much in town. I guess their influence wouldn’t be -helpful.” - -“Why, Fay Steinherz, I’m sure they’re real good, from what he -says--church members and all that.” - -“I’m not running him for church elder, Maimie. Lord Caerleon is just a -Temperance crank, and the old lady never put on a Paris gown nor -attended a smart function in her life. And they’re not smiled upon in -the really good set because of those Eastern adventures they have on -hand all the time. I have some use for the uncle Mr Hicks talks about, -that married some queen or other, but that’s different. Of course I’ll -visit at the Castle, and ask people there for shooting-parties and -that. One must be in the country some time, I suppose. I wonder if -there’s a dower-house, or whatever they call it in books? If there is, -I guess the old folks might be brought to see the propriety of -retiring to it, and leaving the Castle to us.” - -“You seem to have got everything fixed up pretty nicely.” - -“That is so. This outfit will be run on strict business lines, you’ll -see. Pappa has me start under a disadvantage by his unfatherly -conduct, but I wipe that out by marrying Usk. Then all depends on -myself, and I can’t afford to have sentiment spoil my plans. I’ll see -myself a duchess or _vicereine_ of India yet.” - - - - - CHAPTER II. - BORN IN THE PURPLE. - -Usk was late in keeping his dinner engagement with the Steinherzes. -It was not his fault, as he explained eagerly when he arrived; he had -left Llandiarmid at an unearthly hour in the morning, to make sure of -catching the early train from Aberkerran, and had got up to town in -excellent time. It was when he was driving from his rooms to the hotel -that the delay occurred. The Archduke Ferdinand Joachim, cousin to the -Emperor of Pannonia, who had just arrived on a visit to England, was -being conducted in state to Buckingham Palace, and the British public -had turned out in full force to welcome him. The royal carriages and -liveries, and the fact that a popular Prince had gone to meet the -traveller, made it evident that this was an occasion for cheering, and -accordingly dense crowds lined the route, to the dire interruption of -the traffic at all the cross-roads, in one of which Usk sat fuming in -his hansom. - -“Well, you must have had a pretty good view of the royalties, any -way,” said Maimie Logan. - -“Oh yes, but I had no particular yearning for that. I have seen the -Prince so often, you know, and I didn’t care about the other chap. But -I wished you and Miss Steinherz had been there. It’s a chance you -don’t often get at this time of year.” - -“What is the Archduke like, now?” asked Mr Steinherz suddenly. “You -would be able to see him distinctly?” - -“Quite.” Usk turned to his host with ready deference. “A fair-sized -man, I should say--looks as though he had been born in uniform, as all -those Germans do. Hair brushed straight back, rather _à la_ -scrubbing-brush, as far as I could see, big pince-nez, a sort of -nondescript brown moustache, with the points turned up fiercely. I -think that must have been dyed, though, for his hair was grey behind.” - -“Yes,” said Mr Steinherz meditatively, “he is pretty well along--older -than I am. He was in Venetia in the ’Sixties--made his name there. And -it wasn’t a particularly sweet name, either. I guess a good few -Italians have unfulfilled vows of vengeance out against him yet.” - -“Say, pappa!” broke in Félicia; “how did you get to know that much -about a no-account German prince?” - -“Well, daughter, I don’t see but I must have heard it from the Italian -clerk I had once,” was the leisurely reply, which silenced Félicia -for the time, since she knew well enough that the clerk in question -had been dismissed for falling in love with his employer’s daughter. -Maimie, always watchful on her friend’s behalf, changed the subject, -and it was not until the meal was over that her efforts to keep the -peace failed. Usk had been anxious to escort the ladies this evening -to a concert at which some bright particular star was announced to -appear, but Mr Steinherz vetoed the proposal rather summarily, -regardless of his daughter’s rebellious looks. Most unjustly Félicia -made Usk suffer for her disappointment, sitting bored and silent all -evening, and sweeping Maimie off to bed at a ridiculously early hour, -on the plea of a headache. Maimie offered no objection to the -imperious summons, but took occasion to drop her handkerchief just -outside the sitting-room door. Returning to fetch it as soon as -Félicia was safe in her own room, she heard Usk taking his leave. - -“May I call upon you in the morning?” he asked of Mr Steinherz. “I -should like---- There is---- I want to ask you something.” - -“State it right now,” was the unexpected answer. “I am having a -vacation this evening, thanks to Félicia’s nervous attack.” - -Maimie shook with silent laughter, for she guessed that Usk found some -difficulty in unfolding his request now that the opportunity was thus -suddenly thrust upon him. He muttered something about “Very -important,” to which Mr Steinherz responded by a cordial invitation to -discuss the matter in his office, where they would be safe from -interruption. The room was a small one, with one door from the -corridor into which all the apartments of the Steinherzes’ suite -opened, and another from the sitting-room, and in it Mr Steinherz -spent most of his time, and received all his business visitors, in an -atmosphere of smoke. Maimie reviewed the position swiftly, as she -heard the door between the study and the sitting-room close with a -decisive slam. Félicia was fortunately in the hands of her maid by -this time, and the brushing of her hair alone might be relied upon to -keep her occupied for an hour at least, but it was out of the question -to listen at the door in the corridor, for the hotel servants were -constantly passing. Moreover, if the discussion were to be conducted -in lower tones, it would be very difficult to hear it through the -door. The only hope was the balcony, upon which the windows of both -rooms looked, and Maimie opened the sitting-room door very softly, -leaving it slightly ajar so as to afford a way of escape, and crossing -the room on tiptoe, put her head out cautiously. As she had expected, -the warmth and beauty of the night had tempted the two men to sit at -the open window of the office, and she could see the tip of one of Mr -Steinherz’s shoes. The odour of his cigar reached her as she sat -crouched inside her own window, leaning forward as far as she dared, -and she heard him chaffing Usk upon the length of time it took an -Englishman to strike a match. Apparently the match refused to strike -at all, and Usk laid down his cigar in despair, for presently Mr -Steinherz said “Well?” in a half-authoritative, half-humorous tone -which rejoiced the listener exceedingly. - -“Mr Steinherz,” returned Usk with a sudden burst of frankness, “I love -your daughter. May I ask her to marry me?” - -Maimie thought she could imagine the quizzical glance under which the -unhappy suitor would be writhing, but she was electrified by the words -which answered him. - -“Stop right there!” said Mr Steinherz decisively. “We will take those -words as unsaid, if you please. I was not expecting them until a later -stage of the proceedings, and there are some circumstances with which -I guess you ought to get acquainted before you utter them.” - -Maimie held her breath. Her only idea had been to observe Mr -Steinherz’s treatment of this new suitor, and especially to see -whether he really favoured him, as it had struck her he did. But was -she unintentionally, and all in a moment, on the point of dispelling -the mystery upon which she and Félicia had touched in their -confidential talk? She heard Mr Steinherz rise and unlock a -table-drawer, then return, apparently with something in his hand. - -“Do you seem to know any of those faces?” she heard him ask. - -“I don’t think so,” said Usk. “Wait a minute, though. It’s an old -photograph of the Emperor of Pannonia, isn’t it?--and his brothers, I -suppose?” - -“No; his cousins, the Archduke Ferdinand Joachim and--myself.” - -From her own sensations, Maimie could imagine the bewilderment on -Usk’s face as he gazed blankly at the speaker. - -“You don’t see the likeness?” Mr Steinherz went on; “but the folks -used often mistake us three for one another. Look right in my face; I -just brush my hair back some; I turn up my moustache and hide my -beard, showing the Hohenstaufen mouth. Now do you perceive no likeness -to the Archduke as you saw him three hours back?” - -“I see! I see!” cried Usk. “But,” he added, rising and walking round -his host, “from behind you need no alteration at all. If you were in -uniform I should take you for him.” - -“Is that so?” said Mr Steinherz. “Well, you will excuse me if I resume -my usual appearance? I apprehend that if it got around there was a -double of the Archduke staying at the Hotel Bloomsbury, it might cause -some inconvenience. And now, do you incline to hear the circumstances, -or not?” - -“There’s nothing I should like better. I don’t know whether I’m -standing on my head or my heels.” - -Maimie could picture Mr Steinherz’s grim smile. “Did you ever hear of -Prince Joseph of Arragon?” he asked. - -“I seem to know the name,” said Usk meditatively. “Yes, wasn’t it the -man who ran off with an--a lady and was lost at sea, twenty or thirty -years ago?” - -“Who was supposed to have been lost at sea,” corrected Mr Steinherz -impressively. “As a matter of fact, he is sitting opposite you now.” - -“Oh--er--I beg your pardon,” stammered Usk. - -“Your remark was natural. There is now only one other person besides -yourself who knows the truth. In the Schlosskirche at Vindobona I -understand there is a cenotaph to the memory of José Maria Beltran, -Prince of Arragon, drowned off the Australian coast in the wreck of -his yacht, the Claudine, but Joseph Bertram Steinherz could give the -lie to that statement if he chose.” - -“You escaped from the wreck, I suppose, and took advantage of the -general belief to disappear--sir?” hazarded Usk. - -“Not just exactly; but I will tell you all of the story. But, first, -remember that you are on your honour not to breathe a word of what I -tell you to any living creature, especially to my daughter; and again, -don’t make a prince of me. I have turned my back on all of that for -ever.” - -Usk bowed uneasily, as Maimie could just distinguish from where she -crouched. She was completely shielded from the sight of Mr Steinherz, -although she had ventured to creep out on the balcony, and was now -close to them, her black gown indistinguishable in the darkness. Even -if Usk should chance to turn his head, she believed that she was quite -safe, and could retreat into her own window in a moment. - -“You will know,” said Mr Steinherz, “that my father, King Paul X. of -Cantabria, was driven from his throne in ’48. When I was born he was -already an exile at the Court of Vindobona. His mother was a Pannonian -archduchess, and the two houses had always been united by the closest -bonds. He received at the hands of his cousin the Emperor the honours -due to a reigning monarch, and on his death it was only at Vindobona -and the Vatican that my brother Ramon was recognised as titular King -of Cantabria. Ramon is a man of science and a philosopher, however, -and in daily life he contents himself with the older and undisputed -title of Prince of Arragon. My mother was a princess of Weldart--an -aunt of the lady who has already linked your family and mine by -marrying your uncle Count Mortimer.” Maimie saw Usk move -uncomfortably, and guessed that he was trying, in a dazed kind of way, -to discover whether the connection thus disclosed between himself and -Félicia need be any bar to their marriage. The same idea had come to -herself with a thrill of hope, but she saw its absurdity in a moment. -Mr Steinherz had risen from his chair and was walking about. - -“I cannot speak calmly when I think of my mother,” he went on. “For -political reasons, which means, in plain English, her brother’s need -of money, she was married to my father as a child of seventeen, after -being summarily converted for the purpose. Needless to say, her -consent was not asked to either process. She made him an excellent -wife, and if he had taken her advice, it would, I believe, have -averted the revolution which cost him his throne; but on account of -her German and Protestant upbringing she was always looked upon with -distrust, and my father himself shared it. So strongly did she -disapprove of the perpetual intrigues by which he sought to regain his -kingdom after losing it, that soon after my birth an amicable -separation was arranged, without giving rise to any scandal. My mother -retired with me to an estate on the Adriatic, where my father and -brothers visited us occasionally, and I was sometimes conducted, much -against my will, to Vindobona, which my mother, on the plea of -ill-health, always avoided, and from which I always returned to her -with increasing joy. As I grew older her one fear was that I might be -taken from her, and to escape this she proposed that I should be -entered as a student at the naval academy of the great dockyard and -arsenal which lay not far from us. Though all my training hitherto had -been military, it was the sea to which my own heart turned, and I -don’t know whether my mother or I was the more rejoiced when I was -allowed to follow my bent. For several happy years I worked hard at -the mysteries of shipbuilding--much harder than suited my superiors -and companions, who would have preferred to see me placed in some post -of nominal authority, where I should not trouble them. Several times -it was suggested that I should be appointed to a sea-going ship, and -sent on a long cruise, but my mother’s piteous entreaties--she humbled -herself to my father and the Emperor in her agony at the thought of -losing me--and my own absorption in my work, which seemed likely to be -productive of great advantage to the navy in future, gained me a -respite. One of the complaints against me was that I withdrew myself -from the society of companions of my own age. It did not occur to my -accusers that in my leisure hours I had the constant society of a -woman who had read widely, thought deeply, and suffered much, and that -this had quite spoiled me for the company of the class of men I met -every day. I always look back to my twenty-third year as the period of -my greatest happiness--perhaps in contrast with the dark time which -followed. A legacy had come to me from a godfather when I was -twenty-one, and I spent the greater part of it in building a large -steam-yacht from my own designs. Some of my relations looked askance -at such waste of money, but the Emperor, finding that the yacht was -intended to test various inventions of my own in naval matters, was -pleased with my interest in my profession, and encouraged me. I called -the yacht the Claudine, after my mother, and spared no pains to make -her the smartest and most seaworthy craft of her size afloat. When she -was finished we tested her in all weathers. I had a crew enrolled from -among the fishermen with whom I had made friends as a boy, and my -mother was always my passenger. Only one of her ladies cared for the -sea, and she made her her constant companion on these trips. Aline von -Hartenweg was young, beautiful, enthusiastic, devoted to my mother, -devoted to the sea--is it any wonder that an attachment sprang up -between us? We were so happy, so thoroughly contented with our life, -that we did not ourselves perceive the chief cause of our happiness. -Others saw it before we did, notably the chaplain at the Castle, whom -my mother always suspected of being placed as a spy upon her. -Presently a furious letter from my father announced that he was coming -to put an end to this foolishness, and to send me off on a three -years’ cruise. My mother had long been suffering from a mortal -disease, but I shall never believe that she might not have lived for -years, if she had been left in peace. As it was, the shock, and the -realisation of the truth, were too much for her, and when the King -arrived he found her on her deathbed. She had poured out her soul to -me on the subject of Aline, assuring me that the marriage would never -be allowed, that our attachment could only cause misery and -contention, and adjuring me to go abroad as my father wished, unless I -felt that my life’s happiness was bound up in Aline. I assured her -that it was, and her last words to my father, who could not in decency -refuse to hear them, were a petition that we might be allowed to -marry. Then she died.” - -Mr Steinherz came to a standstill at the window, and stood looking -with unseeing eyes at the starry sky overhead, the rustling black -plane-trees in the square far below, surrounded by their ring of -lamps, the low dark houses beyond. Maimie hid her face lest its -whiteness should betray her. - -“My father was less angry than his letter had prepared me to expect,” -Mr Steinherz went on. “He could not but disapprove most strongly of my -choice, he said, and would promise nothing as to the future, but if I -would consent to make a voyage round the world at once, giving my word -not to hold any communication with the Countess Aline while I was -away, he would see what could be done on my return. I murmured at the -harshness of the stipulation, reminding him that my brother Florian -had been permitted to marry Princess Erzsebet Mohacsy, who was not of -royal blood; to which he replied, with the cynical brutality he -sometimes affected, that she brought a princedom as the price of the -alliance, whereas my poor Aline’s father could barely give her a -dress-allowance. I yielded. My mother’s entreaties to me not to come -to an open breach with my father were still in my ears, and I could -not see anything better to do. I was appointed to one of the largest -Pannonian men-of-war, and I did not dislike the cruise. When I had -been away two years, the news of my brother Florian’s death recalled -me hastily to Vindobona, and I found Aline--married. What pressure -they had brought to bear on her, what lies they had told her about me, -I do not know and did not ask; but she was married to a rough fellow -called Baron Radniky--a noble, it is true, but the very type of a -churlish, bigoted reactionary. I had a terrible scene with my father -when I learned the truth, and I swore I would remain in Pannonia no -longer. I would cast aside my rank, as I had intended to do if I -married Aline, and go out into the world a free man. He laughed in my -face when I said this, and as soon as I was outside the room I found -myself under arrest. For weeks I was a State prisoner inside the -palace,--I, who was accustomed to freedom and an active life,--and at -the end of that time my relations thought they could deal with me. The -Emperor patched up a reconciliation with my father, and I was allowed -my personal liberty, but forbidden to leave Vindobona. All the people -round me were spies--my cousins the Archdukes, the servants, the gay -young men who were set on to divert my mind. I saw there was no hope -of escape at present, and I allowed myself to seem resigned. Aline -lived far away in the country. She had passed out of my life, and for -that I was thankful. But the vicious idleness of my surroundings I -could not endure, and at last I obtained leave to set up a laboratory -in my father’s gardens, at a safe distance from the palace, in order -to continue my scientific experiments. Here again the Emperor stood my -friend, and even allowed me to send for my foster-brother, Martin -Richter, and install him as my assistant. It was supposed that he did -all the menial work of the laboratory; but my relations would indeed -have been astonished if they had seen prince and peasant labouring -together, for he knew as much of the theoretical part of the work as I -did, and in the practical part we relieved one another.” - -“And this was all a blind?” Usk ventured to ask, as a smile, called up -by his recollections, crept over Mr Steinherz’s face. - -“It was all done with a purpose, and when by-and-by I was allowed to -run down to the Adriatic for more important experiments on board the -Claudine, though the limit of my stay was strictly fixed, I knew my -time was at hand. But before it arrived something happened which -changed the whole character of my flight. In her lifetime my mother -had befriended a young girl, the last descendant of a noble, but -poverty-stricken, family of Weldart. As a child, Konstantia von -Lilienkranz had shown extraordinary talent in several directions, and -her own intense desire was to go upon the stage. My mother dissuaded -her from this, but sent her, at her own expense, to a famous -conservatorium, where her musical gifts might be cultivated, intending -to find her a post as Court pianist when she grew up. Her death left -the poor girl friendless, for she knew too well the light in which her -patroness had been regarded by the members of the Imperial family to -seek help from them. The variety of her talents had created quite a -sensation at the conservatorium, and admiring professors and -fellow-students had done so much to spread her fame that she was -actually offered an engagement to play _ingénue_ parts at a leading -Vindobona theatre, while a great _maestro_ volunteered to train her to -sing in grand opera. Remembering the wishes of her patroness, she -refused both offers, and had the courage to strike out for herself in -a new line--as a society entertainer, you would call it, I suppose. -She gave a series of concerts at which she herself, either as singer, -reciter, or instrumentalist, supplied all the items, and the idea was -so new and daring that she was the sensation of the moment in the -capital. This was soon after I had been allowed a little more freedom. -I was anxious to show an interest in my mother’s _protégée_, and -went to hear her play several times. I sent her bouquets, and asked to -be presented to her, the girl receiving the attentions, as they were -offered, purely as marks of kindness from the son of her patroness. -But the censorious world thought otherwise, as I ought to have -remembered would be only too likely in the case of a woman in her -position. My cousins met me with meaning looks, and congratulated me -on my conquest. ‘The stony-hearted Stanzerl,’ as the gilded youth of -Vindobona called her, had stepped down from her pedestal, so they -hinted. The cessation of my attentions might have ended the scandal as -regarded myself, but the whispers had reached her. One day the old -woman, half-attendant, half-duenna, who lived with her, came to me -privately to beg me not to show any further interest in her charge, -who was in the deepest distress owing to the reports spread concerning -her. I was horrified and disgusted. That I should have brought this -anguish upon my mother’s favourite! Impulsively I wrote off to my -brother Florian’s widow, whom I knew to have the kindest heart in the -world, telling her what I had reason to belief was the case, that -Fräulein von Lilienkranz found the strain and publicity of her life -very trying, and would be most thankful to exchange it for a more -sheltered one. Would not my sister-in-law find room for her in her -household, even if only as instructor in music to her year-old -daughter? I waited impatiently for the answer. Princess Florian wrote -in evident distress of mind. She would have been delighted to befriend -any one in whom my mother had been interested, but in this case she -had been _warned_--deeply underlined--that it would be _wiser_ not to -take any step, and she _could_ not disregard the warning. I was -perplexed and disappointed, but I could not give up my plan so easily. -I ran down to my sister-in-law’s estates on a visit--having duly -obtained leave--and asked her point-blank why she would not help -Fräulein von Lilienkranz. With the utmost difficulty I extracted from -her that in view of the rumours connecting the young lady’s name with -mine, she could not admit her into her household. In vain I pointed -out to her that if I had unwittingly compromised the girl, my -relations might at least do what they could to clear her name, but she -was afraid of offending my father, and would do nothing. Then I saw -that there was method in what had been done. I was to be entangled in -an ordinary vulgar scandal, to keep me from rushing into an unequal -marriage. There and then I determined to turn the tables upon my -friends, and I waylaid the old duenna the next day, and with all -possible frankness took her into my confidence. I told her it was my -desire to marry Fräulein von Lilienkranz, and intrusted her with a -letter asking for an interview. The adventure pleased me; there was -something chivalrous in the idea that made me half in love with the -girl already, and when I saw her, her resistance to the notion -determined me to persist in it. She was horrified at the thought of -injuring the son of her patroness, but she was lonely and troubled, -and had learnt that a public life is not the easiest one in the world -for a good woman. I told her that I was resolved upon escaping from -Pannonia, and that if she would give up her career for my sake, we -would make a home together in the New World. I had not foreseen her -adoring gratitude, and it made me ashamed, but she consented, and I -laid my plans--quickly, you may guess, for whether I attended her -concerts or stayed away from them, tongues wagged afresh, and -Konstantia suffered a new martyrdom. I needn’t waste time in telling -you of the different failures and disappointments I had to face; let -us go on to the decisive moment. It was a cold spring evening. I had -ordered a special train to be in readiness to take me southwards at -eleven o’clock, and I had also invited a number of friends to supper -at ten, on the understanding that we were to make a night of it. You -observe that the arrangements sound slightly inconsistent?” - -“I was just thinking so,” said Usk. - -“Precisely; but then my friends knew nothing about the train, you see. -I had hinted to one of them when I invited him that after supper ‘das -Stanzerl’ would recite, and they had all got to know of it. The -meeting-place was my laboratory, suitably decorated, of course, for -the occasion, and my friends enjoyed themselves thoroughly. I was one -of themselves now, they all assured me. Even my old enemy the -chaplain, who I had insisted should be present, smiled benignantly -upon me. Konstantia, her maid, and myself were alone ill at ease, all -knowing what was at hand. When the servants had left, Konstantia gave -the promised recitation. It was a scene from some classical drama, but -I can’t tell you what it was, for I never heard a word of it. The -girl’s nerve was magnificent. She did not falter once, and at the -close I advanced towards her with the usual compliments, as if to lead -her to a seat. She placed her hand in mine, we turned and faced the -company--the priest was exactly opposite us. ‘Father,’ I said, ‘in -your presence and that of these witnesses I take this woman to be my -wife.’ All sprang up. I silenced them with a gesture, and Konstantia -repeated clearly and without hurry, ‘Before God and these witnesses, I -take this man to be my husband.’ We exchanged rings before they could -stop us, then, ‘Gentlemen,’ I said, ‘the Princess wishes to retire.’ -As I made no attempt to reach the door, they did not prevent -Konstantia and the maid from leaving the room. Furious at having been -tricked into acting as witnesses of a marriage ceremony, my cousins -and the rest stormed at me. They vowed they would keep me prisoner -until I swore that the whole thing was a joke; they even threatened to -kill me there and then. As for the priest, he menaced me with the -direst wrath of the Church, both here and hereafter. I listened to all -that they had to say, then silently revealed to them that my hand was -upon an electric button. ‘You may not be aware, gentlemen,’ I said, -‘that the vaults under this building are packed with explosives. Here -is an electric wire,’ I traced its course along the wall towards the -door, ‘communicating with them.’ There was an instantaneous, almost -mechanical movement from the neighbourhood of the door as I approached -it. ‘I am a desperate man,’ I said, with my hand on the door, ‘and if -I am interfered with, I set the current in motion. The result you can -probably imagine. Any attempt to force the door from within will -explode the mine. I wish you a very good night,’ and I was outside, -and making the door fast, before any of them had recovered from their -surprise.” - -“But was it true about the dynamite and the wire?” asked Usk. - -“There were certainly explosives in the cellar, and there was an -electric light wire which led down to it. There was also a slight -tincture of what I have since learnt to call bluff.” Mr Steinherz -smiled genially. - -“You must have been an awfully cool hand!” - -“Coolness was needed in our circumstances. I calculated that we had -nine hours’ grace at the outside. The laboratory was in a secluded -part of the garden, the servants had been sent to bed, and the walls -and door were strong. The only windows were in the roof. Unless any -accident happened, my friends were safe until they were missed in the -morning, and then it would take some little time to release them, and -organise a pursuit. But, you will say, there was the train, which -could be stopped at any point by telegraph. True, but it was Martin -Richter, disguised in my fur coat and cap, who travelled by the train, -and with him was the old nurse. We had calculated with the greatest -nicety how far he could hope to get before the telegraph was set at -work, and just before that point was reached he was to have the train -stop at a wayside station, where horses were ready. We had arranged -every imaginable expedient for baffling pursuit, and from thence he -and the old woman were to travel by unfrequented routes to a quiet bay -on my own estate, where the yacht was to be lying, having slipped out -of harbour in the night. The train was merely a blind. For Konstantia, -her maid and myself, I had procured English passports and circular -tickets--money can do much--and we joined a large personally conducted -party of returning tourists which was leaving Vindobona that night. -The two girls had gone straight to the station as soon as they left -the laboratory. The conductor was watching out for them, and added -them to his flock without the slightest fuss or mystery. I followed, -after making such changes in my personal appearance as might prevent a -chance recognition--nothing theatrical, merely precautionary touches. -We did not venture to show that we knew one another, and those hours -of terror, which were bound to elapse before the frontier was reached, -we spent in separate compartments. We crossed the frontier safely. So -far my _ruse_ was unsuspected, but I can’t describe to you the -excitement that beset me all through that journey. The approach of an -official gave me a bad half-second, for my dash for freedom might be -brought to an ignominious end at any moment. But we reached Calais, -crossed the Channel, and arrived safely at Charing Cross, without -having exchanged a word since we left Vindobona. I would not trust -even the conductor, who might afterwards put two and two together. -Konstantia knew what she had to do. We took tickets for Bradcross, a -decayed riverside suburb which had once been a great shipbuilding -centre. I knew it well, for I had explored it thoroughly on a former -visit to England--the same visit, by the way, in which I danced with -your friend Mrs Sadleir, whose husband was then in the Government, at -a ball at Trentham House--since to me its historical associations were -even more attractive than the great modern dockyards elsewhere which -had supplanted it. In that train we ventured at last to meet and -speak, to discuss our future. You will ask, perhaps, why I had not -made straight for Hamburg and America. There were two reasons. First, -if the trick with regard to the special train should be discovered, -that would be the route on which we should be looked for; and again, I -was anxious to make assurance doubly sure by being married a second -time. The ceremony in the laboratory, such as it was, though -absolutely irregular, was so far valid that nothing short of an appeal -to Rome could dissolve the marriage; but we had nothing to show for -it, and if all the witnesses conspired to deny it, we were powerless. -Moreover, Konstantia was a Protestant, and I, of course, had been -brought up a Catholic. My idea was to throw ourselves upon the mercy -of some English clergyman, explaining to him as much of our story as -was necessary, no more, and ask his advice. At Bradcross, I thought, -I could find quiet lodgings, where we might lie _perdus_ while the -hunt for us went on, for the three weeks’ residence which I understood -was required by the English law before a marriage could be solemnised. -We had to find a clergyman, a lodging, everything, and all without -exciting suspicion. Fortunately, I spoke English as travelled princes -are wont to do, fluently and without accent, and Konstantia with -readiness, while the maid, Julie Schlesinger, her foster-sister, had -picked up enough of it to find her way about. But we were a very -forlorn trio as we descended the narrow flight of filthy steps that -led down into the street from the Bradcross railroad platform, the -girls carrying their satchels, and I the cloaks of the party.” - -Mr Steinherz paused, and the slow smile crept over his face once more -as he thought of that first day of freedom. From far below came the -dull roll of traffic in the side-streets, with an occasional sharp -scraping sound as a horse stumbled on the granite roadway, while in -the square itself the approach of a hansom smote upon the ear like a -dropping fire, becoming more and more insistent, only to be lost again -suddenly in the general rumble. Maimie was listening with the -intensest interest for what was to come. She knew that her mother’s -maiden name had been Julia Slazenger, and she felt she was on the eve -of further discoveries. - - - - - CHAPTER III. - THE BURDEN OF A SECRET. - -Presently Mr Steinherz went on with his story, and Usk noticed a -subtle change in his manner of speech. Hitherto, he had spoken -“fluently and without accent,” as he had said himself, but with a -certain precision of phrase that betrayed the man to whom English was -not his native tongue; now he became by degrees the American once -more. - -“I knew Bradcross well enough to feel sure that the old parts of the -town, which had been the goal of my former rambles, were not likely to -afford any decent lodging for the girls, and as we reached the street, -I turned to the right, intending to try our fortune in the newer and -more respectable portion. But almost next door to the station there -was a lecture-room or mechanics’ institute of some sort, and a placard -on the notice-board caught my eye. It was the announcement of a -Protestant lecture the following week, the chair to be taken by the -Rev. Mr Cotton, Vicar of St Mary Windicotes. I knew the church well -and had visited it often--it was the oldest in Bradcross--and this -active controversialist promised to be the very man I needed, any way. -We retraced our steps, Konstantia and the maid following -uncomplainingly where I led, though it was evident they shrank from -the narrow squalid streets through which we had to pass to reach the -church. I knew where the clerk lived, and requested his wife to show -the ladies the building while I called on the Vicar. The good man was -at home, but at first I thought I had backed the wrong horse. He grew -stiffer and stonier at every word as I explained my position. I -learned afterwards that he had been victimised time and time again by -persons representing themselves as Catholics desirous of embracing -Protestantism, and deprived, naturally, of their former means of -livelihood. But I persevered. I was a Catholic, I told him, and had -married a Protestant against the wishes of my relations, who were -certain to have the marriage declared invalid in order to separate us. -Would he recommend us suitable lodgings, and give us his countenance -until we could be married afresh according to English law? It makes me -laugh yet when I remember how suspicious that good man was, and yet -how completely I hoodwinked him. He was clearly relieved when he -discovered that I was not in need of money, for I had been careful to -furnish myself with several hundred pounds in English gold and notes; -but he cross-questioned me most severely in order to ascertain whether -there was any other impediment to our marriage than that of religion. -Since the real state of affairs never occurred to him, naturally -enough, I was able to satisfy him, but he had the prudence to consult -his wife before surrendering finally, and she assured him that he was -being had once more. However, they concluded to interview Konstantia, -and we adjourned to the church, where we found the two poor girls, -both of them tired clean out, sitting in one of the pews while the -clerk’s wife related in a loud whisper the history of the place--of -which, as she told it, they could hardly understand a word. Our story -sounded suspicious, no doubt, but the Vicar’s wife forgot all of her -suspicions the moment she saw Konstantia. The girl looked so very -young and tired that the excellent lady was convinced of her -truthfulness on the spot, and she hadn’t talked to her but a few -minutes before she astonished us by insisting that she and Julie -should take up their quarters at the Vicarage, while a lodging would -be found for me elsewhere. Pursuit was to be baffled by the simple -device of anglicising our names, so that Konstantia became Miss -Constance Lily Garland, and I Mr Joseph Bertram (Mr Cotton advised me -unhesitatingly to drop the ‘Maria’ as a badge of Popery, and I did so -right away). There was more kindness yet in store for us. Mrs Cotton -did not think it well for betrothed people to see too much of one -another, and her husband, after inquiring into my tastes, got me a -temporary post as foreign correspondence clerk to a great shipbuilding -firm in the parish. Here I gave so much satisfaction that the firm -were good enough to offer me a permanent appointment, and when I -declined that, gave me a letter of recommendation to their -correspondents in America, which I never presented. That three weeks -at Bradcross was quite idyllic. After my day’s work, I would drop in, -evenings, at the Vicarage, which lies back of the church. You approach -it by a green gate in a high wall, and inside there is a little patch -of grass and two or three lilac-bushes. Konstantia used to be waiting -for me on the lawn, and there we would sit, never minding the smuts. -If I haven’t said much about Konstantia, don’t think it’s because -there’s nothing to say. She adored me in a real whole-hearted way, -much more than was good for me, I am sure, and never so much as looked -back regretfully at what she had given up for my sake. As for me, I -was desperately in love yet with my own magnanimity in giving up so -much for her, and her devotion pleased me. We really were perfectly -happy those evenings, until Mrs Cotton called Konstantia in, and her -husband came out to talk theology with me. I had to be stiffened up in -my new Protestant principles, you see, and if I met that good man -again, I would make him happy by assuring him that since those days I -have never entered a Catholic church, any way. Well, the three weeks -came to an end, and we were married in our English names, Julie -signing the register as Julia Slazenger, but at the Vicar’s suggestion -we all wrote our original names on the inside of the cover at the end -of the book, with a reference to the proper page, and he pasted a -piece of paper over them, so that it might be removed if there was -ever any question as to our identity. I have been sorry all the time -since that prudence obliged me to break off all relations with these -good people as soon as we left Bradcross. You see, any accident would -have enabled my family to trace us that far, so it was necessary to -start a fresh trail, and I took our passages for New York in the name -of Mr and Mrs Steinherz, without telling the Cottons of the change. -Moreover, that we might be thoroughly _demokratisch_, as suited the -country to which we were going, Julie became my wife’s friend, not her -maid. We met with no difficulty in our second journey, and I expected -none, for at my Bradcross employer’s I had read in a Pannonian paper -the interesting news that ‘Prince Joseph of Arragon has sailed in his -yacht Claudine on a foreign cruise. A vessel of the Imperial Navy has -been detailed to escort his Royal Highness.’ That meant, I knew, that -Martin Richter had done his work so well that I was believed to be on -board the yacht, and a man-of-war had been sent in chase of her. On -our voyage I fell in with a man named Logan, a shipbuilder in a small -way in Rhode Island. Community of tastes drew us together, and I -agreed to put in a week or two in his neighbourhood before settling -down elsewhere. The truth was, I was waiting for Richter, with whom I -had arranged a method of communication. As soon as I let him know -where I was, he was to dispose of the yacht, either by firing her or -running her ashore, and join me, bringing Konstantia’s old nurse with -him. But instead of Martin came the news that the yacht was really -lost with all hands. He had handled her with the most consummate -skill, baffling the pursuing warship half round the world, but through -some accident she got him cornered inside a reef in the Australian -seas, with a gale coming on. He was staunch to the end, and actually -tried to take the ship out by a passage that was practicable only for -the native canoes, and that in fine weather. She struck, of course, -and was beaten to pieces in the surf, and not a soul escaped. Our -safety was secured--at that price. For days I could settle to nothing. -In all my dreams Martin and I had worked together, and I could not -feel able to do without him. Then my wife suggested that I should pay -some attention to the hints Logan was continually throwing out. He -wanted to have me join him in the business, for he was smart enough to -see that I knew where I was when ships were in question. Besides, he -wanted to marry Julie--she was a good-looking woman, and had picked up -a lot from Konstantia--and he thought it would be pleasant if I bought -the next lot to his, and built a house on it, that our wives might not -be separated. The comicality of the idea took my fancy, and I went -into business with him. I made things hum in that shipyard, and poor -old Logan got frightened. I would go ahead in spite of all his -forebodings, and at last, at his desire, I bought him out. We were -just as friendly as ever. He was free of the yard yet, and loafed -around all day, prophesying that my ships would go to the bottom as -soon as they were off the slips; but they didn’t, and when he died he -left me his daughter’s guardian. His wife had died before that, and -Maimie became our child ’most the same as Félicia. I went on -inventing and improving, and making a pile--not because I wanted it, -but because the thing just happened. We had a boy, and he died, and -when Félicia was six years old my wife died, and I have gone on -making money and fighting to keep out of society. And now I guess I’m -through,” and Mr Steinherz laughed to see Usk’s start of surprise at -this complete and startling return to his ordinary mode of speech. - -“Then your family have actually no idea that you are alive?” - -“Not the slightest. They advertised their undying grief at my loss, -and boomed that shipwreck all it was worth, for it cleared off a -scandal in the most satisfactory way. The surprise wedding was buried -in oblivion, and when a whisper of the truth got around, it was -promptly silenced. Naturally, you couldn’t expect them allude to it on -the tablet at Vindobona, though all of the other remarks proper to the -occasion are there.” - -“And no one in America ever penetrated the secret?” - -“Just one man, and I was in deadly fear when I found it out. It was -our mutual friend Hicks. He got it in his head that I was a Hamburg -shipping clerk that the police were watching out for, who had forged -his employer’s name and eloped with his daughter, and he set to work -to trace my movements right back to my starting-point. Pretty soon he -found he was on the wrong track, and then a chance word from a friend -in Vindobona sent him flying along. The scandal, the rumoured -marriage, the escaped Prince--there it all was, and if a mysterious -hint in his paper hadn’t suddenly shown me what he was aiming at, so -that I took Konstantia along, and we just threw ourselves on his -mercy, he would have made his own fortune and the ‘Crier’s’ by -revealing all of the story. He took pity upon us and kept his mouth -shut, and he and I have been friends ever since. I have appointed him -Félicia’s trustee in case of my death.” - -“And you don’t intend to be reconciled to your family?” - -“Why should I? They are all thoroughly happy, believing me dead, and -enjoying my property. If my son had lived--well, I don’t know, but I -guess I would have laid things before him when he came of age, and -given him his choice. Florian left only a daughter behind him, and -Ramon has three, and no sons. There seems a fate against us Albrets. -If he had concluded to claim such rights as will be mine on Ramon’s -death, I daresay we could have fixed it. With the pile I can show, -there wouldn’t be much difficulty in having them recognise my -marriage. The Emperor could do it, with Ramon’s consent, and if I -greased the wheels a bit, Félicia would pretty soon be a Princess of -Arragon.” - -Maimie drew in her breath sharply. Usk spoke with some hesitation. - -“Please don’t think me officious, sir--it’s quite against myself, you -know--but do you think it is fair to keep her in ignorance--the -Princess, I mean?” - -“Miss Félicia Steinherz, you mean,” corrected Félicia’s father. “I -think it so far fair that if the Emperor, and my brother Ramon, and -all of my family, were to kneel to me to-morrow, and entreat me to -come along back, I would refuse, and forbid them to mention the -subject to her.” - -“Then you feel that your experiment was a success?” - -“I don’t pretend that I never felt the difference between the gayest -and most polite society in Europe and that of a one-horse American -coast-town, and the smart people in New York who would have liked to -welcome me with open arms as a multi-millionaire haven’t compensated -me much. But I made a determined break out of that elegant prison of -mine, just to lead my own life,--a better life, I may fairly say, than -that old one,--and if it was to do, I would do it again. A succession -of such marriages as mine might yet save the great houses with which I -have the honour to be connected; but they won’t see it so. I am glad -to have cut myself off from them.” - -“But should not Miss Steinherz know the truth?” - -“No, sir, she should not.” The words came crisply. “If I told Félicia -in the morning all of what I have told you, by the evening, prompted -by that little firebrand Maimie, she would have cabled to Vindobona, -‘What price full recognition?’ I did my best to make her as democratic -as we thought ourselves, sent her to the most typical American school -and college I could find, and she comes back with the most consuming -ambition for social distinction that I ever saw in a woman. It comes -partly from the way girls are brought up in the States--but if that -was all, it might expend itself in trampling under foot every male -creature that comes near her. It is mostly the Hohenstaufen blood -coming out. She would a million times rather be a poor relation in -Ramon’s priest-ridden household than an American heiress of no -particular birth--or so she thinks now. With so many needy archdukes -to be provided for, it would be easy enough to fix her up with a -husband, and she would be plunged back in the life from which I broke -away.” - -“But if she preferred it?” - -“I don’t take any stock in her preferences. When I concluded to -Americanise my family, Lord Usk, I guess I began a generation too -late. I should have taken myself in hand first, for I have never -acquired that subservience to my womenfolk which the true American -glories in. The neighbours set my wife down as a domestic martyr, I -believe; and I am free to confess that if she had thought less of the -honour I had done her, we might both of us have been happier. But -Félicia has grown up in full knowledge of her rights as an American -woman, and a pretty strong determination to see that she gets them; -and I will acknowledge to you that when we fall out the forces on -either side are more evenly balanced than I care about. I give my -orders and stick to them, and gain the victory that way; but the -peace-offerings afterwards come expensive. Can you wonder that I have -no particular use for a storm over this?” - -“But supposing that she should ever find out----?” - -“How’d she do it? But I have watched out for that. When she marries, -her fortune will remain in the hands of trustees, though settled -strictly on herself. If any other person, either her husband or any -member of my family, claims to get control of the money by virtue of -any family or state law, I have fixed it that all but the merest -pittance will go to the Mayor of New York for the time being in trust -for the beautifying of the city. I guess Tammany won’t have such a -chance go by, and my noble relations must just climb down.” - -“I think you are very wise,” said Usk slowly. - -“But that’s only in case she marries a foreigner. What I should fairly -admire would be to have her marry an Englishman. I thought of an -American first; but where would I find one that wouldn’t lie down and -let Félicia walk over him if there were ructions? Maybe you see now -why I have encouraged you to visit here?” - -“Because you think I could be trusted to keep Miss Steinherz in -order?” - -“Now don’t get mad. Your feelings were not just exactly a secret, you -know, from the first day you came. The actual fact is that Hicks, -knowing my wishes, brought you along that you might fall in love with -Félicia, and you did, right away.” - -“Perhaps Miss Steinherz knows your wishes too?” - -“It is my mature opinion, sir, that she does not. If she did, I -incline to think they would not stand much chance of fulfilment. But -you are on a different platform, and I am talking with you as a -business man. I would like to marry my daughter to an Englishman of -sufficiently high position to make my family think twice before they -meddled with him. You seem to me to fill the bill pretty well. So far -as I understand, you are a young man needing money and some one to -shove you along, and in marrying Félicia you would get both. I guess -that tremendous ambition of hers would justify its existence then--she -would see you Premier or die. Think it over.” - -“What is there to think about?” demanded Usk hotly. “It’s not as if -you had told me anything that could change my feelings. Félicia is -Félicia, and I can’t say more than that. I should be proud and -thankful to marry her this moment if she would have me. But supposing -the truth ever comes out, how can I face her if she asks me how I -dared to keep her in ignorance, when she might have made a far more -splendid match?” - -“How would it ever come out? You won’t tell her, Hicks won’t tell her, -I won’t tell her--and there’s no other person knows the secret. It -would need a series of most improbable coincidences to bring it to -light, any way. As things are now, you are a most suitable match for -her--rank on your side, the dollars on hers. Of course, if you are -afraid to go ahead, just because the unlikely will maybe happen, I -can’t help it.” - -“I only want to act fairly by her. If I felt she could justly reproach -me----” - -“If she does, just go down town for an hour or so, and bring her along -a bracelet when you come back,” was the unsympathetic reply. “Or it -might even run to a necklace, but you would better reserve that for a -pretty large emergency. Well, go home and think it over.” - -“I don’t want to think it over. If you will only give your consent on -condition that I keep silence, what can I do?” - -“I don’t see but you’ll have to give in,” smiled Mr Steinherz, “being -the man you are, and in your present state of high emotion.” - -“Unless you meant me to consult my father----?” - -“Not at all. I have the highest respect for your parents, but I -understand they both look at everything from a lofty moral standpoint. -They would think it my duty to do about forty million things that I -don’t incline to do, and that would tire me. No, my first reason for -telling you all of this was that it seemed playing it pretty low down -to put you in a position in which some extraordinary chance might -spring the family history on you without warning. And, of course, you -might object to mix the Plantagenet blood you Mortimers are all so -proud of with that of Albret and Hohenstaufen. You feel yourselves on -a level with the royal houses of Europe, I believe--even leaving out -of account the Continental adventures of your father and uncle, and -the new lustre they have shed upon your name?” - -“May I ask your other reasons?” asked Usk, his blood tingling at the -tone of genial sarcasm. It was clear that Mr Steinherz did not share -Mr Hicks’s enthusiasm over Count Mortimer’s marriage. - -“There’s only one, but I won’t tell you that right now. You see this -envelope? I will seal it and direct it to you, and you can open it -this day six months, or at my death. The enclosure will explain -itself.” - -Usk put the envelope into his pocket, struck by the change in his -host’s manner, but the momentary gloom passed quickly. - -“Think things over to-night, as I said. We will meet at the club -to-morrow at eleven, and you can tell me what you have concluded to -do. I have been frank with you, and I look to you to be frank with me. -And I’ll make just this one exception to your vow of silence. You may -tell all of the circumstances to your uncle, Count Mortimer, if he -should be in Europe any time. Don’t trust them to paper. He is a man -of the world, and will fix you up with the best advice. I say this -because Hicks asked me some time back to nominate him as a second -trustee, if he would consent to act. And one thing yet. If by any -grievous necessity you are forced to have the secret become public -property, face it out boldly. You would rather marry the Yankee -shipbuilder’s daughter than the morganatic daughter of a Prince of -Arragon, wouldn’t you? So I thought. Well, remember that my marriage -was not morganatic. I made it just as legal and binding every way as I -could, and there is to be no half-recognition. If Félicia is not a -Princess of Arragon, she is Miss Steinherz of Rhode Island. I leave -her mother’s name in your care. All of the proofs that you’ll need are -in Hicks’s hands--papers, portraits, little things that belonged to my -mother, the list of witnesses of the Vindobona marriage, my own sworn -and attested statement of the facts--Hicks has everything in charge.” - -“What has Mr Hicks got in charge?” asked a voice gaily as Mr Steinherz -opened the door leading into the sitting-room. Maimie stood at the -side-table, pouring out a glass of iced water from the jug which was -placed there in compliment to American tastes. Anxious to hear as much -as she could, she had found it quite impossible to escape when the -voices approached the door, and had barely succeeded in reaching the -table. - -“What are you doing here this time of night?” asked Mr Steinherz. - -“Why, I have been sitting up,” said Maimie glibly, “and I guess my -book wasn’t soothing enough. I don’t feel the least bit like going to -sleep, any way, and the water in my room is just torrid, so I -remembered this pitcher here, and came to get some.” - -She faced her guardian boldly, with bright eyes and flushed face. “I -just hope he won’t have me produce the book that proved so -interesting,” she thought, and then became aware that the glass in her -hand was shaking visibly, for the long crouching in a cramped position -had left her deadly cold. “Like must cure like!” she said to herself, -and drank off the water with a smile to Mr Steinherz. “I’d like to -have you tell Félicia that she mustn’t pass along her nerve-attacks -to me,” she added aloud. “What with her headache and that book, I’m so -nervous I could dance.” - -“Unless you have a particular wish for Lord Usk as a partner, I would -advise you to go right to your own room, and do it there,” said Mr -Steinherz, and Maimie was thankful to escape. Passing Félicia’s door, -she caught the monotonous tones of the weary maid, who was reading her -mistress to sleep, and heard also a pettish voice say, “What nonsense -you make of it, Pringle! I believe you are going right asleep. I had -just lost myself, and now you have waked me up again.” - -“Maybe I ought to go and massage her head,” said Maimie thoughtfully -to herself, “but I guess I’ll have Pringle go on suffering this once. -I want to think. If Félicia only knew! But if I told her now, the -same house wouldn’t hold her and her father. And I can’t tell Lord Usk -about it, because he knows already, nor talk about it with Pappa -Steinherz, because he would know I’d been listening, and it’s no use -thinking of making it public, because he would be fit to deny all of -the story, and I suppose it couldn’t be proved without him. When I -concluded to find out why he was so set on marrying Félicia off to -this lord, I didn’t ever expect this. It’s tremendous. -For--the--land’s--sake!” she spoke slowly and emphatically, “what a -boom I could work up if we were back in New York! But here I don’t see -I can do anything with it any way. I guess I’ll just have to save it -up in case Prince Malasorte should show his face again. I might fix -things then so’s it would fall to him to charge it on Mr Steinherz. -But what am I to say about my listening? I’m not ashamed of it a -cent--though I did feel awfully mean when he talked about his -love-affairs--but some folks would think it cast a doubt on my -evidence. What I want is some queer fact that would be likely to set -my wits to work until I puzzled out the thing for myself. But suppose -there isn’t anything really. Suppose Mr Steinherz dreamed all of the -story--suppose he has lost his mind! Oh, I can’t endure this! There -must be something right away back that I could remember, to give me -the clue I want. St Mary Windicotes! Where have I ever heard that name -before?” - -She sat for a while pondering the question, then sprang up, and -throwing open a huge trunk in a corner, plunged her arm to the very -bottom, and brought out a small old-fashioned Prayer-book. She turned -to the fly-leaf. On it were written the words, “Julia Slazenger, from -her sincere friend Marian Cotton. St Mary Windicotes Vicarage, May -18th, 18--.” - -“I knew it!” she cried, “and Aunt Connie used to tell Fay and me all -about it evenings when we were babies. We thought it must be a mean -sort of a place, but she seemed real fond of it, and I would know it -anywhere. I’ll go right there, and look up that register for myself. -Charing Cross, Mr Steinherz said--that’s somewhere down town, I -know--and Bradcross is a suburb, so I guess it can’t be far away. I’ll -take that message about Félicia’s shoes to the store myself, instead -of having Pringle go, and then I’ll go way down there without any -other person’s knowing. I _will_ find out whether it’s a dream or -not.” - - - - - CHAPTER IV. - HIT AND MISS. - -“Oh, the dear cunning things! They’re just too sweet for words!” - -Maimie was standing before the gate of St Mary Windicotes churchyard, -contemplating, with a rapt expression of ecstasy, the two huge -laurel-wreathed skulls, carved in stone, now hideously blackened with -time, which crowned the high gate-posts. The clerk’s wife, unaware -that in seeing these skulls the visitor was fulfilling one of her -dearest and creepiest early hopes, felt that the grisly objects were -not being treated with proper respect. - -“They ain’t no figures of fun, miss. It’s what we all ’ave to come -to,” she observed reprovingly. “Not but what old Mr Cowell opposite -did say, when there was a talk of takin’ of ’em down and puttin’ up -common stone balls like in their place, ‘Never a foot do I set within -the church-door again if them death’s-’eads is took down,’ says he. -‘I’ve see ’em all my life as boy and man, and the church wouldn’t be -the church without ’em.’ But there’s no call for strangers to be -a-lovin’ of ’em, but only to remember their latter end, as may be -sooner than they think.” - -They were now walking up the path, itself flagged with gravestones, -which led to the church-door, and Maimie noticed with something of a -shudder the embattled rows of monuments on either hand, of all sizes -and shapes and all manner of deviation from the perpendicular, and the -ranges of displaced stones which lined the churchyard walls. For the -moment she felt that she hated the place. How could people in their -senses have had a wedding there? It was bound to turn out badly. - -“And in that very pew there, as is now cleared away”--the clerk’s wife -was concluding with much impressiveness a speech containing valuable -historical information--“my mother see with her own eyes the great -Dook of Wellington sit hevery Trinity Monday, for to ’ear the -appointed sermon.” - -This information was generally received with bated breath by visitors -to the church, and the good woman was conscious of very natural -disgust when Maimie responded to it merely with a casual “Is that so, -really?” They had paused in the porch while the guide pointed out the -modern representative of the fateful pew, but now she led the way in -with a jangle of keys and a contemptuous sniff. Maimie devoured the -scene with eager eyes. The fine dark oak carving in the chancel, the -small oval window representing the Nativity, and the large window -above it, decorated in stripes of crude colour--she knew them all, but -there was something wanting. - -“There ought to be pictures of Moses and Aaron there!” she cried, -pointing to the chancel, “and right high up on that wall a big shadowy -picture of some old king or queen, in a great gold frame.” - -“Well, now, to think of you knowin’ that!” the clerk’s wife was -somewhat mollified; “and you must ’a been rare and small when you left -the parish, miss, for me not to remember you.” - -“I’ve never been here in my life before, but I heard all about the -church in America,” said Maimie breathlessly. “What’s come to the -pictures?” - -“Why, Moses and Aaron is there still, miss, hid out of sight behind -that there bed-furniture, as I calls it--and as like as two peas to my -aunt’s best bed, as lived out Earlham way,” pointing to an elaborate -curtain behind the communion-table. “That’s the new Vicar’s -doin’”--Maimie felt her heart sink--“and her Majesty Queen Hann and -the Royal Harms is both took down and made away with--despisin’ of -dignities, as we’re told shall be.” - -“But the registers are here yet, I suppose? and I can see about this -marriage, any way?” asked Maimie anxiously, for the clerk was coming -up the church, unorthodox corduroys marring the effect of his -professional black coat. She had discovered from a board over his door -that he was an undertaker in a small way on week-days, and it had been -necessary to send a boy to summon him, while his wife led the way to -the church. - -“Oh yes, miss. No one can’t do nothing to them. Here’s Clegg just -a-comin’. You step this way,” and Maimie was ushered into the vestry, -a small room panelled throughout in dark oak. Light was admitted by -two windows close under the ceiling, and the decorations were confined -to a table of the Degrees of Affinity, and another, quite as long and -a good deal more complicated, of burial fees. Presently the clerk -arrived, and opened a huge safe built in the thickness of the wall and -masked by the wainscoting. - -“What might be the year of the marriage you was wishin’ to find, -miss?” he asked, and Maimie noticed that the woman looked suspiciously -at her when she answered. She had determined that she would give no -clue to her identity, in case some evil chance should lead Mr -Steinherz to revisit the church, but she foresaw that it might be -difficult to maintain this reticence. - -“And ’ave you any idea what part of the year would be likely, miss?” -asked the clerk again, selecting a volume and laying it upon the -table. - -“May, somewhere near the 18th,” was the reply, greeted with a gasp by -the clerk’s wife. - -“And the names, miss? There was a good few weddin’s just about that -time.” - -“Joseph Bertram to Constance Lily Garland.” Maimie’s voice was shaking -a little, but her excitement was nothing to that of the clerk’s wife. - -“Now you just tell me who you are,” she said resolutely, interposing -her substantial person between Maimie and the register. “You ain’t -neither of them two foreign young ladies, that I’m certain, and you -won’t tell me as you’re Mrs Bertram’s daughter--Miss Garland as was? -What have you got to do with it?” - -“My mother was at the wedding, and signed the register,” Maimie -admitted. - -“Then you ain’t got nothink to do with Mr Bertram’s family?--though -why they should think to interfere at this time of day beats me.” - -“’Ere it is, miss,” said the clerk. “Joseph Bertram to Constance Lily -Garland, by the Vicar, May 19th. Do you wish a copy?” - -Moving aside unwillingly, the woman allowed Maimie to approach the -table. There was no question of a dream or hallucination here, at any -rate. There was the entry, and as Maimie turned over the pages, there -also was the slight discoloration of the inside of the cover which -showed where a slip of paper had been pasted upon it. She ran her -finger along the line, and resisted an eager desire to try and tear -the slip off. When the clerk asked again whether she would like a -certified copy of the entry, she was obliged to pause before -answering. Without the addition which that piece of paper held -concealed, the certificate was of comparatively little value; and yet, -supposing that by some accident or otherwise the church should be -destroyed and the register with it, might not the copy just suffice to -establish the marriage? Knowing nothing of Somerset House and its -requirements, Maimie saw herself the _dea ex machinâ_ in the -restoration of Mr Steinherz to his original position, and replied -unhesitatingly that she would have a copy. While the clerk was making -it out, she stood looking with a vague awe at the pile of registers -remaining in the safe. Was there still among those dusty volumes with -their ragged edges the one which, as Mrs Steinherz had told with bated -breath, contained records of many burials distinguished by the letters -“Pl.,” denoting a victim of the Great Plague? But the clerk’s wife was -not content to waste such an opportunity, and interrupted her -meditations. - -“And so your ma--Miss Slazenger as she were then--signed there, did -she, miss?” indicating the rudely formed letters in which a hand -accustomed only to the German character had inscribed an unfamiliar -name. “Mrs Cotton she took to her wonderful, just the same as to Miss -Garland. It do seem a pity as you shouldn’t have come before she left -the parish, after all the many times she have said to me, ‘Mrs Clegg,’ -says she, ‘I would give a deal to know what become of Mr and Mrs -Bertram after all, that I would.’” - -“Then Mrs Cotton is not dead?” asked Maimie eagerly. - -“Why, whatever give you that hidea, miss? The Vicar ’ad a stroke and -give up the parish, and they lives down at Whitcliffe now. This last -summer as ever was, they arsk Clegg and me down for the day, and took -us for a ride in a carriage, and give us tea in the garden, just like -ladies and gentlemen--though if you arsk me, I say give me an ’ouse, -or even a harbour, the grass bein’ damp and spiders about.” - -“Could you give me Mrs Cotton’s direction?” - -“To be sure I could, miss--Windicotes, Cavendish Road, -Whitcliffe-on-Sea. But, miss, if you’re lookin’ for witnesses to swear -to that there weddin’, don’t you forget that me and Clegg was there -just as much as Mrs Cotton and the Vicar, him givin’ the bride away -and me ready with a bottle of salts in case of the ladies’ bein’ -overcome. Why, Mrs Cotton she says to me herself that morning, ‘Mrs -Clegg,’ says she, ‘don’t you let your Tommy go to school to-day, and -I’ll make it up to him’; and if she didn’t set him to play marbles -just outside the churchyard gate, sayin’ that if he saw a cab drive -up, or so much as any strangers comin’ along, he was to run in and -whisper to her at once, ‘and then, Mrs Clegg,’ says she, ‘you and me -will fasten the church-door and pile the forms against it until Mr -Cotton have finished the service, sooner nor let those dear young -people be separated before they’re properly married, for it’s in my -mind as Mr Bertram’s cruel relations will try to part ’em at the -last.’ And I was that worked up with the thought of Miss Garland bein’ -dragged off shriekin’ to one of them convents, and that nice young -gentleman her ’usband--for a fine military-lookin’ gentleman he was, -though a trifle ’aughty in speakin’--throwed into chains and a -dungeon, that I ’id my broom be’ind the church-door, and I was ready -to fight for ’em, I was. Not that anythink come of it, after all.” Mrs -Clegg spoke with evident disappointment. - -“I’ll remember,” said Maimie. “But don’t tell any one that I’ve been -here, any way.” She folded up the certificate and placed it in her -pocket-book, gave the clerk his fee, and prepared to go. “The cruel -relations may show up yet, you know.” - -“So they may, miss, but you may depend upon me and Clegg.” The clerk’s -wife was now escorting her out of the church. “I see you know all -about that bit of paper at the end of the book there, which I -understand there’s property dependin’ on it. Now you’ll maybe ’ardly -believe it, miss, but neither me nor Clegg have ever mentioned that -slip to a livin’ soul, least of all to the new Vicar, as ain’t ashamed -to walk about the parish in petticoats, and wearin’ a Roman mitre on -his ’ead.” - -The description was startling, but Maimie recognised the object of it -when she was walking past the vicarage, having rid herself of Mrs -Clegg by means of a gratuity. The green door in the high wall opened, -and a tall thin man came out, wearing a cassock and a curious -head-dress that seemed a cross between a Tam-o’-Shanter and a -mortar-board. A youthful voice from the other side of the narrow -street inquired shrilly, “Where _did_ you get that ’at?” and a small -boy scampered away as fast as his legs would carry him, while the new -Vicar, with the air of a martyr, walked rapidly towards the church. As -for Maimie, she stuffed her handkerchief into her mouth to restrain a -peal of hysterical laughter, and turned her steps hastily towards the -station. Her experiences of the morning seemed altogether too absurd -and incongruous for real life, and in spite of the strained excitement -with which she had set forth on her quest, the clergyman’s martyrlike -aspect put the finishing touch to her helpless mirth. When she was -safely in the train, and had allowed herself the luxury of a long -laugh over this anti-climax to her adventure, she became suddenly -serious, however. - -“Now let me see,” she said severely to herself; “what have I gained, -any way? Well, I know that Mr Steinherz and Aunt Connie were married -at that church, and that there’s a slip of paper which _may_ cover -their secret. And I’ve found three witnesses certainly--four if the -old Vicar’s mind isn’t affected by his stroke--who can testify to the -marriage. I guess it’s just as well that the gentleman in the ‘Roman -mitre’ wasn’t the Vicar when Pappa Steinherz went to enlist his -sympathies. I don’t believe he has any; he might even have assisted to -drag poor Aunt Connie shrieking to a convent. Well, but after all, -it’s quite possible yet for Mr Steinherz to have made out that he was -Prince Joseph of Arragon when he isn’t, or even to have invented the -tale just to impress Lord Usk. I don’t think so, but I’m set on -looking things in the face. Any way, I guess I can’t do anything -towards clearing up the affair without Mr Steinherz’s help, or else -the use of those relics that Mr Hicks has in charge. How am I to fix -things? I have no pull on Pappa Steinherz, and if I make him mad he’ll -just take Fay right away from me, and break my heart. I’ll have to -wait. And yet something ought to be done right now, or some of those -old folks that can swear to the marriage will be dying off. I wonder -if I couldn’t take their evidence. No, I’m pretty certain it would -need to be sworn to before a judge, and I daren’t have any other -person come into the secret, even if I knew a judge to speak to. Well, -I guess I must sit tight, and that’s all just now.” - -Nevertheless, when she left the train at Charing Cross, and took a -hansom mechanically to drive to the hotel, her brain busied itself -with a fresh problem, which was yet an old one, the question of -preventing an engagement between Usk and Félicia. Such an engagement -would put an end once for all to her ambitious schemes for Félicia’s -future, which seemed perfectly feasible in the light of the -revelations of the night before. Not that either Maimie or Félicia -herself would have cared much for the engagement, had there been a -prospect of a more brilliant alliance, but it would give Mr Steinherz -a vantage-ground of which he would make full use. Once Félicia was -engaged, he would see that the engagement was fulfilled. He would -hurry on the marriage, and never relax his vigilance until his -daughter had become Viscountess Usk, and Félicia, in her present -mood, would offer no opposition. The prospect of escaping from his -tutelage, and feeling that she was her own mistress (Usk did not -count), was far more attractive to her than Maimie’s lofty hopes. It -seemed that there was no help for it, and Maimie decided reluctantly -to bow to circumstances, and make herself so agreeable to Usk that he -could not but approve of her friendship with Félicia. As she came to -this decision, she was startled by meeting Usk and Mr Steinherz face -to face. Her driver was trying to cross Oxford Street in the direction -of Bloomsbury, but there was a block in the traffic, and an inexorable -policeman detained the hansom close to one of those islands of refuge -on which strange groups assemble by force of circumstances. Here stood -Mr Steinherz and Usk, unable to penetrate the solid phalanx of -vehicles which confronted them, and waiting with what patience they -might while the policeman marshalled a train of old ladies and country -cousins in readiness for a break in the line. They were the last -people Maimie would have chosen to meet at such a moment, when that -dreadful certificate seemed to be burning in her pocket. - -“You are out pretty early, Maimie,” said Mr Steinherz. - -“I----I came out on an errand for Félicia, way down in the City,” -stammered Maimie, remembering for the first time that the errand had -never been performed. - -“You should have mailed the order. I don’t choose to have you running -around for Félicia. You look just tired out.” - -“I wish you had been with us just now, Miss Logan,” said Usk, changing -the subject hastily, either on account of Maimie’s evident -embarrassment or because he could not bear to hear Félicia blamed. -“We came across the Archduke Ferdinand Joachim and an aide-de-camp -poking about Trafalgar Square in mufti. Wasn’t it a good thing I had -studied him so long yesterday, so that I could point him out to Mr -Steinherz? But I did wish you and Miss Steinherz were there.” - -Usk spoke fast and somewhat nervously. Maimie read in his face that -the night had made no change in his feelings. He was prepared to marry -Félicia and keep her in ignorance of her father’s descent, and Mr -Steinherz was well pleased with his decision. Maimie felt that she -hated them both. - -“By the way,” said Mr Steinherz, “I guess I am in Félicia’s black -books yet?” Maimie nodded, for she had left Félicia comfortably -established in her room, with no intention of showing herself for the -present. “Well, we lunch Lord Usk to-day, and he would be real sorry -to miss her. Do you happen to know anything she wants right now?” - -“Why, I guess one of those gold girdles with turquoise bosses would -fix up her new Paris tea-gown to perfection,” said Maimie slowly, -adding vengefully to herself, as she saw Usk redden, “I won’t let you -down easy this time, Pappa Steinherz--talking that way about Fay -before her best young man!” - -“Then maybe you’ll intimate that I’m bringing along something of the -sort when you get back,” said Mr Steinherz. - -“Why, certainly. I guess you’ll find Regent Street the best place,” -cried Maimie, as the cab moved on. It was some satisfaction to her to -see the disappointment on Usk’s face. “He’s death on getting it over,” -she said to herself; “and now Mr Steinherz will have him trail -half-way round London before coming in.” - -But her satisfaction was dashed with dismay when she remembered again -the pair of dainty high-heeled slippers still reposing in her satchel. -How could she account to Félicia for the morning which was to have -been devoted to changing them? If she refused to give an explanation, -or offered a lame one, she knew Félicia would never rest until she -had solved the mystery. And if she guessed that Maimie did not wish Mr -Steinherz to know what she had been doing, she would appeal to him -sooner than allow herself to be foiled. There was a relentless -malevolence about Félicia on these occasions, when Maimie was trying -to deceive her purely for her own good, which Maimie felt deeply. - -“I don’t dare go back without changing them,” she sighed to herself, -and standing up, began an agitated colloquy with the driver. - -“Can you get back to the City from here, hackman, right away?” she -asked him. “There’s something I have forgotten.” - -The man asked where she wanted to go, and then opined that the shop -could easily be reached by way of Holborn. He turned at the first -opportunity, and as they approached the corner Maimie caught sight of -Mr Steinherz and Usk a second time, looking at some books in a -shop-window. They had not gone far towards Regent Street, and Maimie -laughed to herself as she thought of Usk’s impatience. When she looked -round again, her attention was attracted by a man standing on the -pavement at the corner, who was gazing--glaring was the word that -occurred to her--across the street at the bookshop opposite. He was -elderly and poorly dressed, and evidently a foreigner, with a ragged -beard and unkempt hair. - -“An Italian,” said Maimie to herself. “How he looks! like a lion -stalking his prey. What can he be staring at, any way?” - -As the thought crossed her mind, the man dashed suddenly into the -street in front of the hansom, and seeming not to hear the lively -remonstrances of the driver, who was obliged to pull up pointblank, -threaded his way through the traffic to the opposite corner. Maimie, -watching him carelessly through the side-window, saw him reach the -pavement. What followed was done all in a moment. He took one step -forward, there was the flash of something long and shining which fell -and rose and fell again, and Mr Steinherz sank heavily against Usk. -That was all Maimie saw, for her wild scream sent the horse, already -startled by the sudden check, tearing down Holborn, and it seemed to -her an eternity before the driver succeeded in stopping it, and -turning back again at her frenzied entreaty. The irate policemen whose -orders they had disregarded in their wild career, and the other -drivers whose destruction they had sought to compass, took no notice -of them as they returned; every one was running or looking in one -direction. Even at that moment Maimie was conscious of a feeling of -wonder as the crowd gathered. People came hurrying out of shops, -pouring down side streets, rushing up from behind, and very soon the -hansom could go no farther. Maimie waited in agony while the driver -tried to force his horse through the crowd, and found herself the -recipient of the confidence bestowed on a friend by a boy with a -baker’s basket. - -“I see ’im come runnin’ like mad, brandishin’ ’is drippin’ knife--as -good as a theaytre. ’E run strite into the middle of the street, all -among the ’orses, rarght in front of the dray. Blowed if ’e didn’t ’it -out at the ’orses with the knife as ’e went down. ’E _was_ gyme!” - -“Say, who is it? what has happened?” gasped Maimie to a policeman, who -found even his authority insufficient to clear a passage for him into -the midst of the crowd, and was forced to content himself with -ordering the people on its outskirts to move on. He answered civilly, -and with obvious self-importance. - -“An Eye-talian, miss, supposed to be a lunatic, that stabbed an -American gentleman, and then threw himself under the ’orses’ feet.” - -“But Mr Steinherz--the gentleman who was stabbed?” she cried. “I saw -it all. What about him? He is my guardian.” - -“You saw it, miss? Then I must trouble you for your name and address. -You’ll be wanted at the inquest. They’re takin’ him to the ’orspital.” - -“Oh, where is it? You’ll show me, officer, won’t you? But I guess I -ought to go and fetch his daughter. You’ll let the hack through?” - -“It’s no good, miss. I doubt myself if he’ll live to reach the gate. -You had better send the cab away, and I’ll take you to the ’orspital.” - -“Tell me about it, any way. What did you see?” Maimie asked -feverishly, as the policeman pushed a way for her through the crowd, -after she had dismissed the cab. - -“All I saw as I come along Oxford Street was ten or twelve people -round an old party as I thought was preachin’ on the pavement. I went -to move ’em on, and a lady bursts out and ketches ’old of me that -tight I couldn’t move. ‘Oh, policeman, policeman!’ she says; ‘murder! -save him! fetch a doctor, quick!’ and ’olds me tight all the time, -while the old chap goes on jawin’ to the crowd about a righteous -vengeance and the task of his ’ole life, and his father bein’ shot and -his mother turned out of doors in a winter’s night, and defyin’ -anybody to arrest him, though he’d thrown down his knife. And then, -all of a sudden, while I was strugglin’ to get free from the lady, he -give a great yell and cried out, ‘It’s the wrong man--not the -Archduke!’ and caught up a long knife with blood drippin’ from it off -of the pavement, and went for the people. They made room for him -pretty quick, I can tell you, and he rushed across into ’Olborn, and -me after him. You’d have said he was mad if you’d seen him charge the -traffic just like an army, as I did, and he’d near got through when he -was knocked down by a dray. And there’s no need to take _him_ to -’orspital. And what was it you saw, miss?” - -“I just saw him standing on the side-walk and watching, and then he -ran across and pulled out something, and struck--and struck--and -then----” Maimie’s voice failed her. - -“Case of mistaken hidentity,” remarked the policeman complacently, -“but it’s not often those foreigners make mistakes. Now it’s a curious -thing----” - -But Maimie was not destined to receive further enlightenment from his -stores of wisdom, for they had arrived at the hospital gate by this -time, and Usk was coming out of it, looking like a man who was going -to be hanged. - -“He’s gone!” he said heavily, in answer to Maimie’s gasp of -inquiry--“died just as they carried him in. But you’re here--and you -know all about it--you’ll be able to tell Félicia. I didn’t know how -to break it to her. I was trying to think what I should say if I had -to tell Phil that our father was dead. But you’re a woman, you know -how to put things, you can soften it to her----” - -“Oh, I can’t! I daren’t!” cried Maimie, shrinking back. Then she -remembered in a flash that if she threw the burden of the disclosure -upon Usk, it would be a tacit recognition of his position with regard -to Félicia. No, he was not engaged to her yet, and if Maimie could -help it, the engagement should not take place. - -“I guess I’ll have to do it,” she said resolutely. - -“I’ll take you back to the hotel,” said Usk. “The policeman will call -a hansom, for I’m sure you can’t walk.” - -“Tell me just what happened. Who was the man?” asked Maimie -breathlessly, when they were in the cab. - -“I can’t tell you. It was all so awfully sudden. We were looking in at -a shop-window, when suddenly some one shouted out something in Italian -behind us--about his father and mother, I think--and I heard two blows -struck, and Mr Steinherz gave a kind of gasp, and fell against me. I -tried to lift him up and stop the bleeding, and people were standing -round staring, and the man who had done it kept talking, talking, in -English. But when I got Mr Steinherz’s head on my shoulder, so that -his face showed, the man gave a yell and dashed away. They say there’s -no doubt he mistook him for the Archduke Ferdinand Joachim, and it’s -curious that last night I noticed there was a distinct likeness -between them from behind, but not the very least in front.” - -“I would just love to tell you that I know exactly as much as you do!” -thought Maimie enviously. Aloud she merely said, “And Mr Steinherz?” - -“A doctor came up, and said he was stabbed in the lungs, and couldn’t -possibly live. He tried to speak, though the doctor told him not, but -he could only get out a few disjointed words. And just as they got him -into the receiving-room he died.” - -They had reached the hotel now, and Usk waited in the sitting-room -while Maimie went to look for Félicia. It was more than an hour -before she came back, and in the interval Usk was a prey to all kinds -of interruptions. In order to spare the girls, he made all the -arrangements he could without direct authority from them; other -matters he put aside resolutely, refusing to allow Miss Steinherz to -be troubled at present. When Maimie returned she looked so old and -harassed that he was shocked. - -“How is she?” he asked anxiously. - -“Quieter now; I’ve given her a sleeping-draught. But it’s been -terrible. Her nerves are pretty highly strung, and she screamed fit to -make your blood run cold. And I know there are millions of things to -do, and I can’t tell the way they fix them over here. Say, Lord Usk, -you oughtn’t to be here, any way; people will talk, you know they -will. Folks in England are so censorious. Do, please, go right away. -It makes me nervous to see you there.” - -Usk obeyed, with apparent willingness, for a splendid idea had entered -his head. He went straight to the nearest post-office, and telegraphed -to the Marchioness of Caerleon at Llandiarmid Castle. - -“‘Terrible accident to Mr Steinherz. Daughter quite prostrate. Can you -come?’” He read over the message. “That’ll bring her,” he muttered. -“And I never knew the people yet that the mater couldn’t comfort when -they were in trouble.” - -As he put the change into his pocket he felt a paper there. Taking it -out, he found it was the envelope Mr Steinherz had given him the night -before, to be opened after his death. The time had come already, he -realised with awe. Stepping aside, he opened the envelope, and drew -out a cutting from a newspaper. - - - “Great consternation has been caused in august circles in Vindobona by - the reported reappearance of the Grey Lady of the Hohenstaufens. The - scene of the apparition was the portion of the Imperial Schloss known - as the Arragon-Palast, which is occupied by the Prince of Arragon, - titular King of Cantabria, and his family, when the Court is at - Vindobona, and it is alleged that the ghost-seer, a sentinel on duty, - is absolutely convinced of the reality of the sight, which is believed - to portend an approaching death in the House of Hohenstaufen. The last - recorded appearance of the Grey Lady in this portion of the Schloss - took place prior to the death of the late King Paul of Cantabria, - which occurred at an advanced age ten years ago. The king was - connected with the Hohenstaufens through his mother, who was a - Pannonian archduchess.” - - - - - CHAPTER V. - MANŒUVRES. - -So confident was Usk in his mother’s kindness of heart that when -Lord and Lady Caerleon arrived in London late that evening, he was -waiting for them at the terminus, eager to conduct them at once to the -Hotel Bloomsbury. Having seen the evening papers in the course of -their journey, they were acquainted with the details of the tragedy, -and did not need to be assured by him of the desolate state of the two -girls. - -“I knew you would come,” he said. - -“How could we do anything else?” asked his mother. “Poor Félicia! -one’s heart bleeds for her. Only just engaged, and her joy clouded in -this terrible way----!” - -“Oh, but---- we aren’t exactly engaged yet,” said Usk uncomfortably. -“You see, Mr Steinherz had given his consent all right, but I hadn’t -spoken to Félicia, and there has been no opportunity since.” - -“No, of course not. But this makes it rather awkward, Usk. It seemed -only natural to come and look after the poor girl when I thought she -was engaged to you, but now she may consider it a liberty.” - -“Not she, mater! She’ll think it just too sweet for words, as she and -Miss Logan are always saying. They stand in tremendous awe of you.” - -“There, Nadia!” said Lord Caerleon, “that settles it. You have somehow -managed to inspire these unknown Americans with awe, and it’s your -bounden duty to go and put things right--your duty, mind.” - -“I will go and ask if I can do anything for them, certainly, as soon -as we get there, but that’s different from having the right to go and -mother them, as it were.” - -“No; that’s just what they want,” said Usk. “Think of it, mater--two -girls alone in a strange country in such terrible circumstances! Of -course they want mothering.” - -Lady Caerleon never allowed herself to shrink from a duty when it was -once set plainly before her, and half an hour later she knocked at the -door of the Steinherzes’ sitting-room. Maimie, who was sitting alone, -worn out by innumerable harassing interviews with reporters, police -inspectors, officials from the Pannonian and United States Embassies, -and various tradesmen, thought wearily that here was another caller. - -“Come right in,” she answered with resignation, but stood up -astonished when she saw that the visitor was a stately and very -handsome middle-aged lady. The surprise did not last more than a -moment. - -“You are the Marchioness of Caerleon,” she said, and again her tone -spoke of hopeless resignation. “I sort of felt you would come.” - -“My son told me of your sad trouble, and Lord Caerleon and I thought -we might perhaps be some help to you,” said Lady Caerleon, almost -timidly. She was trying to assure herself that Maimie’s words bespoke -nothing but confidence, but she had an uncomfortable suspicion that -they covered dislike, even defiance. - -“Lord Usk is real considerate, but Miss Steinherz and I have no claim -on the kindness of his relations,” said Maimie icily. Lady Caerleon -mistook her meaning, and thought she had penetrated the secret of this -cool reception. - -“I assure you,” she said with a touch of _hauteur_, “I know perfectly -well how things stand between Miss Steinherz and my son. She need have -no fear that Usk will intrude himself and his wishes upon her at such -a time. Pray believe that I have merely come to offer you such help as -I can.” - -“You are real good,” said Maimie, blushing as she realised what her -words had implied to Usk’s mother; “but I’m so awfully tired to-night, -I just can’t seem to say things right. I don’t know what way they fix -anything over here, or what to say to the people that have been coming -around all day.” - -“My husband will undertake to see any one who comes on business, and -he will advise you in any way he can,” said Lady Caerleon, touched by -the confession. “I really think you will find it an advantage to have -a man to represent you,” she added gently. “People here like it -better.” - -“And in England it’s just as well to have a lord back of one all the -time?” Maimie spoke quite seriously, but it struck her at once that -the words sounded like an ill-timed joke. - -“I won’t ask to see Miss Steinherz to-night,” said Lady Caerleon, with -some coldness; “but if she feels well enough in the morning----” - -“If you please, miss,” said Félicia’s maid, entering the room, “Miss -Steinherz have woke up all of a tremble, and she says will her -ladyship go and see her for a moment, if she would be so kind?” - -“I’ll just speak to her,” said Maimie quickly, and she hastened to -Félicia’s room. “Fay,” she whispered hurriedly, “you won’t have Lady -Caerleon see you to-night, will you? I didn’t want to bring her along -till to-morrow, when I’ve got things fixed. I’ve planned it all out -for us to go right back home at once, so’s you won’t have to come to -any conclusion yet, and then in the spring we’ll cross to Europe just -by ourselves and have an elegant time.” - -“You make me tired--you and your plans and plots!” cried Félicia -vehemently. “I’m so nervous I could fly, and I want to see somebody -quiet and restful. That’s what I feel all the time with Usk. He’s not -smart, but he’s real good. Just bring his mother right along in.” - -Warned by the shrill voice and gleaming eyes, Maimie obeyed without a -word, wondering maliciously what Lady Caerleon would think of the -unconventional greeting she would probably receive. But Félicia made -her way to her visitor’s heart at once. After one look at the calm -beautiful face bent over her, she rose impulsively and threw herself -into Lady Caerleon’s arms. - -“Oh, love me!” she cried. “Pet me, just as if I was a baby again!” - -“Oh, my darling!” cried Lady Caerleon, taken by storm. “Are you come -to me instead of my Phil? I have lost her, you know; she was married -last year, and I have wanted a daughter so much.” - -She held the quivering form in her arms, stilled the sobs which broke -forth, murmured tender names, until Félicia consented to lie down -again, and then sat by her until she fell asleep, Maimie watching in -the background, with bitter jealousy gnawing at her heart. She, who -had mothered Félicia since she was nine and Félicia six, was nothing -to her now that this Englishwoman had come on the scene. Then she -remembered certain previous experiences of the kind, and was -comforted. Félicia had turned from her before, in transient fits of -virtue or of friendship, but she had always come back. - -“She is the dearest girl!” Lady Caerleon said to her husband, with -tears in her eyes, when she was at length free to seek her own room; -“very unconventional--quite a child of nature, but my heart went out -to her. It seemed as if she had always felt the want of a mother so -terribly, and to-night, of course, worse than ever.” - - -During the days that followed, not only Félicia, but Maimie, learned -to be thankful for the presence and countenance of Usk’s parents. The -reporters had been inclined to invent scandalous stories on the -strength of the supposed likeness between the murdered American -millionaire and the Pannonian Archduke, but when Lord Caerleon, backed -by the police and the hospital officials, assured them that the -likeness was purely a delusion of the murderer’s, they were forced to -restrain their exuberant fancy. As for Usk, he stood uneasily aloof -when discussions of this kind were taking place, wondering at the -blindness of the experts. With his mind’s eye he saw continually one -of the chief treasures of Llandiarmid, a snuff-box presented to his -great-grandfather when a young soldier by the aged Emperor Matthias of -Pannonia, the great-grandfather alike of the present Emperor and of Mr -Steinherz, in recognition of a gallant deed of arms done under his own -eye. The monarch’s portrait, set in diamonds, ornamented the lid of -the box, and it seemed almost incredible to Usk that his father could -look at the face of the murdered man and not recall at once the -miniature which was so familiar to him. - -In the absence of the clue which Usk possessed, public interest, -though keenly excited by the tragedy, failed to seize upon its details -with the wolfish eagerness which would have been aroused by any hint -of the truth. It was made clear at the inquest that the murderer, who -was identified as an Italian violinist named Marco Farinelli, had been -known to the police for some time as an associate of foreign -Republicans in London. He had lived many years in England, having just -escaped the consequences of complicity in a plot against the Pannonian -occupation of Venetia. His father, who had helped him to leave the -country, and forcibly resisted the Pannonian soldiers sent to arrest -him, had been summarily shot, and his mother, who was ill in bed, -turned out in a winter night on the roadside, where she died. For -nearly forty years Farinelli had cherished the memory of his wrongs, -and it was shown that he was greatly excited by the news of the -approaching visit to England of the Archduke Ferdinand Joachim, who -had been in military command of the district in which his parents -lived. It was proved that he had tried to form a band of assassins, -who were to see that the Archduke did not leave London alive; but his -friends had other work on hand, or preferred not to bring themselves -into public notice, and he had evidently determined to accomplish his -vengeance alone. In the breast-pocket of his coat was found a paper -which aroused much curiosity--a kind of itinerary of London, duly -mapped out into days. “Wednesday, Trafalgar Square and British Museum; -Thursday, Houses of Parliament and Government Offices ...” it ran, but -the Scotland Yard officials charged with the protection of the -Archduke during his visit were able to explain it. Having learnt, with -considerable dismay, that the distinguished visitor proposed to devote -his mornings while in London to wandering about _incognito_, they -arranged with much care a false time-table, which was allowed to -circulate freely in his household. The expected leakage occurred, and -the whole arrangement became known in some mysterious way to -Farinelli, but while he was keeping his eager watch in the -neighbourhood of the Museum, the Archduke was being conducted over the -Horse-Guards. The mistake which had occurred was now perfectly clear -to the jury, who had heard Usk acknowledge that there was from one -point of view a certain likeness between the Archduke and Mr -Steinherz, and they returned a verdict of wilful murder against the -Italian, adding an expression of their sympathy with the family of the -victim. In Farinelli’s case the verdict was one of accidental death, -although there was some attempt to bring it in as suicide, and the -jury were discharged, and the nine days’ wonder was at an end. - -Maimie had found Lord Caerleon a tower of strength while the inquest -was going on. He made a point of accompanying her backwards and -forwards each day, and sitting beside her in court, and he was so -quiet and so impassive that her restless impatience seemed to be -calmed perforce. She did not fret over the fact that Lady Caerleon and -Félicia were continually together; and she received with outward -resignation the news which was awaiting her when the inquest ended, -and which she had, indeed, foreseen. It fell to Lady Caerleon to -communicate it, which she prepared to do with some anxiety, and -Maimie’s lip curled when she realised what was coming. It was quite -like Félicia to depute another person to make an announcement that -might prove disagreeable. - -“Félicia and I have been talking things over,” said Lady Caerleon, -“and we think we have arranged a very pleasant plan. But of course we -could not decide upon it without you.” - -“I guess not, indeed. Félicia and I don’t _ever_ act independently of -one another,” returned Maimie, with sarcastic emphasis. - -Lady Caerleon went on hastily. She thought she understood perfectly -well the soreness which filled the heart of the girl who found herself -set aside for the lover and his relations, and she was very sorry for -Maimie. “It is very touching,” she said, “how stringently Mr Steinherz -in his will expressed his desire to be buried in America by the side -of his wife. I can quite sympathise with Félicia’s natural desire to -take his body home herself, which she tells me you suggested she -should do. But she is really not fit for it. I never saw any one so -completely a creature of nerves. The least excitement seems to throw -her into a fever, and the strain of such a journey at this time of -year would be enough to kill her.” - -“In other words, Fay don’t choose to risk a voyage in the fall,” said -Maimie to herself, even while she was listening with polite interest -to Lady Caerleon. - -“And so our idea--of course I suggested it--was that Usk should cross -to America with--the body, and superintend the funeral, and see that -everything was done as you and Félicia would wish, and that you -should both come home with us to Llandiarmid for the winter. The quiet -country life would be sure to do Félicia good, and it would be the -greatest pleasure to my husband and me to have young people about us -again. I can’t tell you how I was dreading another winter without my -daughter.” - -“Lady Caerleon--” Maimie was looking at her with searching eyes--“I’d -like to ask you just one question--does this bind Félicia to anything -when Lord Usk comes home?” - -Lady Caerleon looked surprised and somewhat annoyed. “I see nothing -binding in what I have said,” she answered. - -“There won’t be any doubt that Lord Usk goes as Mr Steinherz’s friend, -not as Félicia’s lover--that his kindness gives him no claim on her? -People look at things so differently over here.” - -“I should have thought gentlemanly conduct was the same on both sides -of the Atlantic. A gentleman does not consider that he has established -a claim upon a woman when he does her a service.” - -“Now I have made you mad,” said Maimie sorrowfully, “and I’m real -grieved. It’s just for Félicia’s sake I’m speaking. I don’t want to -see her engage herself right now, when she’s naturally thinking more -of her father’s wish, and of all your sweet love and kindness to her, -than of her own feelings.” - -Lady Caerleon wished in vain that there was some means of knowing -whether this girl was laughing at her or not. “You seem to suggest -that nothing but pressure from her father would have induced Félicia -to accept Usk,” she said. “If you have any reason to believe this, I -think it is your duty to tell me.” - -“Why, that’s just what I can’t tell you,” said Maimie, with the most -engaging frankness. “I don’t see anything of Félicia these days, and -I can’t seem to find out what she feels like. Only I had my misgivings -before all of this happened, and I don’t want to see her rushed into -anything.” - -“You may feel quite happy. No one will put the slightest pressure upon -Félicia to do anything but please herself,” said Lady Caerleon -stiffly. “Usk won’t even try to come to an understanding with her -before he sails.” - -“And when he comes back, he’ll just begin over again from the -beginning?” cried Maimie ecstatically. “Dear Lady Caerleon, you have -taken a weight off my mind!” - -“What a curious person Miss Logan is!” said Lady Caerleon afterwards -to her son. “I can never make her out. She always seems to suspect us -in some way.” - -Usk’s private opinion was that Maimie suspected the Caerleon family, -generally and individually, of anxiety to lay hold upon Félicia’s -fortune, but he would not suggest this to his mother, lest in the -shock of such an accusation she should insist upon washing her hands -of both girls forthwith. - -“Oh, I don’t think she likes me much,” he said lightly; “but one can’t -wonder at it, when she’s so devoted to Félicia. You won’t let her -turn Félicia against me while I am away, will you?” - -But Maimie had no thought of doing anything so crude. One of her -reasons for wishing to return to America had been the hope of -obtaining from Mr Hicks some clue to the nature of the proofs Mr -Steinherz had left in his charge; but since she was foiled in this, -she had decided to keep her secret to herself for the present. As -things were, Félicia’s claim upon her father’s relations would meet -only with ridicule if it was brought to their notice. The house of -Albret-Arragon would be likely to entertain it only if it offered some -advantage, Mr Steinherz had said, and so far there was nothing but -money to offer. But time might bring other opportunities, and it was -time that Maimie had gained. Still, she did not think it well to let -Félicia see that she was tolerably satisfied. - -“I wonder just how long you’ll find Llandiarmid endurable!” she said -to her. “You’re to have Phil’s room, you know, and sort of take her -place.” - -“I don’t care,” was the irritating reply. “Lady Caerleon is just -sweet. I do love to have her sit by me and talk nicely about poor -Pappa. It don’t remind me the least of what he was, but it’s real -soothing to hear.” - -There was a touch of the old Félicia in this speech, and Maimie saw -in a flash why Lady Caerleon’s society had been preferred to her own -of late. Félicia felt more at her ease with a stranger, who would -naturally credit her with possessing all the feelings suitable to the -occasion, than with one who knew as well as Maimie had done the lack -of sympathy between her father and herself. - -There was now no need to remain longer in London, and after a funeral -service at a neighbouring church, which was attended by the American -Ambassador, and to which the Archduke Ferdinand Joachim sent a -representative, Usk started on his mournful journey. His farewell was -clouded by the dismay which seized upon Félicia at the sight of the -funeral arrangements. They were so poor, so shabby, she lamented; it -would be said all over America that she had economised on her father’s -funeral. It was in vain that Lord Caerleon assured her everything had -been done without regard to expense; she was plunged in woe for a -whole day, recounting to Lady Caerleon at intervals the extraordinary -sums which had been spent on costly “caskets” and other accessories at -the funerals of different acquaintances, not heeding that her auditor -thought the expenditure a wicked waste, and the publication of the -cost ostentation of the worst kind. - -The next day the two girls travelled to Llandiarmid with Lord and Lady -Caerleon. It was a long journey, and the autumn dusk was already -gathering when they arrived, but just before the lamps were lighted, -Maimie, who was helping the maid to unpack for Félicia, happened to -glance out of the window, and laughed gently. Félicia, who was lying -exhausted on the couch, recovered sufficiently to come and look out as -well, and saw Lord and Lady Caerleon setting out together for a ramble -in the twilight. He had already routed out and put on an old Norfolk -jacket and tweed cap, and Lady Caerleon’s long skirt was gathered up -to a serviceable length. Her hand was tucked into her husband’s arm, -and they were stealing out like two children bent on a frolic, talking -happily. - -“Can you see yourself and Usk going out together that way?” asked -Maimie, in a low voice. - -“I guess not,” was Félicia’s emphatic answer. - -“But why not? It’s just awfully charming. Why, they’re not even -stout--Lord Caerleon is too active, and she worries too much over -other folks--they’re just nice, solid, comfortable, middle-aged -people. Oh, you’ll get like them, Fay. You’re going to be put in -training for that now, and don’t you forget it.” - -Félicia answered by an apprehensive glance round the room. Lady -Philippa Mortimer had not been by any means a luxurious young person, -and her favourite decorations appeared to have been hunting trophies. -Her room had seemed to her the very acme of comfort, but she had never -cared to stay indoors when she could possibly be out, and to the two -American girls the place looked woefully bare. But there was a gleam -of triumph in Maimie’s eye, and Félicia hid her dismay manfully. -Maimie scolded herself for that involuntary glance, and waited. - -For the first two or three days all went well. It was natural that -Félicia should be considered an invalid after the journey, and she -was pursued everywhere by Lady Caerleon or her maid, anxious to -establish her on the most comfortable sofa that could be found. There -was the Castle to explore, too--a small portion at a time, that she -might not be fatigued; and if Lord Caerleon was wounded by her -audacious and irreverent comments on the family portraits and other -valued treasures, he was too hospitable to betray the fact, realising -that she fully believed she was entertaining him. But the fatigue even -of a six hours’ railway journey is not expected to last for ever, and -presently Lady Caerleon hinted to Maimie that she thought it would be -far better for Félicia’s health if she would exert herself a little. -What was there she would like to do? - -It was a shock to the busy mistress of Llandiarmid to learn that -Félicia could not walk, could not sew or embroider, did not care to -sing, play, or draw, and when she read, read nothing but new novels, -of which the Castle was conspicuously destitute. Moreover, anything -that she was invited to do happened to be one of the very things that -hurt her eyes, or made her head ache, or her face flush. In her -distress Lady Caerleon took counsel with Maimie, who, though well -aware that Félicia would not walk lest it should make her feet large, -or work lest it should spoil her hands, did not feel called upon to -reveal these reasons. - -“What do you do in America, if you never go for walks?” asked the -perplexed hostess. - -“Why, we go out riding,” answered Maimie carelessly. - -“Riding? Why didn’t you tell me before? I never thought Félicia would -ride, and it will be an excellent thing for her. There’s Phil’s -horse----” - -“Oh, I don’t mean that. I meant carriage-rides and sleigh-rides.” - -“Oh, _driving_?” said Lady Caerleon involuntarily. “But she won’t come -out with me.” - -“I guess it’s just because she’s afraid you’ll have her go and see -poor folks. We don’t do that sort of thing in America.” - -“If Félicia is to live here after me, I hope she will be known as a -friend in every house on the estate,” said Lady Caerleon seriously. - -Maimie was silent. The suggestion was too absurd to need argument. -Then a happy idea occurred to her. “But Félicia has learnt riding, -Lady Caerleon, and if you have a well-mannered horse----” - -“My husband trained Philippa’s horse himself,” said Lady Caerleon, and -Maimie undertook to suggest the idea to Félicia. Félicia thought it -sounded promising, especially since it involved Lord Caerleon’s -escort, and she appeared in an exquisitely cut habit, perfect down to -the minutest detail. - -“She looks very well on horseback, but she sits a little stiffly,” -remarked Lady Caerleon to Maimie, as they watched the riders start. -“Has she ridden much across country?” - -“Lady Caerleon!” shrieked Maimie in horror; “don’t tell me your -husband’s going to take her ’cross lots. We don’t ride that way in -America--not in the East, any way--only on the roads. She’ll be -killed.” - -“You may be quite sure my husband won’t take her anywhere dangerous,” -said Lady Caerleon; but Maimie waited in agony until Félicia -returned, more dishevelled-looking than she had ever seen her. Lord -Caerleon’s good-humoured face was somewhat clouded as he helped her to -dismount. - -“You have a very good seat--for the Park,” was the only comment he -allowed himself to make upon the ride, but Félicia was less reticent -when she had reached her room. - -“Maimie Logan,” she said emphatically, “I call you to witness that I -won’t ever again go riding with an Englishman anywhere outside of -London. When I had declined all the tempting fences and ditches Lord -Caerleon showed me, I thought I was through; but suddenly we came out -upon a piece of waste land, and he said, ‘This is Phil’s favourite bit -of common. Shall we canter?’ and the horse flew off before I could -refuse. I was shaken to death, and the wind was ahead of us, so I -haven’t a scrap of skin left on my face, and I guess my bang won’t -ever curl again.” - -Maimie received this information with a shriek of unfeigned dismay, -and for the next two days Félicia remained invisible to the rest of -the household, submitting to many unpleasant and infallible remedies -warranted to restore a damaged complexion. Lord and Lady Caerleon were -overwhelmed with self-reproach, and Maimie assured Félicia that she -would never be asked to ride again. This seemed to her quite -satisfactory; but on the evening of the second day, when she rushed -upstairs after dinner, she found her friend dissolved in tears. - -“Why, Fay, your eyes!” she cried, and Félicia applied a handkerchief -delicately, then wept again. - -“Oh, it’s killing me!” was her moan. “Everything here’s just horrid. -There isn’t any place to lounge--not even a rocker!” - -It was quite true. There was an old-fashioned sofa, on which it was -possible to lie at full length, but certainly not to lounge, and a low -basket-chair, which Philippa, who had upholstered it herself, had -thought the most restful thing in the world. The photograph of herself -and her husband, which hung over the mantelpiece, in the place where -she had always kept her family photographs, seemed to smile -maliciously upon the present occupier of the room, as she sat -curled-up in a nest of cushions. Maimie came gallantly to the rescue. - -“Say, Fay, we’re fixed here for the winter, and I guess we must stick -the time out. But I’ll have them give you a different room if you -won’t spoil your eyes crying.” - -“How?” asked Félicia, with some interest. - -“Oh, I’ll fix things,” said Maimie, mysteriously but with secret -satisfaction. Félicia was returning to her allegiance very fast. It -was another reason for contentment that Félicia asked no questions as -to the way in which she secured success. This was very simple. Maimie -told Lady Caerleon that Félicia slept badly, which was true, and -suggested that she ought not to sleep alone. Before Lady Caerleon, -somewhat puzzled, had time to propose that Maimie should move into the -same room, Maimie added that she felt sure the easterly aspect of Lady -Philippa’s room was not good for Félicia. Informed that it was the -outlook which Philippa had specially loved, Maimie retorted that that -might be so, but Félicia was just perished with cold. Lady Caerleon -remarked that she was sure to be cold in the winter if she would not -go out; to which Maimie replied that in America the houses were -heated, and people had not to go outdoors to get warm. Lady Caerleon -was horrified by the implied reproach. She had meant the girl Usk -loved to be so much to her, but in some mysterious way they seemed to -be fast drifting apart. And now it was suggested that Félicia was -suffering heroically in silence, fearing to wound her hostess by the -suggestion that Philippa’s room was too cold for her! Always ready to -accuse herself, Lady Caerleon blamed her own lack of sympathy and -insight, and entreated Maimie to say what she thought it would be best -to do. Maimie was quite prepared for this. There were two rooms -opening into one another, and facing south-west, which she thought -would be just right. And might she look about in the unoccupied rooms -of the Castle, and choose the furniture that Félicia would probably -like? In her compunction, Lady Caerleon would have given leave for -anything, and in due time Maimie introduced Félicia to a kind of -fairy bower. There were quaint tables and cabinets belonging to the -Castle, but the draperies and ornaments came from Maimie’s own stores. -She had foreseen this crisis, and provided against it. - -Lady Caerleon found that her dream of having two young companions and -helpers always with her this winter instead of one was doomed to -disappointment. The two girls spent their time almost exclusively in -their own rooms, and what they did there was a mystery. Maimie had -American books and papers sent her by post, and sometimes her voice -could be heard as she read aloud to Félicia; but Félicia’s -activities seemed to be confined to the eating of bonbons. When there -were visitors, however, both the girls made their appearance as soon -as they were sent for, and took all the burden of entertaining off -Lady Caerleon’s shoulders. About each of them would gather a circle of -worthy squires and parsons, whose honest laughter over Transatlantic -audacities of speech made the great hall ring. The country ladies, -sitting silent and astonished and a little shocked, had yet eyes to -note the Parisian elegance of the deep mourning gowns, even if they -remarked afterwards that it was just like Americans to dress with such -uncalled for smartness every day. In any case, an impression was made. - - - - - CHAPTER VI. - _TOTÂ QUOD MENTE PETISTI._ - -“How did Phil stand it, any way?” said Félicia. - -She and Maimie were sitting over the fire in her room, discussing the -Rector’s daughters, whom they had just been interviewing at tea. There -is no other word to describe the intercourse between the American and -the English girls, for Félicia, in a wonderful Empire tea-gown, which -revealed her white arms and shoulders through clouds of black chiffon, -had set herself deliberately to catechise the Misses Jones on the -occupations and pleasures--particularly the pleasures--of their daily -life. The Rector was a good Welshman, and his daughters, who were -rosy, healthy, country girls, rejoiced in the names of Gwladys and -Myfanwy. Now that Philippa was married, they were Lady Caerleon’s -right hand in all her schemes for the good of the parish, and their -multifarious duties had hitherto left them no time to cultivate the -acquaintance of the two Americans, whose clothes they had regarded -admiringly from a distance. Christmas was now over, however, and in -the short breathing-space at the end of the holidays Lady Caerleon had -insisted on making her young friends known to one another, and with -some misgivings had left the four girls together. - -The conversation that ensued was not entirely devoid of friction. -Something in the tone of Félicia’s questions and comments seemed to -rouse the two Welsh girls, and the sedate Gwladys took refuge in -assuring her calmly that she could not possibly understand the -pleasures and interests of a life so far removed from her own, and -therefore there was no use in telling her about them. The livelier -Myfanwy, on the other hand, was anxious to justify her contentment -with things as they were. She and Gwladys were so busy, she said, that -they really had no time to go about hunting for amusement; but when -they wanted it there was plenty of one kind or another. They had their -bicycles, and they took turns in driving their parents in the -pony-cart, and they belonged to a harmonic society, and this winter -there were University Extension Lectures in Aberkerran, and Lady -Caerleon had given them tickets. They took turns, also, in going to -dinner-parties, and in the summer there was tennis--which still -lingered on in this remote corner of the world--and croquet (Gwladys -was a crack player), and picnics, and choir excursions--the last form -of dissipation was included somewhat doubtfully. - -“But don’t you ever have any frolics?” demanded Félicia. - -Both girls looked rather offended at being asked such a question, but -inquired forbearingly what in the world she meant. Félicia, racking -her memory to recall the amusements of country girls in America, -mentioned candy-pulls, corn-huskings, apple-bees, clam-suppers, and -church-socials, to which they replied with marked coolness that in -England it was only the farmers and the Dissenters who went in for -that sort of thing. - -“Maybe this is a frolic?” suggested Maimie, with a wave of her hand, -which included the room and the tea-table. - -“It is a great pleasure,” answered Gwladys calmly; and Myfanwy added -with effusion that they loved coming to the Castle, and wasn’t Lady -Caerleon sweet? Lady Caerleon returned to the drawing-room at this -moment, and carried off the Jones girls to her boudoir, to show them a -new photograph of Philippa, which had just arrived. - -“And I know just as well as anything what she said to them when she -had them alone,” said Félicia. “‘My dears, in your simple useful -lives you are far happier than those two selfish creatures in the -parlour, who do nothing all the time.’” - -“And the girl with the queer name just threw her arms round her neck, -and said, ‘_Dear_ Lady Caerleon!’” mimicked Maimie. - -“But how did Phil stand it, any way?” said Félicia again. “That was a -real sweet letter she wrote me this morning, or I’d have thought she -was trying to get at me. ‘I do envy you in my dear old room. Do please -ride Brownie, and use any of my things as much as you like. I wish I -was at home to show you round.’ How could she want to be back home? No -bouquets--no bonbons--no gentlemen--no sleigh-rides--no dancing--and -yet she lived!” - -“Why, she was a real outdoor girl,” said Maimie; “hunting and -wheeling, and taking long walks, and thankful to get a day’s golf at -Colfton now and then. You’ll act that way, Fay, before they’re done -with you. You’re to be made over, you know, and as soon as Usk arrives -home they’ll set at work. Wait until you change your mourning and the -dinner-parties begin. Think of putting in a whole day on horseback, -and dining the Jones family in the evening!” - -“I know you’re trying to have me say I’ll break off with Usk,” said -Félicia calmly, “and I would if there was anything better in sight. -But there isn’t. At least we are sure of getting right into society -here. I know it’s only the nice people Lady Caerleon visits with, not -the smart people, but that I can fix for myself once I’m presented and -have prospected around a bit. Lady Caerleon is best friends with the -Dowager Duchess of Old Sarum and the rest of the religious -aristocratic cranks, and once we break with the Caerleons all of their -doors will be shut in our faces. As I say, that’s nothing if we can do -better, but you’ve got to show me just how.” - -“But if I can help you to do far better?” demanded Maimie. - -“Why, I’d like to hear about it first.” - -“That’s just what you can’t do. You must be quite innocent. But you’ll -have to fire Usk out if I give you the word.” - -“Well, I won’t fire him out definitely until this other plan of yours -works. I can do with him well enough if it should peter out. You -needn’t conclude I’m going to be made over to suit Lady Caerleon. I -guess I can make Usk over to suit myself. But I’m open to other -offers.” - -“If I can’t fix things right away, she’ll accept him with effusion -just as soon as ever he comes back,” said Maimie to herself; and she -plotted and planned until, as she reflected ruefully, her hair must be -turning grey. It was part of her scheme that Usk’s family, and not -herself, should take the first step towards breaking off the -understanding; and she saw her chance one day when Lady Caerleon, -speaking with obvious nervousness, seized the opportunity of a rare -_tête-à-tête_ with her to say-- - -“Miss Logan, I wish I could enlist your help with Félicia. I quite -hoped that the winter here would make her strong, but she gives -herself no chance to get well.” - -The implied reproach to Félicia aroused Maimie at once. “It’s just -that there isn’t anything to do here,” she replied. “If we were at -home you’d soon see she wasn’t sick. She would be going along from one -function to another all the time.” - -“Kept up by excitement? Still, that shows she can do a great deal if -she likes. But I want to see her able to work and play in moderation -without needing a perpetual stimulus. Of course I know her father’s -death was a terrible shock, but the invalid life she leads at present -is the worst possible thing for her. Always on the sofa, in that hot -room, eating sweets or sucking that horrible gum----” - -“We call it chewing gum, not sucking it,” interrupted Maimie, -listening apprehensively for the next words. Had Lady Caerleon found -out about the cigarettes smuggled in under the guise of bonbons? - -“It makes no difference. And she scarcely eats anything at meals, and -seems by some instinct to choose what is most unwholesome.” - -“That is so,” said Maimie cordially. It was clear that Lady Caerleon -had discovered nothing. “I’d just give anything to get her to think of -her complexion, and she doesn’t begin to do it.” - -“Her complexion!” There were scorn and disgust, deep if involuntary, -in Lady Caerleon’s tones. “I am talking about her health. A more -natural life and plenty of exercise--not simply creeping backwards and -forwards on the terrace for a few minutes when it happens to be -warm--would do more for her complexion than anything else. What I -think of is the future. Miss Logan, can’t you see what I feel? My boy -loves Félicia, and I hope they will have a long and happy married -life together. But how can they, if she divides her time between -spasms of excitement and helpless invalidism? I can’t help thinking of -the poor unfortunate women one meets so often in travelling--rushing -from place to place in search of some new sensation, never happy, -never contented, always bored and yet eager, with tired eyes and all -sorts of nervous complaints. And their children--their poor little -children--grown-up men and women already, living and talking, and -almost feeling like their elders, wizened and old before they have -ever been young. Generally they are Americans, these poor people, but -of late there have been more English among them. I speak in Usk’s -interests, I can’t deny it, but I do entreat you, for Félicia’s own -sake, to try and help me to save her from falling into a life of that -sort.” - -“I don’t see but you’ll have to leave Félicia alone,” was the reply, -as Lady Caerleon, with tears in her eyes, paused suddenly. “We are not -made like you English people, nor brought up like you, either. I know -you are not English yourself,” Maimie added hastily, “but you have -grown into English ways. We must move around, we must have interest -and excitement, and if an American woman don’t find that sort of thing -ready for her, she just starts right out and provides it for herself. -If we have smarter brains and more active bodies than you, it’s not -our fault, and you won’t do any good punishing us for it. If you leave -Félicia and Lord Usk to fix things for themselves, I guess they’ll -shake down all right.” - -“I am afraid not. I remember all my own troubles when I first settled -here, and I should like to save Félicia as much as I can. And my -husband is the calmest and most reasonable of men. Nothing but -deliberate wrong-doing would make him angry, and he bore with my -mistakes, and listened to my complaints, and helped me to begin -afresh, in the most wonderful way. But Usk is more like me. He gets -worried and irritable when he is tried beyond a certain point, and his -wife ought to be able to calm him, and not irritate him further. And -surely, if she loves him, Félicia would delight to do anything she -can to make herself a better wife for him? Think what a joy it would -be to him to find her strong and well and able to go about with him -when he comes back!” - -“_If_ she loves him!” repeated Maimie thoughtfully. “Why, -certainly--but does she love him, Lady Caerleon?” - -She seized the opportunity afforded by the entrance of a servant with -a note to slip away, leaving her question to do its work. The -interruption could not have occurred more suitably for her purpose, -and during the next two or three days she managed to avoid all private -conversation with Lady Caerleon. At the same time, she was obliged to -keep constant watch lest her hostess should seek an interview with -Félicia herself. Her manœuvres had hitherto been successful in -keeping them apart without Lady Caerleon’s perceiving either the -method or the reason; but now, stung by the doubt cast into her mind, -she might insist upon a definite explanation. Then, if Félicia made -another scene, and succumbed to Lady Caerleon’s motherly kindness, all -was lost, and this was likely enough. The monotony of her indoor life, -which she obstinately refused to vary by any exercise out of doors, -was really telling on her nerves, and she would alarm Maimie by wild -outbursts of impatience. She wanted to dance, to flirt, to go to the -theatre and lose herself in a play, she wanted to run away--in fact, -she was in a state in which she would respond to any stimulus applied -to her emotions. Maimie knew very well that the contraband cigarettes -were slightly narcotised, and by this means she tried to quiet -Félicia’s nerves for the moment, while still keeping her mind on the -stretch by vague promises and prophecies, the fulfilment of which -depended upon the success of her “plan.” - -As Maimie had expected, Lady Caerleon came to her, after two or three -days of anxiety, for an explanation of her mysterious warning as to -Félicia’s feelings. The mother was determined to know the worst. - -“If Félicia doesn’t care for Usk, you ought to tell me,” she said, -“that I may prepare his mind, and not let him go on hoping in vain.” - -“Well, now, Lady Caerleon,” said Maimie, with the frankness which her -hostess found almost more trying than reserve, “I’ll tell you just -what I think. I don’t believe Félicia loves your son--at present, but -I guess if he came home and asked her, she would marry him right -away.” - -“But why?” cried Lady Caerleon, aghast. - -“Why? Can you ask? Because of all your kindness and of all Lord Usk -has done. She says to herself, ‘If I can repay and please them by -sacrificing my own feelings, why, I’ll just do it!’” - -“This is terrible!” murmured Lady Caerleon. “I must speak to Félicia, -and if that is really her state of mind, I will write to Usk at once.” - -“No, please!” entreated Maimie. “Didn’t you remark that I said ‘at -present’? I would like to have her fall in love with him really. I -thought it was real kind of you and Lord Caerleon to tell him to go -and visit Niagara, and the South, and not be back until February, so’s -he wouldn’t embarrass Félicia by arriving home so soon. Well, now, if -he didn’t come back until the end of March, I guess it would be better -yet. Won’t you have him go and see the Pacific slope, and the Yosemite -in winter? By the middle of March Félicia will be changing her -mourning, and I thought we might pay a visit to her best friend, Mrs -van Zyl, at Nice. She’s set on having us, and it would be just lovely -for Félicia. Then your son could come out and see us there, and -Félicia would be able to compare him with other men. You do think he -would stand a good chance then, don’t you?” - -This was a master-stroke. Even if Lady Caerleon could have brought -herself to distrust Usk’s power of attraction, she could not confess -the feeling, and she had no wish whatever to do so. Indeed, she was -conscious of an unaccountable sensation of relief, which she -attributed to the fact that Usk would at last be able to stand on his -own merits, and take his chance in a fair field, unhampered by the -dubious advantage of Mr Steinherz’s favour. She fell in with Maimie’s -proposal at once. - -“I think it is an excellent idea,” she said. “All the gaieties will be -over on the Riviera, and Félicia will enjoy a quiet restful time.” -Maimie could have told her differently, but held her peace. “I will -speak to my husband at once, and if he agrees with me, I will write to -Usk to-day.” - -The idea did not approve itself quite so strongly to Lord Caerleon as -to his wife, and his comments opened her eyes to a truth which she had -successfully hidden from herself hitherto. Her relief sprang chiefly -from the hope that, after all, Félicia might not marry Usk. With Lady -Caerleon, to discover such a piece of self-deception was instantly to -impose punishment, and while she still suggested to Usk that he should -extend his travels, she confessed plainly that the idea was inspired -by Maimie, and sprang from a suspicion that Félicia did not really -care for him. She added also that his father and she left the matter -entirely to his own discretion, and this intimation had the -unlooked-for result that Usk promptly cancelled his remaining -engagements in America, and sailed for home by the very first steamer. -It was with the greatest reluctance that he had left Félicia in her -trouble to the care even of his mother, but it had comforted him to -feel that he was doing something for her in seeing her father’s body -laid in the grave he had chosen. The extension of his exile he had -accepted with some unwillingness, feeling that he could trust himself -to be near Félicia without forcing his hopes upon her in her time of -grief. However, if his presence would embarrass her, if she did not -know him well enough to trust him, he was content to stay away. But -this last menace to his happiness was too much. He must know the -worst. If Félicia did not love him, it was better to hear it from her -own lips, and bear it like a man, than wander about the American -continent tortured with uncertainty, and murmuring, “She loves -me--loves me not,” like a girl pulling a daisy to pieces. - -It was a sunny afternoon in early February when Usk arrived at the -little wayside station near Llandiarmid. No one was expecting him, for -the letter he had posted in New York, announcing his return, had -travelled by the same vessel as himself, and had only reached the -Castle that morning. At this moment it was lying on Lord Caerleon’s -table, in company with the telegram Usk had sent from Liverpool on his -arrival there; for Lord and Lady Caerleon had started at an unearthly -hour in the morning on a long cold drive into Oldport, where a -temperance convention was being held. Disregarding the stationmaster’s -eager invitation to step into his office while he sent to the nearest -farm and borrowed a trap to take his lordship up to the Castle, Usk -left his luggage to be fetched later, and struck off across the -fields. He had a feeling that if he met Félicia now, he would win -her, and he hurried on, his country-trained senses noting the -springing wheat in the autumn-sown fields, the pleasant smell of the -rich red plough-lands, the brown and crimson buds in the hedges, and -the twittering of the birds in the mild sunshine. Everything spoke of -life and love and hope, and Usk whistled gaily for sheer gladness of -heart as he renewed his acquaintance with the many short cuts, less -remarkable for their shortness than their complexity, which he and -Philippa had long ago discovered, and definitely laid down as the -quickest way home. The shrubbery gate was locked, of course, but he -had climbed the wall at this point too often for that to be any -obstacle, and he went on up the well-known paths. At the long wild -border under the sunny wall which marked the limits of the garden -proper he cast an involuntary glance. Philippa would have been there, -on such an afternoon as this, looking for early violets, or gathering -handfuls of snowdrops from among the grass on the opposite side of the -walk, and perhaps Félicia----? But Félicia was not to be seen, and -he turned to the old arched doorway leading into the garden and -rattled at it vigorously, nearly frightening the wits out of a meek -gardener’s boy who was at work just inside, and opened the door -timidly. On being questioned, however, the boy recovered his senses -sufficiently to volunteer the remark that he ‘see one of the young -ladies, the prettiest one, on the top terrace by herself about five -minutes back,’ for which he received a munificent reward. - -Climbing the long worn flights of steps which led from one to another -of the broad terraces in front of the Castle, Usk kept purposely in -the shade of the bushes which rose behind the balustrades. This was -his chance, to find Félicia alone and take her by surprise. He -reached the terrace next below the highest, and stopped suddenly. The -steps which faced him turned sharply at a right angle, and on the -small landing thus formed stood a sun-dial. Leaning against the -sun-dial was Félicia, her long black robes trailing on the stones, -her face almost hidden by the furs in which she was muffled. - -“Félicia!” Usk had sprung up the steps and appeared at her side. She -turned with a little scream, then a smile crept over her face. - -“Well, do you know,” she remarked deliberately, “I was just thinking -about you. I sort of felt you were not far away.” - -“You wanted me? Oh, my darling!” - -It was necessary for Félicia to free herself, which she did without -undignified haste. Then she straightened her hat, and looked -reproachful. “I don’t know what I said to give you the notion of doing -that, Lord Usk,” she said severely. - -“Only that you missed me.” Usk’s arm was round her again. - -“Well, I don’t know but I have felt lonesome at times. But I never -said it was on your account, any way.” - -“Perhaps you would like me to make you say it?” suggested Usk, taking -full advantage of his position. - -“Do tell, now! Commend me to an Englishman for calm impudence! And -what has brought you along just now?” - -“I came because I couldn’t stay away any longer. _You_ brought me -back, you know you did. I had to see you again.” - -“Then I guess you’re going away again right now? You seem to be taking -a look to last you a long time.” - -“If you’re counting on that, you’ll be disappointed. I shall look at -you just as hard however long I stay. I should like to look at you for -ever. Your face is never the same for two seconds together.” - -“I don’t feel like allowing remarks on my face unless they’re -compliments, Lord Usk, and don’t you forget it.” - -“And that wasn’t a compliment? Then I’ll show you the difference. Any -man may pay you a compliment, do you see? but I may make remarks which -are not compliments, because I love you.” - -“Then preserve me from being loved, any way! But maybe your sort of -love isn’t just the usual sort?” - -“Isn’t it? I’m so sorry. Is that better?” Félicia had laid herself -open to an obvious retort in the confidence that Usk would not be -quick-witted enough to seize the opportunity. “Do you believe that I -love you now?” he asked, partially releasing her, “or shall I go on to -prove it further?” - -“I guess it’s not necessary. I can quite believe it.” - -“And you do care for me--just a little?” - -Félicia’s face assumed an expression of intense thought. “Well, yes,” -she said at last. “I think I can maybe say that I do care for -you--just a little.” - -She flashed a glance at Usk which intoxicated him with delight, and -nothing was further from his mind than the idea that her answer might -be literally true. “All right. I’ll take it in instalments,” he said -joyously. “_Un peu--beaucoup--point_--no, that’s not what I meant. -What an idiot I am! You care for me, and that’s enough.” - -“Yes, but Maimie don’t,” said Félicia dolorously. - -“Oh, bother Maimie! No, I don’t mean that either. Of course she can’t -bear losing you. But we’ll both be awfully nice to her, won’t we? Now -that my mind is at rest about you, I’ll cultivate her--make up to her, -in fact.” - -“Not while I’m around, if you please.” - -“Now is it likely--if you were anywhere near?” - -“I guess I’ll go and tell her,” said Félicia. “Isn’t that your -parents coming in from their ride? You go and have an affecting -meeting with them, and break the news, and I’ll do likewise.” - -Maimie was indoors, kept in by a bad cold, which she had caught when -called out of bed one night to prescribe remedies for Félicia’s -headache. Nothing could possibly have been better timed than that -cold, Félicia thought complacently, though she had shown a strong -sense of injury when it had prevented Maimie from coming out with her. -She dashed upstairs and into Maimie’s room, and shot her bolt. - -“Wake up, Maimie! Usk’s come back, and we are engaged!” - -Maimie dropped her book and turned absolutely white. Then she stood up -and came slowly towards Félicia, who cowered before her. - -“Félicia Steinherz, I could kill you where you stand!” - -“How you look, Maimie! What do you mean?” asked Félicia feebly. - -“Why have you done it, any way?” demanded Maimie. - -“Why, I like Usk well enough, and I must have a man to trail me -around.” - -“Do you know who’s coming here next week?” fiercely. - -“Oh, just some brother of Lord Caerleon’s and his wife.” - -“Why, certainly. Do you know how many brothers he has?” - -“Well, I guess there must be two, any way--this Lord Cyril and the -Count Mortimer that Mr Hicks talks about all the time.” - -“I do admire to see a girl real smart! You’ve listened pretty well, -haven’t you?” - -“I don’t see but I’ve listened well enough. Lord Caerleon couldn’t -expect me do more than look interested, and interrupt just right.” - -“I’d have felt like boxing your ears if I’d been Lord Caerleon.” - -“No, Maimie, you wouldn’t. It’s real sweet of me to have him talk to -me, and he knows it. You’re fallen in love with him, because he -cavaliers you around just the same as he does me, but that’s no reason -why I should.” And Maimie was crushed for the time. - - -Now that Usk and Félicia were engaged, an impartial observer, with a -mind appreciative of irony, might have enjoyed watching the attitudes -assumed by the different persons concerned. Maimie, openly -contemptuous for a moment, became calm and tolerant after the first -shock of surprise, allowing Félicia to see that she did not take the -matter at all seriously. If Félicia chose to break a country heart -for pastime, it was no one’s business but her own, and the owner of -the heart had only himself to thank if he took for love the frame of -mind induced by propinquity succeeding _ennui_. Félicia, feeling -bound to justify her action in Maimie’s eyes, overdid her part -wofully. She raised Usk to the seventh heaven of delight by what -seemed to him her utter self-surrender. He had never imagined that she -could give herself up to him so unreservedly, although he had quite -expected that she would monopolise his time and services, as she did. -But that she should wish--nay, order him to be at her side all day, -this filled him with a sense of wholly undeserved joy, since he could -not tell that she was playing with one eye on Maimie. - -It was not long before the engagement became known in the county, -although it was not to be publicly announced until six months had -elapsed after Mr Steinherz’s death. Local interest in the event was -tremendous, and the dwellers in the neighbourhood learned to watch -almost daily for the Castle dogcart, with the ‘young lord’ driving, -and the beautiful lady muffled in furs at his side. Félicia’s neglect -of her complexion was positively heroic at this time, but fortunately -the weather was mild, and Maimie showed herself truly forgiving where -face-washes were concerned. - -“I guessed the fault was in the companion, and not the climate, when -you wouldn’t go out driving with me, Félicia,” said Lord Caerleon, -laughing, as he helped her out of the cart one day, and Félicia had -the grace to blush. - -“I don’t see but I’m real English now, just like Phil,” she answered -brightly, for Maimie’s benefit. - -Perhaps the happiest of the onlookers at this juncture was Lady -Caerleon. She forced herself to rejoice in Usk’s happiness, in a way -only possible to a woman whose tendency through life had been to -choose the most disagreeable path that offered itself, in the -conviction that it was the right one. Her husband, much as he admired -Félicia’s beauty, grumbled a little in private that Usk should choose -an American bride, and one who took no interest in social questions, -but Lady Caerleon persisted that love would set everything right. -Félicia had even learnt to like the country since Usk had come home, -and very soon, no doubt, she would be taking an active interest in the -Temperance cause. In the kindness of her heart the mother even petted -Maimie, for whom she still felt an instinctive distrust, and devised -all sorts of little pleasures for her, to soften the loneliness that -fell to her lot now that Félicia had forsaken her so completely. - - - - - CHAPTER VII. - A FAMILY LIKENESS. - -There was a sense of mystery hanging over the Castle. Visitors were -expected, and a whole suite of apartments, called the Queen’s Rooms -(of course because Queen Elizabeth had occupied them on one of her -progresses), had been prepared for them, much to Félicia’s -astonishment and somewhat to her indignation. It seemed to her that -she and her engagement had sunk into insignificance in view of this -approaching visit of Lord and Lady Cyril Mortimer and the latter’s -son. Why on earth should such a fuss be made about them? she wished to -know; and she took refuge in an insulted determination not to show any -interest in their coming, although Maimie’s eyes expressed abundant -knowledge, and Usk was obviously willing to be questioned. - -Lord Caerleon and his son drove into Aberkerran to meet the -travellers, and afternoon tea was postponed until their return. This -was a fresh grievance for Félicia, who declared herself as limp as a -rag. In the intervals of eyeing the tea-table thirstily, she spared a -little mild wonder for Lady Caerleon, who was moving nervously about -the hall, altering the position of the furniture and rearranging the -folds of curtains. The brougham drove up, and Lady Caerleon flew to -the door to receive the white-haired lady whom her husband led up the -steps. Félicia’s quick eye noticed at once that the visitor was -wearing the most magnificent sables she had ever beheld, but her -amazement was extreme when she saw Lady Caerleon only checked in a -deep reverence by the newcomer’s seizing her hands and kissing her on -both cheeks. - -“Do tell, now!” whispered the astonished observer eagerly to Maimie. -“Aren’t these English people real stiff? or is it because Lady -Caerleon is a foreigner?” - -“Nadia, my dear sister!” the visitor was saying reproachfully, as -Maimie shot a glance of scorn at Félicia, “you will astonish your -young friends. Present them, please--I mean, you will introduce them, -won’t you?” - -As Lady Caerleon complied with the request, in a curiously flurried -manner, Félicia noticed that the stranger’s face did not look old, in -spite of her white hair, and that she had a very sweet smile. In her -bearing there was something so dignified, notwithstanding the -gentleness of her words and looks, that Félicia felt as if she was -being presented at Court. In Lady Cyril’s presence she suddenly saw -herself as an outsider, and began to feel nervous about her manners -and uncomfortable about her voice. - -“But I’ll watch and see how she fixes things,” she told herself, with -returning confidence. “I guess an American woman can just make herself -over if she wants to, and not be beaten by any Eu-ropian court lady.” - -Lord Cyril’s greeting restored her self-complacency. He was “just -ordinary,” she decided at a glance, small and grey-haired, with blue -eyes and unobtrusive manners, but he expressed it as his opinion that -Usk was a very lucky fellow, which showed him to be a person of -discernment. He had brought a secretary with him, it appeared, and his -wife a lady companion, but Lady Cyril’s son, Baron von Neuburg, had -been delayed on the Continent by the breakdown of a train, and would -not arrive till the next day. Félicia was still oppressed by a sense -of mystery. Why did Lady Caerleon seem to leave the initiative in -everything to her sister-in-law, and why was Lady Cyril constantly on -the point of taking the lead in another person’s house, to the obvious -amusement of her husband? The secretary and the lady companion, who -were introduced as M. Paschics and Mlle. Mirkovics, were stiff and -silent, and appeared, no doubt unintentionally, to disapprove of what -was going on; and, most unpardonable of all, Usk’s attention seemed to -be devoted chiefly to his aunt, and not to his betrothed. It was not -until tea was over, and the visitors had been shown to their rooms, -that Félicia was able to mark her sense of his behaviour by refusing -to come into the garden with him to see if there were any primroses -out. Instead, she went upstairs with Maimie. - -“Well!” she said, when they were in their own room, “I would like to -know what’s come to all of the folks. Lady Cyril’s only a dowdy old -thing after all, though her sables are too sweet for words, but they -all treat her just like a queen.” - -“And she is a queen,” said Maimie impatiently, “and her sables were -given her by the Emperor of Scythia. She is Queen Ernestine of -Thracia, who married Count Mortimer two years back, as Mr Hicks has -told you time and time again, and her son, who comes here _incognito_ -to-morrow as Baron von Neuburg, is the King of Thracia. I meant you to -marry him.” - -“Land alive!” was all that Félicia could say. - -“I wanted to make you an empress, and you threw away your chance,” -went on Maimie bitterly. “And this time I was going to have you marry -a king, and a week before he comes you conclude to get engaged to -Usk!” - -“Why, Maimie Logan, have you lost your mind?” cried Félicia, -recovering herself. “You know we would never be let do it.” - -“I know you just would, then. I could fix it.” - -“Well, it’s too late now, and I don’t care, any way. Usk is a real -good fellow, and his folks are just lovely. I’m on yet.” - -“I do wonder how you’ll feel when you come to live way down in the -country all of the year, and be out in the air mornings and afternoons -and evenings. You’ll have a nice round contented face like the Jones -girls by then, rosy-cheeked and blowsy and dairymaidish.” - -“You needn’t be nasty.” Félicia went to the glass and examined her -face with some anxiety, but the pure creamy pallor was not yet -vulgarised by any touch of red. She laughed. “Not much harm done this -far, Maimie. I’ll tell you when I’m tired of Usk, any way.” - -“No, you won’t,” said Maimie calmly. “You’re tired of him already. -It’s getting more and more of a trial to have him stick to you the way -he does, but you let him do it just to make me mad. When you’re tired -clear out, you can let me know.” - -“And you can round up a few of the kings you keep on hand, and have me -choose,” responded Félicia. - - -Now that her perplexity was at an end, Félicia was prepared to take -full advantage of the situation. Queen Ernestine’s obvious difficulty -in masquerading in the English household as a younger son’s wife -afforded her a malicious amusement, and she could not pardon Usk for -refusing to respond to the frequent glances she flashed at him. At the -same time, she watched the royal lady narrowly, hoping to discover the -source of the peculiarly dignified charm of manner which characterised -her. Those who knew could have told Félicia that it was the outcome -of a life of sadness and self-repression, crowned at last with a tardy -happiness chastened by apprehension. Her own soul, however, was not -sufficiently awake to note more than that the Queen seemed to do and -say the right thing by instinct, and that the grace of her bearing was -only equalled by her consideration for others. Knowing little of her -story, Félicia was captivated by her personality--although the -attraction was no bar to the entertainment she derived from seeing her -in a false position--and she felt quite virtuously indignant when -Maimie, by what seemed an unpardonable piece of _gaucherie_, brought a -shadow into the beautiful changeful eyes. - -It appeared as though a demon of mischief had taken possession of -Maimie that evening. The secretary and Mlle. Mirkovics had discreetly -excused themselves after dinner, leaving the family party alone, and -the four elders were gathered by the fire, talking. Usk and Félicia -occupied a three-cornered settee at a little distance--it was a piece -of furniture Usk liked, because the form of the seat obliged him to -turn round and rest his arm on the back, if he was to face Félicia in -talking to her. Between the two groups, at a little table close to the -standard lamp, sat Maimie, looking through the annual volume of an -illustrated paper some twenty or thirty years old, which she had -disinterred from the library for reasons best known to herself. -Occasionally she interjected remarks into the conversation of the -party by the fire, enjoying the delightful feeling that she was -outraging all etiquette, and yet that no one could rebuke her. It -happened that the talk turned upon the escapade of a young member of a -German princely family, who had recently disappeared from his home, -and was understood to have managed to join the forces opposed to Great -Britain in a little war which was then raging. - -“Well, now, that’s queer!” said Maimie. “Here in this old paper -there’s a case of the same sort. Just listen: ‘In connection with the -ill-fated Prince Joseph of Arragon, a view of whose yacht, the -Claudine, we published a fortnight ago, a Vindobona correspondent -sends us a romantic story. It is understood that the official accounts -of the Prince’s voyage to the South Seas were merely a blind, and that -his journey was in reality a flight, in which he was accompanied by a -charming young lady of noble birth, whose musical performances have -been the delight of Vindobona this winter. It is even rumoured that -they were privately married. However this may be, it is certain that -not only Fräulein von Lilienkranz, but her duenna, Frau Schlesinger, -and the latter’s daughter Julie, who was her constant attendant, -disappeared at the exact time that the Prince’s voyage was announced. -The keenest interest was felt here as to the _dénoûment_ of the -romance which has been so tragically ended by the Australian -billows----.’ Do tell, Fay!” Maimie broke off shrilly. “Julie -Schlesinger! mightn’t that be my mother’s name? It caught my eye right -away.” - -“See if there’s a portrait,” suggested Félicia. “Maybe it was your -mother in disguise, though I don’t just see how it works out.” - -“No, there isn’t any. It says you couldn’t buy one in Vindobona--that -either the Prince or his family had snapped all of them up, both of -him and the lady, and destroyed them. There’s just the ship, two weeks -back.” - -Usk sprang up, as though to look at the picture, but when he was -stooping over the book he whispered hastily, “Perhaps you don’t know -that Prince Joseph was my aunt’s cousin?” - -“Oh, I’m real sorry. How could I know?” Maimie whispered back, with a -face of guileless innocence touched with anguish. Aloud, she made some -remark about another picture on the same page, and Usk returned to his -former seat. As he did so, he was struck by a certain alert look, -which he knew well, on his uncle’s face. Félicia had turned her head -when Maimie claimed her attention, and the lamplight fell full upon -her profile, which was in a line with that of Queen Ernestine. Usk saw -the two faces from one side, his uncle from the other, but at the same -moment it flashed upon both of them that the profiles were -extraordinarily alike. Lord Cyril cast a glance of calm scrutiny at -his nephew, and resumed the conversation Maimie had interrupted. It -was possible that he regarded the likeness as merely a coincidence, -and Usk hoped this might be the case. - -It might have seemed to strengthen this opinion that Lord Cyril made -no remark to his nephew, but some hours later, when he looked into his -wife’s boudoir, where she was spending a few minutes in chat with the -sallow-faced lady-in-waiting, it was clear that he had not forgotten -what he had seen. - -“And what do you think of your niece that is to be, Ernestine?” he -asked. - -“She is very beautiful,” said the Queen, somewhat doubtfully, “but it -does not seem to me that poor Usk has found her heart yet.” - -“Perhaps she has none to find. What does Mlle. Mirkovics think?” - -“Miss Steinherz has something of the _grand air_, though there is a -want of repose in her manners,” was the temperate reply. “One would -scarcely expect that in an American, perhaps. But she carries herself -like a queen in her own right.” - -“Every American woman is that by right of birth,” said Lord Cyril -lazily. “Does Félicia’s face remind you of any one, Ernestine?” - -“Oh, you have noticed it, then? The likeness haunted me all evening, -until I happened to see her refusing to say good night to Usk. He had -offended her in some way, and she would only let him kiss her hand. -Then I saw a likeness to my aunt Claudine, who married the King of -Cantabria. It was not a happy marriage, you know, Cyril, and her -portrait has a look of haughty resignation about it--a kind of ‘scorn -of scorn.’ It is only in profile that there is a likeness, for none of -our family have that little rosebud mouth or those surprised eyebrows, -and Félicia is much prettier than my aunt ever was.” - -“It’s a curious coincidence,” said Cyril, apparently dismissing the -subject as he left the room, but his mind was still busy with it. -“There are more coincidences in the affair than this one, if I am not -mistaken,” he said to himself. “There was that story which came out at -the inquest, that the girl’s father was murdered by mistake for the -Archduke Ferdinand Joachim. Come, this narrows it down. Weldart and -Hohenstaufen! King Paul of Cantabria married a Weldart, and his mother -was a Hohenstaufen. The girl shows no traces of Albret or Hohenstaufen -features--happily for herself--but the Weldart look is very distinct, -only fined and sharpened as European types so often are after a -generation or two in America. Clearly, then, the deceased ‘Mr -Steinherz’ was a son of Paul and Claudine. There were three of them. -Ramon is still alive, as I know only too well. Florian died young--in -somewhat discreditable circumstances, but he is indubitably dead. -There remains the lost Joseph, and here, I think, we must look for the -link. That shipwreck presents great possibilities. It looks a little -fishy that Prince Joseph and his fair musician--oh, and the maid too, -of course--should have contrived to escape when every one else on -board was drowned. Was there collusion somewhere? I don’t see how or -why the thing was worked. But perhaps they had trans-shipped before -the end came? That’s more likely, and makes the whole thing credible. -Well, Usk knows whatever there is to be known, and if I am at all -acquainted with him, will make a clean breast of the whole matter to -me at the earliest opportunity. Caerleon and Nadia know nothing, nor -does the girl herself. She is too self-conscious to be a good actress. -But the hanger-on--does she know? or was that artless discovery -another coincidence? She also has possibilities. She allowed herself -to be silenced by Usk, which she would hardly have done if she had -been the brainless innocent she was impersonating for the moment. I am -inclined to think she does know, and is keeping the thing dark for -some reason of her own. What that may be is not apparent for the -moment, but I think it is distinctly to the advantage of all concerned -that silence should still be kept. To-morrow I shall probably hear -what Usk thinks about it.” - -The confidence which Cyril anticipated he received the next morning, -when Usk and he were walking into Aberkerran. Queen Ernestine had -invited her sister-in-law and the two girls to assist at the unpacking -of a box of Eastern embroideries she had brought with her from her -Syrian home, and Usk seized the opportunity of obtaining a private -talk with his uncle, who had some telegrams to send off, and asking -his advice. He told his tale as briefly as possible, anxious to make -an end of a disagreeable task, and there were several points on which -Cyril was obliged to seek further information by means of questions. -When it was all clear in his mind, he walked on for a short time in -silence. - -“Is there anything you think I ought to do?” asked Usk at last. - -“Do? What can you do? You are absolutely debarred from enlightening -Félicia, as I understand, or even from informing any one else of the -circumstances. Obviously, then, the only thing that practically -concerns you is the marriage at St Mary Windicotes. That’s your -starting-point. I suppose you didn’t think of running down there to -look up the register before you went to America?” - -“No; I had no opportunity.” - -“Do it when you are next in town, and note especially whether there is -that slip of paper pasted on the inside of the cover, or not. It is -just possible that Steinherz _père_ made up the whole story on the -strength of his likeness to the Archduke, though I allow that would -not account for Félicia’s profile. That marriage once established, -you are safe in England and America, at any rate, for people know -better than to inquire too curiously into the pedigree of heiresses -from the States. Of course it would not hold for a moment in Pannonia. -There you would have to take your stand on the quasi-ceremony which -Steinherz devised to spite his chaplain. If he had lived, it would -almost certainly have been annulled on an appeal to Rome by his -family, but as he was otherwise disposed of, no doubt they thought the -less fuss made the better. As it is, you see, the sole evidence for it -is the word of a dead man, for the other witnesses would know better -than to testify to it unless the Emperor directed them to open their -lips.” - -“But would it in any circumstance be valid?” - -“It is the kind of marriage that may be either valid or invalid at the -will of the families concerned. If it was to the advantage of the -Albrets to consider it an ordinary morganatic marriage, they would -condone Steinherz’s defiance, and probably induce the Emperor to -confer a title of nobility on Félicia. Or if there was something -really important at stake--for instance, if you took it into your head -to revive your father’s claim to Thracia, and made yourself -troublesome in the Balkans, and they found they must buy you off--they -might even be brought to recognise the marriage as fully valid and -regular, and declare Félicia a Princess of Arragon, just as a bribe -to you to stay at home. It has been done, notably about two hundred -years ago, in a case intimately connected with English history, but -naturally, the consideration would have to be a large one. And on the -other hand, if they see no advantage to them in the matter, they can -deny the Pannonian marriage, and refuse to recognise the English one, -and continue to give out officially that Prince Joseph was drowned off -the Australian coast, however forcibly it may be proved to them that -he wasn’t.” - -“I’m glad to hear you say this, for I still feel sometimes as if I was -keeping Félicia out of something that was her due.” - -“You needn’t. By the bye, I suppose Hicks will come to England for -your wedding, about this trustee-business? I should like to go through -these proofs which he has in charge. If I am to be co-trustee, I must -know where we stand. But I don’t think you need be afraid the thing -will ever come out. You won’t haunt the Pannonian Court, I presume?” - -“No, indeed!” said Usk fervently. “England for me!” - -“If Félicia will allow it. Ah, that reminds me. Is the companion--the -Logan girl--supposed to know all this?” - -“Miss Logan? Certainly not. I don’t think anything would have induced -Mr Steinherz to tell her.” - -“Still, that is no bar to her having discovered the facts for herself. -I believe she knows, but I don’t quite see what use she means to make -of her knowledge. I could wish that King Michael was not coming here, -though. Is it necessary to warn you not to let Félicia see too much -of him?” - -“I wouldn’t spy upon her on any account.” - -“Quite unnecessary, if you stick to her as closely as you do now. No -one else could get a word with her. But it’s just possible she may get -a little tired of your constant vigilance.” - -“There’s no vigilance in the matter,” said Usk warmly; “it’s simply -that I like to be with her, of course. And if I didn’t think she liked -it as much as I do, I’d--I’d try to keep away from her a little.” - -“Don’t imagine that I am blaming you or assailing her. I think I have -mastered the art of letting people be miserable in their own way. If -you prefer to be unhappy with Miss Steinherz rather than without her, -far be it from me to interfere, even though your taste may surprise me -as much as my own wife’s does. I merely advise you to remember that -Michael has a truly royal eye for a pretty face, and that Félicia may -not know the exact value of compliments and asseverations from a man -in his position.” - -“What’s bringing him here?” growled Usk. - -“Pecuniary difficulties, of course. The last Drakovics Ministry left -the country plunged in debt, and old Mirkovics, who is as honest as -the day, but no financier, made no attempt to retrench. He thought -that anything spent on the army or on public works must be so much to -the good, while the King felt it his duty to look after the -beautifying of the capital and the formation of the public taste, and -between them they’ve called down the thunderbolt which used to hang -over our heads in the old days.” - -“You mean they’ve encroached upon the interest due on the Scythian -loan?” - -“Encroached? They haven’t paid any interest for three years. Of course -Scythia lay low and accepted their excuses with a pleased smile, and -equally, of course, she is demanding the arrears now.” - -“But what can they do?” - -“Oh, Scythia is most willing to suggest terms--and conditions also. -One of the conditions is a Scythian marriage for Michael, and the -others would deliver Thracia over, bound hand and foot, to Scythian -influence. Pannonia and Hercynia are not much inclined to help, having -seen all their warnings disregarded, but they will hardly be able to -remain passive in view of such a complete surrender. The problem of -the moment is to secure their moral support without requiring them to -advance the corresponding cash, and King Michael is coming here in the -hope of solving it.” - -“I see. He has got himself into difficulties, and expects you to get -him out of them?” - -“Quite so. As soon as he found himself in this fix, he telegraphed to -request me to return and reorganise Thracia. It showed a touching -faith in me; and once, no doubt, I could have done what he expects of -me, but not now. All I can do is to go through his affairs, and give -him the advice of an ordinary business man--no brilliant strokes at -this time of day. I know he thinks I can raise the necessary money -among my Jewish friends by my personal influence, but they have -something else on hand.” - -“But do you mean,” cried Usk indignantly, “that King Michael insisted -on your coming back to Europe in spite of the risk, and that is why -you are here?” - -“You forget that he’s my wife’s son. It pleases his mother when he -turns to me for help, and I am glad to do what I can for him. But I -had other reasons for coming home. There is one of them.” He pointed -to two men, armed with fishing-rods and baskets, who passed at the -moment, saluting Usk with marked deference. - -“But those are the detectives who are down here to look after King -Michael,” said Usk. “The stout one comes from Scotland Yard, and is -sent by our Government, and the other, who belongs to some private -office, is employed by the Thracian Minister.” - -“He may belong to any number of private offices, but he is employed by -the Scythian Secret Police, and he is here to spy upon me.” - -“And my father has given him free leave to go anywhere he likes on our -land, and to fish, and so on, and he has taken up his quarters in the -village!” cried Usk, aghast. “But we’ll soon kick him out.” - -“I beg you won’t do anything of the kind. His presence here is a -testimony to my former importance, which I find very soothing. -Moreover, he is to be made useful. You saw those cipher telegrams I -sent off just now? They all have to do with a Zionist scheme for -making me Prince of Palestine, and while I am here I shall be -continually having letters and telegrams and even visitors, all -connected with the same thing.” - -“But this fellow will be spying about and spoil everything.” - -“He will see and report everything, for that is what he is meant to -do, but he will spoil nothing. The whole thing is a blind, intended -just to keep the spies busy, and the rank and file of the Children of -Zion quiet, for fear of their doing something rash. The real plot is a -very different matter. You may as well know the main idea. The United -Nation Syndicate has been reconstituted, but its object is to be -attained in a new way. So long as Scythia holds Jerusalem, the Jewish -ideal is necessarily incapable of realisation. She cannot be -dispossessed by force; can diplomacy do anything? Besides the Jews -there is another very powerful body whose interest it is to get her -out, and both these communities have fixed upon a certain person as -able to do it if any one can. No; I am not the happy man. My part is -merely to cover up his tracks.” - -“But the risk!” cried Usk. “Why should you run into danger for the -sake of this other man?” - -“To do old friends a good turn, I suppose. Or perhaps, now that I -can’t play the game myself, it’s the next best thing to see other -people doing it well. Have you guessed who the man is? It’s Malasorte, -the Neustrian Pretender. He is to be assisted to make himself emperor -at last.” - -“But I don’t see----How will that----?” Usk was unwontedly perturbed. - -“The Jesuits will arrange things for him at home, the Jews abroad. -Moral support and ready cash, the two indispensables again. In return -for their help, he has promised the Jews to turn Scythia out of -Palestine.” - -“And what has he promised the Jesuits?” - -“Ah, that I don’t know, and there, it seems to me, is the weak point. -What if the Jesuits also want Jerusalem? If so, he may hand it over to -the Jews first, and then kick them out of it for the benefit of the -other lot. ‘_Mala sorte, buona fede_’ is the family motto, you know, -but no one ever thinks of quoting it except as ‘_Buona sorte, mala -fede_.’” - -“But why do the Jews and the Jesuits both think so much of him?” - -“He is a very unusual man, no one can doubt it. His enemies are fond -of asserting that he is not a genuine Malasorte, but his likeness to -Timoleon I. is enough to disprove that calumny. His father was in the -Scythian service, and married a Greek lady, descended, of course, from -the Byzantine Emperors. That gives him a great pull with the Orthodox, -and he is a personal friend of the Emperor of Scythia, who is very -much under his influence. He believes he can induce him to withdraw -his troops from Palestine, and Goldberg and the rest believe it too. -So he is to have his chance.” - -“It’s awfully queer how things are mixed up,” said Usk. “Do you know -this chap wanted to marry Félicia?” - -“This same man--Timoleon Lucanor? Yes, I remember, he was military -attaché at Washington. And why didn’t he?” - -“Her father didn’t think his chances good enough, I fancy.” - -“No; I think the blood of the Albrets rose against the _parvenu_, even -then. But this is interesting, Usk. Could Malasorte have had any idea -of Mr Steinherz’s secret? No, of course not. He would not have allowed -himself to be choked off in that case. It was the money he was after, -and he missed what would have been better to him than millions. Did -Miss Logan approve of his suit, do you know?” - -“Yes; Hicks said she pushed it all she knew.” - -“And yet she didn’t tell him? It’s pretty clear, then, that whatever -she knows she has learnt since. My dear Usk, you may thank your stars -that I am a wretched crack-brained failure, if you want to keep your -Félicia. There are the makings of a most tremendous plot lying -about--infinite possibilities--and I can’t see how to put them -together.” - - - - - CHAPTER VIII. - LOVE IN IDLENESS. - -The arrival of Baron von Neuburg, otherwise King Michael of Thracia, -did not add to the gaiety of the circle at the Castle. Scarcely more -than a boy in years, his face was so curiously old that not only Usk -but his father looked young beside him, and his manner was weary -almost to the point of exhaustion. - -“I don’t take much stock in kings generally,” Félicia remarked to Usk -after the new-comer had been presented to her; “but for the sake of -the rest I hope this one’s a bad sample.” - -“He’s not a particularly good specimen, certainly. Aren’t his ways -awfully riling?” - -“Yes,” agreed Félicia; “that’s where the difference comes in between -him and your uncle. Lord Cyril is just elegant. He has dipped into -everything, and got pretty tired, but he don’t advertise the fact. The -Baron has done it too, and parades his weariness, and that’s rude.” - -“I’m glad you don’t care for him,” said Usk honestly. “He’s not--not -the sort of fellow I should like to see you take to.” - -“Don’t you know that by saying that you’re just daring me to be as -sweet to him as I know how?” - -“Oh, I know people say that sort of thing about women, but no nice -woman would go and make up to a man of bad character simply because -she was warned against him.” - -“Then I’m a nice woman? Well, I guess you’ll expect me do something -for you in return for that acknowledgment, and I’d admire to teach the -Baron a lesson.” - -“Not by way of breaking his heart, please.” - -“Not while you’re around, any way. But I’d like to have him know what -folks would think of him if he didn’t just happen to be a king.” - -It is possible that Félicia set to work with all the more gusto that -she was conscious of a personal injury at her introduction to the -King. To her mind his look had expressed no recognition of the fact -that he was being presented to a very beautiful woman. Maimie also had -noticed this insensibility, and she commented upon it to Félicia, -with a certain lack of tact. - -“You see, Fay, he can just tolerate having you around as the future -Lady Usk, but it’s quite beyond him to show any interest in an -untitled American girl. She’s way down under his feet in the mud -somewhere.” - -“Well, I guess it’ll maybe interest him to know what the American girl -thinks about him.” - -“Don’t see how you’re going to have him feel it, any way. Say, Fay, -Usk is real devoted, isn’t he? I’m glad you’ve taken him instead of -the King now I’ve seen him, don’t you think! He’s solid good right -through. He won’t ever have you find out anything new and unpleasant -about him. Every day of his life he’ll come to meet you mornings with -a flower, just as his father does to Lady Caerleon, and he’ll like -nothing better evenings than sit alone with you and read the ‘Times’ -out loud.” - -“Guess I’ll fix things differently to that.” - -“You’d better not. His way will save you a pretty good deal of -trouble. He’ll like you to be the same all the time, just as he is. -And so’s you’re just decently civil to him, he’ll never be ugly. It’s -only with a man like the Baron you need to be smart, for you lose him -if he’s away out of your sight a moment.” - -“Well, I incline to think the Baron will need to be smart this next -week.” - -In all probability the Baron was of the same opinion before the week -was over. He had come prepared to take the lead in the general -conversation, even if he did not monopolise it, and nothing was -further from his thoughts than that this little nobody of an American, -whom the Caerleons had managed to pick up for Usk on account of her -money, should take it upon herself to dispute his right. Young as he -was, King Michael had already ruled so long that it seemed to him only -natural to be the autocrat of any table at which he sat, and it was -whispered that his meetings with other monarchs were few and far -between, and also extremely short, by reason of this genial habit of -mind. It was a tremendous shock to find himself called upon for -explanations, laughed at for his choice of words, even contradicted, -and all by a radiant being who flashed provoking glances at him from -magnificent eyes, and having annihilated him, turned with irritating -nonchalance to engage Usk in a low-toned conversation punctuated with -soft looks. - -To Usk himself these favours, thus publicly conferred, were the -reverse of delightful. His hospitable soul was wounded by the -treatment meted out to the guest, and he could not help feeling that -it was bad form in Félicia to emphasise his own happier position at -every opportunity. When he ventured to remonstrate, however, his only -reward was a severe snubbing in private, for Félicia was not to be -turned from her prey. Lord Cyril, to whom Lady Caerleon appealed in -distress, laughed at the whole thing, and declared that Félicia’s -scorn was the best possible tonic for his stepson. To have met her -would be a liberal education for him, provided she continued the -treatment to the end of his visit, and did not soften towards him for -a moment. But there was no need for her to do this. It was enough for -King Michael to notice the difference in her manner when she turned to -Usk. When a rarely beautiful woman treats one man to nothing but -gibes, and lavishes tenderness upon another who looks rather -uncomfortable under the process, it is not in human nature not to wish -to be in the other man’s place for once. - -Maimie had been watching eagerly for the King to reach this point, but -here she found herself at a standstill. All this time she had been -cultivating the acquaintance of the aide-de-camp, Captain Andreivics, -who had accompanied King Michael, and was introduced as his “friend.” -She had picked his brains to such good purpose that she knew as much -as he did of the King’s circumstances, and had gone far beyond him in -the deductions she drew. He could not tell her exactly how the long -hours were spent when the King and his stepfather were closeted every -morning with vast piles of papers, but she knew. She could picture -Cyril exposing pitilessly the extravagance, laxity, and corruption -which had spread through every department of State since he had left -Thracia, and indicating reforms and economies which would put matters -straight if the present crisis could be tided over, but performing no -miracle to provide the money urgently needed at the moment. It was -from the aide-de-camp, however, that she heard how one morning the -King dashed away the papers with the pettish remark, “Really, Count, -your brain seems as strong as ever for all these absurd trivialities. -Why is it that you refuse to return to Thracia and get me out of my -difficulty?” and how the incisive answer flashed forth, “If my brain -was as strong as ever, sir, I should not be busy with these -trivialities. I should be holding the balance of power in Europe.” She -knew that both Cyril and the King had reluctantly come to the -conclusion that, failing the much-needed miracle, there was only one -thing to be done. The King must journey homewards by way of the -Riviera, where the Scythian Princess who had been proposed for his -acceptance was sojourning. There was a bare hope that his apparent -intention of falling in with the arrangement suggested by Scythia -might alarm his Pannonian and Hercynian relations into some attempt to -prevent the threatened surrender. - -Maimie ground her teeth, metaphorically speaking, over this deadlock. -There were Félicia’s millions, far more than sufficient to fill the -yawning gulf, for the sum which could bring a Balkan State to -bankruptcy was trivial in American eyes, and no one seemed to have -thought of making use of them. The King, however much he might admire -the girl of whose beauty he had at last become conscious, had not the -slightest thought of marrying her, and Cyril would take no step to -utilise those convenient millions, even if they ever occurred to him, -because Félicia happened to be engaged to Usk. Maimie felt that she -had no patience with Usk, who to the injury of existing added insult -by hanging about Félicia so perpetually that the King had no -opportunity of getting up a flirtation with her even if he desired it. -If Usk would only run up to town for a day or two! but he remained in -Félicia’s near neighbourhood as persistently as if he had known of -Maimie’s designs and meant to thwart them. Captain Andreivics it was -who returned to London two days before the time fixed for the King’s -departure, and with no better excuse than the stereotyped one of -“urgent business,” so that Maimie lost her cavalier. - -At last, just when Maimie was gloomily revolving in her mind various -desperate expedients for removing Usk from Félicia’s side, the motive -force required was suddenly imparted from without. It came in the form -of a letter from Mr Forfar, the Prime Minister, to Lord Caerleon, -asking whether Usk was still thinking of entering Parliament. If so, -he could do a great service to the party (to which the Marquis had -always lent a loyal, if discriminating support, since his own entry on -public life), by allowing himself to be adopted as the future -candidate for a great Northern constituency. The sitting member was -old and feeble, but had stoutly refused to tolerate the mention of a -successor until recently, when a severe illness had given him a -fright. He was now willing to allow a suitable “under-study” to be -introduced to the party managers and make himself known in the -constituency; and as the supporters of the Temperance cause were well -organised and powerful, what more suitable candidate could be found -than the son of the life-long Temperance champion? Neither Usk nor his -father hesitated a moment in accepting the offer. The great banquet, -at which Sir James Morrell had reluctantly undertaken to present his -successor to the association which had so often shared with him the -sweets of victory, was to take place two nights after the arrival of -Mr Forfar’s letter, and there was no time to be lost. Usk dashed -upstairs in high excitement to pack his bag, while his father went -round to the stables himself to order the dogcart, and Lady Caerleon -interviewed the cook on the subject of sandwiches. It never entered -Usk’s mind that any one could dream he would let slip this -long-desired opportunity, and he sent an eager message by Maimie -begging Félicia, who was breakfasting in her own room, to drive to -the station with him. When he came downstairs with his bag, however, -he found her still in her “wrapper,” as she called the frilled and -beribboned garment which Lady Caerleon always felt ought not to make -its appearance outside a bedroom. Maimie had insisted on her getting -up when she brought Usk’s message, and she was obliged to make a very -hasty toilet, much to her disgust. She did not appear to suitable -advantage, she felt, unless Pringle’s skilful fingers had proper time -for their work. - -“Why, Fay, aren’t you coming, then?” cried Usk, when he saw her. - -“I guess not,” responded Félicia laconically. - -“Well, you’ll wish me joy, won’t you? This is the beginning, you -know.” - -“Of what? The beginning of the end?” - -“What do you mean?” Usk was too happy and too much excited to make any -attempt to understand. “Why, it’s my chance at last--what we’ve talked -of so often.” - -“You have,” corrected Félicia. Then a transient gleam of brightness -showed itself. “Canvassing, do you mean? Then I suppose we are all to -trail you along?” - -“Oh no, that would be a little previous,” laughed Usk. “I’m only going -to be introduced to the party. There’s no election on at present.” - -“I want to know! You’re leaving me this way just for an ordinary -ward-meeting? and you don’t so much as ask me whether I choose to have -you go?” - -“Why in the world should I think you’d mind? I thought you would be -delighted. Why, Fay!” in utter amazement, for Félicia was weeping -delicately into a lace handkerchief. - -“You said you loved me, and now you’re having the -Baron--everybody--see how little you care for me. You just haven’t the -very slightest consideration for my feelings!” - -Dismayed and astounded, but still utterly puzzled as to the nature of -his offence, Usk knelt down hastily by her chair, and alternately -entreated her forgiveness and adjured her to tell him what he had -done. With him it was a matter of course that the women of a household -should send forth their men to the chances of war or politics with a -brave face and words of cheer, and he could not conceive Félicia’s -feeling hurt at not being consulted. He did not know that Maimie’s -triumphant “Now you see just how much he thinks about you!” was -rankling in her mind, and that she had set her heart on proving her -power over him. When she consented at last to remove the handkerchief -from her eyes, it was merely to intimate that he might consider -himself forgiven if he did not go. Usk sprang to his feet. - -“And lose this chance--give Forfar a slap in the face?” he cried in -astonishment. “Why, Fay, you must be mad! You’re joking, aren’t you? -You couldn’t possibly mean it.” - -“I guess I mean exactly what I say. You’re telling me all the time how -much you love me, but I can’t just seem to realise it.” - -“You mean that you ask me in cold blood to give up this chance, -disappoint my people, offend Forfar, just because--why, it’s for no -reason at all!” - -“I don’t ask you anything,” said Félicia, rising regally, and -throwing him a glance over her shoulder. “I just tell you to do it.” - -“Well, then, I won’t,” returned Usk, with equal candour; but as she -swept towards the door he intercepted her, breaking into a laugh, -“Why, Fay, for the moment I thought you meant it. What a gorgeous -scene we have been making over nothing at all! Now you don’t leave -this room until you say you’re sorry, and signify the same in the -usual manner. There! I’m getting quite a public speaker already.” - -“It’s a pity if your future audiences don’t appreciate you better than -the present one,” said Félicia coldly. “Kindly allow me pass. If you -don’t choose to consult my wishes--well, you’re not the only man in -the world, any way.” - -“Now it would serve you right if I kept you here until you gave in,” -said Usk, “but I hear my father tramping up and down in furious -anxiety about the train. I’ll settle this little matter with you when -I come back, but any token of penitence in the shape of a letter will -receive due consideration. And--just that you mayn’t make yourself -miserable thinking I’m angry with you--there! and there! and as many -more assurances of pardon as you like.” - -He ran along the corridor, still laughing, and Félicia returned -angrily to her own room. It was the laughter that annoyed her. Even if -Usk had refused to yield, he ought to have taken her objection -seriously. He was so sure of her that he thought he could afford to -laugh at her, was he? Very well; it might be advisable to show him -that he need not be quite so sure. - -Maimie, in the meantime, had been taking advantage of the change in -the situation. After giving Usk’s message to Félicia, she wandered -down to the second of the terraces before the Castle, where King -Michael was wont to smoke his after-breakfast cigar. It was his custom -to breakfast in his own rooms, and Maimie felt comfortably certain -that Usk would not have thought of hunting for him in the garden in -order to bid him farewell. When she caught sight of him, he was -walking up and down somewhat listlessly, as though he missed the -companionship of Captain Andreivics, but she saw a change pass over -his face when he heard the tap of her heels on the terrace above. As -she came down the steps, she could see him before he saw her, and it -gave her a keen delight to see his look of disappointment when he met -her at the foot. - -“Good morning, Baron!” she remarked cheerfully. “Say, we shall be left -awfully lonely to-night, shan’t we--what with the Captain leaving -yesterday, and Lord Usk this morning, and you this evening, I -suppose?” - -“I leave to-morrow,” said the King, looking at her with cold surprise. - -“No, is that so? I guess Lord Usk don’t know it, rushing off the way -he has. He would never leave Félicia unguarded a whole day.” - -“Is Miss Steinherz supposed to be in danger from me?” - -Maimie laughed mischievously. “You know your own reputation best, -Baron. I don’t see but Lord Usk thought it wasn’t enough to warn -Félicia against you, the way he has mounted guard over her.” - -“Oh, our friend Usk felt it necessary to warn his bride against me, -did he? I think that was not playing the game, as they say here.” - -“Well, I guess I oughtn’t to have given him away. He knows his way -about, I suppose, and--yes, it was just as well he did it.” - -“Why? Has it produced the opposite effect, as usual, and induced the -young lady to honour me with her friendly interest?” - -Maimie gave him a glance of compassion. “What good would there be in -that?” she asked curtly. “No; it just showed Félicia what he expected -of her, so’s she concluded to satisfy him at any cost to herself.” - -A light seemed to break upon the King. “What! you mean that all this -raillery, all the contempt she has poured upon me for a whole week, -was nothing but an effort to please her bridegroom?” - -“Don’t you try and have me say that Félicia’s an angel,” Maimie -admonished him. “I won’t tell you her secrets, any way. And I don’t -see but you’ll have to stay till to-morrow as you’ve fixed it so; but -I wish you were leaving sooner.” - -“Miss Logan’s interest in my movements does me too much honour. -Perhaps it will gratify her to know that it is possible I may not even -be leaving to-morrow.” - -“Ah, I thought that ‘urgent business’ of the Captain’s covered more -folks’ affairs than his own. You mean he’ll be coming down with more -documents for you to study with Lord Cyril?” - -“I had not meant that----” the King was beginning, but as he caught -the merest hint of scorn in Maimie’s eye, his face assumed an -expression of deep importance. “It is extremely probable. What is the -good of an aide-de-camp but to make himself useful?” - -“An aide-de-camp--do tell!” cried Maimie. “And you’ve called him your -friend all the time! Why, you must be a general, then! Say, General, -they promote people pretty young in your country, don’t they?” - -“Mademoiselle,” said the King severely, “with a young lady who has -contrived to discover so much of my private affairs, it is surely -unnecessary to keep up this wearisome farce?” - -“M. le Baron,” said Maimie, making him a curtsey, “the farce was of -your own providing. If you choose to throw up your part it can’t hurt -me, any way.” - -“You imply that there is another act, if I care to play it?” - -“I don’t imply anything. I’m not taking any risks, if you are.” - -“So be it. I take the risk. Andreivics shall arrive from London with -important documents. Accept my compliments, mademoiselle. I sent him -away because I wished to feel that a few of my secrets still remained -in my own possession. You have secured his return by means of a -diplomacy which my good stepfather in his best days might have -envied.” - -Maimie looked him over with a slow gaze of infinite scorn. “I guess,” -she said calmly, “that you’re sort of acclimatised to being despised? -You seem to lay yourself out for it so naturally. Usk was pretty wise -in warning Félicia against you, and she was doing the best for -herself when she chilled you off. What she can see in you----” - -“Permit me to observe that you are revealing an interesting secret, -mademoiselle,” said the King malignantly. “After what you have said it -would be ungallant in me not to remain here. I telegraph to Andreivics -this morning.” - -“Now we begin to be moving!” said Maimie to herself, as she left him -in speechless contempt. “He don’t even see that I’m having him go the -very way I want him. And now for Fay.” - -She found that Félicia, having worked herself up into a high state of -resentment against Usk, had determined to punish him by entering upon -a flirtation with the King. Maimie shook her head when Félicia -declared her intentions. - -“I wouldn’t, Fay,” she said. “You’ve done elegantly this far, the way -you’ve frozen him off. You’ll only get all of your affairs into a -snarl. And what’s more, I don’t believe he’s to be had. He knows just -how to take care of himself, and I can’t seem to see you making any -sort of impression on him.” - -This was all that was needed to put Félicia on her mettle. - -“Maimie Logan,” she said decisively, “did you ever know any man that -could take care of himself when I was around? I guess Usk will be -sorry that he went off this way.” - -“Why, what do you mean doing?” Maimie’s tone was full of alarm. - -“Oh, just make things uncomfortable a little--nothing more.” - -“But if Usk will just stay away four or five days, there’ll be a good -deal more,” was Maimie’s mental comment. - - -“Michael,” said Queen Ernestine to her son four days later, when she -had succeeded after many vain attempts in finding him alone, “don’t -you think you are paying rather too much attention to Miss Steinherz?” - -She spoke timidly, anticipating the black frown which gathered at once -upon King Michael’s brow, as he bestowed a mental curse upon -Félicia’s methods. It was not in her nature to be content with a -secret adoration. The King might waylay her in the garden if he chose, -or look for her in her favourite nook in the picture-gallery, and -enjoy her society until Maimie, posted judiciously near at hand, felt -it her duty to interrupt them, but he must not attempt to hide his -chains in public. Hence King Michael’s relations had the pleasure of -seeing him dancing attendance upon the whims of a languid beauty, who -had vouchsafed to lay aside much of her sharpness of tongue, but still -betrayed no delight in his attentions. Even Usk could not have desired -more absolute unconsciousness of her conquest than Félicia exhibited. - -“Have you ever known me forget my position?” King Michael asked at -last, when his mother’s face had grown more and more anxious. - -“Never,” she answered, recalling many memories at once humorous and -pathetic. - -“Then rest assured that I never shall.” - -“But, dear,” urged the Queen, “in that case would it not be as well to -return to London? It looks--mind, I only say it looks--as if you were -taking advantage of Usk’s prolonged absence to rob him of his bride’s -affections, and you would not wish to do that.” - -“Count Mortimer has already given me a pretty strong hint to go, but I -will not leave my work undone.” - -“But he told me to-day that it was all finished.” - -“On the contrary, it is only half-done,” was the reply, with an -enigmatical smile. “Who would have thought I should become so deeply -interested in a matter entered upon so lightly?” - -“So lightly--when the future of your kingdom and your own happiness -may depend upon the arrangements you are able to make?” cried the -Queen, in surprise. “You don’t take things seriously enough, Michael.” - -“Possibly not, but sometimes things take me seriously, quite against -my will.” - - * * * * * * * * - -“I would just love to hustle some folks a little!” Maimie was -reflecting, much about the same time. “Usk will arrive home in a day -or two, and I’d like to have things fixed. I never thought the Baron -would have so much grit in him, but the way he fights off a definite -declaration is real fine. But Fay is even with him there. What with -his precious kingdom, and her engagement, they can’t seem to get on at -all. And until they do, I can’t step in as fairy godmother to put -things straight.” - -While the thought was still in her mind, the door opened violently, -and Félicia ran in. Flinging herself upon the sofa, she began to cry, -not weeping in the artistic way which had damped Usk’s departure, but -shedding genuine tears of disappointment and mortification. - -“I’ll never forgive you!” she sobbed out to Maimie. “This is the -second time you’ve put me in just the most horrid sort of a position. -You had me encourage the Malasorte man until he cooled off of his own -accord, and now the King has told me in so many words that he can’t -ask me to marry him--after having me say I cared for him. I wouldn’t -mind so much but for that.” - -“Well, you can marry Usk yet,” was the unsympathetic reply. - -“After expecting to be a queen!” fresh sobs followed “He spoke so’s I -really concluded it was all safe. And you sit there and say nothing. I -hate you!” - -“Why?” asked Maimie calmly. - -“How can I help it when you’re so mean and ugly? You told me you could -fix things, and I thought you had fixed them right away. And then you -have all of this happen!” - -“Now look here, Fay,” Maimie grasped her shoulder. “If I operate my -scheme right now, will you promise to give up Usk and marry the King? -I won’t go a step without knowing that.” - -“I don’t feel like giving him up until you have got things fixed. If -they should chance to go wrong, I would just find myself left.” - -“It may be some time before they go right, I grant that, but you must -take some risks. Well, if I let you stay engaged to Usk for the -present, will you break off with him when I give the word?” - -“Ye-es, but you’ll have to be quite sure about it.” - -“I’ll see to that. Where did you leave the King?” - -“On the second terrace. He was real sorry to have to say what he did, -but I was so mad I wouldn’t stop,” said Félicia, with a curious kind -of self-satisfaction. - -“It must be real nice to be able to love folks according to what they -can give you!” soliloquised Maimie, as she went in search of the King. -“She would accept Usk when there was no other man in view, but now the -Baron holds the winning cards--unless there should be any fascinating -emperors around before we get things fixed. But here’s the lucky man!” - -King Michael was walking from end to end of the terrace, smoking -moodily. His hands were thrust deep into his pockets, and the blackest -possible frown was on his brow. He was hard hit, Maimie saw, and -scarcely likely to welcome the appearance of the person to whom he -might consider that he owed his present unhappy frame of mind, but she -met him boldly. - -“Say, Baron,” she said, placing herself in his path, “is it true -you’ve told my Félicia you love her, but can’t marry her?” - -“It is, mademoiselle. If you have chosen this terrace as a promenade, -I will go elsewhere.” - -“Well, if I was a king, I guess I’d marry the woman I loved.” - -“Pardon me, I am not only a king. I am a son of the house of -Schwarzwald-Molzau, and we do not mingle the blood of Charlemagne with -that of--manufacturers.” - -“And so you sigh as a lover and obey as a son? But you wanted to marry -Lord Usk’s sister once, I know, for Mr Hicks told me.” - -The King’s eyes flashed gloomily. “I do not understand this -catechism,” he said angrily. “It is intolerable! The Mortimer blood is -equal to that of any semi-royal house in Europe, and there were -special reasons why a marriage with Lady Philippa would have been very -pleasing to my subjects.” - -“Well, I guess a marriage with a Princess of Arragon would about -satisfy them, any way.” - -“Not if she were a Catholic.” - -“Is that so? Well, the girl you have just told that you love her and -can’t marry her is a Princess of Arragon and a Protestant.” - -“Impossible. I know the Prince of Arragon’s three daughters well, and -Don Florian’s only daughter is married to another cousin of mine.” - -“You are forgetting. There was a third brother.” - -“Don José? But he was not married. Oh, I remember there was some talk -of a morganatic marriage. But that is not to the purpose.” - -“Excuse me, but I guess it’s very much to the purpose.” - -“Allow me to say that you do not know how these things are -regarded--how I regard them, necessarily.” - -“But suppose the marriage was recognised? Wait, I’ll tell you about -it,” and she ran through the circumstances hastily. “If the marriage -was good enough for the Arragon family to accept Félicia as one of -themselves, I guess it would be good enough for you?” - -“Undoubtedly; but I do not see the faintest likelihood that the House -of Albret would recognise the marriage.” - -“That’s where your help would be wanted. I’d like you to lay the whole -thing before Lord Cyril to-day, and have him operate it.” - -But the King started back, aghast. “My dear Miss Logan, do you not see -that it would be fatal--suicidal--for me to appear in the matter? -Count Mortimer has his nephew’s interests to consider.” - -“That is so; we mustn’t go ahead too fast,” said Maimie. “Then you -incline to think Félicia and I may fight all of the battle for -ourselves?” - -“Quite so. There can be no objection to your consulting Count -Mortimer, purely on her behalf, you know; and if by any chance your -efforts should be crowned with success, why--you have given me hope--I -am happy again!” - -“Oh no, you aren’t--not yet. We shall want your help any way. I know -well enough there’s no hope of having Félicia’s family recognise her -unless some one puts pressure on them. Are you ready to intimate at -the critical moment that you are real keen on marrying her, if they -can fix things right?” - -“That would be highly injudicious. I think I had better not -appear----” - -“As you please. You throw up your cards, then, and Félicia will just -marry Usk.” - -“You place me in a most difficult position, but rather than lose -Félicia----” - -“I thought so. Then you would better go way back to the Riviera right -now, and make a little gentle love to the Grand-Duchess Sonya, just to -keep your folks sort of interested, you know. I’ll let you hear when -you’re wanted.” - - - - - CHAPTER IX. - A CHANGE OF VENUE. - -“Why, Uncle Cyril! how awfully good of you to come and meet me!” Yet -Usk’s eyes strayed to the dogcart waiting in the road just beyond the -station fence, and the stolid groom in charge of it. “Is--is any one -else here?” - -“No; Félicia is not here. What do you think of putting your bag into -the cart, and walking up?” - -“All right. I shall be glad to stretch my legs. Félicia isn’t ill, is -she?” - -“I saw no signs of it when I started. But why should you expect her to -meet you? I understood you and she had quarrelled?” - -“Quarrelled? Why, it was nothing--the most utter nonsense! She never -wrote me a word for four whole days, though. But I wrote to her every -day, and at last, on the fifth evening, I had a letter from her--an -awfully jolly letter, but making the most tremendous fuss about the -way she had behaved, calling herself names, and all sorts of things. -It seemed so uncalled-for that I really thought she must be going to -be ill, for she’s not a bit morbid generally, is she?” - -“Few people less so, I should think. The letter reached you five days -after you left here, you say. It was written the day before, of -course?” - -“The evening before. I know she said she was writing when the house -was quiet. But I’m awfully glad she’s all right. She’s so unexpected, -isn’t she? You never can tell what she’ll do next.” - -“I used to notice the same thing about my wife in the early days of -our acquaintance. There is a peculiar charm about that unexpectedness -when it is introduced into politics. It quite prevents any feeling of -flatness.” - -“Now one would have imagined”--Usk was still pursuing his own train of -thought--“that she would have come to meet me after that letter.” - -“The unexpected again, you see.” - -“But how did you know anything about our----? Well, it wasn’t a -quarrel----” - -“The suspension of friendly relations? I inferred it from what I saw -after you were gone.” - -“And you spoke to Félicia? Very kind of you, I’m sure, but--well, you -know----” - -“You prefer to conduct your own love affairs? Quite so. Make your mind -easy; I did not speak to Félicia. But if I remember rightly, I did -send you in your mother’s letter a strong hint not to stay away more -than the two days you intended at first.” - -“Yes, I know, but you said ‘unless it will damage your chances,’ and -it would have done, horribly. You see, it was such a piece of good -luck old Morrell’s taking to me so tremendously, when he had hated the -very mention of a successor before, that I couldn’t go and hurt his -feelings. He would drag me round the constituency, and hunt up all the -local organisers to introduce me to them, and we really covered an -immense amount of ground. The party agent said I couldn’t have made a -better start.” - -“Don’t think I want to see you less keen. It isn’t that. Did Félicia -tell you any news in her letter--anything that had happened?” - -“No; there was nothing of that sort. But really, Uncle Cyril, I don’t -think she was angry with me for staying away. I wrote her awfully long -letters--and sent her things, too. She couldn’t think I had forgotten -her.” - -“I never thought she did. But did she express regret for anything in -particular, or merely for her general treatment of you? I have an -object in asking,” as Usk looked at him in surprise. “Don’t think it’s -mere curiosity.” - -“She didn’t mention anything definite--except just to say that if -things went wrong between us, it was Maimie Logan’s fault, not hers, -which I could have told her myself. Oh, by the bye, that’s another -queer thing. I had an hour or two to spare in town, so I ran down to -Bradcross and looked up Mr and Mrs Steinherz’s marriage at St Mary -Windicotes. It was there all right, but the queer thing is that some -months ago a lady came and asked about it, and got a copy of the -entry, and I’m pretty sure it was Miss Logan.” - -“Exactly what I thought. How did you find out?” - -“There was the paper pasted on the inside of the cover, just as Mr -Steinherz said, and I tried one of the corners with my nail to see if -it was loose. Then the clerk’s wife, who had been in a great state of -excitement ever since she heard what entry I wanted to see, cried out, -‘Why, that’s just what the lady did as come here in the autumn!’ When -I said, ‘What lady?’ she nearly had a fit, and refused point-blank to -tell me anything, saying she wished she had bitten her tongue off -before the words slipped out. I tried the usual persuasive, and -assured her that I had the strongest possible reasons for wishing good -and not harm to Mr and Mrs Bertram, as she called them, and their -descendants, and at last I got it out of her that the lady was not -old, and not very young, not a regular foreigner, but not quite -English, and dressed very smartly,--‘fine enough for a carriage,’ the -old woman said, which is just what every one here says about these two -girls whenever they go out walking. Then she told me what her voice -was like, and I couldn’t doubt for a moment that it was Miss Logan.” - -“This is most interesting. When did you say it happened?” - -“About six months ago, as far as I could make out. Either just before -or just after Mr Steinherz’s death, I should think.” - -“When she was in London, of course. Well, I am glad to have this -cleared up. She told me a lame story of having been put on the track -by some writing in an old prayer-book belonging to her mother, and -said she had pieced together into a coherent whole things remembered -from childhood and details picked up since.” - -“She told you!” - -“Yes; that is the piece of news I wondered whether you had heard. She -knows the whole story, and has confided it to Félicia, and Félicia -will be satisfied with nothing short of full rights and recognition. -The story, as she told it, was less detailed than what I had heard -from you, but it corresponded with it so exactly that I felt certain -she could not have developed it in the way she made out. After this -discovery of yours, I haven’t a doubt that she was listening, either -when Mr Steinherz explained things to you, or when he made Hicks -Félicia’s trustee--no, scarcely that, unless he read aloud to him the -attested statement which was to be left in his charge. Well, we can’t -prove it against her, but that’s the truth, I feel certain.” - -“And Félicia knows--the whole thing?” - -“The whole thing. Now, Usk, I am going to depart for once from my -invariable rule, and give you a piece of good advice. There are two -ways in which you can take this. Either you could throw yourself into -Félicia’s view of the matter, and do everything in your power to help -her press her claim--which is never likely to be established. Do you -feel yourself debarred from such a course as that?” - -“Absolutely, by my repeated promise to Mr Steinherz.” - -“I thought so. Then here’s the alternative. Forbid Félicia to take -any step in the matter. Let her understand that if she does, -everything is over between you. Give her the choice. Otherwise, -whether she wins or loses, you will infallibly drift apart, for no -woman will stand seeing a man indifferent or opposed to an aim which -is the breath of life to her. If she cares for you enough to give it -up for your sake, it’s a different thing.” - -“I couldn’t ask it of her,” said Usk. “In one way, it’s almost a -relief that this has come out. I have always felt as if I was -defrauding her, somehow.” - -“Usk,” said his uncle, “there’s a good deal of your mother in you, and -that makes it perfectly hopeless to offer you any guidance. One could -generally get Caerleon to see reason, after a tremendous amount of -hammering, but nothing but fanaticism would move your mother--in her -young days, of course. Well, I don’t envy you the next few months. I -have cabled to Hicks to let me know the exact nature of the proofs he -holds, and also whether the trustees are debarred like you from -asserting any claim on Félicia’s behalf. It was necessary to find -that out, though those two girls were so impatient of delay that they -were ready to set out for Vindobona there and then, and press the -claim in person. I had to point out to them that Félicia would do -well to remain as far from Pannonia as possible for the present. There -are various approved ways of disposing of inconvenient young ladies -who persist in raking up forgotten scandals, especially when there are -a good many millions in question as well.” - -“Yes. She is safest here, if she is resolved to go on. But what I -can’t make out is why Miss Logan should have been silent so long, if -she knew everything six months ago.” - -“I can’t be certain, but I have my suspicions that my hopeful stepson -comes in somewhere. That’s why I should be glad to see you put your -foot down, and end the matter one way or the other.” - -“You mean that he and Miss Logan are plotting that he shall marry -Félicia if the claim is allowed? Rather fine from their point of -view, wouldn’t it be? But they are reckoning without Félicia.” - -“Where did you get your wide knowledge of women?” asked Cyril, with -intense interest. Usk answered quite unsuspiciously-- - -“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t know many, but I know Félicia.” - -“And you won’t even attempt to dissuade her from pressing the claim?” - -“I mean to tell her how anxious her father was that she should let -things alone, but I can’t help it if she decides not to. It’s her own -concern, and she has a right to judge for herself.” - -It would have been well if Félicia had also been able to adopt this -moderate view, and to concede to Usk the right of judging for himself. -But she demanded not merely his passive permission, but his active -approval, for all that she saw fit to do, and as he was not disposed -to go a step beyond the line he had laid down, the relations between -them became somewhat strained. The two lived in an atmosphere of -argument. Even the low-toned conversations in the drawing-room at -night were devoted to persistent efforts to make Usk confess that -Félicia was in the right, and that her success was certain. He kept -his temper admirably on the whole, but this led only to further -attacks, for Félicia could not believe he was in earnest. She lost -her temper somewhat frequently, but Usk understood that this was due -to “nerves.” - -“I guess I know why you’d like to have me let things slide,” she said -angrily one morning on the terrace. “You’re thinking of the dollars.” - -“The dollars! What dollars?” asked Usk. - -“Mine, of course. Pappa’s pile, which was to procure me the honour of -admission into your noble family.” - -“Are you trying to see what I’m like when I’m ‘riz,’ as Hicks says?” -asked Usk laughing. “Why, Fay, he would tell you that it was the -thought of your dollars that frightened me more than anything--kept me -back for ever so long.” - -“Then what was it made you conclude to go ahead at last?” - -“Look in the glass,” said Usk, and Félicia was mollified. - -“I’m real glad I have the dollars, any way,” she said, slipping her -hand into his arm. “This place wants making over from cellar to -garret.” - -“Does it? I suppose it seems so to other people, but it’s perfect to -us. By the bye, Fay, you hurt old Wright’s feelings terribly the other -day by depreciating his stables.” - -“Why, I only said I’d have those old shacks pulled down, and a real -elegant range of stabling built--just like at Bagatelle.” - -“One may like good horses, and drive them too, without making palaces -of their stables. Ours are all right.” - -“Well, I’ll never be satisfied until they’re just as good as those at -Bagatelle, with all sorts of cunning little notions around everywhere. -Why, even Baron von Neuburg had heard of the Bagatelle stables, and we -made an excursion over there for the day, so’s he might see them. But -there’s just everything to be done to this house and the grounds. I’ve -an idea of a glass piazza to close in that upper terrace, but the -whole front of the house wants modernising real badly.” - -Usk restrained himself with some difficulty. “Perhaps you don’t know -that the Castle is considered one of the finest houses in the -country?” he said. “It would be horribly out of character to try to -make an American summer hotel out of it.” - -“Well, I’d as lief have it that as a ruin,” said Félicia -indifferently. “But it don’t even look old, only shabby. That’s what I -would just admire, to add on towers and battlements, and all that, and -make it a real castle.” - -“A sham castle,” said Usk. “And I don’t think you would care to live -in it.” - -“Oh, I’d have plate-glass windows, and electricity everywhere, of -course. And inside! Why, your mother has the rooms so bare, they feel -to me ’most indecent. When I fix up the picture-gallery, you’ll see -it’ll be just elegant. All those musty old pictures and horrid suits -of armour and swords and things will take a back seat. Now you feel -like looking at them because there’s nothing else to see, but when -I’ve inaugurated my reforms, one of them will just be on hand here and -there as a surprise.” - -“And how do you intend to dispose of them, then?” - -“Why, instead of that horrid old dull tapestry and black panelling, -I’ll have silk hangings in pastel shades, each room a different -colour. I’ll have them weave them on purpose for me in France. And all -those cute little recesses in the gallery I’ll turn into cosy nooks, -with French furniture and nicknacks and Japanese things, and now and -then a suit of armour that’ll just give you the coldest kind of a -shudder. And some of the pictures can be cleaned, and the rest be -hidden back of the hangings. It’ll be too cunning for anything.” - -“Rather!” said Usk, with a short laugh. “I am only delighted to think -that my father and mother will probably be supreme here for twenty or -thirty years yet, happily, and that by that time you’ll have learnt to -be so fond of the Castle that you won’t want to lay a finger on it.” - -“Now that’s real horrid of you!” said Félicia angrily. “I don’t see -but Lord and Lady Caerleon would very well leave the Castle to us, and -go and live some other place. I don’t choose to board, especially with -your folks. I want a house of my own, so’s I can stamp my -individuality upon it.” - -“That you can have in London. There’s no likelihood whatever of my -parents giving up the Castle to us, I am thankful to say. Why should -they?” - -“Why, because they’ve had it ever so long,” cried Félicia. “I shall -want to have house-parties here, when we’re not in town. Say, Usk! -I’ll restore the Abbey, and we’ll have that for our country-house.” - -“The Abbey!” Usk was aghast. “Do you know that all our family are -buried there?” - -“Oh, we’ll soon fix them up somewhere else. Why, I’ll have just the -loveliest sort of house-parties, not like any other person’s. We’ll -call them ‘retreats,’ and I’ll design a cunning little nun’s dress for -every one to wear. The papers will just gloat over it, and all of the -smart set will be fighting for invitations.” - -“I don’t like jokes of this kind,” said Usk, with forced calmness. “Of -course, when you are mistress of the Castle, you can alter the -arrangements as you please, provided you don’t destroy or make away -with the old things, but I give you fair warning that you won’t touch -a single stone of the walls, or do anything to desecrate the Abbey.” - -“Ah, I guess I’ll have to burn the Castle down. Then I can build it up -again as I want it!” said Félicia airily, leaving Usk with the -uncomfortable conviction that she had been joking all the time, and -that he had made a foolish display of strong feeling, and invoked his -authority quite unnecessarily. However, it pleased Félicia so much to -have made him angry at last, that she treated him better for the next -few days, until the tension became acute once more under the influence -of a stray piece of news from the Riviera. - -In answer to Cyril’s telegram, Mr Hicks had cabled that there was -nothing to prevent the trustees from supporting Félicia’s claim, if -she did not consider her father’s strongly expressed wish as binding -on her, and he added such details as to the papers and other objects -left in his charge by Mr Steinherz as enabled Cyril to draw up a -statement at once. The relationship between his wife and the royal -family of Arragon gave him the opportunity of proceeding privately, -much to his satisfaction, for expecting the whole affair to end in -smoke, he did not care for it to be canvassed in the European press. -Félicia would have preferred publicity, for she had been looking -forward confidently to becoming the heroine of the sensation-mongering -American papers, and felt that she was being defrauded of the -interviews and portraits that were her due. She yielded, however, to -the strong pressure brought to bear on her by Maimie, who pointed out -that a Steinherz boom would certainly alienate King Michael, not -knowing that King Michael himself was on the verge of rendering this -precaution unnecessary by carrying out too faithfully his part of the -programme. It was a paragraph in a weekly society paper which made his -doings known at Llandiarmid. Queen Ernestine brought the paper to her -husband when it reached the Castle, and pointed out to him anxiously -the “Lady’s Letter from the Riviera.” - -“Listen to this, Cyril,” she said. “‘Among last week’s arrivals at -Nice was the young King of Thracia, travelling _incognito_ as Baron -von Neuburg. He may be seen every day in close attendance on the -pretty Grand-Duchess Sonya, who is making a short stay at the -Conciliation with her father, the Grand-Duke Eugen of Scythia, and the -announcement of their betrothal is daily expected. It is well known -that the attachment between them is of long standing, but that the -course of true love was interrupted by the attempt of the Dowager -Queen and her English husband to marry King Michael to the latter’s -niece, a daughter of the Marquis of Caerleon. Happily the young lady -was possessed of less ambition or more good sense than her august -relations, and made a love-match with a commoner a year or two ago, so -that her unwilling suitor is at liberty to return to the real object -of his affections.’” - -“It strikes me,” said Cyril, “that there is something more than the -unbridled imagination of the lady journalist at work here. I seem to -recognise the touch of a well-known hand. Let me look.” He turned back -to the beginning of the letter, with its usual altruistic -self-congratulation on the number of distinguished personages -sojourning on the Riviera, and pointed out among them the name of the -Princess Dowager of Dardania. “As usual!” he said. “Well, that -relieves your mind a little, doesn’t it? All the same, it might be as -well to write and advise Michael not to play his part too seriously.” - -But if Cyril’s acuteness, born of experience, had lessened the Queen’s -anxiety, there was no one to reassure Félicia in the same way. She -found the paper that evening and read the paragraph, and the crown -which had been merely shadowy seemed to become real and desirable in -proportion as it receded from her view. She blamed Maimie for -mismanaging things, blamed herself for consenting to remain at -Llandiarmid and prosecute her claim by deputy, and blamed the King -most of all for his inconstancy, showing a jealousy which her own -equivocal position did not by any means justify. She slept little that -night, and Maimie, who sat up for hours alternately arguing with and -soothing her, was at her wits’ end. It was her chief terror that -Félicia might insist on following the King to the Riviera forthwith, -but it would be almost as bad if she betrayed herself by making scenes -at Llandiarmid. She tried to persuade her to remain in bed the next -day, but Félicia refused pettishly, and made her appearance about an -hour before lunch, looking so ghastly that Usk uttered an exclamation -of horror. Unfortunately, this was a fresh grievance. - -“If I am looking sick, you needn’t tell me so,” she complained. - -“But you ought to see the doctor. Let me ride over and fetch him.” - -“No; I want to have you amuse me. Don’t look at me that way. You make -me nervous. Why don’t you say something amusing? I guess you would -make yourself sick worrying if you were tormented like me--not knowing -whether you were a princess or just a no-account girl.” - -“Isn’t it enough to be Miss Steinherz of the United States? Look here, -Fay, why not chuck it all? It’s only making you ill and miserable, and -you have a capital opportunity now. Uncle Cyril asked me to tell you -that Don Ramon of Arragon flatly refuses to recognise or even consider -your claim, and you can accept that as final. Otherwise you’ll have to -approach the Emperor of Pannonia, and go through all this bother -again, with just the same result.” - -“How do you know it would be just the same?” demanded Félicia -sharply. “It’s to your advantage to try and keep me out of my rights, -because you don’t want to lose me.” - -“Well, oughtn’t you to be pleased at that? But I don’t see why I -should lose you if your claim was allowed.” - -“Well, I guess if I was a princess----” - -“You’d throw me over? Thanks, awfully! Do you imagine that if I became -a prince it would make any difference to you?” - -“Ah, but you’d raise me to your level, any way. I couldn’t raise you.” - -“No, indeed, and I’m thankful for it. But don’t let us bother about -such nonsense, Fay. You’re no more likely to be a princess than I am -to be a prince, so why not recognise the fact and withdraw gracefully, -instead of wearing yourself to death worrying about it?” - -“Because I don’t feel like acting that way,” said Félicia -obstinately. “Well, supposing they did acknowledge me, and we had to -break off our engagement, what would you do?” - -“What other men do when they’re jilted, I imagine--grin and bear it.” - -“Would the world become a blank to you? Would you never believe in a -woman again?” - -“I should never believe in you again, certainly. But other women--why, -there’d be the mater and Phil just the same. Why shouldn’t I believe -in them?” - -“Well, you might say you wouldn’t, any way,” pouted Félicia. - -“Look here,” said Usk. “You said you wanted to be amused, and I hope -you are. All this sort of stuff doesn’t amuse me at all. Let’s come -out.” - -“No, thanks. I’m awfully interested, analysing you. I do wish you were -different--sort of imperious, you know, so’s I daren’t disobey you. -I’d love to be made to feel that I just had to do whatever you wanted, -and there was no choice about loving you or anything. It would save so -much trouble.” - -“I’m sorry, for your sake, that I’m not that kind of man. I never met -one, but I’ve read about them in books. Seems to me you’d have a -cheerful time--especially when you wanted to disobey him, and didn’t -dare to.” - -“I guess it would be better than this, any way. I can’t think why -things should be so horrid. I just want to have a good time, that’s -all, and every single thing seems to conspire to prevent it. It’s real -hateful!” and Félicia broke into genuine sobs. Usk’s first impulse -was to walk away, but he restrained it and stood awkwardly by. His own -temper was considerably ruffled by this time, and he was not disposed -to blame himself for Félicia’s tears, but her sobs became more and -more vehement, and he cast his injured dignity to the winds. - -“Don’t, Fay, don’t!” he entreated, kneeling down beside her. “I was a -brute to say what I did. I didn’t mean it--whatever it was; at least, -I didn’t mean you to take it like this. It was my fault, I know. What -was it I said that hurt your feelings? You know I didn’t mean it. Oh, -do stop. Here’s your Maimie coming, and she’ll be sure to say I made -you cry, and I don’t know what I could have said.” - -But Félicia sobbed on, and Maimie glared at Usk as she came up. - -“I do think you’re real horrid,” she said judicially. “Here’s Fay -making herself sick crying, and you teasing her all the time. I’ll -have her go up to town and see a nerve-specialist, now the weather’s -warmer. Your cars are so draughty in winter that I’d just as lief have -taken her to the Arctic. But I know all this is telling upon her -nerves, and it’s awfully bad the way you go on exciting her. Come, -Fay, darling.” - -She swept away the still sobbing Félicia, leaving Usk to mental abuse -of himself and her in turn, and having settled her in her room, went -with a grave face in search of Lady Caerleon. She felt certain that -the shock and strain of the autumn and winter had been too much for -Félicia’s strength, and that it was imperative to take her to a -London doctor at once. Grieved and startled, Lady Caerleon offered to -accompany the two girls herself, but Maimie declined her escort -gracefully. She and Félicia and the maid would run up to town for two -nights, and see whether the complete change from her present -surroundings would do anything to restore Félicia’s cheerfulness. The -inference was obvious, and Lady Caerleon interposed to restrain her -husband when he wished to insist upon accompanying the girls. It was -out of the question, he declared, for them to make the journey alone, -and stay at a hotel by themselves, but his wife was strongly of -opinion that it was better to leave them to take their own course. -Things could not go on as they were at present, and a little -reflection might show Félicia how severely she had of late tried the -patience of her friends. - -It is possible that there was in Lady Caerleon’s mind the thought, or -even the hope, that Félicia might discover that she was happier apart -from Usk, and take the opportunity of breaking off her engagement, but -the actual upshot of the visit to London was quite unexpected. It was -announced in a letter from Maimie, brief and agitated in appearance. - - - “Dear Lady Caerleon,” she wrote, “I’m in the most awful state of - mind about Félicia. The doctor says it would be simply fatal for her - to return to the country at this season. She must just be in a - cheerful place, with lively people around, and everything bright. Most - happily, the letter that arrived when we were starting was from Mrs - van Zyl, repeating her former invitation to Nice, and I have wired to - tell her to expect us right now. We have bought a travelling-suit - each, and a waist or two, here, but we will just take a few hours in - Paris as we pass through, and get some decent gowns. I am sorry to - have quit Llandiarmid so suddenly, but at present I can think of - nothing but Félicia. She looks awfully sick, but I hope to see her - revive in the South. She will insert a note to Lord Usk if she feels - able. Will you kindly send our baggage after us to the Villa - Bougainvillea?” - - -There was no note enclosed, and this omission threw Usk into a -terrible state of alarm. Félicia was ill, perhaps dying, and he was -to blame. He would hear of nothing but rushing off to Nice at once, -and he was throwing his things into a bag when his uncle came down the -corridor and saw his preparations through the open door of his room. - -“I think this is a little unnecessary,” he observed gently. - -“Why, she may be gone before I get there!” cried Usk. - -“Scarcely. It may interest you to know that her boxes and Miss Logan’s -are all packed and locked. It’s no good shutting your eyes to it, Usk. -The visit to the doctor was a polite fiction to enable the girls to -leave the Castle without interference. We will put it more kindly, and -say they were bent on going, and wished to save us the trouble of -dissuading them. The question now is, what are you going to do?” - -“I don’t know why I should do anything but go to her,” said Usk -doggedly. - -“Are you certain you are wanted?” - -Usk turned on his uncle. “If you know anything, say it, and don’t keep -hinting things,” he cried. “Why shouldn’t she want me?” - -“You think you would not be _de trop_ when Michael was present?” - -Usk’s eyes flamed, and he made a step forward, but his hands dropped -suddenly to his side. “I’ll see her,” he said hoarsely, “and tell her -she must choose once for all between that fellow and me. I won’t be -kept hanging on, to be made useful if she doesn’t succeed in landing -him. But I don’t believe it’s that at all. She’s anxious and worried -about this wretched claim of hers, as she told me herself, and it’s -just a chance that he happens to be at Nice.” - -“Very well. As you say, it’s as well to see her before you judge. Your -aunt and I think of going to Nice to look after Michael a little, and -you may as well travel with us, and not rush off in this dramatic way. -You won’t want to make your differences of opinion public, I suppose, -in any case?” - - - - - CHAPTER X. - A DAMSEL IN DISTRESS. - -Nice was looking its loveliest, but to Usk, making his way along the -Promenade des Anglais in the direction of the Villa Bougainvillea, it -was not lovely at all. He was uneasy and troubled in mind, and -thoroughly out of tune with his surroundings, and with the gay groups -of well-dressed people he met. The palms and the sunshine, the blue -sea and the white houses set in flowers and greenery, all jarred with -his mood. Not another word had reached him from Félicia herself or -from Maimie, but although he had only arrived the night before, there -had been time to learn that the Baron von Neuburg now divided his -abundant leisure and his _petits soins_ between the Grand-Duchess -Sonya and a beautiful American girl who was staying with the -fascinating grass-widow, Mrs van Zyl. Even now, as he turned into one -of the side-avenues, in order to reach the smart white house nestling -in its groves of orange- and lemon-trees, he met a motor-car of the -latest and most elaborate construction, and recognised in the two men -who occupied it, disguised as they were by huge spectacles and -mackintosh coats and caps, King Michael and Captain Andreivics. He saw -a meaning glance pass between them as they returned his salute, and he -walked on faster, reaching the villa quickly enough to find the two -ladies who had shared the drive still lingering on the rose-hung -piazza in front of the house. They wore businesslike dust-proof gowns, -edged and faced with highly decorated leather, and their faces were -hidden by long gauze veils crossed behind and tied, French fashion, -under the chin, but Félicia’s exquisite figure was unmistakable, and -Usk mounted the steps without waiting for an invitation. He was -received with a little shriek. - -“Well, now, I was sort of expecting you!” cried Félicia. “It’s just -wonderful how one’s friends find one out. Sadie, this is Viscount Usk, -the son of the kind folks that have been boarding Maimie and me all -winter.” - -A kind of chill ran through Usk’s veins. “She hasn’t even told the -woman of our engagement!” he said to himself. - -“Awfully good of you to come so soon!” said Mrs van Zyl, a small, -sharp-featured woman with artificially bleached hair and a high voice. -“I guess we must change these horrid gowns now, but maybe you’ll _five -o’cloquer_ with us this afternoon. I know there are just about three -hundred people coming.” - -“You are very kind,” said Usk, then he turned to Félicia. “I will -come at any time when it is convenient for _you_ to see me,” he said -pointedly. - -“Well, I don’t see but you can do that at tea,” she replied. - -“Say, Lord Usk, we can’t have you monopolise Miss Steinherz!” cried -Mrs van Zyl. “She’s just about the most popular girl in Nice, and -she’s getting fresh invitations all the time.” - -“I won’t detain her long,” said Usk, not offering to withdraw. - -“Ah, you’re bringing some message from your mother!” said Félicia. -“You come this afternoon, any way, and I’ll see you have a chance to -deliver it.” - -Usk accepted his dismissal, and went away, in no wise comforted. He -said nothing to his uncle or aunt of the reception he had met with, -but in the afternoon he returned to the Villa Bougainvillea with -absolute punctuality, determined to come to an understanding with -Félicia. He was shown into a small room, which was apparently the -private boudoir of the mistress of the house, so full was it of the -rococo and the bizarre. Presently Félicia glided in, in a wonderful -shimmering tea-gown of heliotrope shot with silver, and partly veiled -with long falling scarves of filmy lace, and Usk noticed with a pang -that her whole face and bearing seemed to have changed. There had been -a starved look about her at Llandiarmid, as if the cold northern air -and the simple life of the Castle had afflicted her with actual -pinching hunger, but here she was evidently in her element. The luxury -of the surroundings, the curious and costly objects which over-filled -every corner, seemed only a fitting frame for her beauty. Her face was -calmer and softer in outline, and her voice had lost its sharp tone as -she said, laying a little hand lightly on Usk’s arm-- - -“Are you awfully mad with me, Usk?” - -It would be brutal to say that he was, and moreover, Usk was conscious -that his anger seemed to have melted away. It was impossible to -cherish it in the presence of those speaking eyes, that caressing -hand. - -“Oh, Fay, Fay!” he cried, catching her in his arms. “I knew it was all -right really. I knew you didn’t mean to be so horribly unkind.” - -“Unkind? to you? Oh, Usk!” Félicia dropped her head on his shoulder -for an instant, then raised it hastily and felt surreptitiously at her -hair. - -“Well, you were, you know. It nearly broke my heart this morning when -I saw you hadn’t told Mrs van Zyl that we were engaged.” - -“But I did tell her, Usk, only she’s real mad about it. They all beg -and entreat me not to make it public just yet on account of the claim. -Sadie is ready to swear that the Emperor won’t ever entertain it if he -thinks I’m provided for now. The only chance is to have myself appear -as a wealthy heiress entirely at my own disposal.” - -“And so you throw me over to deceive your father’s people?” - -“I don’t throw you over. I just ask you to wait and not announce our -engagement for the present. That can’t hurt you, any way.” - -“It does hurt me very much to see you encouraging King Michael.” - -“Encouraging him? because Sadie and I went for a ride on his -automobile? You get one, and we’ll come with you.” - -“It’s not that. There’s an idea that he will marry you if your claim -is substantiated.” - -“Do tell! I’m real grateful to his Majesty. Well, Usk, I’m not -responsible for any plans he and Maimie may have fixed up together, -but I haven’t ever said a single word to him about any such thing, nor -he to me.” - -“Then you are not thinking of marrying him, even if by some miracle -the Emperor should persuade your father’s people to recognise you?” - -“I’ve imagined all the time that I was thinking of marrying you. No, -Usk, I won’t make any pledges. I’m going to have you trust me.” She -laid her white arms, from which the hanging sleeves fell back, round -his neck. “If you don’t feel like it, say so, and I’ll set you free -this moment, but if you’re the right kind of a man, you’ll believe in -me.” - -“I do believe in you,” said Usk hoarsely, kissing first one wrist and -then the other; “but don’t make it harder for me than you can help, -Fay.” - -“I’ll make it just as hard as I can,” laughed Félicia, stepping back, -“to punish you for doubting me at all. I shall fairly admire to test -your faith and see what it’s worth, so just remember that when you -find things in a snarl. You do trust me?” - -“I do, absolutely.” - -“Good boy! And you’ll defend me against the nasty suspicious things -your uncle says? It’s real kind of him to be so anxious to secure me -in the family, but I don’t feel like gratifying him just yet.” - -“But you won’t encourage the King? It’s that which makes him----” - -“I won’t promise not to go riding with him, if that’s what you mean. -Sadie will go around with me everywhere, you needn’t be afraid. She -knows what it is to be a chaperon in Europe, and she’ll do her duty to -the death. And now I guess we’ve had just about enough high-falutin’. -But before we go in the _salon_, just look at these patterns for our -dominos for the _corso_ Tuesday. Don’t you think this shade of -heliotrope is quite too sweet for anything?” She held it up to her -face. - -“It’s a pretty colour,” said Usk hesitatingly. “But, Fay----” - -“And we’re going to fix up the carriage with those light-purple -anemones--just a mass of them. I wanted hepaticas--you can get real -nice shades in them, a much pinker purple, you know--but every one -says they wouldn’t last above an hour. Don’t you think it’ll be -awfully elegant?” - -“But surely you aren’t going? Your mourning----” - -“Silly boy! don’t you call this mourning?” She flourished the -heliotrope silk before his eyes. “But maybe, if you are very good and -unexacting beforehand, I won’t go. I’d just as lief see it from a -window. Now mind, I won’t have you trail me around everywhere. You’ll -get your turn with the rest, but it don’t do to be covetous.” - -It was with some misgivings that Usk followed her to the _salon_, -which was full of people, of a type with which he had not hitherto had -much acquaintance. The ladies were mostly Americans, either sojourning -in Europe without their husbands, like Mrs van Zyl, or married to -Continental noblemen of various nationalities. There was a sprinkling -of these gentlemen present, but most of the men were unencumbered by -domestic ties, and purely cosmopolitan, the product of the modern -health resort. Originally French, Brazilian, or Hungarian by race, -they had travelled so much in search of sport or distraction that the -whole civilised world was equally dull to them, and the only place -which was still able to kindle a spark of excitement in their breasts -was Monte Carlo. With them the talk was of the tables or of -pigeon-shooting, while the ladies preferred generally to discuss -flowers and fancy dresses. Lent fell late this year, so that although -it was the middle of March, the last days of the Carnival were still -to come, and every one was on the alert to discover what her neighbour -was going to wear. - -Usk left the villa before any of the other guests, meeting King -Michael on the threshold as he did so. The two young men eyed one -another with unfriendly glances. Each resented the other’s presence, -without having the right to object to it; but Usk noticed uneasily -that the King walked straight into the hall, and that Maimie, looking -more eager and anxious than ever, in a sprightly black-and-white gown, -fluttered out to meet him, and took him into the little boudoir -whither he himself had been conducted only an hour before. His uncle’s -words recurred to him, but he set his teeth. “She has asked me to -trust her, and I will--I do,” he repeated. - -It was natural, perhaps, that Cyril should not be so ready to accept -this view of the case. When Usk entered the _appartement_ at the -Hôtel des Rois, which had been taken in the names of Lord and Lady -Cyril Mortimer, he was met by the secretary Paschics, who said that -his uncle wished to see him as soon as he came in. Usk was not at all -anxious to see his uncle, and his misgivings returned sharply upon him -as he sought him on the balcony of their sitting-room. - -“Well, have you had any talk with Félicia?” asked Cyril. - -“Just a little. I only had her to myself for a minute or two.” - -“And is she willing to have the engagement announced?” - -“Well, no; not just yet. She has got some idea that it would prejudice -her claim if it was known.” - -“Then you have broken it off?” - -“Rather not. I have agreed to keep it private a little longer.” - -“In fact,” said Cyril, with slow scorn, “you set out to end an -anomalous state of things, and then agree to perpetuate it. You bind -yourself and leave her free, though it’s perfectly clear that she is -merely keeping you on as a last resource in case she loses Michael.” - -“It’s nothing of the kind,” said Usk. “She has no thought of -Michael--she told me so herself.” - -“You are in love with love,” said Cyril bitterly, “and honour, and -self-sacrifice, and all the other things of which Miss Steinherz knows -no more than she does of good taste. Don’t you see the girl’s fooling -you?” - -“It may look like that to you, but you don’t know her as I do. She’s -playing for a great stake, and she shall have her chance. I won’t let -her be able to say that she would have won if I had not baulked her. -She won’t win, of course, but at least it won’t be my fault, and she -will leave off thinking about it, and we shall be all right.” - -“She is nothing but an adventuress who can’t make up her mind to burn -her boats.” - -Usk turned very white. “You have no right to say that of the lady who -has promised to marry me,” he said. - -“I beg your pardon; I ought not to have thought aloud. It is a bad -habit that has grown on me of late. My dear Usk, if she had promised -to marry you I should see daylight. As it is, she may have promised -and she may not. Can you assert a promise if the lady sees fit to deny -it?” - -“She won’t deny it. And, anyhow, it’s a thing that only affects me. I -am satisfied to wait until she chooses to announce our engagement, and -I don’t see what any one else has to do with it.” - -“In other words, I am to mind my own business. But, unfortunately, -this is my business, though I assure you no one can regret it more -than I do. I have just heard that the Grand-Duke and Duchess of -Schwarzwald-Molzau are on their way here. He is Michael’s uncle, and -it is quite natural that he should be frightened by the reports about -the Grand-Duchess Sonya, and come to find out the truth for himself, -but I haven’t a doubt that he is also commissioned to inquire into -Félicia’s affair on behalf of the Emperor of Pannonia, his -brother-in-law. They have come to the conclusion that her claim is a -serious one, and he is to see if she is presentable, and whether she -can be bought off. Now, suppose Michael takes it into his head to say -that he will marry Sonya Eugenovna unless he is allowed to marry -Félicia, what am I to do? No one would expect me to help him to cut -out one of my own family, but I am not allowed to say she is engaged -to you. I tell you frankly I should very much prefer to eliminate you -from the matter, for you and she are not in the least suited to one -another; but it seems that you object to that. It’s what I should like -best of all to see Félicia engaged to Michael, and her fortune made -useful in re-establishing Thracian credit, and yet I must invent -obstacles to prevent it. Of course the usual convenient fiction of the -overmastering avarice and ambition of the Mortimer family will come to -the front, and I shall be accused of plotting to engineer Félicia -into a marriage with you for the sake of her money, and putting her up -to this preposterous claim of hers in order to strengthen my position -by an alliance with royalty. Pleasant, very!” - -“I’m awfully sorry, but you can hardly expect me----” - -“To renounce your _fiancée_ in order to spare my battered reputation -a few more knocks? I quite see that. Oh, don’t think I blame you. Here -am I groping helplessly to try and find the thread of affairs which I -could once have worked out in my sleep, and losing my temper with you -over it. It’s that which drives me wild.” - -He rose hastily, and left the balcony by the farther window, and Usk, -feeling perplexed and somewhat guilty, returned into the sitting-room, -where Queen Ernestine was writing at the table. - -“Don’t trouble your uncle more than you can help, Usk,” she said, -looking up. “He is very much worried just now.” - -“It’s not my fault----” began Usk indignantly. Then he stopped, and -fidgeted awkwardly with the inkstand. “I don’t want to bother you, or -to do anything rude,” he broke out; “but if you could say a word or -two to the King! Of course it’s only natural he should admire her, and -that she should be pleased, but--well, you see how it is. I don’t -think I’m jealous generally, but it really is rather rough on a man. -And it’s just the uncertainty that’s weighing on Uncle Cyril, too. -Don’t you think--is there any reason why the King shouldn’t marry this -Scythian Princess?” - -The Queen looked almost terrified. “You don’t understand,” she said. -“It is not that we could have any objection to Sonya herself; it is -simply that the marriage is being pressed on by my cousin, the -Princess of Dardania, for her own purposes. She has hated your uncle -for many years, and she hates me because I am his wife. It was her -influence which banished your uncle from Thracia, and led to the -present troubles. To see Michael delivered over to her again---- No, I -must fight to the end against that.” - -“I’m sorry,” said Usk. “I only thought--well, if he was married to -some one else, you see, there would be no excuse for these women to -persuade Félicia that he was after her. That’s what it is, you know. -It’s not her fault, it’s theirs. They get round her and make her think -that he really means something, and she doesn’t know----” - -“That he is only amusing himself?” supplied the Queen, as he paused. -“Oh, Usk, I see your trouble, and I will do anything I can to help -you. I fear it might not be much use to speak to Michael, but if we -could only see him happily married! There is just a chance that he -might take to the Schwarzwald-Molzaus’ youngest daughter, who is -coming here with them. But she is a mere child, only confirmed last -year, and I could not wish them to marry unless they loved one -another. I am afraid I have been indiscreet in speaking of it, but it -would smooth your path, wouldn’t it? Indeed I will help you if I can.” - -She held out her hand mechanically, and Usk kissed it, in the way he -had learned from his uncle. The Queen laughed. - -“I ought to play my part better by this time, at any rate in my own -family, ought I not?” she said. “Are you going to see that poor Mr -Nicholson, Usk? If there is anything he would like, flowers or fruit, -or books, you will tell me, won’t you? It seems sad to be so ill away -from home, and all alone.” - -Nicholson was a college friend of Usk’s, who was now at Nice as a -hopeless invalid. Usk had not cared for him particularly at Cambridge, -but had been startled and touched to meet him in the hall that -morning, and learn that he was alone save for a servant. Nicholson -himself protested that the Riviera had done him no end of good, and -that he was going to join in the Carnival gaieties on Shrove Tuesday, -but his appearance made the words seem a bitter mockery. - -“Thanks awfully,” said Usk. “I was just going to sit with him a bit, -and I’m sure he’ll think it tremendously kind of you. I was wondering -whether I might ask him in to tea one afternoon? I thought he would -like to talk to you a little. He doesn’t know in the least who you -are, of course, but his people don’t seem to realise how ill he is, -any more than he does himself, and there seems to be no one----” - -“I understand. Yes, of course, ask him to come in to-morrow if he -feels well enough, and we will take care not to invite any one else.” - -Usk took his departure, and spent an hour with his sick friend, whose -society was harrowing enough, owing to the ghastly contrast between -his plans and ambitions and his state of health. But there was a -reward for Usk when he returned to his own room, for a tiny note was -awaiting him from Félicia. It was written with purple ink upon paper -of a lighter shade, and perfumed with heliotrope--all the very latest -Parisian fancy of the moment--but Usk tore it open without a glance at -anything but the direction. - - - “Dear Boy,” it ran, “Did you think me awfully mean this afternoon? - This is to make up. I have told Sadie that I am just not going to the - _fêtes_ Tuesday, but I haven’t told her that I am coming riding with - you instead. I am, if you ask me nicely.--Yours, - - Félicia.” - - -Naturally, the only thing to do on receiving such a letter was to -hasten to secure the smartest possible vehicle for a long country -drive. But Usk found to his dismay that not a single proprietor would -let out a carriage of any description on the day mentioned save for -use at the Carnival, and he was obliged to invite himself to tea at -the villa instead. Félicia pouted when he told her of the change, and -kept him for some time in anxiety as to whether she would allow him to -come or not, averring that the ideal lover would have purchased a -complete turn-out rather than disappoint his mistress of the drive on -which she had set her heart. Usk pleaded that he had not the money, -whereupon she retorted that an American would have made the purchase -on credit, and resold the cart and horse at a profit immediately -afterwards, thus combining business with pleasure. However, she was at -last induced to promise to be at home, and Usk felt his self-respect -restored. He would have Félicia to himself, without the intervention -of Maimie, or Mrs van Zyl, or the King, and his uncle would be forced -to see that his suspicions were unfounded. - -But when the Tuesday afternoon arrived, a note was brought to Usk as -he sat in Nicholson’s room reading to the invalid, who had got as far -as the Jardin Publique in the morning, and there discovered that his -strength was at an end. This note was written with crimson ink upon -rose-scented pink paper, and Usk found that it came from Mrs van Zyl. -It was very short. - - - “Dear Lord Usk,--Félicia is real sorry to disappoint you, but she - thinks it her duty not to miss such an excellent opportunity of seeing - the Carnival. I wish we could have you come with us, but our carriage - is full.--Yours truly, - - Sadie van Zyl.” - - -Usk crushed the note angrily in his hand when he had glanced at it. Of -course it might mean no more than that Félicia was to view the -Carnival procession from a window, but he felt almost certain that she -would don fancy dress and join in all the gaiety that offered itself. -And who was to occupy the fourth seat in the carriage? Only one answer -suggested itself--King Michael. Usk fought against the conviction in -vain. At last he stood up, and spoke hurriedly to Nicholson, who had -been watching him curiously. - -“I’m off. I shall go and see what all the foolery is like, anyhow.” - -“Disappointed of your tea-party?” laughed the invalid, his worn face -elfish, almost malicious. “But you can’t go down into the thick of the -fun in those things. You’ll be mobbed. Look here, you wear the togs I -ordered for myself--we’re about the same height. Ring for Jenkins, and -he’ll bring them. I was going as the typical Englishman of French -caricature. Now then, there you are. Don’t forget the whiskers, mind.” - -“They aren’t the right colour for me,” said Usk, tossing down the long -Dundreary whiskers which had been selected to match Nicholson’s sandy -hair. “I’m sure I shall look enough of an ass without them. Where in -the world did you get such checks?” - -“Horse-blanket,” responded Nicholson, breathlessly but proudly. -“Tasty, isn’t it? I thought when I chose it I should make a sensation, -but now I know what the French believe about us, I’m certain it will -fall flat. People will only say, ‘That English fellow has no business -to come in his ordinary clothes.’” - -“Ordinary!” gasped Usk, from the adjoining room, where he was arraying -himself rapidly in the scarlet and yellow checked knickerbockers, the -orange tawny Norfolk jacket, the golf-stockings combining all the -colours of the rainbow, and the aggressive sun-helmet, surrounded by a -white puggaree striped with red and blue, which Nicholson considered -would enable the French populace to identify the typical Englishman so -dear to their hearts. Football boots and an alpenstock completed the -costume, and when Usk had donned the orthodox velvet mask, Nicholson -lay back upon his pillows, and laughed and coughed until the tears ran -down his cheeks. - -“I wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” he gasped. “I shouldn’t have -realised the effect half as well on myself. You might have stepped out -of ‘Le Rire,’ except for your modest air of uneasiness. Swagger a bit, -and grind your teeth. Walk as if the whole earth belonged to you. And -do put on the whiskers. They’ll look all the funnier with your dark -moustache.” - -But this last sacrifice to appearances Usk declined to make, and after -Nicholson had reminded him to provide himself with a good bag of -confetti and a tin scoop, he crept downstairs, hoping fervently not to -meet any one he knew, and went out by the side door of the hotel, -whence he found his way easily to the Old Town and into the main -stream of gaiety. His sole idea had been to look for Félicia, to -convince himself that she had deliberately broken her promise to him, -or perhaps to have the delight of finding that Mrs van Zyl and Maimie -were joining in the fun without her. But once in the whirling, -ever-changing throng, he soon recognised that there was little hope of -finding any one. Strangers accosted him, rallied him on his -loneliness, invited him to join them. Confetti flew about in showers, -small hard bouquets hurtled through the air from the decorated -carriages as they passed, and the phantasmagoria of sound and colour -fleeted and shifted every moment. Overhead, against the glowing blue -of the sky, were strings of fluttering flags and wreaths of evergreen; -a little lower, windows and shop-fronts were garlanded and decked with -bright-hued stuffs; the lofty cars which lurched past vied with one -another in the richness of their colour-schemes and the _bizarrerie_ -of their mechanical devices; small foot-soldiers and dragoons on -prancing steeds were pressed hither and thither in valiant attempts to -keep a line. There were people in the road, people on the pavement, -people in every door and window, people on the roofs. Bands blared, -maskers hissed, cackled, hooted, neighed, yelled; imperious policemen -forced their way along with the word “_circulez_” on their lips, -although to obey was obviously impossible. People entangled each other -in long paper streamers, banged each other with bladders, knocked off -each other’s headgear, poked confetti down each other’s collars, all -in high good-humour, and amid shrieks of laughter. Dominos of every -possible colour and shade of colour, Pierrots and Pierrettes of every -degree of inanity, debased national and historical costumes of every -country and every era, eddied round Usk, but he tried in vain to -distinguish any figure that he knew. Anxious and troubled as he was, -he had soon had enough of the scene, but he kept his temper, and flung -his confetti with the best, until they were exhausted. By this time he -had managed to traverse almost the entire route of the procession, and -he turned to retrace his steps. As he did so, he noticed a band of men -with false noses, who seemed to be chaffing some one in their midst. -As Usk was carried close to them by the crowd, he saw that the centre -of attraction was a girl in German peasant costume. Her hair hung in -two thick plaits below her waist, and in her short skirts she looked -little more than a child. Her stiff little round cap had been tweaked -off by one of the group surrounding her, two more had possessed -themselves of the ribbons from her hair, and were announcing that they -would wear them next their hearts for ever after, and another had -pulled the knitting from her apron-pocket and was drawing out the -pins. The girl herself was clinging with both hands to her mask, in -evident though unnecessary terror that it would be the next thing torn -from her, and gazing round like a hunted hare for a way of escape. -With an inarticulate exclamation, Usk pushed his way into the circle. -Whoever the girl might be, her terror and distress were obvious, and -he could not see her tormented by this rabble. To his utter -astonishment, as soon as her eyes fell on him, she darted forward and -seized his arm. - -“Oh, you have come at last!” she cried in English. “It has seemed so -long!” - -“The fair Gretchen has found a cavalier!” laughed one of the -tormentors. - -“May they be happy!” cried another, and in the shower of confetti -which followed, Usk made his escape, the girl still clinging to his -arm. She was shaking from head to foot, and he managed to drag her -into a doorway, while he stood before her to protect her from the -crowd. Presently a small meek voice said-- - -“Please forgive me. I ought not to have pretended I knew you, but I -was so frightened.” The tears were raining down. - -“Oh, never mind,” said Usk cheerfully, wondering how this child had -been allowed out by herself. “They wouldn’t have hurt you really, you -know. Shall we wait here and watch for your people?” - -“I don’t know where they are, and papa will be so angry.” - -“Why? Did you come out without his knowing?” - -“Oh no. I was with him, and I wanted to hold his arm, and he wouldn’t -let me. He said I made him look absurd,” a sob. “But I knew we could -not keep together if I let go, and we were separated in a moment.” - -“All right. Don’t cry. I’ll take you home at once if you like. Your -father will guess you’ve gone back. Where are you staying?” - -“At the Hôtel des Rois. But please don’t allow me to trouble you.” - -“It’s no trouble at all. I’m staying there too.” - -“Oh, are you? But I didn’t see you at breakfast. It was so nice seeing -all the people, and trying to guess who they were.” - -“I am with my uncle and aunt, and they prefer to have their meals -upstairs.” - -“So do papa and mamma. How droll! But it is my birthday to-day, and -mamma allowed me to breakfast on the terrace, for a treat. You are -English, aren’t you? When those horrid men all came round me, I -thought, ‘Oh, if only I could see a German or an Englishman!’” - -“You ought to be careful,” said Usk sagely. They were walking through -a quiet street by this time, on their way back to the hotel. “There -are a good many shady characters about.” - -“Shady? I don’t know that word. But it means dark, dangerous--is it -not so? But I could see you were not like that, of course.” - -“I’m glad I was labelled English and harmless to the foreign eye,” -said Usk. “I shouldn’t have thought myself that this get-up would have -inspired confidence.” - -“What strange words you use. One judges people by their faces, not by -their get-ups--is that the word?” - -“There isn’t very much of my face visible to judge by.” - -“Ah, one can judge a good deal by the general outline,” said the girl -confidently. “Oh, is your uncle the poor sick Englishman I met in the -gardens this morning?” - -“No; that’s a friend of mine.” - -“I was so sorry for him, because I have been ill so much myself. When -I was a little girl I almost died every winter.” - -“But you look all right now.” - -“I am quite well, thank you, but mamma lived up in the mountains with -me for two whole years, that I might become strong. I was her baby, -you see.” Usk smiled involuntarily, the remark sounded so naïve. -“Franz, my next brother, was ten years old when I was born, and all -the rest are much older. I am even younger than two of my nephews, the -Princes of Schreckingen.” - -“Surely you must be the Princess of Schwarzwald-Molzau?” asked Usk -diffidently. - -“The little Princess they call me, or Princess Lenchen. At least they -used to do that, but now papa says I am always to be called the -Princess Helene. I am grown-up, you see, but I don’t feel as if I -were. When I was confirmed I thought there would surely be a -difference, that I should feel grown-up, but I don’t, and it -displeases papa. He used to laugh at the things I said, and say, ‘How -does the child get such things into her head?’ but now he is angry, -and says, ‘Will that child never grow up?’” - -She spoke so dolorously that Usk laughed. “You’ll be grown-up quite -soon enough,” he said. “I don’t know what to call you--your -Grand-Ducal Highness?” - -“I do not know yet who you are,” she replied, with a quaint little air -of dignity. - -“Probably you’ll know my uncle’s name better than mine--Count -Mortimer.” - -“Oh, then we are cousins!” she exclaimed in delight. “At least we have -the same aunt. She was married first to my uncle, you know.” - -“And now she is married to mine. Does that make her more my aunt or -yours?” - -“Ah, but she is my mother’s cousin as well.” - -“That gives you the advantage, certainly.” - -“But does it make Count Mortimer my uncle? I am so anxious to know -that, and I am afraid to ask papa. He--he doesn’t----” - -“Care for the connection? None of you do, I suppose. But I think -you’ll like it better when you know my uncle.” - -“Like it? I wish him to be my uncle!” she cried. “You do not know; but -since he came to Molzau for my sister Theudelinde’s wedding, four -years ago, and I heard all about him, I have--oh, I do not know the -English word--_geschwärmt_ for him. What is it that you do to a great -poet, or painter, or any great man?” - -“Admire him?” suggested Usk. - -“Oh no, no! You admire a horse. Have you no sisters? Did they not set -up some hero’s photograph and place flowers in front of it, and watch -for any mention of his name, and long to obtain his autograph?” - -“Now you mention it, I believe Phil--that’s my sister--did have a -severe attack of hero-worship some years ago. It was about the time -Lord Williams came home from Africa.” - -“Lord Williams? Oh, I know--Bills!” - -“And you pretend not to understand slang!” - -“I am sorry. I have heard my English cousins speak of him so much, and -they told me it was considered quite wrong in England to call him -anything else. Then what is the word?” - -“Adore, I should think. Or I know a girl, an American”--Usk’s face -clouded again as he thought of Félicia--“who would say she enthused -over him.” - -“Enthused? That is a good word. Well, then, I enthused over Count -Mortimer. I found a portrait of him in an illustrated paper--one of my -English cousins was staying with us, and her lady had brought it--and -I cut it out, and had it framed. I put it up in my room, and made a -wreath of green leaves for it on the dear Count’s birthday, and no one -was allowed to dust it but myself. Mamma laughed at me, but when the -trouble came, and your uncle left Thracia, you know, she told me I had -better take it down, lest papa should see it and be angry. So I took -it down, and laid it in a drawer, and looked at it every day; but when -the Count married Aunt Ernestine, I thought papa could not mind, and I -put it up again. But when he saw it he was--oh, I cannot tell you how -angry! and he broke the glass and tore up the portrait. But do you -know what I shall do now? I shall ask Aunt Ernestine to give me a -photograph of him and write my name on it herself. Papa couldn’t tear -that up, could he?” - -“Far be it from me to say what papa couldn’t or wouldn’t do!” returned -Usk, almost helpless with laughter, as they mounted the steps of the -Hôtel des Rois. The girl turned to look at him reproachfully, so that -Usk saw before she did an elderly gentleman, in a high state of -excitement, standing in the middle of the hall, and apparently giving -orders to the whole staff of the hotel in an imperious style, which -contrasted ludicrously with his peasant dress and the mask which was -pushed up on his forehead. - -“Communicate with the police instantly!” he was saying, with a strong -German accent. “They could do nothing, you say? But I insist upon it. -What! is my daughter to be torn from my side and kidnapped with -impunity?” - -“I am here, dear papa,” said the Princess Helene meekly. “I lost my -way, and this--this kind English gentleman brought me home.” - -Still spluttering and choking, the Grand-Duke turned round, and glared -at his daughter as if he was angry with her for being brought back. -Then he turned again to wave his hand majestically, and when the -waiters had fled, allowed his gaze to rest upon Usk, who became once -more painfully conscious of his attire. “I am obliged to you, sir,” -said the Grand-Duke coldly. - -“Papa,” whispered his daughter, anxious to improve matters, “it is -Aunt Ernestine’s nephew.” She shrank from the look she received as if -from a blow. - -“You are the nephew of Count Mortimer, sir, I understand? The Count is -a worthy man, and at one time did good service to my house. I am glad -you follow in his footsteps.” And the Grand-Duke led his daughter -away. - - - - - CHAPTER XI. - KNOWN TOO LATE. - -The Grand-Duke and Duchess of Schwarzwald-Molzau were entertaining a -strictly family party at dinner in their _appartement_ at the Hôtel -des Rois. King Michael and his mother were naturally the chief guests, -and the Queen’s presence involved Cyril’s. Usk had also the honour of -being invited, owing to the service he had rendered to the Princess -Helene, and there was a vacant place at the table, no explanation of -which was at first offered. Usk felt supremely uncomfortable, and was -very conscious of being an outsider, though reflection, or policy, or -his wife’s influence, had induced the Grand-Duke to show himself -gracious, if not cordial. Cyril’s help was desirable, even -indispensable, in solving the problems which lay before King Michael’s -relations at this moment, and there was a widespread belief that it -was not wise to show any discourtesy to “the Mortimer,” however -defenceless he might appear. Not that Cyril displayed any disposition -to insist upon his rights. With the tact which always distinguished -him, he claimed nothing that his hosts might not be willing to -concede, and in spite of his delicate position exerted such a genial -influence that before the end of the meal the Grand-Duke was -addressing him with absolute friendliness. It was Queen Ernestine who -was nervously on the look-out for slights offered to her husband, so -that throughout the evening she was clearly ready, as he told her -afterwards, to sail magnificently out of the room at a moment’s -notice, sweeping Usk and himself in her train. Her vigilance was not -without its effect upon the Grand-Duke, beside whom she sat, and as he -hoped much from her influence over the King, he took pains, in a rough -and somewhat tactless fashion, to show her that her fears were -unnecessary. - -King Michael sat next to the Grand-Duchess, a stout, -comfortable-looking lady whose sole anxiety seemed to be her husband’s -temper. When she had satisfied herself that he was desirous of -pleasing the Queen, and exhibited no active antipathy to Cyril, she -settled down to enjoy the King’s society. Usk, judging by her -occasional exclamations and generally shocked expression, thought that -he was probably entertaining her with the recital of some of the -escapades with which he daily edified the population of Nice, and that -she, regarding him as a possible son-in-law, was listening -indulgently, if with a certain amount of gratifying horror. - -Sitting solitary, since the empty place happened to be next him, Usk -had plenty of opportunity of observing his fellow-diners, and he took -a special delight in watching the pair opposite him. The Princess -Helene was looking very small and shy, and as young as ever, in her -simple white gown, with her hair coiled round and round the small -head, which seemed overweighted by the heavy plaits. She was not -pretty, thought Usk, looking at her dispassionately, she was too thin -and pale, but the over-abundant hair was of a warm brown, and the -large eyes a deep hazel. If she was with people who were kind to her, -and was not in constant fear of being snubbed or called to order, she -would be a jolly little girl. To this conclusion he was led by -observing her demeanour to Cyril, which reminded him of the way she -had talked to himself under the protection of her mask two days -before. At first she was almost too shy to speak, on finding herself -in the actual presence of her idol, but the barrier was soon removed. -There were few people that Cyril could not set at ease, and this -little romantic girl was no exception to the rule. - -“He talked to me about interesting things, as if I was quite old,” she -said to Usk in the drawing-room afterwards; and when Usk hinted that -this would not generally be considered a compliment, she was almost -angry. “People always will think that girls want compliments, and -simply to talk about balls and stupid things of that kind,” she cried, -“instead of books, and politics, and _life_; but the dear Count is not -like that. I have often thought that some day I might see him and -listen to him, but I never, never dreamed that he would talk to me, -and let me talk to him. And I should have lost it all if _he_ had not -been so rude and come in too late for dinner.” - -She was sitting at the piano, which was isolated from the rest of the -room in a recess, and Usk was standing beside her to turn over the -pages of her music. As she spoke she threw a little scornful glance in -the direction of the defaulting guest, who had made his appearance, -with profuse apologies, when the meal was just over. A man of -uncertain age, looking young in a dim light, but considerably older -when the glare of the electric lamps fell upon him, he was presented -to the Queen as the Grand-Duke Ivan Petrovitch of Scythia. At first he -had appeared to think it his duty to hover round Helene with talk of -the very kind she despised, but when the four elders of the party drew -together for conversation, he seemed to find a more congenial -companion in King Michael, who had taken no notice of his little -cousin save to tease her with reminiscences of their childhood which -made her blush painfully. Usk, whose Welsh blood had boiled under the -calmly inquiring glance turned upon him by the new-comer, was glad -enough to follow Helene to the piano, where she tried over the -accompaniments of various songs, and played now and then a few bars of -one musical composition or another, “just to encourage conversation,” -as she put it. - -“Don’t you hate him?” she inquired presently, under cover of the -music, with a turn of her head in the direction of the visitor. - -“I don’t much like his looks,” Usk agreed. - -“He may say that he lost his train from Monte Carlo, but I am quite -certain that he stayed at the tables too long on purpose.” - -“But that seems rather aimless, doesn’t it?” - -“Oh, he wished to be rude. I don’t know why, but I am certain it was -that. He makes me--I forget the word--quake? quiver?--all over when he -comes near.” - -“He grues you, does he? So he does me.” - -“I am so glad, because it shows it is not a fancy of mine. Do you know -what I think it is? Look at him through the leaves of that palm; see -how smooth he is, how well-brushed--is not that the phrase? Then think -of him as he would look without his beard. I have seen a picture of -him when he was much younger in his cousin Sonya’s album, and oh! it -was such a cruel face. I call him the Tartar--you know the saying, -_Grattez le Scythe, et vous trouverez_----? It amuses mamma very much, -but she told me not to tell papa. He would be displeased.” - -“I don’t think I would tell the Grand-Duke either,” suggested Usk, -half-pityingly. Could the child be so blind as not to see what the -presence of the Scythian Prince at this family gathering portended? - -“Oh no, I should not think of it. And besides, when he comes near me, -I can never talk at all. I feel like a mouse in a trap, and I can only -say yes and no. You know that he married one of my cousins? She died -before they had been married a year, and I believe”--her voice -dropped, and her eyes sought Usk’s with a haunting horror in -them--“that he killed her.” - -“Oh no!” Usk felt compelled to say. “Why should he?” - -“I don’t mean that he murdered her with a dagger or with poison. I -should think it would be enough to kill any one to see that face and -that sneer always opposite them. And they wanted her to enter the -Orthodox Church, and she refused; and I don’t think he would be very -kind if his wishes were opposed, would he? Oh, it was brave of her, -poor Leopoldine! I should have surrendered, I know. I should be too -frightened to hold out.” - -“I say, you know,” said Usk awkwardly, “perhaps you’re misjudging him. -He mayn’t be as bad as he looks.” - -Helene shook her head. “It is the feeling his presence gives me,” she -said. “Now, there is Michael. I dislike him, but I am not afraid of -him. He is like a big boy who tortures flies for sport, not thinking. -The Grand-Duke Ivan would do it for the sake of cruelty. And there is -the Emperor Sigismund. Every one says how hard he is, but he is not -cruel. He is always kind to me. He used to call me his little kitten, -and I could always persuade him to do what I wanted. That was when I -was a little girl, of course.” - -Usk was silent, lost in amazement at this new light upon the character -of the Hercynian ruler. Helene was looking through a pile of music. - -“Ah!” she said. “This is what you in England call the Wedding March; -is it not so? Shall I startle them all by playing it in Michael’s -honour? It seems quite certain that he is to marry Sonya Eugenova. -Cousin Ottilie was calling on mamma to-day, and told us so much about -them both.” - -“No doubt the Princess of Dardania would know more about it than any -one else,” said Usk drily, “but,” he added, unhappy recollections of -his own coming to the surface again, “it would be a pity to -congratulate the King too soon.” - -“Then shall I play it for you?” she asked suddenly. “Cousin Ottilie -told us you were betrothed to a beautiful American girl. I hope I -shall see her. Michael knows her family, does he not? Mamma said he -was a good deal at their villa.” - -“No, please don’t,” said Usk hurriedly, laying his hand upon hers as -she was about to begin. “As you have heard so much, I can explain -things to you which I couldn’t to any one else. We are not exactly -engaged--at least, you know, I would give anything to be, but she -won’t have it. It’s--it’s just that she doesn’t like to be bound, you -know. Of course she thinks I should try to monopolise her, and she -would find it awfully dull.” - -Helene’s face, as she sat at the piano, wore an expression of -disapproval. “I don’t understand,” she said. “She has not refused -you--no? And yet she will not bind herself? But this is not treating -you honourably.” - -“Oh, I don’t mind,” Usk assured her, with involuntary mendacity. -“She’s--she’s an American, you know, and American girls like to be -free above all things. I don’t want her to refuse me at all. I’m quite -content to wait until she is willing----” - -“To be betrothed? But why should she prefer freedom to becoming your -bride?” Usk felt some astonishment, until he remembered that she was -using the word in the German sense. “Surely she would receive far -greater consideration, besides having the right to your escort -everywhere, and all the respect you would naturally show her?” - -“Oh, it’s not that.” Usk felt helpless to explain the points involved. -“An American girl gets all the consideration she wants anyhow, and -that’s all there is going, or she’ll know the reason why. And you see -she would much rather have different men to take her about than me -always.” - -“I do not understand,” said Helene coldly, rising as she spoke. “It -seems to me that you ought not to allow her to treat you with such -insult. She cannot be a high-minded girl.” - -“What next?” thought Usk in amazement, as he put out the piano-lights -before following her. The party was breaking up by this time, and -Helene bade him good-night with freezing coldness. He was at a loss to -know how he had offended her, especially when he noticed that in -saying farewell to his uncle she handed him, with a deep blush and a -look of entreaty, a morocco-bound book. The Grand-Duchess laughed -pleasantly. - -“What, Lenchen, that absurd album of yours again?” she said. “Don’t -give yourself any trouble about it, Count, I beg of you. Every one -spoils this child by being too kind to her.” - -“What is it, Cyril?” asked the Queen curiously, when they had reached -their own _appartement_. Cyril flung the book on the table with a -groan, and his wife and Usk laughed when they saw that it was lettered -“Confession Album.” - -“What is there about me that impels romantic little girls to let me in -for things of this sort?” he demanded. “I thought Philippa said that -these wretched books had gone out years ago, but it seems some -malignant cousin brought your niece this one from England, and my -feelings are to be butchered to make a holiday for her.” - -“Poor little Lenchen!” sighed the Queen. “I am glad you were kind to -her, Cyril.” - -“Ah, poor little girl! If Michael was her last chance of escape from -Ivan Petrovitch, I’m afraid it’s a bad look-out.” - -“He took pains to show that he was not at all attracted to her,” said -the Queen, in a low voice. “I suppose it was as well to make it plain, -but----” - -“The unfortunate parents were doubly snubbed,” said Cyril. “It was -quite clear that Ivan Petrovitch saw he would only be welcomed as a -son-in-law if Michael disappointed them, and he showed his resentment -by arriving late. I don’t envy his future relations-in-law, I must -say.” - -“The poor little girl herself hates him,” said Usk. - -Cyril looked up quickly. “Did she confide that to you? Confidences of -that sort are dangerous. It is discreet to forget them at once.” - -“I’m not likely to hand it on to the Grand-Duke Ivan, at any rate. And -talking of confidences, the Princess of Dardania seems to have been -indulging in a good many this afternoon.” - -“On matrimonial matters? So we heard. Perhaps you don’t know that she -was asked to join the family dinner-party, and refused on account of -the company she would meet--otherwise you and me?” - -“No,” said the Queen calmly; “she could not bring herself to meet me.” - -“My dear Ernestine--your own cousin! Ah, I see. Because you had -degraded yourself by stooping to me--was that it?” - -The Queen looked at him searchingly. “Raised myself, rather,” she -said. “Yes, that is no doubt the reason, Cyril.” - -“I see the book Nicholson wanted has come. I think I’ll take it in to -him and see how he is,” said Usk, who felt himself slightly _de trop_. -From his brother-in-law Mansfield he had gathered the idea that the -Princess Dowager of Dardania would at one time not have scorned to -marry Cyril herself, but he knew his uncle well enough to be certain -that no word would ever pass his lips on the subject. - -“Ottilie is determined that Michael shall marry Sonya,” said the -Queen, when he had gone out. - -“Yes; it was considerate of her to call and quench any hopes that the -poor Schwarzwald-Molzaus might be cherishing. I shall be curious to -see if she tries anything of the kind upon Félicia.” - -“I don’t think she would regard her as a serious rival to Sonya.” - -“Then she would be very much mistaken. The Grand-Duke took the hint I -managed to give him far better than I expected. If his own daughter -had married Michael, it would not have solved our difficulties at all, -for there would still be the money to be found. Little Helene won’t -have more than a few thousands, at the outside, and her father sees -the difficulty. He will make Michael introduce him to Félicia, and -will watch her for a day or two before he takes any decided step. And -Félicia is the kind of girl who will appeal to him by her very -audacity. She will surprise and amuse him, and calmly ignore his -prejudices when that unfortunate little Helene would be cowering in -terror.” - -“Cyril, did it strike you? If we could get rid of Ivan Petrovitch, -there is Usk. Of course, I mean if Michael insists on marrying -Félicia.” - -“Usk marry Helene? My dear Ernestine, may I ask you to keep that idea -to yourself? If it came to pass, I should never leave Europe alive.” - -“Cyril, what do you mean? What difference could it make?” - -“Simply that I should have become too powerful. You know me as I -really am, dearest, a broken-down cobbler, patching things clumsily -together. But to Scythia, which means Soudaroff, I am a plotter of the -most dangerous type, at the head of a widespread conspiracy for -establishing myself as ruler of Palestine, and bent on strengthening -my position by royal alliances. You know, and I know, that when we -quit Europe it will be to return to Sitt Zeynab and not leave it -again, but end our days there in peace, away from the politics which -nowadays I can’t touch without spoiling. But Soudaroff thinks, and -very naturally too, after all the pains that have been taken to -impress it upon him, that my leaving will be the sign for a desperate -attempt--which he, knowing me as I was, believes will be -successful--to oust the Scythian garrison from Jerusalem. If I have -the additional support of the Schwarzwald-Molzau influence behind me, -as he would infer if Usk was allowed to marry Helene, surely it is -clear that his only chance is to put me out of the way?” - -“Cyril, you terrify me. Let us leave things to settle themselves, and -go back to the desert at once.” - -“No, no; we’ll see the young folks out of the wood if we can. Though -how we are to get things settled if Usk refuses to bring Félicia to -book, I don’t know.” - -Usk, in the meantime, had gone to Nicholson’s rooms, and found the -invalid sitting up in bed, his bright eyes looking ghastly by contrast -with his hollow cheeks. - -“Thought you’d be coming in,” he said, “and I wouldn’t lie down, for -fear I should go to sleep, though Jenkins has been at me incessantly. -Look here; I wanted to show you this.” - -He held out the page of a newspaper, which had the unfamiliar look -peculiar to English printed with French type. It was one of the -ephemeral society sheets which spring up once or twice a season in the -larger health resorts, and after enjoying a brief _succès de -scandale_, suddenly sink out of existence. Usk looked at the passage -to which he pointed:-- - -“Tuesday’s Carnival procession was quite the best and most fashionably -attended of late years, and bearers of nearly every well-known name in -Europe took part in it or were among the spectators. Observed of all -observers were the ‘Famille Pierrot en deuil,’ comprising two ladies -and two gentlemen attired in Pierrot costumes with deep black borders. -The idea was most cleverly carried out, down to the black pompons -which adorned the white sugar-loaf hats of the two Pierrettes; and -universal admiration was attracted by the _abandon_ with which the -wearers threw themselves into all the fun of the occasion. It is -whispered that one of the Pierrots was the youthful monarch of a -Balkan State, whose whole-hearted gaiety has given great delight to -Nice this season; and that the ladies were the fascinating American -tenants of one of the florally-named villas in the Croix de Marbre, -whom he honours with a good deal of his society.” - -“Rather suggestive of your friends of the Villa Bougainvillea,” -chuckled Nicholson, coughing as he spoke. - -“This thing ought to be prosecuted,” said Usk wrathfully. “Or who -edits it, do you know?” - -“How can I tell? But you can’t horsewhip a man for telling the truth.” - -“It’s not true! Why----” Usk was happy again--“if they went, they were -to go in mauve dominos. She--one of them--showed me the stuff.” - -“Of course she did! And what was to be under the dominos? They were -only for driving. It was when your friends left their carriage that -they would come out as full-blown Pierrettes.” - -“It’s not true,” repeated Usk, doggedly but hopelessly. “There’s the -book you wanted. Good-night.” - -Once more his mind was made up to force an explanation with Félicia. -He had not been near the Villa Bougainvillea since receiving Mrs van -Zyl’s note on the day of the Carnival, for he had determined that -Félicia owed him an apology, and that he would not move without it. -Now, however, he felt he could rest no longer under this uncertainty. -If Félicia had the smallest regard for him or his wishes, she would -not have taken part in the Carnival at all; and if she had no regard -for him, what prospect was there of their living happily together? It -was with these thoughts in his mind that he made his way to the villa -the next morning, as early as he thought Félicia would be likely to -be up. To his astonishment he was ushered into the _salon_, where Mrs -van Zyl greeted him with a severe expression of countenance. - -“I don’t know whether Félicia will receive you,” she said coldly, -when he had explained that he came to see Miss Steinherz, “but I will -send and ask her, any way.” - -An awkward pause ensued, during which Usk endeavoured vainly to make -conversation, wondering the while what was the reason for this -treatment, and Mrs van Zyl eyed him as if he had been a convicted -criminal. Presently, however, she was summoned to the door, and a -whispered colloquy followed, which appeared to have a satisfactory -result, for she went out, and Félicia entered the room. She seemed -the embodiment of injured rectitude as she halted opposite Usk, and -looked him over sternly. - -“I guess you’re come to apologise,” she said at last. - -“Nothing of the sort. I want an apology from you,” broke out Usk. - -“Do tell! You’re the person to ask for apologies, aren’t you?” - -“Exactly, and I mean to have one.” - -“Am I to apologise because you broke your appointment, and haven’t -been around for two whole days?” - -“Considering that you broke the appointment through Mrs van Zyl, and -went to the Carnival, which you had promised you wouldn’t do, I -scarcely thought you would care to see me.” - -“And if I told you that Sadie wrote you just to test you, and that I -was waiting for you here all of Tuesday afternoon, what then?” - -“I should ask who the two American ladies were from this house who -were at the Carnival with King Michael.” - -“I guess Sadie and Maimie are just as good Americans as I am,” said -Félicia languidly. “Well!” she cried, with sudden fire, “if I told -you all that what would you do?” - -“I should accept your word, of course.” - -“Oh, how kind! how condescending! Well, then, I just won’t tell you -anything of the sort. You won’t have any word to accept, do you see? -and you can just do as you like.” - -“Félicia, you are not treating me fairly!” cried Usk, torn asunder -with doubts. “Tell me you were not at the Carnival, and I will make -any apology you please. You had no right to test me as you say, for I -think I have passed the stage for that sort of thing, but if it was a -test, I failed; I acknowledge that.” - -“This is a test, too,” said Félicia calmly. “You promised to trust -me, and I mean to see what your trust is worth. I have suggested an -explanation, and if you don’t choose to accept it, you can just go.” - -“Only tell me that you were not at the Carnival.” - -“I won’t say a word. And you make out to love me!” - -“And I do. If I leave off loving you, it will be because you have -killed my love with your own hands. You know I love you, Fay. Could I -bear the way you treat me if I didn’t? Am I to stand all the tests and -you none? Give me just that one assurance, and you won’t repent it. I -shall be bowed down with shame.” - -“I don’t see but I’d better ring for Jacques to show you out,” -remarked Félicia conversationally, moving towards the bell. - -“You don’t care for me! You can’t care for me!” cried Usk. - -Félicia turned towards him again. “Solemnly, Usk, if I care for any -one, I care for you, but I won’t be treated that way. I must be -trusted all in all, or not at all. If you can do it, say so, and -stay.” - -Her hand was on the bell-rope. Her beautiful eyes looked sadly, -entreatingly at him. There were tears ready to fall. - -“I can! I do!” he cried. “Oh, Fay, you are cruel to me!” - -“Cruel only to be kind,” said Mrs van Zyl, entering the room just as -Usk’s arms were round Félicia. “I guess you’re in again, Fay? You’ll -stay lunch, Lord Usk? We receive this afternoon.” - -The last piece of information was not particularly delightful to Usk, -but he stayed, and was rewarded for abandoning his private judgment by -many tender looks and caressing words from Félicia. A certain amount -of triumph over Maimie was visible in her glance, and Usk guessed -miserably that Maimie had prophesied he would not allow himself to be -cajoled. Even now he felt horribly conscious that he did not believe -in Félicia’s explanation. He had yielded because at the moment the -fear of losing her seemed intolerable, but his submission degraded him -in his own eyes. All Félicia’s endeavours to hide his chain with -flowers were useless; she did not love him, and he did not trust her. - -Matters were no better when Mrs van Zyl’s guests arrived, and he had -no longer to keep up the dreary pretence which Félicia insisted on -treating as solid reality. He did his duty in helping to hand round -tea and cake, finding seats for elderly ladies, and making up sets for -croquet, but the company was not to his taste, although it was evident -that Félicia found it very much to hers. Once more he noticed the -change in her. At Llandiarmid she had been merely the shadow of her -real self, perversely critical or genuinely languid, but now she had -recovered the health and good spirits which had been so noticeable -before her father’s death. The well preserved, tightly buttoned, -barons and counts who owed allegiance to the other American women -present crowded round her, and competed for her smiles with rival -sallies of wit, and the weary cosmopolitans forgot to talk of such an -one’s score and some one else’s bad luck. She held her court among -them, listening to their deftly turned compliments with an -indifference which was almost contemptuous, until the splendid eyes -would all at once be lifted lazily, and a comment be -uttered--sometimes only a single word--which set all her hearers -laughing. She could hold her own with ease even when her indifference -piqued them all to unite against her. Still reclining with half-veiled -eyes in her hammock, she would annihilate half her assailants at once -with a single sally, and then dispose of the rest by a few crisp -sentences in succession. It was perfect, Usk saw. No wonder these -fellows were attracted and amused, and yet--and yet--what was to be -the outcome of it all? Was it possible for Félicia--even if she ever -intended to marry him--to be happy as his wife? Morbidly awake now to -her methods and aims, he found no pleasure in the fact that King -Michael had not put in an appearance all day, but rather a reason for -her restoration of himself to favour. In spite of his protestations to -his uncle, he was occupying now the most degraded of all positions, -that of a stalking-horse employed to pique the other man into renewing -his attentions. - - - - - CHAPTER XII. - MURDERED FAITH. - -“We really ought to buy something at the refreshment-stall,” said -the Grand-Duchess; “but what is one to do with cakes in a hotel?” - -“We might have tea here instead,” said Queen Ernestine. “Usk, perhaps -you can find us a table in a quiet corner?” - -A bazaar was being held on behalf of some object connected with the -English church, and the Queen, escorted by Usk, had met the -Grand-Duchess of Schwarzwald-Molzau and her daughter making the round -of the stalls. One of the lady members of the committee, who was -hovering at the Queen’s heels with the view of directing her attention -to the most desirable, and expensive, articles on each stall, heard -the remark about tea, and appeared suddenly in front of the party, her -whole aspect eloquent of a desire to be addressed. - -“Perhaps you can help us, Miss Waverley?” said the Queen, with a -smile. “We should like to find a table a little more private than this -one.” - -“I can show you the very place, Ma’am,” replied Miss Waverley -breathlessly. “There is a little nook here where your Majesty can see -all that goes on without being seen, if your--if the gentleman will -just help me to move this table.” - -“Which of us is anxious to see all that is to be seen?” asked the -Queen, as Miss Waverley hurried away to order the tea. “I think it -must be you, Helene. Sit here, dear, where you can watch the people. -Do put those parcels on the floor, Usk, and sit down.” - -“I’m trying to decide whether Miss Waverley takes me for your equerry -or your footman,” said Usk. “In either case she will be very much -scandalised if she catches me sitting down. I think I had better -receive the things from her and present them. Does your Majesty wish -to be served on the knee?” - -“I wish you to sit down in the place that is left for you, and to -amuse the Princess Helene while her mother and I have a talk.” - -“Ma’am, I obey,” and Usk took the seat pointed out to him. “How will -your Grand-Ducal Highness please to be amused?” he asked of Helene. - -“Why are you talking in this way? It is not at all like you,” she said -wearily, and he noticed that the pale little face looked thinner, and -that the eyes were heavy. “Why should you make this pretence?” - -“Because the world is full of pretence, and we can’t get away from -it,” he answered, bitterly enough. Her eyes sought his face in a -moment. - -“Oh, I am sorry,” she said quickly. “I ought to have known that there -was something wrong. I see it in your eyes.” - -“I had rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind. But I might say -the same thing to you. Something has gone wrong, hasn’t it?” - -“Ivan Petrovitch has found out that I call him the Tartar, and papa is -so angry. He made me apologise to him.” - -“And how did he take it?” - -“Oh, as one would expect. He only said smoothly, ‘I hope the Princess -Helene will think better of me when she has more opportunity of -judging,’ but his voice made me shiver. What did he mean?” - -“Well, you know,” said Usk, as her eyes met his again with that look -of horror in them, “I told you----” - -“Don’t say you told me it was a foolish thing to do. I know it, but I -am quite unhappy enough without that.” She sat looking out between the -draperies which shaded their corner, but her eyes seemed to see -nothing of the gay room and the busy people. Then she turned suddenly -to Usk again. “I am very rude and absent of mind,” she said. “You must -forgive me, please. I wanted to tell you that I saw your beautiful -lady yesterday.” - -“Miss Steinherz?” growled Usk. - -“Who else could it be? She is very, very beautiful, and her beauty is -uncommon--original--how shall I say it?--witchlike?--oh no, that has a -bad meaning in English, has it not? Spirit-like? ah, that is it. She -is an Undine--before she had found her soul, of course.” - -“Why do you say ‘of course’?” asked Usk. Helene started. - -“Oh, I beg your pardon. What could I have been thinking of? Please -forgive me, I ought not to have said such a thing. It was merely a -silly thought of mine. Do forget it, please.” - -“I think it was the truth,” said Usk bitterly. “At least, if she has a -soul, I have not found it, but I don’t think she has.” - -“Oh, don’t say that. She is so beautiful.” - -“Judge for yourself. I have fought against it a long time, but now it -is forced upon me. She does not love me, and only tolerates me near -her to make another man jealous.” - -“Oh no, no!” Her tone was sharp with pain. “You love her, and yet you -can say this to me--almost a stranger!” - -“I have not dared to say it to myself before, but it’s better to face -it,” was the stubborn reply. “I oughtn’t to sadden you with it, I -know, but I can’t talk to my uncle and aunt about it.” - -“It will not sadden me, if I can help you. See, you have misunderstood -Miss Steinherz, have you not? She conceals her love, perhaps, she is -shy and proud? Perhaps even she coquets with you; she shows kindness -to another suitor for the sake of teasing you? That is foolish, it is -even wrong; but the heart is there, and loves you. You do not -understand women very much, perhaps? So often they think it -undignified, unwise, to let the love they truly have be seen. That is -it, is it not? not--not what you say. A good woman could not act in -that way, and she must be a good woman if you have chosen her to love -out of all the world.” - -“I wish I could think so!” said Usk, in a tone of such misery that -Helene’s eyes filled with tears. - -“Oh, if only I could help you!” she said. “I can only pray--pray that -the good God will show you her heart full of love for you, that you -may learn how you have misjudged her. Think how you will be obliged to -humble yourself before her when you discover the truth!” - -“I shouldn’t mind that,” said Usk, with the ghost of a smile. - -“I’m afraid our tea-party won’t add very largely to the profits of the -refreshment-stall,” said the Grand-Duchess. “I think we have eaten one -cake of five centimes between us. Lenchen, darling, you are -over-tired. Eat one of these cream-cakes, to please me.” - -“I can’t, mamma. I am not hungry.” - -“I can give them a five-franc piece, if you like, madame,” suggested -Usk, “and ask them to add the change to their profits.” - -“Ah, that is a good idea. And if you see our _chasseur_, Lord Usk, -perhaps you will kindly tell him to call up the carriage.” - -Neither Queen Ernestine nor Usk spoke much as they returned to the -hotel, for both were thinking of the conversation at the tea-table; -but as soon as Usk had put down his parcels, and betaken himself to -Nicholson’s rooms, the Queen turned impulsively to her husband. - -“Oh, Cyril,” she said, “they are going to sacrifice that poor child!” - -“Little Helene? Is it all settled?” - -“They have not told her yet, but I can’t help thinking that she begins -to perceive the truth. There is a look in her eyes----” - -“But why doesn’t the Grand-Duchess break it to her, and let her have -time to get accustomed to the idea?” - -“She is afraid. The child has such a horror of Ivan Petrovitch that -Adelheid thinks it would nearly kill her. She has always been so -delicate, you know.” - -“But it will be much worse, surely, if it comes upon her suddenly?” - -“So I should think, but I can see that Adelheid is afraid both of Ivan -Petrovitch and her husband. Ludwig is bent upon the marriage. He has -never cared very much for Helene; she has always been her mother’s -child. And he thinks he sees the romantic strain coming out in her.” - -“No doubt of that, I should say. It is really curious how it reappears -once or twice in a generation.” - -“Yes; and Ludwig can never forget his cousin Ernest Albrecht, who died -long ago. He was originally intended to marry Adelheid, you know, but -they allowed him, after years of waiting, to resign his rank and -betroth himself to dear Sister Chriemhild at Brutli. Ludwig is -determined never to allow anything of the kind while he is head of the -family.” - -“Still, he might find the girl a more attractive husband of her own -rank than that unspeakable Scythian. Has the Grand-Duchess pointed -that out to him?” - -“Ah, but Ivan Petrovitch is also determined upon the match. I hope I -don’t misjudge him, Cyril--or rather I hope I do, for Helene’s -sake--but it seems to me that he sees the child’s horror of him, and -enjoys it. It gives him actual pleasure to play upon her sensitive -nature, and watch the torture it inflicts upon her.” - -“Pah! it makes one sick!” said Cyril, rising hastily, and walking up -and down the room. “But what can we do, Ernestine? We can’t interfere -to prevent a marriage which the girl’s own parents have arranged.” - -“I thought you might be able to think of something.” - -“Nothing would be any good, except to provide a more eligible suitor, -and where is he to be found? You could hardly wish me to make definite -proposals on Usk’s behalf when he has no eyes for any one but -Félicia?” - -“No, certainly not. Besides, Ludwig would not think him at all -eligible. I only wish he might. It is wonderful how Helene has taken -to him. She seems to open out like a flower in the sunshine. Adelheid -was quite delighted at first, but to-day she asked me to arrange that -they should not meet much. She is afraid that Ludwig might think they -were falling in love.” - -“Really these complications seem hopeless. I suppose Usk will see -before long that Félicia is simply fooling him, but I don’t in the -least think he will turn to Helene for consolation. He will be very -hard hit.” - -“And the woman who treats him in this way will marry Michael!” - -“Well, if she jilts Usk for him, we must infer that she loves -Michael,” said Cyril drily. - -“Loves his crown, perhaps. But that is uncharitable. Still, what hope -can there be of her exercising a good influence over him? Oh, Cyril, -isn’t it terrible to see everything going wrong around one, and not to -be able to put it right?” - -“I thought you believed that, after all, things were better managed -than you could arrange them yourself?” - -“I know. I am wrong to be so faithless. But one cannot see how all -this is to end.” - - -Usk walked away from the Villa Bougainvillea with bent head and -compressed lips, and crossing the Avénue de la Gare, took the -direction of the Cornice Road. Félicia had befooled him once more. It -was arranged that he should come to the Villa at a certain time in the -afternoon, as he had done each day since their reconciliation, more -with the object of asserting his rights than because he felt any -special pleasure in Félicia’s society. To-day, as he approached the -house, he had caught a distant glimpse of a motor-car dashing off in -the opposite direction, and it was hardly with surprise that he heard -the servant say that madame and mademoiselle were not at home. There -was a meaning look in the man’s eyes, and for a moment Usk thought of -asking him where the ladies were. But he rejected with disgust the -idea of bribing a servant to spy upon Félicia, and moreover, there in -the drive were the marks of the wheels of the automobile, conclusive -evidence. Conscious that the man was watching his face with malicious -interest, he remarked merely that he would look in again later, and -walked slowly down the steps with head erect. But when he was out of -sight of the door, he gave up the pretence, and his pace quickened -insensibly. He must walk on and on until he was away from every one, -and could think over this last treachery and all that it implied. -Crowded streets and close-set houses, villas in gardens, desolate -building-land with straggling beginnings of avenues and terraces here -and there--they were all passed at last, and he was breasting the -slope of the mountain. Past the Observatory, up a farther ascent, and -he came upon a quiet spot enough, though four roads met there. He left -the road and plunged into the wilderness of low scented bushes, hating -the perfume they gave out as he crashed through them. Mounting a -hillock, he found a spot bare of bushes, and flung himself on the -turf, invisible to any one passing along the road. For a time he could -only lie there writhing in impotent passion, digging his feet into the -ground, and tearing up handfuls of grass and tiny flowers and flinging -them away. The instinct of destruction was strong upon him. He loathed -the beauties round him and the beauty outspread in front--the long -slopes clad in every shade of green, grey-green of olives, light-green -of carob, dark-green of orange and lemon-trees, bright-green of -pistachio, stretching down to the almost painful blue of the sea, from -which the eye sought relief gladly in the white of the town opposite -and the grey of the castle crowning the hill above the harbour. It -gave him no pleasure, even when the breeze ruffled the olives suddenly -into silver, and revealed gleams of gold among the orange-groves. He -hated the whole prospect for its very beauty. It was like Félicia, -beautiful, changeful, cruel. - -After a time the keenness of the pain which possessed him became a -little dulled, and he found himself resolving upon his future course. -To depart at once from Nice, leaving a scathing letter of farewell for -Félicia, was the plan which suggested itself first, but it was -obviously incomplete. He had realised now that he had nothing to hope -for from her in the way either of justice or tenderness, and it would -be a mistake to allow her to declare that he had gone away in a fit of -jealousy without giving her a chance of explaining matters. No, he -must see her again, distasteful as the thought was. She would try, no -doubt, to entangle him again in her sophistries, to wind him round -with that net of cajolery into which he had walked with his eyes open, -but this time it would be in vain. Never in his life had he felt so -miserable, so degraded, as during the past week, when Félicia had -been everything that was tender and affectionate. He had deteriorated -morally since he had condoned her faithlessness for the sake of her -beauty and her fascinations, but he was not the man to regard such -deterioration with equanimity. He would free himself from the toils -and turn his back upon Félicia for ever, returning to England wiser, -if poorer, robbed, as it seemed, of one whole side of his life. He had -no doubt as to his own course, but he must make it clear to Félicia -that he was leaving her finally--must place the issues before her so -plainly that she could not evade them or wriggle out of her -responsibility. - -How this was to be done was the question. The moral agony through -which he had passed seemed to have blunted his mental powers. His -reasonings ended abruptly, as though he had come suddenly to a blank -wall or fallen from a height; and though he struggled with himself, he -could not arrive at any decision. He was still lying on the turf, -utterly spent, his hands gripping the clods he had torn up, when a -voice behind him said, “Lord Usk!” - -He turned angrily and sprang to his feet, enraged that any one should -have observed him in this dark hour. Behind him stood a tall lady very -elaborately dressed in black. Her face, with its strongly marked -features and dark eyes, was handsome, though worn, and her abundant -black hair was still without a thread of grey. Usk knew her well. She -was the Princess Dowager of Dardania, who had shown a good deal of -interest in his sister Philippa and himself two years since at -Ludwigsbad. - -“I must apologise for intruding upon you,” said the Princess, as he -stood speechless, “but I saw you from my windows--with a -telescope,”--she pointed to a house just discernible among the trees -on one of the upper slopes,--“and I ventured to follow you. Perhaps -you would not mind coming a little lower down the hill? There is a -spot where we can be quite sheltered from observation, and I should -not like the dear young friend for whose sake I am here to know what I -had done.” - -Usk obeyed in silence. Speech seemed to have forsaken him, and he -could only follow the Princess, and sit down on the turf opposite her, -as her gesture invited him to do. - -“We need not beat about the bush,” she said. “You, like me, have a -particular interest just now in King Michael of Thracia,--I because -his fickleness is breaking the heart of the dear girl who is my one -comfort, you because he has chosen for the time being to set his -affections upon your _fiancée_.” - -Usk bowed, and opened his lips to speak, but the Princess held up her -hand. - -“Wait, if you please. I sympathise with you sincerely, but chiefly for -reasons with which you are not at present acquainted. Bad as his -conduct is, Michael is not wholly to blame. He is inspired by others, -who have taken advantage of his weakness of character to serve their -own ends. Don’t interrupt me,” as Usk, who began to see whither this -was tending, raised his head again, “but listen. The whole affair is -the work of your uncle, Count Mortimer. I don’t say that he is working -for his own aggrandisement in any vulgar sense, but with his incurable -instinct of intrigue, he has seen how to reap advantage from Michael’s -inconstancy.” - -“Before you go any further, madame,” said Usk firmly, “I may as well -tell you that nothing you can say will make me doubt my uncle’s good -faith.” - -An angry shadow crossed the Princess’s face. “Perhaps you will at -least have the politeness to hear what I have to say before you -decline to believe it,” she said. “I am doing Count Mortimer all -possible justice, and distinguishing him absolutely from the common -herd of adventurers, when I say that the prospect of securing Miss -Steinherz’s millions in his own family had no charms for him. It was -much too simple and obvious. But when the preposterous claim which the -young lady has chosen to put forward came to his knowledge, then he -saw an opening for his peculiar talents. You do not need me to tell -you that Miss Steinherz’s claim is utterly hopeless, judged by the -family laws of the houses both of Albret and Hohenstaufen. The -marriage in London is invalid on the face of it, and of the asserted -marriage at Vindobona not a single witness has come forward. Even if -it could be proved to have taken place, it was invalid without the -sanction of the Emperor and the King of Cantabria, as well as of the -Pope. But strange things are sometimes done in the name of expediency, -and your uncle thinks that for the sake of her millions Miss Steinherz -might possibly be admitted into a family which is in chronic want of -money, to settle a difficulty which demands large sums. Here, then, is -the state of the case. Michael, engaged to my dear Sonya, whose dowry -would put an end to all his difficulties, is deliberately exposed to -the charms of Miss Steinherz, who is betrothed to you, and he -succumbs, but cannot marry her since she is not of royal blood. Now -steps in Count Mortimer. To provide Michael with a bride of German -descent, and furnish the needed money without expense to the Three -Powers, will give him a claim on their gratitude, which is just what -he needs for the furtherance of his private ends. Your love, your -interests, have no part in his scheme. He does not broach his idea -until Miss Steinherz’s claim has been definitely rejected by the house -of Albret, and then he approaches the Emperor, his constant patron in -the past. The Grand-Duke of Schwarzwald-Molzau is sent to report on -the affair. You have wondered, perhaps, why King Michael has absented -himself for nearly a week from the Villa Bougainvillea, while you have -been received there. It was simply because the Grand-Duke was sending -his report to Vindobona, and waiting for the answer. To-day it has -arrived, and he is authorised to see Miss Steinherz and find out what -extent of recognition will satisfy her. You have still time, but only -just time, to put an end to the affair. If Miss Steinherz is satisfied -with the acknowledgment that her father was morganatically married, -she will receive no more, naturally, and Michael cannot marry her. If -she stood alone she would not get that; but in view of her betrothal -to you, I think it might be conceded. But the idea is that the -marriage shall be retrospectively recognised as fully legal, and the -girl raised by letters-patent to the status of a Princess of Arragon; -and things have gone so far now that you can only prevent this through -your uncle.” - -“And how is that to be worked, madame?” - -“Go straight to Count Mortimer, and tell him”--her nostrils dilated, -and there was something tigerish about her mouth--“that every detail -of his plot for establishing himself in Palestine is in my hands. I -know of everything, down to the penny subscription among the poorest -of those he has deluded to purchase a crown and royal robes for the -‘Prince of the Captivity,’ as they call him. The whole proceedings at -every meeting of the conspirators are reported to me, their agents are -known and followed everywhere. If he renounces this marriage project -of his I will take no further steps. When Michael marries Sonya I can -afford to laugh at Count Mortimer and his puny tricks in the East. But -if he goes on I will hand over all my information immediately to -Prince Soudaroff, and he may guess how much hope he has of success, -even of safety, after that. There is my message, which will restore -happiness to you, and also to the poor girl who is breaking her heart -for Michael. Will you deliver it?” - -“I will deliver it to Count Mortimer, madame.” - -“You exhibit no superabundant gratitude, Lord Usk. Surely if I restore -you your bride and her fortune, and also give you the opportunity of -saving your uncle from the consequences of his own imprudence, I -deserve thanks, at least?” - -Usk smiled involuntarily. It did not seem to strike the Princess that -he could have any hesitation in marrying Félicia, although Félicia -was moving heaven and earth to enable her to marry King Michael. -Probably her fortune was expected to obviate any distaste he might -feel. - -“Surely, madame, success and the applause of your own conscience would -be reward enough?” - -“Your uncle has been speaking against me!” she cried angrily. - -“Indeed, madame, I have never heard him express anything but the -highest possible admiration for your talents.” - -“You are too polite. It would be well not to imitate your uncle too -closely in his cleverness, lest you should do so also in his fate. Is -it allowable to ask what you intend to do about Miss Steinherz?” - -“I have not made up my mind, madame. But I shall not forget to deliver -your message. May I have the honour of escorting you home?” - -She declined the offer with a gesture, and, descending into the road, -walked slowly towards the house in the trees, while Usk turned his -steps again towards Nice. This new information gave him the crowning -test of which he had vaguely felt the need. After all, it was just -possible that Félicia might even now care for him enough to decide in -his favour rather than lose him altogether, and she should determine -matters for herself. The hour of struggle on the hill-top had not been -wasted, for he had made his decision. He would not be her slave any -longer. - -Félicia gave a little scream when he was suddenly announced at the -Villa. She was in a small upstairs sitting-room, which was sacred to -her and Maimie, and she was wearing a black gown with white ruffles, -which gave her a most incongruously Puritan look. Usk’s lip curled in -spite of himself as he saw that her hair was dressed to correspond -with the gown, for it was evident that she was ready to receive the -Grand-Duke. Maimie, no doubt, had suggested the pose, so well carried -out, of the daughter only lately bereaved, turning wistfully for -consolation to her dead father’s family. Usk himself knew too much to -be anything but an intruder at this moment. - -“I wasn’t just expecting you,” Félicia gasped. - -“I won’t stay unless you wish it,” he returned. “If you will just tell -me whether you intend to marry King Michael or me, I shall know -whether to go or not.” - -“But I can’t tell you right now,” objected Félicia, taken aback, -“because--why----” - -“Because you don’t know. You’ll marry Michael if you can get him, and -if not, then you’ll put up with me. But I don’t care for being put up -with, and if you mean to think of Michael still, I will go.” - -“Well, then, you’re just horrid!” cried Félicia angrily. “I guess -I’ve told you ’most a dozen times that I like you best, but if I’m a -princess I must marry according to my rank.” - -“Won’t do, Fay. If you stick to me I’ll stick to you, princess or no -princess; but if not, I prefer to depart now rather than later.” - -There were genuine tears in Félicia’s eyes. “You won’t understand, -Usk,” she said, “and I don’t see but it must seem strange to you. I -don’t pretend to be romantic--American girls aren’t generally that, I -guess--but I like you, really. If they reject my claim after all, I’ll -just settle down real happily with you, and you’ll forget all of -this.” - -“And if they acknowledge it, you’ll settle down happily with me all -the same?” - -Félicia looked down. “I guess I won’t just have things in my own -hands then,” she said. - -“Oh yes, you will, if you choose. If you’re engaged to me, I’ll take -good care that you don’t marry any one else.” - -“You don’t know the temptation of a crown, Usk,” said Félicia softly. - -“I know my father tried it, and was jolly glad to give it up.” - -“Oh, your father!” The tone was eloquent. “But for me, Usk!” - -“Very well; if you prefer your crown, say so, and I’ll go.” - -“You’re real tiresome, fussing me like this. Do just wait a little.” - -“Not another hour,” said Usk. - -“Say, Fay!” Maimie burst into the room, “come right down; the -Grand-Duke’s here. Don’t stop to prink. That gown is just distracting -already.” - -“Now, Fay, decide,” said Usk. “If you make up your mind to stick to -me, it’s natural for me to be with you when you receive the -Grand-Duke, and to explain to him that we are engaged. If you tell me -you don’t want me to be there, I shall know you are giving me up.” - -“Do tell!” cried Maimie. “Who asked you to make conditions, Lord Usk? -Send him off right away, Fay.” - -“You said you cared for me,” urged Usk. Félicia wavered. - -“Félicia Steinherz, if you give in now I’m done with you,” said -Maimie, and Félicia unhooked Usk’s ring from her bangle, and threw it -at him. - -“I just hate you both!” she cried; “but I’ve concluded which to -choose.” - - - - - CHAPTER XIII. - _MALA SORTE._ - -“Is that you, Usk? Come in. Why, what’s gone wrong?” - -“Félicia and I have broken it off. I thought you’d be glad to know.” - -“I am interested to hear it. You broke it off, I hope?” - -“I suppose you would say it was done by mutual consent,” said Usk -drearily. “I told her to choose between the King and me, and she chose -him.” - -“I am glad she has made a definite choice, at any rate,” said his -uncle. “Hard hit, Usk? What do you mean to do.” - -“Leave this to-morrow, unless you or Aunt Ernestine want me for -anything.” - -“Why, where are you off to?” - -“Only to London. My father will be busy with this Bill of his, and I -daresay I can help him a little.” - -“Right. Throw yourself into it. Work as hard as you can. But don’t you -think such a sudden departure will seem a little marked?” - -“I don’t know. I can’t help it.” Usk wondered why his uncle was -looking at him with such a curious, meditative gaze. “I couldn’t stay -here and meet them every day.” - -“I suppose not. The natural instinct is to hide yourself, no doubt. -But don’t give way to it more than you can help. It’ll soon wear off, -and you will find some one who will compensate you for everything.” - -“Never!” said Usk, so tragically that Cyril only restrained a smile -with difficulty. “I may marry, to please my father and mother, but I -can never feel again to any woman as I have done to Félicia.” - -“Don’t be too sure. Why, if you stayed on here for a day or two, you -might even find your heart caught at the rebound almost at once.” - -“If you knew how I have loved and--and believed in Félicia, you -wouldn’t say that--and I thought she loved me. How could I ever trust -a woman again who said she cared for me? I believe these French -marriages are better, after all. If you don’t love a woman, it can’t -hurt so much when she plays you false.” - -“My dear Usk, you will allow me to say that you are talking very great -and very youthful nonsense. But I will remember your partiality for -arranged marriages, and possibly I may be able to gratify you at some -future time. And don’t make sweeping statements about women, because -that only shows how young you are. You are prejudiced just now.” - -“Prejudiced? I should think I was!” laughed Usk fiercely. “Why, as I -came home just now, I couldn’t see a fellow walking with a girl -without wanting to call out to him that she was making a fool of him.” - -“You had better go back to London, certainly, and forswear female -society for the present. It would be brutal to inflict you on any -unfortunate girl while you are in this state of mind. Your aunt will -agree with me, though we shall miss you.” - -“Oh, but there’s another thing!” cried Usk, with sudden recollection. -“Don’t you think you had better come home too? The Princess of -Dardania came and spoke to me this afternoon, and gave me a message -for you. She wants the King to marry the girl she’s got staying with -her, you know, and she says if you don’t let him do it, she’ll tell -Prince Soudaroff all your plans.” - -“Well, she ought to know by this time that Michael will marry to -please himself, and not either her or me.” - -“Yes; but she thinks you can keep him from marrying Félicia, at any -rate.” - -“I see; you were to warn me and have Félicia back? But you went to -her first.” - -“It didn’t seem to strike the Princess that I might prefer her to -marry Michael if she wanted him. I didn’t need a bribe to warn you. -She says that all your arrangements are known to her as soon as they -are made, and that she has agents at all your meetings, and that your -life is in danger.” - -“And you remembered what I told you at Llandiarmid, and wisely -concluded that the matter was not pressing? Quite right. The Princess -knows only of the sham plot, not of the real one. At all the -headquarters it is arranged who is to act as her tool, and provide her -with carefully edited reports--a sort of bogus information-bureau for -her special benefit. She has not the faintest idea that the plot to -establish me in Palestine is really one to establish Malasorte in -Neustria. To make things safe, in case any genuine spies should be -present, he is always spoken of as Mortimer, and Neustria as -Palestine, and so on--in fact, there is a regular code. So you see she -is quite at fault.” - -“But you’re only thinking of your schemes, and I’m thinking of you. If -she and Prince Soudaroff believe in the bogus plot, it’s just as -dangerous for you as if it was genuine. I don’t believe you’re safe -anywhere but in England or at Sitt Zeynab.” - -“Why, what should she do--burn the hotel down, or kidnap me? Paschics -and Dietrich and I keep a very good look-out, I can assure you. If I -believed there was actual danger, do you think I would expose my wife -to it?” - -“But why not come to England?” - -“And leave Michael’s affairs to go wrong again? Now that we have -eliminated you, as I wished, I hope to set them right before very -long. No, don’t be afraid; I shall do my work.” - -“If you had seen her face when she spoke of you----” - -“My dear Usk, I don’t doubt her will to ruin me body and soul, but -merely her power. If she had me anywhere in the wilds of Dardania, -now, with a few half-Roumi retainers within call--but she hasn’t, and -if I can help it, she won’t get the chance. That’s enough.” - -Thus dismissed, Usk carried to Queen Ernestine the news of his -approaching departure, and noticed that she looked at him with the -same anxious, questioning glance as his uncle. She said nothing, -however, save to agree that it was better he should go, and he went to -tell Nicholson, who was quite prepared to make a personal grievance -out of the announcement. - -“I’m awfully sorry,” said Usk, when a fit of coughing had forced the -invalid to desist from his animadversions upon the vile selfishness -which was about to deprive him of the only man he knew in this -wretched place, “but I really can’t stay. You see, I--I---- Well, I -didn’t know you liked seeing me so much, but I tell you what I’ll do. -I’ll ask my aunt to come and see you sometimes, and that’ll be much -better.” - -“Oh, don’t alter your plans for me,” muttered Nicholson frigidly. “If -your aunt cares to come in, I shall be thankful, and if she doesn’t, I -shan’t be surprised. I shan’t long be a bother to any one, but I never -thought you would go and leave me out here like this.” - -Usk felt somewhat guilty, but he reflected that, after all, he had not -brought Nicholson to Nice, and that his visits had never seemed to -give him any particular pleasure. At any rate, he could not bring -himself to alter his determination, for the whole aspect of the place -was hateful to him now. He thought of London mud and fog with absolute -yearning, feeling that this sunlit white and green town with its -fringing blue sea could never be anything but a loathed memory in -future. Idleness was intolerable, and such sports as the Riviera -afforded were not much better. Work was his only hope--to plunge into -it, bury himself in it, and thus to forget the dazzling, disquieting, -bitterly disappointing experiences of the past few months. Therefore -he remained immovable, and, in spite of Nicholson’s fretful -objections, insisted on bringing the Queen to see him the next day. -Nicholson was too ill now to be conscious of the awed satisfaction -that the rank of his visitor would have caused him in his days of -health, but the gracious kindness which had conquered so many hearts -did not fail of its effect with him; and when the Queen had promised -to visit him every day, and talk to him a little if he was well -enough, he was quite ready to let Usk go. Thus relieved of his chief -anxiety, Usk had time to make a farewell call on the Grand-Duke and -Duchess, neither of whom he saw, and then applied himself to the -preparations for his journey. - -Late in the afternoon he was on his way to the station, alone, by his -own wish, when he found that his rug had been left behind, and sent -his driver back for it, himself walking on to get his ticket. -Presently a carriage drew up just beyond him, and a resplendent -_chasseur_ came to say that the Grand-Duchess of Schwarzwald-Molzau -would be glad to speak to him if he could spare her a moment. When he -reached the carriage, the Grand-Duchess insisted on giving him a lift -to the station, and talked volubly of the loss his absence would prove -to his uncle and aunt. - -“And, indeed, we shall all be so sorry to lose you--shan’t we, -Lenchen?” she turned suddenly to her daughter, who had sat silent -hitherto, leaning back wearily in her place. It struck Usk that if her -face had looked thin the other day, it was now actually pinched and -drawn, and he wondered whether it could be merely the afternoon light -filtering through the fresh foliage of the plane-trees which made her -look so ghastly. Her lips seemed to be moving, but she roused herself -with a start at her mother’s appeal, and Usk felt that there was -strong entreaty in the eyes which met his through her veil as she -answered-- - -“Yes, we shall all be very sorry.” - -Usk felt vaguely uncomfortable. What could she want him to do? She had -blushed violently when his intent gaze showed that he had read her -look, and would not meet his eye again; but when the station was -reached, and he bade her good-bye, he surprised that piteous glance -once more. It haunted him for some time, until at last he thought he -had found a clue to it. - -“They’re worrying her to marry that brute Ivan Petrovitch, and she -wanted to have another talk, and relieve her feelings,” he said to -himself. “It’s awfully hard on her, poor little girl! but the -Grand-Duchess is a good-natured old lady, and won’t let her be -badgered into accepting him if she really dislikes him. What a world -it is! One can’t marry the woman he wants, and another is tormented to -marry a man she doesn’t want. The pater and mater won’t tease me to -get married, but I know they’d be awfully pleased if I did--some nice -good little girl with nothing baffling or exciting about her, whose -mind I could read like a book. There are those two Jones girls, now, -the mater would like one of them--be quite her right hand in -pauperising the estate. But I don’t a bit know which of them is which, -and yet they must be quite different, of course. It’ll have to depend -upon which of them I come across first. No, I really think one might -study them a little, even in making a sacrifice of oneself, just to -see which was most suitable. But to have the Reverend Goronwy for a -father-in-law! Why, he’d be always about the Castle. The mater -wouldn’t like that. I think we must get him moved to a distance before -doing anything serious. That’s a respite, anyhow. If the mater is very -miserable about me, I can tell her I’m thinking of one of the Jones -girls, and she’ll be pleased. But I never want to see a girl again. -Hope the Trade will move heaven and earth against the Bill, so that we -may have a rousing time. Only wish it was the Commons--I do bar the -Lords.” - - -“Exit Viscount Usk!” said Maimie, and read aloud from the paper she -was scanning: “‘Viscount Usk left Nice for England on Wednesday. -During the present parliamentary session he will act as private -secretary to his father, the Marquis of Caerleon, to whom, as a -leading light of the Temperance party, it has fallen to pilot the -Anti-Tied-Houses Bill through the House of Lords.’ That ends a -chapter, Fay.” - -“Well, I hope you’re right happy now. You’ve destroyed the one chance -I had of being a good woman, and don’t you forget it.” - -“I didn’t know you had aspirations that way; but I guess Lady Caerleon -would receive you with open arms even now if you went back to her -properly penitent.” - -“Not I--but I wish I cared for Usk either more or less. If I didn’t -care for him, I wouldn’t mind his going; and if I was really in love -with him, I wouldn’t have had him go.” - -“You don’t care for him,” said Maimie decisively. “If you did, a crown -wouldn’t have tempted you. You just felt sort of safe with him, -knowing that he would be kind and fair all the time, whatever you -might do. And just tell me what would have happened if I hadn’t helped -you get rid of him? When the Grand-Duke said he understood you were -betrothed to the son of the Marquis of Caerleon, and that in view of -such an honourable alliance the Emperor might be willing to -acknowledge your father as morganatically married, and give you a -patent of nobility--didn’t that show you where you stood? You were on -the very point of losing everything. If we hadn’t been able to tell -him that there had been some thought of such a thing once, but you had -broken it off because Usk objected to your pressing the claim, you’d -have been just simply left!” - -“That’s so,” responded Félicia. “It’s as well to be through with it, -any way. I love that old Grand-Duke--he’s a real nice man.” The liking -was mutual, although Félicia had said things to the Grand-Duke which -would have made Helene’s hair stand on end with horror if she had -heard them. “But I can’t just see why he don’t have his wife and -daughter call on us.” - -“Why, it isn’t advisable yet. They can’t treat you as a princess -before you are one, and they’d think you wouldn’t just choose to be -treated as a no-account person. Say, Fay! she’s betrothed--that little -plain girl.” Maimie was still glancing over the paper. “Do you -remember the evil-looking Scythian that was riding in the -Grand-Duchess’s carriage yesterday--the dark man with the beard? -That’s the happy man. ‘A marriage has been arranged, and will take -place at Molzau shortly after Easter, between the Grand-Duke Ivan -Petrovitch of Scythia and the Princess Helene, youngest and only -unmarried daughter of the Grand-Duke and Duchess of -Schwarzwald-Molzau.’” - -“Shortly after Easter? Then we won’t see it!” cried Félicia. “I do -think these folks might hustle things a little. To keep me waiting -months this way, and not even let me stay here, is just horrid!” - -“But the yacht!” Maimie reminded her. “We’ll have a lovely time these -weeks, and it’ll be real elegant to appear among your new relations in -your own ship.” - -“Well, I don’t know,” said Félicia doubtfully. As delicately as he -could, the Grand-Duke had suggested that pending the decision of the -Emperor and the Prince of Arragon on her claim, it would be well for -her to withdraw herself to a certain extent from the public eye. A -sojourn in some quiet mountain village, whither her fame as an -American heiress would not precede her, and where her footsteps would -not be dogged by reporters, would best suit the views of her father’s -august relations. Maimie, reading between the lines of his speech, saw -that some rumour of the Carnival proceedings and other doings of the -kind had reached him, and forestalled Félicia’s indignant refusal by -suggesting that she should send for the Bluebird, the beautiful -steam-yacht which Mr Steinherz had designed and constructed for -himself, and sailed in all the Western seas, so as to take a short -cruise in the Mediterranean. The idea did not displease Félicia, and -to the Grand-Duke it came as such an evident relief that she could not -refuse to adopt it, especially when she found the yacht could not -reach Nice before Mid-Lent, which would enable her to take part in the -Battle of Flowers and other festivities of the occasion. But there -were details in connection with the proposed cruise which still -rankled in her mind, and again she turned angrily upon Maimie. “And I -do think, Maimie Logan, you might have stood by me, so’s we wouldn’t -have an old school-ma’am trail us along everywhere. It makes me real -mad to be shepherded around that way.” - -This referred to a proposal of the Grand-Duke’s that the chaperon on -board the Bluebird should not be Mrs van Zyl, but a lady of the -Pannonian Court, who might give the two girls various useful hints in -case of a change in their position. Félicia, who had delightful -dreams of fluttering the Imperial dovecotes by appearing among her -august relations as a frank and unashamed American, had been horrified -to hear Maimie acquiesce in the suggestion. In ordinary society -anywhere Maimie felt that she could hold her own and guide Félicia, -but on these lofty heights she was at fault, and she had the good -sense to see it. Félicia was more difficult to manage than she had -expected, but at last she succeeded in making her see that any _faux -pas_ on her first introduction would produce a bad impression and -alienate King Michael, and she yielded with a poor enough grace. - -“But you save so much time getting at things on the voyage,” Maimie -urged now. - -“How does that make up, when I wanted to take a real nice party on -board, and have a good time? It’s nothing but a snub to poor Sadie, I -say.” - -“She won’t have you see that she feels it so, any way. She’ll conclude -to keep track of you, with an eye to the future, I know. And I thought -the Grand-Duke fixed it real nicely to have this Baroness Radnika come -and stay at the hotel, so’s you could just fall in love with her, and -invite her to make the cruise with you.” - -“Oh, it’s all awfully smart, of course, and I guess Count Mortimer was -somewhere around when it was fixed. But for you and the Grand-Duke -both to insist that I must have this old dowd of a Baroness tag after -me, just because she knew pappa, and can teach me their tricks--why, -it’s the meanest thing out! I’m real thankful there’s the chance of a -frolic or two first. I’ll even up my accounts with you, you bet!” - -To Maimie this was sufficiently alarming, and yet, although Félicia -kept her word, and enjoyed herself thoroughly at the Mid-Lent -gaieties, the great and most disagreeable shock which the Battle of -Flowers brought with it was not due to her. As a reward for her -complaisance in withdrawing from the pleasures of society for the -present, she had promised herself the delight of outshining all -possible rivals before she disappeared from view. Her carriage was a -bower of irises in all the delicate shades which the flower presents, -and the occupants were dressed to correspond. Mrs van Zyl’s gown was a -soft harmony in yellow and lavender, Maimie wore white and dark -purple, and Félicia was in the colour she loved best, a clear pale -lilac, emphasised, but not unduly so, by the touches of black velvet -demanded by fashion. The scheme of decoration had been kept a profound -secret, and the “iris carriage” was greeted with shouts of admiration -from end to end of the course. Close at hand rode King Michael, duly -masked, but quite recognisable to the spectators, in a rich -gold-embroidered Thracian dress of two shades of purple. The -understanding which was implied by the correspondence between his -costume and those of the ladies suggested a hint of romance which the -populace were not slow to take, and he shared in the plaudits which -accompanied the carriage in its progress. Maimie felt a little uneasy, -wondering whether his action would be considered premature by his -relations, but before long she was conscious of quite a different -cause for anxiety. Among the mounted men by whom the line of carriages -was every now and then broken was one who seemed to be manœuvring to -place himself near Félicia, endeavouring also to attract her -attention by making his horse prance and curvet. He seemed to be short -of stature, but the close-fitting Mephistopheles dress which he wore, -carried out not in red but in black, set off a peculiarly graceful -figure, and he displayed a complete mastery over his restless steed. -His hair was black, and his eyes, when they could be distinguished -through the holes in his mask, dark and glittering. His mysterious -appearance was well calculated to rouse the curiosity of any one not -absolutely engrossed, as was Félicia, by her carriage, her clothes, -and her prize, and Maimie saw that King Michael was obviously uneasy. -Again and again, when the procession paused for a moment before one of -the tribunes, or when the carriage turned at the end of the course, he -interposed his horse so that the unknown cavalier should not approach -Félicia. His first idea had been that the stranger was his vanquished -rival, Usk, but it was obvious that the Englishman’s broad shoulders -could not possibly be hidden under the black doublet, and he scented a -deeper mystery. Presently another stoppage occurred before one of the -stands, in which sat the Grand-Duke and Duchess of Schwarzwald-Molzau -and the Grand-Duke Ivan Petrovitch. Bouquets were flying fast and -furiously, the air was full of roses, jonquils, violets, mimosa; -shrieks of laughter arose, now from the carriages and now from the -tribune, but King Michael took no part in the fray. In thrusting his -horse between Félicia’s carriage and the unknown rider, he had forced -the latter close to the Scythian Prince, who was staring at him in -astonishment, and presently addressed him in his own language. The -reply which reached King Michael’s ear, “An affair of the heart; you -won’t give me away?” only deepened his suspicions. Presently he was -able to leave Félicia in the safe keeping of his uncle, who asked to -be allowed to occupy the fourth seat in the carriage as it moved on -again, and he leaned over the railing to the Grand-Duke Ivan. - -“Who is the black Mephistopheles?” he asked. - -“You won’t betray him, I presume? Timoleon Malasorte.” - -“Then I was mistaken. I thought it was some one I knew, and I wanted -to play him a trick.” The King spoke with admirable nonchalance, but -he was inwardly perturbed. He knew the story of the Pretender’s -courtship of Félicia, and foresaw a repetition of it, and he blessed -the obtuseness of his uncle, who was enjoying himself hugely as the -butt of all the hardest bouquets, and claiming Félicia’s attention at -every turn. She looked round in vain for some one to deliver her, -while the Grand-Duke was giving her a long account of his daughter’s -obstinate refusal to attend the festivities with her betrothed. The -Grand-Duchess persisted she was ill; but he had been determined she -should go, and would have carried his point if his wife had not called -in a rascally, venal doctor to her aid. Félicia did not find Helene’s -delinquencies at all amusing, but while she sought for help, she did -not happen to glance in the direction of her former suitor. King -Michael returned to his post in the nick of time, and remained at her -side so gallantly for the rest of the afternoon that Malasorte had no -chance of accosting her. Apparently accepting his defeat, the Prince -dropped behind the carriage, but when King Michael saw him next, he -was picking up a spray of white lilac Maimie had dropped, and slipping -something with it into her hand. The King nursed his wrath in silence -until the return to the Villa, when he stopped Maimie as she was -following Félicia upstairs. - -“May I trouble you for the note Prince Malasorte gave you for the -Princess Félicia, mademoiselle?” - -Maimie stared at him in astonishment. She had not at all decided -whether to give Félicia the letter which Malasorte, relying on her -old friendliness, had entrusted to her, or not, but now she had to -come to a decision at once. What was the exact meaning of Malasorte’s -presence here, where he was at any moment liable to be arrested and -conducted to the frontier? Was he on his way to make himself emperor, -or was it only that he had learnt Félicia’s true descent, and desired -the support her family and fortune could give him in his campaign? -There were many things it would be well to know before determining the -fate of the letter, but here stood King Michael opposite her, holding -out his hand for it. “I guess I won’t jump at the shadow and lose the -substance,” she said to herself, and gave it to him. Somewhat to her -surprise he opened it immediately. - -“I am not like that poor fool Usk, to be deceived and hoodwinked, -mademoiselle,” he replied to her amazed look. “I protect myself, and -it appears it is necessary. Do you not think so?” He read from the -note: “‘Meet me at eight to-morrow morning in the garden of the Villa -Bougainvillea. I must speak to you. I have more to lay at your feet -than I had once.--M.’ Has he any ground for believing she would be -willing to meet him?” he demanded, looking Maimie sternly in the face. - -“None. She hasn’t a notion that he’s around. We lost sight of him -years back,” she answered, her tone anxious in spite of herself. - -“And if he renews his attempt, on which side are you? I wish to know, -that I may lay my plans accordingly. I am not to be tricked, -mademoiselle.” - -“On yours,” said Maimie firmly. “I don’t see throwing away all the -trouble and worry we’ve had these last months.” - -“You are wise. You will not find me ungrateful, but I beg you to -understand that I trust no one absolutely. To show that I am -favourably disposed towards you, I may tell you that Count Mortimer -has strongly recommended me to see that you are removed from the -household of the Princess before she becomes my wife. I mention this -that you may arrange with her to retain your services, for I find it -desirable to have at hand a trustworthy person with whom I can discuss -matters affecting the Princess which might be disagreeable to herself. -As long as your influence is exerted in compliance with my wishes, -your position in the Court will be secure.” - -“And when it’s exerted against your wishes----?” thought Maimie, as he -allowed her to depart. “You scored this time, you consequential little -wretch, but I guess you won’t do it any more. And as for your dear -stepfather, I’ll just count the days until I can punish him. Trying to -part me from Fay, indeed!” - -Nothing more was seen or heard of Prince Malasorte just then, and -Maimie guessed that Félicia’s non-appearance at the rendezvous had -disgusted him beyond remedy. Very shortly after the Battle of Flowers -she and Félicia embarked on the Bluebird, accompanied by the Baroness -Radnika, for whom, fortunately enough, Félicia had conceived one of -her sudden attachments. Maimie, who knew that the Baroness’s maiden -name had been Aline von Hartenweg, was not surprised by the passionate -tenderness with which she responded to Félicia’s endearments, and -wondered at the practical wisdom which had been shown in selecting -Prince Joseph’s old love as the instructress of his daughter. -Meanwhile, Mr Hicks was summoned from New York, bringing with him the -documents committed to his care; and alarming legal personages invaded -the parish of St Mary Windicotes, and the peaceful dwelling of the old -clergyman and his wife at Whitcliffe, demanding evidence on oath with -regard to the marriage of Joseph Bertram and Constance Lily Garland. -While the Bluebird cruised in the Western Mediterranean, never -spending more than one night away from port, the negotiations dragged -their slow length along. About once a-week a hitch appeared, which -threatened to bring them to a dead stop, but as King Michael -invariably marked these occasions by paying fresh attention to the -Grand-Duchess Sonya, matters were smoothed over in some way or other. - -The first hitch presented itself just after Mr Hicks’s arrival in -Europe, when the ‘Empire City Diurnal,’ a paper which was the -unresting rival of the ‘Crier,’ and even more noted for its skill in -exploiting sensations, suddenly published what purported to be an -interview with an intimate friend of Félicia’s. Her father’s history -was detailed in a highly-coloured style, embodying just enough of -truth to wring severely the withers of the royal and imperial -personages concerned, and ending with a claim, put forward apparently -in all seriousness, to the crown of Pannonia itself on Félicia’s -behalf. This claim was further pressed in a fervid editorial, calling -upon the manhood of the United States to arise and cross the ocean, -and sweep to destruction the effete usurpers who were keeping an -American woman out of her rights by force and fraud. A -subscription-list towards effecting this noble object followed, headed -by the proprietor and ending with the office-boy, and the names of -eleven volunteers (others were stated to be arriving in thousands) -appeared below. The extracts telegraphed at once to Europe raised a -ferment in Pannonian Court circles, and the Grand-Duke of -Schwarzwald-Molzau was very nearly driven to wash his hands altogether -of Félicia and her claims. Cyril happened to be in England at the -time, but Mr Hicks succeeded in saving the situation. An expenditure -at which the Grand-Duke stood aghast seemed nothing to him, and he -cabled whole columns to his own journal. The next day the ‘Crier,’ -strong in the indubitable fact of possessing one of the trustees of -the claimant on its staff, administered a douche of cold water to the -excited public of the ‘Diurnal.’ So far from possessing or advancing a -claim to any crown whatsoever, Miss Steinherz was solely concerned to -vindicate the good name of her mother; and the ‘Diurnal’s’ polemic was -nothing but an attempt to prejudice her in this sacred task by -alienating the august relatives who had welcomed the news of her -existence with tears of joy, and were only restraining their eagerness -to receive her into their midst in order that her claim might be -properly substantiated according to law. - -“Draw it mild, Hicks!” said Cyril, when they next met, and he read -this reply. “Any one can see you had your tongue in your cheek the -whole time.” - -“Is that so, Count? Well now, I’d bet my bottom dollar you’re the only -man that will see the thing was wrote sarcastic. There were tears in -the Grand-Duke’s eyes when he read it, any way. And in the States the -effect has been colossal, I hear, especially of the paragraph about -the ‘Diurnal’s’ stopping the cash-boys’ salaries to stick in its -subscription-lists. It isn’t every day a man can make a big scoop for -his paper and pat Europe on the head as well.” - -In any case, the ‘Diurnal’s’ sensation wilted, as Mr Hicks put it, and -no more was heard of it after the paper’s unfulfilled promise to -publish the name of the “distinguished lady” who had given the -information. The next difficulty came from Mr Steinherz’s elder -brother, Don Ramon, who demanded that before he considered her claim, -Félicia should prove her good faith by surrendering her fortune into -his hands as head of the house of Arragon. Her father’s will provided -effectually against this, and led to a deadlock; but as Félicia -intimated that her relations’ interests would receive careful -consideration from her if the relationship were established, the -difficulty was shelved. Then a hitch was caused by the discovery that -Konstantia von Lilienkranz was not sufficiently high in rank for even -the Emperor to raise her retrospectively to a level befitting the -bride of a Prince of Arragon. Cyril replied with the terse advice, -“Consult the heralds”; and after a little expenditure of time and -trouble Félicia’s mother was provided with a descent which rivalled -that of the Schwarzwald-Molzaus themselves. The difficulty which came -next threatened to be more serious; for the Church objected to the -recognition of the irregular marriage, on the ground that the Pope’s -consent to a mixed marriage had not been obtained, and that no -provision had been made for the children to be brought up in the Roman -Catholic faith. The solution obviously intended was that Félicia -should change her creed; but Cyril, on behalf of King Michael, pointed -out that this would make her impossible as a Queen for Thracia. The -Emperor, to whom the marriage offered a way out of many difficulties, -brought a despairing pressure to bear upon the Vatican, and the matter -was compromised on the understanding that Félicia should build and -endow a magnificent church to her father’s memory. She consented at -once, as she would have consented to build a mosque had it been -required of her; for the nearer she came to her goal, the more -intolerable did the thought of failing to reach it appear. It was a -joy to feel that Cyril and Mr Hicks were already discussing how her -fortune could best be applied to solve the financial problems of -Thracia without infringing the provisions of her father’s will; a -greater joy to learn that King Michael’s conditional proposal of -marriage had become a definite one; and greatest of all, to receive -through Mr Hicks a telegram, half-invitation, half-command, directing -her to proceed in her yacht to the Pannonian coast, that she might be -presented to her father’s family. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV. - FOR PITY’S SAKE. - -When Usk returned to England, he found his parents in London, -established in a corner of the vast mansion which had been built by -Lord Caerleon’s grandfather, the Peninsular General, and much adorned -by his son, the Crimean hero, in the palmy days of landowning. Both -these veterans took a keen professional interest in battle-pictures, -and had embellished Caerleon House with many square yards of warlike -frescoes, which their civilian descendant sometimes wished had been -painted on canvas, so that they could be removed and sold. When his -father’s death, or, strictly speaking, the duties consequent thereon, -left Lord Caerleon unable to keep up two establishments, he succeeded -in letting the town house on a long lease to a Northern magnate who -had made a fortune in sugar-refining, but now sugar, as well as land, -had fallen upon evil days. The house was on its owner’s hands once -more, and it was cheaper to encamp in some of the smaller rooms than -to live in lodgings, especially since Lady Caerleon’s chief desire was -for a drawing-room which she could lend for meetings. Thus, while in -the state apartments the blinds remained down, and the furniture -looked ghostly in holland wrappings, Usk and his parents lived and -worked, interviewed political friends and opponents, and furthered -various religious and philanthropic schemes, in the modest suite -traditionally allotted to the heir of the house, and called the -Viscount’s rooms. It did not occur to them to feel ashamed of their -obvious poverty, and they found pleasure in entertaining the few, -chiefly old friends or fellow-workers, who did not consider that -stinted means and lack of “smartness” placed the Caerleons beyond the -pale of decent society. - -As for Usk, he threw himself so completely into his parents’ interests -that he had no time to think even of running down to Llandiarmid, and -thus the peace of mind of Gwladys and Myfanwy Jones remained -undisturbed. Lord Caerleon’s Temperance measure had hitherto escaped -the different snares and pitfalls in its path, and was rapidly nearing -the goal which was the usual fate of the Bills he brought forward--a -piteous request from the Government for its withdrawal, since to press -it further would jeopardise the success of the complete and carefully -drawn scheme of reform which His Majesty’s Ministers intended to -introduce next session. It is a striking instance of the vanity of -human wishes that never in any case did the next session see the -introduction of such a Bill. - -This was the state of affairs when one afternoon, about the middle of -April, Cyril walked into Caerleon House, and found his brother and -sister-in-law in the great desolate conservatory, which was sparsely -sprinkled with pots of flowers sent up from Llandiarmid. Lady Caerleon -thought the conservatory the most country-like place in the house; and -her husband preferred it because to smoke in any of the other rooms -seemed like sacrilege. - -“Why, Cyril!” cried Lady Caerleon, catching sight of him first. “Is -the--is Ernestine here?” - -“No, I have run over alone. Usk’s out, I hope? I wanted to catch you -two together. Bill flourishing, Caerleon? The session onward plods its -weary way, I suppose? How does Usk work?” - -“Splendidly. When we have him in the Commons, we shall begin to move -at last, I feel certain.” - -“Good. No chance that the Southumberland seat will fall vacant just -yet, is there, though? Morrell will hang on until death or a general -election unseats him, and there’s no present likelihood of either, I -believe?” - -“Not that I know of.” - -“That’s all right, then. I want Usk.” - -Lady Caerleon turned pale. “Oh, Cyril, has Félicia repented?” - -“Never further from it. She is making splendid progress towards her -heart’s desire. But your maternal instinct was not at fault, Nadia. It -is on behalf of a prospective daughter-in-law that I am come to you.” - -“But Usk has never said anything----” - -“About her? I think he has. Has he never mentioned the Princess Helene -of Schwarzwald-Molzau?” - -“A Schwarzwald-Molzau!” cried Lord Caerleon, but his wife broke in-- - -“Yes, of course. We saw her engagement to the Grand-Duke Ivan, and Usk -was quite unhappy about it. He said the man was a brute.” - -“Well, it was broken off about a week ago, but I suppose the news has -not got into the English papers yet. That is the young lady.” - -“But, Cyril, I am quite sure Usk has never thought of her in that -way.” - -“It’s just possible he might learn to do it.” - -“But why should he? Oh, you can’t mean that she has fallen in love -with him, and let other people see it, when he hasn’t said a word to -her?” - -“Why that tone of deep disgust? I seem to remember a young lady once -whom I only dissuaded with the greatest difficulty from sending a -refusal, in writing, to a man who had never proposed to her.” - -“Unfair, Cyril!” cried Lord Caerleon. “Nadia couldn’t help knowing -that I cared for her.” - -“I can’t stand up against the two of you, that’s certain. Well, Nadia, -let me tell you the circumstances, and I think you will acquit poor -little Princess Lenchen of any worse crimes than a romantic -disposition, and an ingenuous readiness to take Usk on trust on the -strength of a childlike adoration for his uncle.” - -“Of course I don’t wonder at her falling in love with Usk,” said Usk’s -mother. - -“Of course you don’t. And she never told her love, at any rate, which -is an extenuating circumstance. You mustn’t think there was ever any -affection between her and Ivan Petrovitch. Her parents had been -pressing her to accept him, and she yielded suddenly at last, -about--yes, it must have been just about the time Usk came -home--simply because she had not vitality enough to hold out longer, I -should think. She looked like a ghost after the engagement, but she -was dragged out to all the gaieties there were, which in itself was -nearly enough to kill a delicate girl brought up very quietly in the -mountains. She looked worse and worse as the days went on, and -Ernestine almost broke her heart over her; but when she spoke to the -Grand-Duchess, she only wept, and said her husband was determined the -marriage should take place, and she dared not cross him. The climax -came at the time of the Mi-Carême Battle of Flowers. The Grand-Duke -and the lover insisted upon the poor girl’s going, though she had a -perfect terror of it, after the fright she got at the Carnival, where -Usk met her first. She fainted twice while she was dressing, and the -Grand-Duchess was alarmed at last, and sent for a doctor. Very -fortunately, the English doctor whom Ernestine had advised her to call -in was in the hotel at the moment, visiting Usk’s friend Nicholson, -who was his patient. He put an absolute veto on the girl’s going out -that day, and promised to come and examine her thoroughly in the -morning. They told him nothing of the circumstances, but after seeing -her he said there was some trouble pressing upon her mind, and if it -was not removed she would die of sheer terror. The Grand-Duke stormed, -but could not shake him, and as no one could pretend not to know what -the trouble was, Ivan Petrovitch was sent about his business. I should -imagine the Grand-Ducal family went through stormy times for a day or -two. The Grand-Duke is not a pleasant man to oppose, but if you have -to do it, it’s as well to do it with spirit. Félicia and he get on -excellently, because if she doesn’t like what he tells her to do, she -says so, and the matter is at an end. Well, the doctor continued his -visits, as the Grand-Duchess asked him, but he told Ernestine -privately that it was useless. There was no organic disease, but the -child did not seem to have any wish to live. She knew that her parents -quarrelled over her, I suppose, and had not the courage to assert -herself. She was quiet and fairly happy when once her engagement was -broken off, but she didn’t get better. And only just seventeen, -Nadia!” - -“Much too young to be thinking about engagements at all,” said Lady -Caerleon, decisively but not harshly. - -“Ah, well, her parents had put the thought into her mind, you see. -Then, three days ago, she had a dreadful shock. Usk’s friend Nicholson -had another attack of hæmorrhage, and died in the hotel. Ernestine -thought him very much softened lately, and he used to like her to read -to him. She was with him just before the end, and the Grand-Duchess -asked her not to go and see Helene that day, lest she should inquire -for him. She took an interest in him as an invalid, you see, and used -to send him some of the flowers which were sent her. That afternoon -the Grand-Duke came to our rooms in a terrible state of mind. The -Grand-Duchess’s maid had let out to Helene that Nicholson was dead, -and, somehow, it seemed to awaken the child to the fact that she -wasn’t very far from dying herself. It did not disturb her to realise -it, but the Grand-Duke complained that his wife and the other women -looked at him as if he was a murderer. He begged Ernestine to go and -see them, and even promised that anything she thought might be any -good should be done. Of course Ernestine went, and you can imagine the -state of things she found--the lady-in-waiting weeping in the _salon_, -the maid sobbing in the passage, and the Grand-Duchess herself in -Helene’s room in floods of tears. I suppose the poor girl thought she -had no time to lose, for without giving her mother any opportunity of -recovering from the first shock, she had asked for her jewels and -other little things, and was saying who she would like to have them. -She’s such a simple little soul that it didn’t occur to her she was -doing anything hackneyed--it was just the most natural thing in the -world to her. There were bracelets and so on for her sisters and -cousins, and some trifle for me, and then she touched a ring which she -always wears, which was given her at her confirmation, and said she -would like Usk to have it. Her mother was so much astonished that she -didn’t answer for a moment, and Helene said piteously, ‘You won’t mind -then, will you, mamma? I shall never see him again, you know.’ -Ernestine thought the Grand-Duchess had gone out of her mind, for she -got up suddenly and seized her by the arm and took her out of the -room. When the door was shut, she said, ‘That’s what the child wants! -You will help me. We will take her to the mountains at once, and she -shall marry your nephew instead of Ivan Petrovitch, and get well. -Come, let us tell her about it.’ Ernestine begged her to wait and -consult the Grand-Duke, but she absolutely refused. She went back into -Helene’s room, and swept all the jewels into their box again. -‘Nonsense, Lenchen!’ she said. ‘You are not going to die. This place -is too hot for you. We will go back to the mountains, to our own -Lauterbach, just you and I, and your aunt will come and stay with us.’ -Ernestine felt obliged to back her up by saying that as I could not -leave Nice just at present, she would ask Usk to come and escort her -to Lauterbach, and they would stay at the cottage close to the -Schloss, so that Helene might be quite quiet. She says she didn’t dare -to look at the child as she spoke, but she heard her whisper, ‘Then I -shall see him again, after all!’ and for the first time she felt there -was some hope.” - -“But the Grand-Duke!” cried Lord Caerleon. “What did he think about -it?” - -“Well, Ernestine and the Grand-Duchess very prudently came to our -rooms to have it out with him, lest Helene should be disturbed. Of -course he vowed he would never hear of such a thing, but for once his -wife seemed to have lost her fear of him. She told him plainly that -she would separate from him rather than let Helene die when she could -be saved; and as the money is nearly all hers, that brought him round. -At last he calmed down sufficiently to allow the doctor to be -consulted, and he was called in. He approved highly of the mountain -plan, and recommended very strongly that the girl’s inclination should -not be forced in any way. She was so sensitive, he said, that only a -man of a most sympathetic type could hope to make her happy. In -deference to the Grand-Duke’s feelings, his wife consented to leave -that part of the programme in abeyance, but they start for the -mountains to-morrow, and I should like to pack Usk off to join them, -if you have no objection.” - -“On what footing?” asked Lord Caerleon sharply. “I won’t have him -bandied about according to the state of the Grand-Duke’s temper.” - -“My dear Caerleon, haven’t you learnt yet that the honour--the -punctilio, I might say--of the family is safe with me? Usk will be -received as a suitor approved by the young lady’s parents, though he -will not be formally presented to her as such.” - -“Well,” said Lady Caerleon, “if I were in Princess Helene’s place, it -would not make me better to know that a young man was being brought to -marry me, quite irrespective of his own wishes.” - -“She knows nothing of the kind, and no one has suggested it to her. I -don’t pretend to say what may be passing in her mind, but I should -imagine she flatters herself that she regards him merely as a dear -friend. But I seem to be unfortunate in my advocacy, Nadia. Since my -words only prejudice you further against the poor little girl, I shall -be obliged to show you this, which I didn’t mean to bring out if I -could help it, for it’s not flattering.” - -He handed Lady Caerleon a photograph, which she took with a stern and -unbending aspect, but her look changed suddenly. - -“Oh, Cyril, what a sad little face!--and how very----” - -“Plain?” suggested Cyril, as she hesitated. “If you saw her, you -wouldn’t think so. It’s the expression that is wanting in the -photograph.” - -“She must have beautiful eyes and hair,” said Lady Caerleon slowly. -“But, Cyril, Carlino, think of the difference from Félicia! Do you -think Usk would ever care for her? And so badly dressed! I should like -to take her in hand.” - -“Come,” said Cyril, “this is a ray of hope. Now you realise that she -needs comforting and dressing, Nadia, you won’t steel your heart -against her for long.” - -“I don’t want to steel my heart against her, poor little thing! but -you don’t seem to see--I daresay it sounds very selfish, but you feel -it too, don’t you, Carlino?--when Phil is so far away, to have to give -up Usk too! I know I ought to be willing to do it, if it’s to help -some one, but for him to have to go and live in Germany--it would be -like losing him altogether.” - -“No, no, Nadia,” said her husband quickly, as she turned to him with -streaming eyes, “that’s out of the question. Usk has his duties here, -and he won’t give them up with my consent.” - -“You both seem to have the worst possible opinion of me,” lamented -Cyril. “Is it likely that I should deliberately arrange for Usk to -become a hanger-on at a petty German Court, where he wouldn’t even be -welcomed? No; the Grand-Duchess quite sees that her husband and her -daughter agree best at a distance. ‘The young people will live in -England, of course,’ she said to me, ‘but they must come and see me in -the mountains every year, and sometimes I will come and see them.’” - -“Is that Usk coming in?” cried Lady Caerleon, starting up. - -“Suppose you break the idea to him, Nadia, and see how he takes it,” -suggested Cyril. “No one wants to force him into anything, of course, -but I hardly see how he can do better. And you will manage it much -more artistically than I should, for with you I began by giving the -poor little girl away, which was the last thing I meant to do.” - -Lady Caerleon hurried into the house, and the brothers were left -together. - -“I hope Usk will be able to see his way to it,” said Cyril. “Ernestine -and I are quite foolish over this child Helene. Imagine my tearing -across Europe just to get her what she wants!” - -“I can’t understand even now how the Grand-Duke came to give in. One -has always heard that his views on unequal marriages were so very -strict.” - -“I’m going to give you a tip,” said Cyril. “You mustn’t allow that it -is unequal, on any account. Play the _grand seigneur anglais_ for all -you’re worth when you meet him. Be impassive, bored, contemptuously -tolerant of all you see, and let him know that you have much better at -home.” - -“Anything else?” - -“It’s perfectly true. None of the Grand-Duke’s palaces can hold a -candle to this house, and there’s no need to mention that you can’t -afford to live in it. And as for Llandiarmid, though Félicia was -pleased to turn up her pretty nose at it, it would make him miserably -discontented with all his country seats, even if he saw it as it is. -To German ears your rent-roll sounds magnificent, and the family -jewels are historic. I’m thankful you never parted with them--but they -are heirlooms, aren’t they? so it was not any virtue on your part. If -you have to come to Molzau--for the wedding--make Nadia wear the -emeralds, and have the pearls mounted afresh for Helene. That will -smooth your path wonderfully.” - -“If you exalt me much higher, I shall begin to think that it is Usk -who is making the _mésalliance_.” - -“Oh, the rest of the Schwarzwald-Molzau family will soon undeceive you -in that case. It’s the Grand-Duke’s bitterest pill that he has imbued -his children so thoroughly with his views that they will all look -askance at him now. The youngest son, Prince Franz, who married the -daughter of Félicia’s uncle, Don Florian, is the only one from whom -he can expect any sympathy. Princess Resi is _recht demokratisch_, I -understand.” - -“Nice to be received upon sufferance into a family where only the -Radicals will tolerate you!” - -“You must make allowance for the susceptibilities of young people who -have all married as they were told, and done excellently for -themselves. I don’t know whether they married for rank, but they have -certainly married where rank is. The Grand-Duke has always warned them -against the romantic taint which crops out in the family with such -curious persistency, and their feelings will naturally be hurt when it -turns out that the taint has reappeared and vanquished him in the -youngest and most timid of them all.” - -“And this taint is merely a disposition to marry for love, I suppose?” - -“Exactly; the sort of thing which can’t be allowed in a semi-royal -house. The men in whom it appeared have generally gone to the bad, I -believe, and the women become _dévotes_, after experiences which -proved how wise their family were in refusing to listen to their -wishes. It doesn’t seem to have struck the family that it would have -been cheaper, and saved a good deal of scandal, to allow the -delinquents to resign their rank, and settle down in private life with -the objects of their affections. Their domestic squabbles would have -served as awful warnings to the next generation. Perhaps that is the -secret of the Grand-Duke’s yielding now.” - -“Cyril!” Lord Caerleon turned and looked fixedly at his brother. “I -hope there’s no morganatic foolery about this business? That I won’t -stand.” - -“Certainly not. Our Plantagenet blood, which your Radical friends -think so lightly of except when they want you to push their Bills in -Parliament, has stood us in good stead here, as I have often found -before. But I own I never expected to be grateful for poor old -O’Malachy’s descent from Irish kings. It was a happy thought of his to -have that elaborate pedigree drawn out, though I believe it was the -only thing he had to leave Nadia at his death, wasn’t it? I must have -it copied to take back with me, though I remembered enough of it to -quiet the Grand-Duke’s apprehensions as to Usk’s mother’s possessing -the regulation number of quarterings. But it is a curious thing that -you, the most typical Englishman I know, should apparently be doomed -to associate with foreigners. You have a foreign wife, so have I, and -now everything is conspiring to provide you with a foreign -daughter-in-law.” - -Lord Caerleon growled impatiently. “It doesn’t seem to have struck any -one to ask how Usk and his wife are to live,” he said. “Has the -Princess any money?” - -“In Germany she is regarded as something of an heiress, and her -fortune undoubtedly looks rather imposing reckoned in marks. I should -say she would have about eight hundred a-year--pounds, I mean.” - -“Even with what I can give Usk, it’ll be precious little to support -such a lot of grandeur upon. They won’t have much margin.” - -“She is sure to be a good housekeeper. All German girls are. By the -bye, what about that new railway which was to pass Llandiarmid and -open up the hill district? Is it still on the _tapis_?” - -“Rather. But Nadia and I both felt that we ought not to run up the -price of the land, as the line is so much needed.” - -“You didn’t tell the Company that, I hope? Don’t, pray, feel that you -must love your neighbour better than yourself. Let them make the first -offer. You may be sure they won’t propose to give more than the land -is worth, but you certainly ought to get enough out of them to -increase Usk’s allowance to something a little more in accordance with -his position.” - - -In the meantime, Lady Caerleon had intercepted her son in the hall, -and drawn him aside into the library. - -“Your uncle is here, Usk, and he and your father are having a little -talk. Come in here. I--I want to speak to you.” - -“Anything wrong?” he asked in surprise. “Why, you’ve been crying, -mater! What is it?” - -“No, dear, there is nothing wrong. It was foolish of me to cry. I -ought to feel very glad and proud, after what I have just heard about -you.” - -“There’s little enough about me to make you either glad or proud, I’m -afraid,” he said bitterly. “But I’m glad you’re pleased, mater, -whatever it is.” - -“But I am not pleased!” cried Lady Caerleon. “At least, as I say, I -ought to be. But if it is to make you happy, I _will_ be pleased.” - -Usk changed colour. “Mother,” he said, almost breathlessly, “if it’s -any message about--anything from Félicia, it’s no good. I don’t want -to hear from her. I could never trust her again.” - -“No, no! It’s about the Princess Helene of Schwarzwald-Molzau. Her -engagement to the Scythian Prince is broken off.” - -“Is that all?” cried Usk. “What a start you gave me! And what in the -world has it to do with me?--though of course I’m glad for the poor -little girl’s own sake.” - -“Usk,” said his mother quickly, “had you any idea she cared for you?” - -“For me? Princess Helene? What an idea! Of course not.” - -“She has been very ill, and when she thought she was dying, she begged -that the ring she always wore might be given to you. And now--they -hope she will not die.” - -“I--I don’t think you ought to have told me this,” said Usk awkwardly. -He looked with a kind of reproach at his mother, who could not meet -his eyes. “You see,” he went on more firmly, “she’s such a nice little -girl that it’s a shame to say that sort of thing about her. She’s as -innocent as a baby, and it would get her into dreadful trouble with -her people if they thought it was true.” - -“It is true,” said Lady Caerleon desperately, “and your uncle would -like you to marry her. Could you care for her at all, Usk?” - -“No one could help caring for her, she’s such a gentle, friendly -little thing. But not in that way! Mater, say you’re joking.” - -“I wish I could, but everything is arranged in a way. They think she -is pining after you--no, I know it doesn’t sound kind to say it, Usk, -but what am I to say? You were kind to her, weren’t you? and she -misses you, and they say it would cheer her if you went and stayed -with your aunt near her, and saw her every day. It doesn’t sound much -to ask, but then it involves a good deal more.” - -“But why?” asked Usk quickly. “I shouldn’t a bit mind seeing her as -much as she liked, and--anything of that sort. Why shouldn’t it stop -there?” - -“I suppose people would talk--I don’t know. Besides, if she -really----” - -Usk stopped her. “Please don’t. It would make her so awfully miserable -if she knew things of that kind were being said about her. Feeling as -I do, I have no business to listen to it. If I cared for her, it might -be different.” - -“But couldn’t you? Do you never mean----” - -“To marry? I don’t know. Perhaps some day it will seem more possible -than it does now. Mother, think! If you knew how I loved and trusted -Félicia, you would know that I could never feel the same to any woman -again, never! If she had even broken it off at one wrench, it would -not be so bad; but she played me like a salmon, pretending to let me -go, and then drawing me back again, until every feeling of that sort -seems quite dried up.” - -“But you are young, Usk. You will get over it some day.” - -“Possibly. I don’t feel like it just yet.” - -“And a good girl--not one like Félicia----” - -“Do you realise what Félicia is--how beautiful?--‘witchlike’ Princess -Helene called it once, I remember. If she was looking at me, I should -know it, though I was at the other end of the room and there was a -crowd of people between,--I should feel it all over me, somehow. I -couldn’t feel like that for the little Princess. I should like to make -her happy, to take her away from her father and be kind to her, and -see her begin to assert herself, and hear the funny things she says, -but I couldn’t marry her on that, could I?” - -“But pity is akin to love.” - -“Mater, you’re weakening! You don’t mean to say you would wish it?” - -“I don’t wish it, but--I’m beginning to be afraid it may be your -duty.” - -“And then it’s all up, isn’t it? What a thing it is to have a mother -with a conscience!” - -“Don’t talk so hardly, Usk. I can’t help thinking how we should feel -if the poor girl died. You say you would not make it up with Félicia -if you could; don’t you think you may be called to make this -sacrifice?” - -“It’s not a sacrifice altogether,” admitted Usk. “I really do like -her, you know, but not in that way. The question is, is it fair to -Princess Helene herself? No; certainly it would not be such a -sacrifice as marrying one of the Jones girls,” he added with a laugh. - -“What, Gwladys or Myfanwy? My dear Usk!” - -“Why, mater, I had made up my mind to propose to one of them in due -time, simply because I thought you were so fond of them.” - -“As helpers in the parish, perhaps. But not to marry you.” - -“It’s just as well that we have had this explanation, then, for I -should certainly have done it.” - -“I am most thankful you haven’t. And Mr Jones--oh, Usk!” - -“Mater, I’m afraid you’re a very worldly woman.” - -“Am I? I hope not. But perhaps I am, though I don’t think there’s -anything wrong in preferring a Princess of Schwarzwald-Molzau to Miss -Jones. No, I’m afraid you’re right. I have always been so anxious -people should not think your father had done himself harm in marrying -me. It was pride, of course, because I used to hope you would both -make brilliant marriages. But I couldn’t wish Phil to have chosen -differently--though I wish she lived in England. But I should like you -to marry well, Usk.” - -“Then, on your own rule of conduct, I ought to go and propose to Miss -Jones at once, so as to mortify your pride, oughtn’t I?” - -“No, it would not be fair to Princess Helene. We have her to think of -too, you know.” Usk raised his eyebrows at this sophistry. “I--I -should like you to go back with your uncle, Usk.” - -“And propose immediately to the poor little girl?” - -“Oh no, that’s not necessary. Only go and be kind to her. You may find -that she doesn’t care for you, after all, or you may come to care for -her, in time.” - -“And in any case I shall be safe from your friends?” - -“Don’t, Usk. I only want to see you happy, you know that. Any woman -that can make you happy again will be welcome to me.” - -“Then the Princess Helene shall have the honour of trying the -experiment,” said Usk. - - - - - CHAPTER XV. - NOT LONG A-DOING. - -It was night when Usk arrived at Lauterbach. At the little station, -far down in the valley below, Queen Ernestine’s solemn Syrian -major-domo and several of the Schwarzwald-Molzau servants had met him -with horses and pack-mules, and they had ridden up and up all through -the hours of the spring evening. When they reached the tiny table-land -on which the Bergschloss stood, it was too dark to distinguish -anything but towering peaks on every hand shutting out the stars, with -a gleam of whiteness at one side, cast by the waterfall which filled -the air with such a tumult of sound that Usk wondered how the dwellers -on the plateau ever heard each other speak. He was to learn later that -those who were accustomed to the noise did not even hear it, and that -they could distinguish other sounds as though it had not been. Even -now Helene, lying awake in one of the turret-rooms of the Schloss, the -twinkling lights of which showed its position against the dark -mountains, heard the sound of the horses’ feet as they passed, and -said to herself, “He is come, then, at last!” But although Usk, as he -rode under the walls of the castle, wondered for a moment which was -Helene’s room, he thought no more of her that night after reaching the -smaller house, called Luisenruh, after its builder, the mother of the -present Grand-Duke, where his aunt was staying. Queen Ernestine had -much to ask him about his parents and his work in London, and he had -to tell her the various incidents of his journey, and as if by a tacit -understanding they held aloof from the delicate matter which had -brought him to Lauterbach. - -In the morning, however, he found that they were to join the -Grand-Duchess and her daughter at the Schloss for the late breakfast; -and he walked with the Queen through the gardens, which adjoined each -other so nearly that few people could have told where the grounds of -the cottage ended and those of the Schloss began, and learned from a -servant who was sent to meet them that the meal was served in the -Chinese pavilion. There were several of these summer-houses dotted -about in the gardens--a Greek temple, a hermitage, a Persian mosque, -an Arcadian shepherd’s hut, all absurdly incongruous in their -architecture as in their names, but affording pleasant retreats in hot -or wet weather, and fine views of the mountains and the waterfall at -all times. In the Chinese pavilion, which had a range of pointed roofs -one above another, with little bells hung at every possible extremity, -the visitors found the Grand-Duchess, whose nervousness was concealed -under a restless activity which would have been called bustling in a -lady of lower rank. Helene, very thin and bright-eyed, with a red spot -in either cheek, was propped up with pillows on a couch which -commanded the finest of the views. - -“What do you think of my mountains?” she demanded eagerly of Usk, as -soon as she had greeted him, and she smiled with pleasure over his -answer that they looked jolly. “You can’t know them properly by only -seeing them from this distance,” she went on. “I shall show you all my -own special views and paths, and all the things I used to discover.” - -“No mountain-climbing just yet, Lenchen!” said the Grand-Duchess. “You -are to walk a little every day as soon as you are rested from the -journey, you know, but it must be only about the gardens, where the -paths are level.” - -“Walking where the paths are level! Why, mamma, in a fortnight I shall -be bicycling again. We will keep the level paths for that. I want to -take Lord Usk up the mountains, and see all my friends.” - -But in spite of Helene’s eagerness for exertion, it was long before -she could attempt the mountains. Naturally enough, when the excitement -of returning to her favourite scenes, and of welcoming Usk, had -passed, she seemed to lose strength, and to the anxious eye of her -mother appeared actually worse than she had been at Nice. Almost in -desperation, the Grand-Duchess threw herself upon Usk for help, and -adopted him as the natural sharer of her anxieties with a calmness -that surprised him. - -“You must help me to save her,” she said. “Here are the doctor’s -directions, and I look to you to carry them out.” - -Somewhat amused though he was at being turned into a sick-nurse, Usk -accepted the position, which he found to be no sinecure, and which -made him feel by turns horribly cruel and a good deal of a fool. -Helene was to live almost entirely in the open air, it seemed, and to -take exercise at stated hours and for a fixed period of time. If she -grew tired too soon, it was his duty to pretend not to notice it, and -to talk to her as she walked until she forgot it too. Or if, as -sometimes happened, she was ready to wander on when the stated time -was over, he was obliged to induce her to rest, which could -occasionally only be done by pretending that he himself was tired. It -struck him once, when he was hurrying after his patient with a rug, -because she would not sit down anywhere but on the grass, that his -position was a good deal less romantic than might have been expected -from his conversation with his mother. Helene talked to him as -naturally as if he had been her brother, and he could not flatter -himself that her frank pleasure in his society, and her readiness to -turn to him for everything she wanted done, sprang from any stronger -feeling than pure friendliness. His uncle and the Grand-Duchess must -have been mistaken, he decided, and the fact produced in him curiously -mixed sensations. On the one hand, when Helene was better, nothing -more would be expected of him, and he could go his way in peace; but, -on the other, he felt that he had to some extent been fooled when he -was induced to screw himself up to the performance of a tremendous -exploit which now appeared quite unnecessary. But he grew genuinely -fond of Helene in a brotherly way, and was as proud as her mother when -she began to show unmistakable signs of returning health. When she -refused breakfast one day, and the Grand-Duchess only waited until she -was out of sight to weep, Usk showed no disappointment. His prescience -was rewarded in the course of the morning, when Helene confessed -suddenly that she was “so hungry,” and asked him to fetch her -something to eat. Then there was the day when for the first time an -expedition was undertaken beyond the grounds, and Helene proudly -introduced him to one of her friends, the wife of a goatherd who lived -on the mountain-side. The good woman set before her visitors a meal of -black bread and goats’ milk; and this simple fare, which Usk privately -thought very nasty, Helene ate and enjoyed, and the Grand-Duchess wept -again, but this time her tears were of joy. - -Now that Helene was sufficiently recovered to take longer walks, her -mother thought it advisable to consider the conventions once more. At -first she succeeded in putting a veto on any distant expeditions by -the plea that Helene would overtask her strength, but when Usk had -suggested taking a pony with them, on which she could ride when she -was tired, it was necessary to provide suitable companions. Neither -the Grand-Duchess nor the Queen were equal to the exertion involved, -but the former invited her youngest son and his wife to pay a visit to -Lauterbach. Prince Franz Immanuel had been educated in England, and -Usk and he had been contemporaries at Eton for some years, so that -they had many interests in common, while Princess Theresia, the -daughter of Félicia’s uncle, Don Florian of Arragon, was so fond of -things English that she was known at the Pannonian Court as the -Anglomaniac. To her the Grand-Duchess had divulged her scheme -concerning Usk and Helene as soon as it was formed, hoping to gain one -firm ally, and the event proved that her object had been attained. The -elder children of the Grand-Duchess, to whom the secret had not been -revealed, were already writing from their married homes to inquire -suspiciously why “that man Mortimer’s nephew” was being thrown so much -with Lenchen, and prophesying that complications would occur; but -Princess Resi was an ardent supporter of the match, and insisted that -her husband should share her views. He had been inclined at first to -adopt the natural Schwarzwald-Molzau attitude, and scout the idea of a -_mésalliance_; but he and his wife were a most devoted couple, and -she fairly talked him over. Plied all day and every day with arguments -in favour of love-matches, unequal marriages, unions in which the -parties were of different nationalities, and harassed by the -unreasonable conduct of Princess Resi, who insisted on taking any -opposition as a reflection on herself or her mother, whose admission -into the house of Albret-Arragon had only been secured by her immense -dowry, he yielded at last, and when they arrived at Lauterbach his -wife had him well in hand. He was further cheered by finding that Usk -showed no signs of undue elation, and that the intercourse between him -and Helene was of so free and brotherly a nature as to suggest that -the Grand-Duchess’s plan had miscarried. - -Prince Franz and his wife were ideal companions on the expeditions -Helene loved. Princess Resi’s Anglomania was of so pronounced a -character as to degenerate occasionally into caricature, especially in -the matter of the costumes she adopted for climbing; but she made it a -point of honour to do as much as her husband, and they followed Helene -uncomplainingly into all the nooks and corners of the mountains. So -tireless was Helene herself that Prince Franz unhesitatingly expressed -his opinion that she had never been ill at all, and that her ailments -had simply been assumed as an excuse for leaving Nice and returning to -her beloved Lauterbach, but his wife reproved him for this in private. -She understood from the Grand-Duchess, she said, that Helene’s -recovery was almost entirely due to Usk’s care of her, and the -firmness with which he had carried out the doctor’s orders, and if -things of that kind were said, he would think her friends grudged him -his fitting reward. Even now, said Princess Resi, she thought his -feelings must have been wounded in some way, for she took care that he -had an opportunity nearly every day of speaking to Helene, but it was -clear he had not done it yet. - -As for Usk, about this time he wrote to his mother alluding gloomily -to Miss Jones, without specifying which Miss Jones he meant, and -advised her to make up her mind to welcome that young lady into the -family after all. It is possible that he was influenced by an incident -from which he drew, perhaps, larger deductions than he should have -done. - -He was mounting the stairs which led to the morning-room at the -Schloss one day when he heard a sound as of paper being torn -violently, and then Prince Franz’s voice raised in protest. - -“What in the world are you doing, Lenchen? That paper is mine.” - -“Then you had no business to bring it here. It’s a shame!” The -stove-door clanged, and there was a sound of fire-irons. “As if I -would let it lie about for him to see! She must be wickeder than I -could ever have imagined it possible for a woman to be, to go and -break his heart----” - -Usk stood hesitating on the threshold as Helene, with a flushed face, -rose from her knees before the stove. It had not struck him at first -that he was one of the persons alluded to, but now the truth was -clear. It was something about Félicia that she had been unwilling for -him to see, and of late he had thought less and less about Félicia, -and might almost be said to have forgotten her. Helene read in his -face that he had heard and understood, but she misread the blankness -of his expression when he realised the change which had come over his -mind. - -“The new guide-book has come. Wouldn’t you like to look at it?” she -asked, beckoning him into the library. No sooner were they out of -earshot of Prince Franz than she turned to him with tears in her eyes. - -“I am so sorry,” she said. “I only wished to save you pain.” - -“You are very good,” said Usk, “but I don’t quite understand----” - -“Oh, it was a portrait of the Princess Félicia, and an interview with -her, in an American paper, and I knew it would bring it all back to -you--all the pain. If----if----” she hesitated--“if it would comfort -you at all to talk to me about her, please do. I am so very sorry for -you.” - -“I’m afraid it wouldn’t,” said Usk, feeling rather guilty. - -“I thought if you felt that it wasn’t her fault--that she was coerced -by her family--it might comfort you to say so.” - -“It was something much more vulgar than that--simply the desire for a -crown.” Usk spoke with momentary fierceness, born of recollection. - -“Ah, you are bitter. I do not wonder. You have borne it all in such -silence. I have felt for you, but I did not like to say anything, lest -you might be beginning to forget. I hoped you might still be able to -believe the best of her, for that is always a comfort, isn’t it?” - -“But you don’t,” objected Usk. - -“How could I, when she has made my friend suffer?” demanded Helene -passionately. “But I would if it would comfort you,” she added. - -“You are too kind,” said Usk, with sufficient moodiness to satisfy -her; and when he was alone he told himself again that he had been -brought here on a fool’s errand. When Helene sent him the ring, she -only meant to assure him of her sympathy under the treatment he had -met with from Félicia. - -Hence it was somewhat disconcerting to Usk when his uncle appeared -suddenly on the scene, for whereas he was quite satisfied to go on -from day to day enjoying the present and not troubling about the -future, it was only too probable that Cyril would look to hear -something definite. He met the party as they came down from the -mountains one evening, sunburnt and hungry after a long day’s -wandering. The two girls had decorated themselves and the pony with -wreaths of flowers, and even Prince Franz’s Tyrolese hat was -ornamented with a garland which he was forbidden to remove on pain of -his wife’s severe displeasure. Usk, in consideration of his -nationality, was allowed to escape with a buttonhole, which Helene had -made up for him with great care; and Princess Resi’s obedient husband -hinted that he would not mind being an Englishman too for once. - -“But this is treason, disloyalty!” cried Theresia. “How shall we -punish him, Lenchen? Oh, I know! If you say another word, Franz, we -will put a wreath round your neck as well. We have plenty of flowers -left.” - -“You have, indeed,” said a new voice, as Cyril came face to face with -them at a turn of the path. “Princess Helene might be posing as -Flora.” - -Helene smiled shyly from her high seat on the pony, where she was -holding the luncheon-basket heaped up with flowers, and offered him a -mountain-rose for his coat. - -“After this mark of favour, I think I ought to be allowed to lead the -pony,” said Cyril. “Usk, the Princess will dispense with your services -for the present.” - -Usk looked round in apprehension, fearing that his uncle had -misunderstood the state of affairs, but Helene spoke hastily, lest his -feelings might be hurt. - -“Oh, please, if you would not mind Lord Usk’s walking on the other -side,” she said anxiously to Cyril. “The pony knows him so well.” - -Cyril smiled, and allowed Usk to retain his position. “Surely there -can be no fear of the pony’s running away?” he said. “Even music seems -to have no effect upon him. I found my way to you by hearing your -singing far above me. I hope I did not put a stop to it?” - -“We were pretending to be peasants,” said Theresia, “but we had left -off singing before we met you, Count. We are getting so near the -castle, you see.” - -“Arcadian peasants, surely?” said Cyril, with an involuntary glance at -Prince Franz’s hat. “And is the Princess Helene sorry to leave the -upland meadows and the flowers, and come back to reality?” - -“Oh no; we are bringing the flowers with us, you see,” answered -Princess Resi for her. - -“Which things are an allegory,” said Cyril; but what he meant he did -not explain just then. He spent the evening at the Schloss with Queen -Ernestine and Usk, watching all that went on without seeming to do so, -and gaining a much clearer idea of the state of affairs than his -nephew gave him credit for possessing. When they returned to -Luisenruh, and the Queen had gone indoors, he suggested to Usk that -they should smoke in the garden, and Usk could not think of any -sufficient reason for declining. - -“Well?” said Cyril at last, when Usk had exhausted himself in the -endeavour to confine the conversation to general subjects. “Any news, -Usk? Have you settled anything?” - -Usk’s first impulse was to feign ignorance, but he knew it would be no -use. “With Princess Helene, do you mean?” he asked. “No; I haven’t -settled anything, because there’s nothing to settle. You were all -mistaken. She only cares for me just as she does for her brother.” - -“This is really very strange,” said Cyril gravely. “I should have -thought the girl’s own mother ought to know the state of her feelings, -but of course the girl herself must know it better. Do you say she -told you this plainly? In that case, surely you would have found it -better to leave at once? You have your father’s dignity to think of as -well as your own, you know.” - -“I’m afraid she might make herself ill again if I wasn’t here to look -after her,” explained Usk anxiously; and Cyril was seized with a -violent fit of coughing, due, he remarked, to something wrong with his -cigar. “But she didn’t tell me all this,” Usk added, with some -reluctance. “I saw it for myself.” - -“You mean you have never proposed to her yet? But you must, you know. -It will be merely a formality, of course, since you are aware what the -answer will be, and you can go away immediately afterwards.” - -“But,” objected Usk, “she might be afraid--of giving me pain----” - -“I’m afraid I don’t quite follow you. Oh, you mean she might accept -you for fear of hurting your feelings by refusing? That would put you -in a very awkward position, certainly. Your feelings have not changed, -I suppose?” - -“How could they?” was the tragic reply. “Félicia is still--nothing -can----” - -“Nothing can undo the fact of her intervention in your life, you mean? -Quite so. When you start with an absolute impossibility of that kind, -it simplifies matters, if only in the direction of cutting off one way -of escape. Otherwise I should have thought---- I may be at fault in -such a delicate matter, but if you were each prepared to marry out of -pure tenderness for the other’s feelings, it seems to put it on rather -a fair footing, doesn’t it?” - -“No doubt it all strikes you as awfully funny, but----” - -“My dear Usk, far from it! I fully appreciate the seriousness of a -situation in which it is equally difficult for you to propose or not -to propose, to be accepted or refused. I never remember coming across -anything quite like it before. If you see any way in which I can help -you, pray tell me. How you and Princess Helene are ever to learn each -other’s real sentiments while sparing each other’s feelings, I don’t -know. Unless, perhaps, you were to intimate that you intended to -serenade her one night, and I took your place, _à la_ Cyrano. But I -am getting rather old to play Romeo, and, besides, your aunt might -object.” - -Usk growled angrily but incoherently, then turned to his uncle. - -“Why you should think it funny I don’t know,” he said, with some -inconsistency. “I don’t. But what I want to know is, why should I -propose to her at all? Why not simply go away?” - -“But I thought her health would suffer? You don’t think so now? -Because you have been received here as a suitor accepted by her -parents, and it would be a blackguardly thing to do. It would be a -cruel slur on the lady herself, and a most undeserved insult to the -Grand-Duke and Duchess. Surely your father’s son is bound to be a -gentleman, Usk?” - -Even in the darkness Cyril was conscious of the start with which his -nephew flung up his head. “You don’t understand,” said Usk coldly. “I -am only anxious to do what is best for her. But think of it, Uncle -Cyril,” his tone changed suddenly; “she is such a child, so young. I -don’t believe she has ever thought of this kind of thing at all.” - -“Girls have a habit of growing into women very much more suddenly than -you would expect. At least you might try if she understands.” - -“I don’t like to disturb her. She has been so perfectly happy lately.” - -“My dear Usk, this idyllic life in meads of asphodel is very nice, but -it can’t last always. Little Helene must learn to come down into -reality like that pleasant sister-in-law of hers, and she will do it -with a much better grace than you think. She will bring the flowers -with her, as Princess Franz said, if only you will let her.” - -“But why not let things go on as they are? We might drift into an -understanding at last, without making such a fuss about it.” - -“Because the rest of the world is not standing still while you are -drifting. In plain English, we must begin to make arrangements for -Michael and Félicia’s wedding. Things are so far advanced that it’s -safe to go to work quietly. It is not expedient that they should be -married in Thracia, as they are both Protestants. They can’t be -married at Vindobona, for the same reason, and therefore Molzau, as -the seat of his family, is the natural place. Unless you have any -objection, I should prefer to get you out of the way first. You have -no particular wish to hang about at the ceremony, have you?” - -“I? No, indeed!” Usk shuddered. “Well, I’ll speak to her somehow, and -get something settled, but I shall always feel myself the biggest -blackguard on the face of the earth.” - - -All the next day Usk went about with a remorsefully resolute -expression, which was correctly interpreted not only by his uncle but -by Princess Theresia, who was sympathetically prepared to give him -every possible assistance. The wanderings of the four young people led -them that day into one of the most difficult parts of the mountains, -and about noon they left the pony at the hut of one of the -Grand-Duke’s gamekeepers, since it would only be an encumbrance in -their climb. The girls were very tired when they approached the hut -again in the evening, and, to her husband’s alarm, Princess Resi -seemed even more exhausted than her sister-in-law. She hung heavily on -his arm, and walked so slowly that Usk and Helene were soon out of -sight in front. - -“You are much more tired than Lenchen,” said Prince Franz. “You must -ride instead of her, or at least you must take turns.” - -“I won’t! Why, it would spoil everything. No, you are not to shout to -them, Franz. I won’t have you interrupt them.” Then, as he looked at -her in astonishment, “He has been making up his mind to do it all day, -and he shall have his chance.” - -“To speak to Helene, do you mean? Well, I hope you see now that even -an Englishman feels a little diffidence in the presence of a daughter -of Schwarzwald-Molzau?” - -“Because he has taken so long about it, you mean? Franz, it does -surprise me to see how foolish even a rather nice man, such as -yourself, can be!” - -“At least I’m not too dull to see that your fatigue has suddenly -disappeared in the heat of argument.” - -“Ah, you only _see_. I _know_, and I know just what his feelings are.” - -Prince Franz received this assurance with a shout of laughter, but he -consented to lag behind with his wife. Usk and Helene had not noticed -their considerate conduct, however. Helene was keeping up bravely, in -spite of her fatigue, laying plans for fresh expeditions, and -wondering why her companion received them in such a half-hearted way. -He did not seem to be listening, she thought, and at last he broke -into one of her sentences. - -“Take my hand here, won’t you? It’s a stiff bit.” Then a few moments -of silence, and he spoke again suddenly. “I’m afraid I shan’t be here -much longer. My uncle was saying last night that I ought to be off.” - -This was the plan Usk had devised, after much cogitation, for breaking -the ice, and preparing Helene for the proposal which was bound to be -so startling to her, but its immediate effect alarmed him. He felt her -stumble, and a shiver ran through the arm which was passed through -his. Presently she said wearily-- - -“I am so tired--so terribly tired. Do you think you could leave me -here, and fetch the pony from the hut? I feel as if I could not walk -any farther.” - -Much perplexed, and wondering guiltily whether his announcement was to -blame for this sudden exhaustion, Usk sought out a large stone by the -wayside. - -“Of course. Sit here, and I will bring the pony to you in a minute. -What an idiot I was not to see that we were going too far for you! But -you will catch cold.” - -He felt in the inner pocket of his jacket for the warm scarf his -mother had placed there, adjuring him always to wear it in the -mountains, and wrapped it round Helene’s neck, tucking the ends into -her coat and buttoning it. She pushed his hands away. - -“Oh, don’t! I can’t bear it!” she cried, then added hastily, “I shall -be too hot, I mean.” - -“I am a brute!” thought Usk, lingering near her, but she bade him go -with a gesture which aroused in him something of indignation. Helene -to treat him in this way! Then he realised the truth of his uncle’s -words. She was a woman, after all. - -Usk made short work of the climb to the gamekeeper’s hut, and himself -helped to saddle the pony. Helene had not been alone five minutes when -the clatter of hoofs on the stones announced his return. She began to -apologise for her rudeness in a gentle, tired voice from which all -ring of happiness had departed, but he seemed to have no time to -listen to her. He had her mounted and well on the homeward way before -he would speak, in his new-born terror lest Prince and Princess Franz -should come up and interrupt them. - -“I want to ask your advice, Princess,” he began. “I am in trouble--in -a difficulty.” - -“Oh, if I could help you,” she said, with a quick return of pleasure. - -“It’s about a man who--whom I know. He can’t make up his mind what to -do. May I tell you about him?” She gave him a breathless permission, -and he went on. “This man was in love with a girl, awfully lovely and -all that, and she--jilted him for some one else. Then he met another -girl, and got very fond of her, but he felt that he never could love -any one again as he had loved the first girl. And it seemed to him -that it wasn’t fair to ask the second girl to love him when he -couldn’t care for her as he ought. I can’t tell you exactly how he -felt about it----” - -“Perhaps I can,” she said. “The first girl was so beautiful that she -had only to command, and it was a joy to him to obey. She seemed to -know the right thing to be done, as if she had been a prophetess, and -the second girl was only a poor little thing to whom he had been kind. -She could not advise him, and he would never think of asking her for -advice. But because he had been kind to her, he pitied her, and cared -for her in a sort of way----” her voice thrilled with pain. - -“No, no!” cried Usk. “It’s not that. He really is awfully fond of her, -but he can’t feel that it would be fair to ask her to marry him when -he doesn’t love her as he did the first girl.” - -“He adored the first, and the other he is only--fond of?” said Helene. -“I think the second girl should be asked whether that is enough for -her.” - -“Is it, Lenchen?” He looked up at her as he walked beside the pony. - -“One thing I must know first,” she said hastily. “See, she comes to -you again, the Princess Félicia, and holds out her hands. She says, -‘I am free. I hardened my heart against you for the sake of a crown, -but I find that I cannot live without you. I have always loved you -best, and I have broken loose and come back to you. Take me.’ And you -would, would you not?” - -“Rather not!” cried Usk. “She has broken me of that kind of thing. I -should only want to know what she expected to gain by it.” - -“You.” - -“But that’s not enough for her. She despises me, you see. And I come -and offer you what she despises. Do you wonder I’m ashamed?” - -“And I accept it,” said Helene. “Does it seem to you very -poor-spirited to be content with what you offer me? Perhaps it is, -but--I can’t do without you. All my strength seems to forsake me when -you are away. The day you left Nice, when we met you on your way to -the station, I was praying--oh, so earnestly!--that the good God would -change your mind, and make you decide to stay. It would have been a -miracle, you say? But why not? I knew I could not hold out against my -parents and Ivan Petrovitch if you were gone. But you went away, and I -seemed to have no power to resist. I allowed papa to tell Ivan -Petrovitch that I would marry him, and I prayed that I might die soon, -before the day could come. Do you wonder, then, that I am content now? -But listen to me, please.” She laid her hand on his shoulder as he -walked beside her. “I am glad you have told me all your feelings, -because it relieves me from one of my fears, at least. I am content, -but I am not satisfied. I shall not be satisfied until you can tell me -from your heart that you love me best.” - -“But really, you know,” protested Usk, “it’s simply that I can’t help -knowing that if I had to live the time over again since last August I -should do exactly the same--as regards Félicia, I mean.” - -“I know--and I want you to be able to say, ‘If I had known Helene -then, I should have loved her best.’ It sounds impossible, does it -not? and you are honest; you will not say it does not. But let me try. -Do not steel your heart against me, that is all I ask. You promise, -then?” as Usk took her hand and pressed his lips to it. “And you will -say nothing of this to any one? It is our secret, yours and mine.” - -“I feel as if every one ought to know how wretchedly, miserably -ashamed I feel beside you,” he muttered. - -“So? I would have liked you to feel proud--and just a little pleased,” -and Helene smiled at him with trembling lips. Usk looked at her as if -he hardly realised the meaning of her words, then his strained -expression relaxed, and he smiled too. - -“This part of the path is rather steep. I think I ought to hold you on -the pony,” he said, and did so. - -“There’s one thing I want to ask you,” said Helene presently. - -“To the half of my kingdom, such as it is! Only let me hear it.” - -“You have a Christian name, haven’t you? I want to have a name for you -that other people don’t use--not to have to call you after a place, -like a king in Shakespeare. Do you think Cordelia called her husband -‘France’?” - -“My Christian name is Edmund,” said Usk gravely. - -“Oh, and Edmund in ‘King Lear’ is so horrible! I couldn’t call you -that.” - -“I’m sorry. It’s a family name, you see. But as you’re such a -Shakespearean scholar, have you ever read ‘Henry V.’?” - -“I don’t think so. No; I’m sure I haven’t. But I will, as soon as I -get home.” - -“Oh no; you needn’t,” hastily. “There’s a fellow in that called Nym--a -delightful person--and Nym was short for Edmund, you know. That’s a -name you can have quite to yourself, if you like it.” - -“Yes; I like it. But I shall only use it when we are alone, lest other -people should find it out. Nym!--I believe it is the name of a horrid -person after all,” as Usk smiled involuntarily. “Then I shall call you -by it all the same, just to punish you. Well, Nym, do you still think -you must go away soon?” - -“Not without you. I shall want you to help me with my election when I -get back to England. I’m sure I could never get through it alone.” - -“Oh, do you mean that I may help you--really help you--in your -parliamentary work? What may I do? I know so little.” - -“Oh, you can help me with my speeches--look up references, and that -sort of thing,” said Usk vaguely. “And you could canvass, of course.” - -“Canvass? But that is to ask people to vote for you, is it not? And -the English great ladies allow the voters to kiss them, don’t they?” - -“_You_ had better not, unless you want me to fight the voters all -round. No; the way of going to work nowadays is to get at the -electors’ wives, and make them promise to influence their husbands.” - -“I see. I am to say to them, ‘You must tell your husband to vote for -mine, because I am the person who knows best, and I can assure you how -good he is.’” - -“You are nothing but a child after all,” laughed Usk. “And a few -minutes ago I thought you had turned into a woman who was quite a -stranger to me.” - -“A child for you to love, and a woman to love you,” said Helene, very -low. - - - - - CHAPTER XVI. - BEYOND RECALL. - -“Oh, Nym, I am so frightened!” - -“Why? About what your father will say, do you mean?” - -“No; it’s something I have done.” - -“What wickedness have you been up to now? An infant like you!--aren’t -you ashamed of yourself?” - -“Not exactly ashamed,” said Helene seriously, “but terrified.” - -“Hadn’t you better confess? My mind is duly prepared for horrors.” - -“If you’ll call me Little Nell, I will.” - -“Little schemer, I think. Well, Little Nell?” - -Helene put her hand through his arm, and clasped his wrist tightly. -“It seemed such a splendid idea when it came to me first. It was the -very evening that we were--engaged, you know, and I was so happy I -could not sleep, and rather frightened, too, because mamma had been -sitting by me and crying, and saying all the relations would be so -angry. Then I remembered that the Emperor Sigismund was hunting near -Neuburg this week, and I thought I would write to him, and get him on -our side. And I did.” - -“How frightfully enterprising! And what does he say?” - -“There hasn’t been time for an answer yet. But last night it seemed to -me that it would have been so much better not to write to him -until--until everything was over, you know. And the answer might come -to-day, if he wrote at once. And I am so frightened. I don’t know what -to do.” - -“It strikes me you’re much too independent for an engaged young woman. -You deserve a good scolding. Why didn’t you say anything to me?” - -“I thought it would be such a nice surprise. I never imagined he might -be angry, somehow. Please scold me, Nym. Then perhaps I shall not be -so frightened.” - -“I don’t think there’s much need for me to scold you,” said Usk -gravely, rising to look down the path which led to the Lauterbach -plateau from the lower world. He and Helene were sitting on the roof -of the Moorish kiosk which was one of the less bizarre erections -scattered about the gardens, and commanded one of the widest views. -“There are people coming up, Lenchen, and one of them looks like----” - -“Not cousin Sigismund himself? Oh, Nym!” She was white and trembling, -and her hands gripped his arm convulsively. “Can’t we escape?” - -“Where to? Why, Nell, what is there to be afraid of? He can’t eat -you.” - -“But if he should want to send you away? He shan’t, he shan’t! If he -does, I will go too. You won’t give me up, Nym?” - -“You silly child! I shan’t be asked. They’ll want you to give me up.” - -“Then we are quite safe, for I won’t.” - -“He’s looking this way; he’s seen you, Nell. Wave your hand and don’t -be frightened. We’ve done nothing to be ashamed of.” - -“Of course not. I’m not ashamed. Oh, Nym, he is telling the rest to -ride on. He is dismounting and coming up here. What shall we do? Let -us go down--quick!” - -“Remember that you’ll have to ask if you may present me,” said Usk -hurriedly as he followed her down the outside stair. At the foot he -waited, expecting Helene to go forward alone to greet the soldierly -man in hunting costume and Tyrolese hat who had just mounted the knoll -on which the summer-house stood, but she caught his arm and dragged -him forward with her. - -“Oh, cousin Sigismund, please--this is Usk!” - -A more informal presentation there could not have been, and the -Emperor, finding his hand forced, looked almost embarrassed and -decidedly annoyed. He acknowledged Usk’s presence coldly, greeted -Helene with paternal kindness, and sat down on the piazza of the -summer-house, motioning her to a seat beside him; but she preferred to -stand, still gripping Usk’s arm as though to hold him fast. - -“I don’t think your friend will run away, Lenchen,” said the Emperor, -with an involuntary smile, as he glanced at the two culprits before -him; and Helene laughed nervously as she released Usk’s arm, still -retaining her hold of his hand, however. Her eyes sought her cousin’s -face anxiously. - -“I suppose you know you are a very fortunate young man?” said the -Emperor abruptly to Usk; and both hearers felt that it was not at all -what he had intended to say. - -“Most fortunate, sir.” Usk squeezed Helene’s hand reassuringly. - -“Have you any explanation to offer of your pres----” Usk felt that -Helene darted a look of angry reproach at the questioner--“of the -ambition which has led you to seek an alliance with the house of -Schwarzwald-Molzau?” - -“I can’t say it was exactly ambition, sir. I--I love the Princess----” - -“I love him,” interrupted Helene calmly. - -The Emperor frowned. “My dear cousin, as a favour to me, allow Lord -Usk to answer for himself. Do you intend to seek a career in Germany, -Lord Usk? You hold a commission in the British army, I believe?” - -“Only in the Yeomanry, sir. If I might speak freely to your -Majesty----” - -“By all means. That is what I desire.” - -“I have no wish to live anywhere but in England, sir. I am my father’s -only son, and have many ties at home. I hope to enter Parliament -before long, and devote myself to a political career.” - -“And we shall live in a tall, narrow black house in a square, and I -shall drive him to the House of Commons every evening, and sit up and -look out quotations for his speeches until he comes back,” said Helene -ecstatically. - -“At least you have not idealised the prospect!” said the Emperor drily -to Usk, then turned to Helene. “My dear little cousin, might I ask you -to be so very kind as to go and tell your mother of my arrival? You -will do me this favour, won’t you?” - -“If you command me as Emperor, I suppose I must,” said Helene -undauntedly, though Usk could feel that she was shaking; “but for -anything short of that I can’t--I mean, I won’t go.” - -“Really we could talk business much better,” said Usk, aghast, and at -his wits’ end to know how to act and speak without either offending -the Emperor or wounding Helene’s feelings. She looked at him with high -disdain. - -“The Emperor wishes to get rid of me that he may say things to you -which will make you give me up, but he shall say them before me, or -not at all.” - -“As you will, little cousin,” said the Emperor carelessly. Then he -turned suddenly a penetrating gaze on Usk. “What part does this -intended marriage of yours play in the plans of your uncle Count -Mortimer? If there is any question of a revival of your father’s -preposterous claim to the throne of Thracia, understand that it will -not be permitted. The unbridled ambition of you Mortimers has already -endangered the peace of Europe too often.” - -This time it was Usk who could not help smiling. “If your Majesty knew -my father, you would see how strange it sounds to hear you speak of -unbridled ambition in connection with him. He went to Thracia against -his will, led on by circumstances, and left it with the most intense -pleasure. He would do anything rather than go back there or allow me -to go.” - -“You will find it more generally accepted that your father’s ambition -failed him at a critical moment. He aspired to enter the ranks of -reigning sovereigns without submitting to their limitations, and -preferred a marriage of affection to one arranged for state reasons. I -am only doing honour to the foresight of that most accomplished -statesman, Count Mortimer, when I say that if the marriage he -projected for his brother with the lady who is now the Dowager -Princess of Dardania had taken place, we should probably have had a -Mortimer dynasty firmly established in Thracia to-day, and the Balkans -would be less of a menace to European peace. But your father withdrew -from Thracia, and neither he nor his son will be allowed to return -there.” - -“May I remind your Majesty that my uncle has devoted his life to the -work of strengthening the throne of the present King of Thracia?” - -“I do not presume to fathom your uncle’s plans. But I see that he has -reappeared on the political stage after the check he received in the -Scythian occupation of Jerusalem, and I augur badly from that.” - -“Indeed, sir, he is visiting Europe purely on King Michael’s account.” - -“And yet I know him to be at this moment the centre of a widely -extended conspiracy, the object of which is to establish him as ruler -of Palestine. You would have me believe that he contrives to ally -himself with half the reigning houses of Europe in a fit of absence of -mind, as you English like it to be thought that you built up a -world-empire? No; if Count Mortimer really wished only to set the -affairs of Thracia in order, and return as a private person to his -retreat in the desert, his judgment is at fault. He should have -married his stepson to the Princess Helene, and you to the American -heiress, leaving her in her original obscurity until the wedding was -over.” - -“But I would never have married Michael!” cried Helene, in dismay. - -“You would if Count Mortimer had wished you to do so, much as you are -now marrying his nephew, my dear Lenchen,” was the reply. Helene was -about to make an angry answer, but Usk stopped her. - -“It is not for me to defend my uncle,” he said hesitatingly, “but if -your Majesty would grant him even a short interview, I think he would -be able to convince you of the honesty of his intentions.” - -“Count Mortimer is as yet scarcely in a position that would entitle -him to ask for an interview,” was the reply, “and in view of the -propaganda he is carrying on, I must decline to receive him in -audience. My Chancellor would no doubt be interested in his plans if -he cared to impart them to him. I can quite believe that you have the -fullest belief in your uncle,” this as Usk was digesting the snub as -best he might, “but it is merely another proof of his astuteness. If -you have any regard for his safety, you might warn him that to persist -in his present course will be dangerous in the extreme. He is too much -of a firebrand to be left at large in Europe, and if I feel this, what -must be the sensations of those whose policy he is deliberately -opposing? He will do well to bury himself in the desert again as soon -as possible. This morning I should have advised him also to give up -all hope of the ambitious alliance he has devised for you, but -provided that you and your father refuse to allow yourselves to be -drawn into his schemes----” the Emperor paused. - -“Oh, you are going to be kind? You will take our part?” gasped Helene. - -“Certainly not. I cannot bestow my approval on such marriages as this, -but in the circumstance, and especially if Count Mortimer leaves -Europe immediately, I will not oppose it.” - -“The Princess Helene and I are most grateful to you, sir,” said Usk, -wondering that Helene did not speak. But as the Emperor rose to meet -her mother, who had heard of his arrival and come to look for him, she -pressed her lover’s arm. - -“You do believe that I love you, Nym? Even if we have to part, you -will never let anything keep you from believing that?” and her face -was pale and anxious again. - -“Why, of course not!” said Usk. “But what should part us now?” - - -It happened that Queen Ernestine was spending the morning at the -Schloss, and when the Grand-Duchess brought in the Emperor she was -unable to escape, much to her disgust. The Emperor was very glad to -meet her, and anxious to talk to her about King Michael’s marriage, -but he was careful only to allude to Cyril as if he were still a -trusted minister of state. The Queen had far too much _savoir faire_ -to expose herself to such a rebuff as Usk had incurred, but it was -gall and wormwood to her that her husband’s existence should be thus -pointedly ignored. Her cousin had played a prominent part in bringing -about her unhappy first marriage, and this still rankled in her mind, -so that the time seemed interminable to her which she spent in -answering his questions and receiving his suggestions. The Emperor -departed after lunch, and she returned quickly to Luisenruh, where -Cyril came out to greet her with a smile. - -“Well, Ernestine, so you have had a visitor? The excursions and alarms -penetrated even to my quiet retreat here. Was he in a good temper?” - -“I think so--for him. He won’t object to Usk’s marrying Helene, though -he doesn’t approve of it, and I am thankful for that. And he approves -of all that has been arranged about Michael--thinks that Molzau is -quite the best place for the wedding, and that your idea of getting my -aunt Amalie to escort Félicia to meet her father’s people is -excellent. But, Cyril----” - -“I thought there was something behind. What is it?” - -“I don’t think he wants you to be at the wedding.” - -“Is that all? I never thought of being there. The apple of discord -would be nothing to me. The party would scarcely separate without -bloodshed.” - -“Then I shall certainly not go either.” - -“My dear Ernestine, you must. How could you, Michael’s own mother, and -on excellent terms with him, be absent? Without me you will have no -difficulties about precedence. Do you think I could stand your -reducing yourself to a Countess, as I know you would do when you saw -me relegated to my proper place? You must think of Michael’s feelings -a little.” - -“I shall speak to Michael. He can’t be so ungrateful as to let you be -slighted after all you have done for him.” - -“What can Michael do when he comes in conflict with the unbending laws -of etiquette? No, Ernestine, listen; I have it all nicely mapped out. -We shall both be at Helene’s wedding, at any rate; we won’t let them -do me out of that. Then we will pick up your aunt Amalie and run down -to Nice again, and see Félicia safely into the hands of her father’s -family. You will return to Molzau for the wedding, and I shall go on -to Thracia. Michael and Mirkovics have give me _carte blanche_ as to -reorganising the government offices, so as to prevent corruption in -future, and you will join me at Bellaviste. Then we shall be ready to -welcome Michael and Félicia, and as soon as they have settled down we -will take our leave and be off to Sitt Zeynab, and spend a quiet old -age dispensing justice to the Arabs under our own palm-trees.” - -“But I would rather not wait for that until after the wedding. I -should like to go back at once, Cyril--at once, this very day.” - -“I’m afraid we can’t annihilate time and space quite to that extent. -But I suppose this means that the Emperor has been saying unpleasant -things? I have had Helene here, drowned in tears, and offering to give -up Usk if his marrying her would really bring me into danger. What -does the man mean by trying to frighten two women? Why not say what he -has to say to me?” - -“He told me distinctly that you were in danger as long as you remained -in Europe and persisted in your schemes. Poor little Lenchen must have -heard the same.” - -“Probably. If we were punished as severely for our evil deeds as for -our good ones, we should come off pretty badly, shouldn’t we, -Ernestine? I’m sure the best thing I ever did in my life was when I -threw myself on your mercy and induced you to marry me, and I’m -tolerably certain the next best was bringing Usk and Helene together, -and yet it’s just those two things these people can’t forgive me.” - -“But must you stay, Cyril? Do let us go.” - -“Before we have seen the young people made happy? No, no; we’ll see -the thing through after having so much to do with it.” - -“Well, then, as soon as Michael’s wedding is over, you can meet me at -Trieste, and we will leave for Beyrout at once. Why should you run -into danger for the sake of Prince Malasorte?” - -“It’s not that. I failed my friends when they trusted me, and now that -they have thrown in their lot with Malasorte, I won’t spoil their -plans a second time, as I should do if I left Europe before he brings -off his _coup d’état_. They trust him, and I don’t, but if I can help -them a bit by getting public suspicion concentrated on me instead of -him, I will. And that’s my last word, Ernestine.” - - -With a couple of weddings approaching, there was no time to lose, and -the Schwarzwald-Molzau family were most anxious to get the less -important of the two over, and be able to devote themselves to the -preparations for the gorgeous state ceremonial which would mark the -marriage of King Michael. Hence Usk made a hasty business journey to -England very shortly after the Emperor’s visit, and when he returned -it was in company with his parents, who were duly installed by the -Grand-Duke, not with the best possible grace, in a wing of the great -Schloss at Molzau. The transaction with the Aberkerran and Western -Hills Railway Company, to which Cyril had alluded, proved, when -carried out on the lines he suggested, highly beneficial to Lord -Caerleon’s exchequer; and he was able to leave on the minds of the -Molzau people an impression of sober magnificence which checked any -misgivings as to the match their little Princess was making. Quite -unintentionally, Lord Caerleon also produced a distinct impression on -the Grand-Duke, who revenged himself afterwards by alluding to him as -“the stone image,” but at the time actually asked Cyril whether his -brother would like to be received with the honours due to an -ex-sovereign, purely as a compliment, of course, and without prejudice -to King Michael’s rights. Cyril declined the offer on Caerleon’s -behalf, but he derived a good deal of amusement as well as relief from -the fact that his brother could overawe the irascible Grand-Duke to -such an extent that the occasion was not marked by a single burst of -temper. The wedding was very quiet. Princess Theresia induced her -mother to be present, and that amiable lady, who was always at her -daughter’s beck and call, shed the lustre of her historic jewels on -the ceremony, but Europe as a whole turned its head away and refused -to be aware of what was taking place. When the wedding was over, the -bride and bridegroom, with what Usk regarded as a preposterous retinue -of servants, and Helene as the lowest number with which it would be -respectable to travel, betook themselves to the Lebanon, where they -were to meet Philippa and her husband, who had been prevented from -coming to the wedding by the authoritative claims of a son and heir -only a month old. The Grand-Duchess, who had maintained for the past -three months a defiant attitude towards circumstances irresistibly -suggestive of a ruffled hen defending its brood, bewailed the loss of -Helene with floods of tears to Lady Caerleon, Queen Ernestine, -Princess Florian, and Princess Resi by turns, and then settled down to -her usual duty of acting as a buffer between her husband and his -surroundings. Lord and Lady Caerleon returned to England, and Cyril -and his wife journeyed back to Nice, in company with Princess Amalie -of Weldart, the Queen’s aunt, who disapproved highly of Helene’s -marriage, but had not been able to bring herself to stay away from the -wedding. - -Félicia was now very near the realisation of her hopes. Princess -Amalie, who was her great-aunt, was to take charge of her at Nice and -deliver her over to Don Ramon of Arragon, who was to await her with -his family at the Pannonian seaport close to which her father’s youth -had been passed. Her position was now recognised in the Court circle, -and after the reception by her uncle it would be made evident to the -world. With considerate regard for the endurance both of Félicia and -her new-found relatives, it had been arranged that her marriage with -King Michael was to follow as soon as the long journey from the coast -to Molzau would allow, and this visit to Nice was for her a delightful -whirl of congenial toils. Dresses, jewellery, furs, decorations and -furniture for the palace at Bellaviste, servants’ liveries, the exact -constitution of her court, all these things had to be thought of, -discussed, decided upon. King Michael was determined to spare no pains -nor expense in gratifying the wishes of his bride; and it was well -that Félicia had the good taste and loving advice of the Baroness -Radnika at hand, and also the wide experience of Mr Hicks, whose -sarcastic humour restrained her from not a few follies. Revelling in -the interest she excited, for her story had long since leaked out, she -was absolutely busy and perfectly happy, save for one shadow of a -cloud in her sky. - -“Maimie,” she exclaimed incredulously, as they were looking through -the letters and papers that awaited them on their arrival at Nice. -“Come and look here--right now. Usk is married!” - -“Well, I guess he hasn’t wasted much time lamenting you,” said Maimie. - -“It’s to the Grand-Duke’s daughter, the little pale girl--and they -haven’t ever told us!” - -“Why, you know every one said she must be in love with some other man -when she was engaged to the Scythian Prince and looked so miserable. -Of course it was Usk, and now Count Mortimer has had him marry her.” - -“He’ll be real good to her,” said Félicia slowly. - -“What’s that to you, any way?” was the sharp response. - -“Oh, I don’t know. Say, Maimie, is the ‘chapel attached to the -Grand-Ducal Palace at Molzau’ the same as the Schlosskirche where I’m -to be married? No bridesmaids, of course--I do hate that. I always -meant to design the cunningest costumes for my bridesmaids. ‘The -Marchioness of Caerleon was gowned in panne of an exquisite shade of -heliotrope, with the famous family emeralds’--guess she looked just -elegant, don’t you? ‘Her Royal Highness Princess Florian of Arragon in -_gris argent_ brocade, the corsage almost covered with the magnificent -Mohacsy diamonds,’ ‘the Princess Franz Immanuel of -Schwarzwald-Molzau’--that’s my cousin Resi, of course--‘in pink satin -and pearls.’ What did the Grand-Duchess wear, I’d like to know? -Crimson velvet, I guess. ‘The bride’s travelling-dress was trimmed -with exquisite Eastern embroidery, sent from Palestine by the -bridegroom’s sister, Lady Philippa Mansfield.’ Did Phil mean that for -me when she bought it, do you think, Maimie? But there don’t seem to -be much to say about her wedding-gown--just that she wore the Caerleon -pearls. I guess I shall go one better in gowns, any way.” - -“I just know you will,” responded Maimie. “Why, you’ll be a queen, -Fay.” - -“That is so.” Félicia’s tone sounded a little wistful. “I can’t seem -to feel real happy, Maimie. It’ll be you and me one side, and Michael -the other, all the time. Being queen will be just elegant, but---- -Michael’s awfully in love with me, but I don’t trust him, and he don’t -trust me.” - -“And Usk you did trust,” cried Maimie, much alarmed by the turn the -conversation was taking, “and he marries another girl right away, -before you’re married yourself, even. Don’t you see the way it is, -Fay? It’s just that he won’t look as if he had been jilted--just -pride, and not anything more. He don’t care a red cent for this other -girl, but he’s set on making you mad. I wouldn’t have him do it.” - -“No, I don’t feel mad, only a little sorry. And not real sorry, -either, for I wouldn’t go way back now. It’s just that it’s the end, -Maimie.” - -“That’s so, and I’m real glad of it, for you won’t ever be able to -reproach yourself about Usk again. And as to Michael, don’t be afraid. -We’ll fix him up some way. You and I will have some place just all to -ourselves, so’s we can forget all of the stuff the Baroness has been -teaching us, and have a good time together, chewing gum and talking -the way we choose, and no other person shall come in there.” - -“And you don’t hate turning into a hired girl?” asked Félicia, rather -doubtfully. - -“Not a cent, so long as you are queen. I’d as lief be hired girl as -not, so’s I can fix it that I wait on you. They won’t turn you into a -statue while I’m around.” - -It was only when she was alone with Félicia that Maimie ventured to -speak thus freely nowadays. She had fallen quite naturally into the -position of her friend’s confidential lady-in-waiting, and had -profited by the teachings of Baroness Radnika a good deal more readily -than Félicia herself. Her influence was invaluable, said the -Baroness, and no one dreamed of the absolute equality to which the two -girls returned when they were unobserved. When Princess Amalie -arrived, she took a great fancy to Maimie. Félicia was just a little -difficult to manage sometimes, she admitted, “but that good creature -Logan” could nearly always persuade her to see reason. Princess Amalie -was a cheerful old lady, whose temper did not seem to have been soured -by the fact that her lack of beauty had driven her family to provide -for her by making her a canoness. The semi-conventual title ensured -her a position of independence, a sufficient income, and a home at the -Stift, or Institution, whenever she was not visiting her relations, -which was very seldom, for she made up for not possessing a family of -her own by taking the keenest interest in the affairs of her large -circle of nephews and nieces. In nearly all the Courts of Europe she -was “everybody’s aunt,” and every one confided in her, although she -had a perfect genius for betraying secrets to the very people to whom -they ought not to be told. Very soon after her arrival at Nice -Félicia knew of all the discourteous and uncomplimentary remarks her -uncle Don Ramon had made when he found himself forced to acknowledge -an American niece, and Maimie had heard a second time that Cyril had -advised King Michael to get rid of her before he married Félicia. -Both of them had drunk in with keen delight Princess Amalie’s account -of the disgust felt by all the younger branches of the -Schwarzwald-Molzau family and their relations over Helene’s marriage, -and the almost total lack of wedding-presents and royal guests. It was -this which pleased Félicia most, but Maimie took an even greater -pleasure in the further resolution which seemed to have been generally -formed by King Michael’s family, that they would not attend his -wedding if Count Mortimer was to be present. Any slight inflicted upon -the man who had tried to separate her from Félicia she accepted as a -boon to herself, and it happened that there was another person who -felt with her. - -About three days after Princess Amalie’s arrival, it struck her -suddenly that she ought to call upon the Princess of Dardania, who was -also her niece, but whom she had not seen for some time, owing to the -unfortunate series of events which had long ago alienated the Princess -from her relations. Félicia was driving with Queen Ernestine, with -whom she agreed as well as could be expected when they had not a -single taste or thought in common, and as Princess Amalie’s own _dame -d’honneur_ was ill, she borrowed Maimie for the afternoon. Maimie had -by this time become accustomed to being regarded as a mere chattel, an -appendage to Félicia, and was by no means loath to accompany the old -lady, from whose chatter she expected to pick up a good deal of useful -information. She knew that the Princess of Dardania had an old grudge -against Count Mortimer, and as she sat silent and apart during the -visit, holding Princess Amalie’s lap-dog, she heard, as she had -anticipated, the canoness beginning her tale afresh. Every disparaging -remark, every calculated rebuff, was detailed over again, the Princess -of Dardania listening with lazy satisfaction, commenting on what she -heard rather with her great black eyes and arched eyebrows than by -word of mouth. - -“Then what is the poor Count to do, while Ernestine queens it at -Molzau, and he is shut out?” she asked at last. “Will he go to -England, to his brother?” - -“I don’t quite know,” said Princess Amalie, unwilling to confess -herself at a loss. “Ah, but Miss Logan will know. They were explaining -their plans to Félicia last night, and she was there.” - -“And did Miss Logan happen to hear how Count Mortimer proposed to -enjoy his week of liberty?” asked the Princess. - -“He is going to Thracia, madame, and her Majesty is to join him -there.” - -“To Thracia--from the south of Pannonia? It will be a long journey.” - -Maimie was conscious of something in the Princess’s tone which seemed -like repressed excitement. She answered promptly, “He intends to go -through Illyria, madame. There is only a few miles of country between -the Pannonian and Mœsian railways, and he will save time by driving -from one to the other instead of taking the long round.” - -“To drive across Illyria---- Ah!” said the Princess slowly. Again -there was that hint of eagerness in her manner, and Maimie caught it. -The Princess looked up, and saw the responsive sparkle in her eye. -Instantly her own face changed. “Illyria is a country of very -beautiful scenery. I have travelled there a good deal,” she said, with -a dead calmness in her tone, and Maimie was left to wonder what -memory, or what project, had provoked that sudden excitement. For some -reason she suspected that it did not bode well for Count Mortimer, and -she was glad of it, though it was not evident to her what the Princess -could do to annoy him. - -A few days later, the Bluebird left the Western Mediterranean for the -port at which Don Ramon of Arragon was to welcome his niece. The Queen -and Cyril were on board, so was Princess Amalie, and so also was Mr -Hicks, who was understood to occupy the position of the late Prince -Joseph’s man of business. A high honour was awaiting Félicia, for the -Emperor of Pannonia happened to be visiting the port; and when Don -Ramon’s arrival was delayed, through some accident or mistake which -was hinted not to be altogether accidental, he took upon himself the -duty of welcoming her and Princess Amalie. Queen Ernestine went -northwards to Molzau, Cyril started on his journey to Thracia, and -Félicia, with her train of followers, was delivered into the hands of -her uncle. He proved to be a stern-faced elderly man, early soured by -the loss of all his prospects, and interested in humanity only from -the point of view of a student of brain disease. His wife was so -completely his shadow that she was known as “la Ramona” at the -Pannonian Court; but she had individuality enough to disapprove very -heartily of heretics, Americans, and people who were not _hoffähig_ -generally, and to regard Félicia as an example of all three. The -daughters were uninteresting girls, keenly on the look-out for -something shocking in everything their new cousin said or did, and -Félicia expressed privately to Maimie her opinion that even if her -whole fortune had been divided among them they would not have married. -But these unpleasing family characteristics were merely spots in the -sun. Félicia’s ambition was on the eve of attainment. She was -recognised as a daughter of Arragon, and as the Princess Doña -Feliciana Josefa was on her way to Molzau to receive a crown--and -incidentally, to marry a king. - - - - - CHAPTER XVII. - MISSING. - -“Well, Phil, what do you think of your sister-in-law? Isn’t she an -amusing child?” - -“She is amusing, but she’s not a child--or at any rate, she’s a woman -as well.” - -“No, Phil, I swear to you I feel like a showman, or old Barlow in -‘Sandford and Merton,’ or a benevolent uncle taking a small kid to the -Zoo--like anything but a husband. Now, do we look like a married -couple?” - -“Not a bit. How funny! It was only this morning that it struck me you -looked like a kind elder brother taking his little sister out on a -half-holiday. Helene was hanging on your arm and looking up into your -face, and chattering hard the whole time.” - -“Of course. She’s nothing but a child. She has been nowhere, seen -nothing, heard nothing, and her mother has done all she could to keep -her a baby. Everything is new and interesting to her, and life is a -nice new game. I keep thinking of that absurd story of the wife of -some literary man who chose a house because ‘the garden would be so -lovely for her and Percy to play in.’ I’m certain Helene would be -attracted by a good lot of bushes. She’d think they would be so -convenient for hide-and-seek.” - -“I’m glad the more obvious literary parallel hasn’t occurred to you,” -said Philippa severely. - -“More obvious even than that? Oh, I know! David Cop----” - -“If you say it, I shall throw this book at you. She is a dear little -thing, Usk, and you don’t appreciate her a bit.” - -“I know she’s a dear little thing, and I’m awfully fond of her. And no -doubt it’s most excellent for her to be firmly convinced that I know -everything. Plenty of men would give their ears for their wives to -think so. But it’s horribly embarrassing for me when she looks up at -me just like a child and asks some perfectly impossible question.” - -“No, not like a child. A child is never satisfied if you can’t answer -it. ‘Don’t you know? Why don’t you know? Does anybody know? Then _why_ -don’t you know?’ You used to go on like that yourself; I can remember -it quite well. But when Helene finds she has asked a question you -can’t answer, she’s dreadfully afflicted, and looks round to make sure -that Fred and I haven’t noticed.” - -“Poor little girl! But really, Phil, we get on perfectly well, and -she’s continually assuring me that she was never so happy in her -life.” - -“Yes; but I am in constant terror that her eyes will be opened. I -always try to draw her in when you and I are talking. Don’t you see -how it is? You consult me about what you are going to do, but you tell -her about it when it’s all settled. And she has a right to be -consulted.” - -“Oh, nonsense! I don’t want her to worry herself. She’s a dear little -comrade as it is, and I believe I’d rather she remained a child, after -all. She--she’s so awfully contented and satisfied now, you know.” - -Philippa nodded her head sagely. “That’s just it. You think that as a -woman she would demand more from you. But she is a woman in the way -she loves you, Usk. I can see that.” - -“My dear Phil, you are most penetrating and far-sighted, I don’t -doubt, but after all, I’m Helene’s husband, and I may be allowed to -know her better than you do. Look at her now, tormenting old Fred with -a catechism on vine-growing. She’s only a child, vividly interested in -everything, and devoted to me just because I’ve been kind to her--as -if I could help it. I suppose she’ll grow up some day, but I’m not -going to turn her into a little old woman before the time.” - -Philippa rose and looked over the carved wooden railing that -safeguarded the balcony, for the house stood on a precipitous -hillside. Up the winding path her husband and Helene were slowly -climbing, with a pleasant murmur of voices, after visiting the -vineyard which occupied a more gradual slope below. Far in the -distance could be seen the blue of the Mediterranean, with a -wilderness of hills between, some bare and rugged, others cultivated -almost to the summit. The native house in which the Mansfields had -taken refuge from the heat and possible fever of the Palestinian -lowlands where their work lay was situated on the western slope of -Mount Lebanon. - -“They won’t be here for a minute,” said Philippa hastily. “Usk, tell -me quickly--I’m most frightfully anxious--is it because you are still -in love with Félicia that you can’t care properly for Helene?” - -Usk laughed. “You’ve quite determined that I’m a brute to Helene. No, -Phil, I can’t say that I feel the very slightest envy of King Michael. -If Félicia was cruel, she was kind too. As I was not to love her, she -left me nothing to do but hate her. No, I don’t mean that exactly. You -know, don’t you?” - -“And now she has probably had her wish, and been a queen, for two -days. It doesn’t seem at all fair or moral. Even Becky Sharp never -quite succeeded in getting what she wanted. But she’s out of your way, -and I’m glad of it. Poor little Helene must ‘dree her ain weird,’ I -suppose, as you won’t listen to what I say about her.” - -“A telegram!” cried Helene, running up the steps at the end of the -balcony. “We met the servant coming from Beyrout with the letters, and -he had this for you, Usk. What can it be?” - -“What can it be?” echoed Usk, as he tore open the envelope. “I say!” -his tone changed. “Just listen: ‘Your uncle has disappeared. Meet me -immediately at Novigrad, _viâ_ Trieste.--Ernestine.’ What does it -mean?” - -“Uncle Cyril disappeared!” gasped Philippa. - -“They’ve murdered him at last!” cried Mansfield. “Don’t stand staring, -Usk; they shall pay for it! We’ll track them to the world’s end.” - -“It doesn’t say he’s dead,” suggested Helene, very pale. “Perhaps it’s -brigands, and they are holding him to ransom.” - -“Well, at any rate, we must find him,” said Mansfield. “If we go down -to Beyrout to-night, we can catch the steamer to-morrow morning, Usk.” - -“No, no,” said Usk, recovering himself. “You must stay here. We can’t -leave the girls alone. Besides, there’s your work.” - -“Hang the work!” cried Mansfield. “The girls will look after one -another.” - -“No,” said Helene, very quietly, but with white determination, “I am -going with Usk.” - -“Nonsense, Lenchen! I can’t take you. You’ll stay with Phil and the -baby.” - -“I am going with you,” repeated Helene. “Or if you refuse to let me -come with you, I shall follow you by the next steamer, and Phil will -help me, because she knows I am right in going.” - -“She is, indeed, Usk,” said Philippa. “With you to take care of her, -what reason is there why she shouldn’t go?” - -“Why, dozens! It’s simply preposterous. I shall be rushing about into -all sorts of places, where I couldn’t take a lady. You don’t know how -rough things are in Illyria.” - -“I can live upon black bread and goats’ milk,” said Helene calmly, -“and you couldn’t.” - -“But I can’t trail about a whole procession of servants. Everything -may depend upon following up a clue quickly.” - -“Then we will leave some of them behind. I promised mamma I would -never travel without Hannele and Jakob--she was afraid of my becoming -English and independent, so she made me promise not to go about -unattended,” explained Helene rather piteously to Philippa--“so we -must take them; but with your William besides, we can manage quite -well.” - -“Now you know you only want William because his name is the same as -the groom’s in ‘Mademoiselle Mathilde,’” said Usk unkindly. - -“No,” said Helene, with dignity. “It is because it is not suitable for -my husband to have no attendant while I have two.” - -“And look here, Usk,” said Mansfield; “you can establish your wife and -the servants comfortably at some safe centre while you go off and -follow up clues. It’ll be much better for her to have some one with -her.” - -“That is not what I want,” objected Helene--“to be left safe and -comfortable while Usk goes into danger. I want to go with him and -help.” - -“Oh, but you don’t want to be in the way, Lenchen,” said Philippa, -speaking with the authority of a whole year of matrimonial experience. -“You will do as Usk thinks best, I know, and he’ll take you with him -wherever he can, won’t you, Usk?” - -“Rather!” said Usk forgivingly, and Helene brushed away a threatening -tear or two, and smiled up at him. - -“Because, you see,” Philippa went on, “this is such an awful thing -that we must none of us think about ourselves at all, only about Uncle -Cyril and how to find him. We had better settle that you are to -telegraph for Fred the moment you want him, Usk. I don’t think he -ought to leave Palestine until you see what there is to be done, for I -know the Chevalier Goldberg considers his presence here very -important.” - -“I hate being made a part of a plot and not seeing how it works,” said -Mansfield gloomily. “If you wire I’ll come like a shot, Usk. Which is -the quickest way?” - -“To land in Dardania and cross the mountains, if the steamers fit. Why -does Aunt Ernestine tell me to come round by Trieste, I wonder?” - -“Because she has reason to distrust Dardania, probably. It’s quite -possible that our friend the Dowager Princess has allies there still.” - -“You are puzzling Helene,” said Usk. “She doesn’t know all the ins and -outs of the family differences.” - -“Oh, I know that Cousin Ottilie was very angry about Aunt Ernestine’s -marriage, and said horrid things about the dear Count,” said Helene; -and then the subject dropped, as Philippa suggested that it was time -to pack. - -Five days later Usk and Helene, with their diminished retinue, were -landing at Trieste, after eagerly seizing upon the papers brought out -by the boats which boarded the steamer outside the harbour. When they -left Beyrout, no news had arrived concerning the disappearance of -Count Mortimer beyond the Queen’s telegram, but in these European -papers it was the sensation of the hour. The circumstances appeared -equally simple and perplexing. The Count, with his secretary and -valet, had left the Pannonian railway at its termination on the -eastern border of the Illyrian Provinces, and, like other travellers, -hired a carriage to convey him across the debatable land which was -owned by Roum, partially occupied by Pannonia, and unceasingly coveted -both by Dardania and Mœsia. The Roumi Government had refused -persistently, and from its own point of view wisely, to allow any -railway to be built across this strip of territory, but there was a -carriage road, kept in good order by Pannonian military engineers, -which connected the Pannonian railway system on the western border -with that of Mœsia on the east. Quitting Novigrad in Illyria, the -party had arrived safely at a posting-station bearing the uneuphonious -name of Klotsch, situated near the point at which the main road into -Dardania crossed, almost at right angles, that which joined the two -railways. Here, while the horses were changed, the travellers alighted -for dinner, only to find when the meal was over that their driver had -got drunk. The landlord volunteered to provide another, but he had to -be sought for in the village, and Count Mortimer, who was obviously -impatient at the delay, decided to walk on with his secretary, and -allow the carriage, with the valet and the luggage, to overtake him. -It was a long light summer evening, and he was anxious to reach the -Mœsian frontier that night. The carriage started about a quarter of -an hour later, but the driver and the valet were astonished to find -that they did not come up with the walkers, although the horses were -fresh and the road good. In ever-increasing astonishment they drove -the whole way to the customs-station on the Mœsian border without -meeting any one, and learned there that Count Mortimer and his -companion had not arrived. The valet became immediately very much -excited, and demanded a force of gendarmes from the Pannonian -frontier-post, in order to go back and make a thorough search on both -sides of the road for his master, who, he declared, must have been -waylaid and murdered. The officer in charge of the post received the -demand with contempt and some resentment, for the road was regarded as -particularly safe, but the valet’s earnestness, and his declaration -that he believed his master had enemies who would stick at nothing to -get him out of the way, induced him to send a patrol with torches to -search the roadsides as far as Klotsch. Messengers were also sent -along the road which led into the Dardanian highlands, to inquire -whether the two men had taken the wrong turning and gone that way by -mistake; but neither at the one country-seat which stood in the -neighbourhood, nor in any of the poor hamlets along the road, had -anything been seen of them. The country-house belonged to Prince -Valerian Pelenko, a cousin of the Prince of Dardania, and he himself, -travelling to “Europe,” had passed through Klotsch with his attendants -shortly after the carriage had started. He had not met it, for it -would have passed the cross-road before his carriage turned into the -main highway, and most certainly he had not met the missing men, for -his attendants would have been sure to report at the posting-station -the astonishing sight of two “European” gentlemen walking unattended -along the road. Extraordinary as it seemed, there was no doubt that -Count Mortimer and his secretary had disappeared as completely as -though they had not been, and that the disappearance had taken place -on the high road and almost in broad daylight. There were no signs of -a struggle, and tentative suggestions of a landslip, or a fall over a -steep place on the edge of the road, were scouted at once, for there -was absolutely not the slightest indication of either. The English -papers, taking up Count Mortimer’s cause with a vigour they had seldom -displayed during his career, were drawing parallels between his -disappearance and that of the unfortunate Mr Benjamin Bathurst in the -early years of the nineteenth century, and hinting that as similar -influences were in all probability at work, the fate of the one was -likely to remain, like that of the other, an unsolved mystery. The -Neustrian, Scythian, and Roumi papers, relying on the known antipathy -of their respective Governments to the Pannonian occupation of the -Illyrian Provinces, were urgent and eloquent in their representations -that Pannonia had now conclusively proved herself unfitted to -discharge her duties, since she could not even protect travellers on -the high road. The Pannonian papers, unable to deny the facts, took -refuge in the assertion that Count Mortimer’s disappearance was purely -voluntary. For reasons of his own he had made up his mind to vanish, -and he had done so, and who could be held responsible for the doings -of a man whose pride it had always been to baffle and astonish the -rest of Europe? This was the state of things at present. Queen -Ernestine, in the deepest grief and anxiety, was at Novigrad, where -Lord Caerleon had joined her as fast as steam could bring him from -England, and they were making a comprehensive search throughout the -whole district, aided by the best detectives that money could procure. - -“It looks hopeless!” said Usk despondently to Helene, as they walked -up the quay at Trieste. “One almost wonders---- Now then, where are -you going to?” The words were addressed to a loutish youth, apparently -a dockyard loafer of the usual type, who had lurched up against him; -but as the man withdrew with a surly apology, Usk found a piece of -paper in his hand. Guessing that it contained some secret information, -he unfolded one of the newspapers he had bought, as if to look at the -page again, and laid the paper against it. “Look here, Helene!” he -said. - -Helene glanced quickly at the scrap of writing. - - - “When you leave Trieste this afternoon, watch out for me. I shall be - fooling around at the depot with a camera, and I don’t want to have - you seem to know me. Get into talk with me the way you would with a - stranger, for I must speak to you.--Hicks.” - - -“This gentleman is some English peer of your acquaintance?” said -Helene, looking respectfully at the signature. - -Usk smothered a laugh. “Not exactly,” he said. “He’s the American -newspaper man you’ve heard so much about, and a real good fellow. If -you’ll excuse me, Nell, I’ll light a cigar.” - -“A long way round!” said Helene, as he twisted the paper into a roll, -and striking a match, set light to it, instead of lighting the cigar -with the match. - -“If you mean a roundabout way, my child, why not say so? Don’t you see -that Hicks evidently expects us to be watched? I daren’t leave that -paper lying about, or even tear it up. Now will you keep your eyes -open this afternoon, and express innocent wonder if you see a long -scraggy fellow, with a thin grey beard, taking snap-shots? That’ll -give us an opportunity to get into conversation.” - -Helene promised to be on the watch, and very soon after they reached -the station she pulled Usk’s sleeve. “Do look at that gentleman taking -photographs,” she said, with admirable innocence. “It must be so -interesting to be able to do it! All these quaint costumes----” - -“They’re nothing to what you’ll see in the Balkans,” said Usk. “What a -pity we didn’t think of bringing a kodak. But we might send for one, -of course. Would you mind allowing my wife to see how your camera -works?” he asked of the photographer, who had been listening with a -twinkle in his eye while pretending to focus an Albanian group on the -opposite platform. - -“Why, certainly,” was the hearty response. “You hold it this way, and -you put your eye here---- But if we move away a step or so, we won’t -be so crowded. I have a whole-souled admiration for your manner of -meeting me, sir,” added Mr Hicks, in a lower tone, as he exhibited the -camera and appeared to be describing its mechanism. “And this is the -little Princess?” - -“No,” said Helene. “It is Lady Usk.” - -“Is that so?” asked Mr Hicks slowly, manipulating a screw. “Well, I -incline to think Lord Usk has struck ile.” - -“I don’t know English quite well yet,” said Helene apologetically. - -“I guess your husband has found the pay-streak, then.” - -“I’m afraid there must be a great many words I don’t know. I must look -them out.” - -“Mr Hicks wants me to understand that I’ve married a treasure, -Lenchen. Does that satisfy you? Well, Hicks, what’s the plan of -campaign?” - -“Why, just this, sir. There are the Queen and your father turning the -Illyrian Provinces upside down, and a whole army of detectives -figuring around. But those that took on this big risk mean to see it -through, and they will pour out the dollars like water to keep truth -at the bottom of her well. They know just who’s on their trail, and -they have covered their tracks. I have concluded to work back of them, -instead of in front, which is high-toned, but renders a man more -liable to sudden death than appeals to me. I am working up the -Illyrian Provinces with typewriter and camera, _sabe_? on behalf of a -monster tourist agency in the States that’s set on exploiting them, -and you may bet your last red cent my eyes will be open for any -suspicious circumstances. I’d like to fix up a code for communicating -with you----” - -“Oh, please,” said Helene, “pardon my interrupting you, but I have -just seen my cousin, the Princess of Dardania, getting out of the -train at the end of the platform, and I thought from what Usk -said----” - -With great dexterity Mr Hicks withdrew himself behind a pile of -luggage. “You’re real smart, Lady Usk. If her Royal Highness had seen -us together, it would have been just about the meanest trick fate -could have played us. Coming off the cars from Illyria, was she? Now -what’s she been doing way down there? She was at Nice yet when we quit -it before the wedding. You don’t think she saw us, do you?” - -“No, I’m sure she didn’t, but she is coming this way.” - -“Helene, you’ll have to face her,” said Usk. “I must arrange things -with Hicks. If I establish you on this seat, with a bodyguard of -servants in the background, while I go and see about the luggage, you -won’t move away till I come back, will you? and you’ll try to keep her -in talk?” - -“But there is no need to see about the luggage,” Helene called after -him, as he hurried away; “the railway officials look after that, or -you can send one of the servants.” But he was already out of earshot, -and Helene rose to meet the Princess, who swept towards her with -outstretched hands, making her feel incredibly young and small. - -“Why, my little Lenchen!” cried Princess Ottilie; “do I find you -alone? What has happened to the Fairy Prince--fairy peer I should say, -should I not?” - -“Usk is gone to look after the luggage,” said Helene. - -“The ruling passion of the Englishman on his travels! And are you -tired of one another yet, my romantic Lenchen?” - -“I am certainly not tired of him, Cousin Ottilie.” - -“What freezing coldness, little one! But I forgot that you had married -into a romantic family. The Mortimers and their wives are always -absurdly attached to one another. It is quite -_bürgerlich_--middle-class, I suppose your new relations would call -it.” - -“If it is middle-class to be fond of one’s husband, then I am -middle-class,” said Helene. - -“You--the descendant of Charlemagne! And you are allowing your husband -to drag you into exile already? Where are you going with this -wonderful luggage which needs so much looking after?” - -“Can you ask, Cousin Ottilie? Of course we are going to Novigrad, to -help look for the dear Count.” - -“To help look for----? Oh, Count Mortimer!” the Princess broke into a -soft peal of laughter. “My darling Lenchen, you must forgive me. It -really did not occur to me whom you meant. Has it never struck any of -you that Count Mortimer might prefer not to be looked for?” - -“How could it? What can you mean?” - -The Princess drew a letter from her pocket. “Of course Lord Usk won’t -believe me,” she said, “but I should really like to save you two from -taking a journey into the wilds for no reason at all.” - -“Cousin Ottilie! why shouldn’t Usk believe you?” cried Helene, aghast. - -“My dear child, he is prejudiced, of course,” but the Princess seemed -a little confused, and unfolded the letter quickly, as though to -forestall further questioning. “This is from my husband’s cousin, -Valerian Pelenko. I have just been paying a flying visit to -Dardania--to see the new baby, not to stay; Emilia and I agree better -apart--and I wrote to ask whether I might spend a night at his house -near Klotsch on the journey. Here is what he says: ‘Pray consider my -house as your own, as often and as long as you like. I am sorry to be -away. By the bye, I had a curious _rencontre_ just as I was leaving -home. Do you remember the man Mortimer, who made rather a -laughing-stock of himself at Ludwigsbad two or three years ago by -aspiring to your particular favour? Naturally you will remember him; -he found your cousin Ernestine of Thracia less hard-hearted than -yourself, I recollect. Well, as I was driving towards Klotsch, before -we turned into the Novigrad road, we met another carriage, and in it I -saw Count Mortimer and a lady, with whom he seemed to be on excellent -terms----’” - -“Oh, it must be a mistake!” cried Helene. “Why, Aunt Ernestine was at -Molzau, at Michael’s wedding.” - -“My dear Lenchen, let me entreat you not to make that remark to your -husband when you tell him this, or he will set you down for ever as a -fool. Valerian goes on: ‘There were servants and luggage, and all the -necessaries for a long journey, apparently. Doubtless your friend was -bound, by way of Dardania, for the Ionian Isles, or some similar -region of delight, where a spot or two may yet be found destitute of -the moral code, as I once heard an Englishman say of the East -generally. Happy he! What are your plans for the autumn? I am too late -for Ludwigsbad this year, alas!’ That is all that concerns the Count,” -said the Princess, folding the letter, as Helene sat dumb. “And here -is your husband, come to sweep you into the train with the rest of the -luggage, I suppose. How do you do, Lord Usk? So delightful to get this -short glimpse of little Lenchen! She really looks younger than ever -since you married her.” - -Helene was still speechless as the Princess bade her an affectionate -farewell, and gave her hand to Usk that he might lead her to her -carriage. When he returned to warn Helene that their train was coming -in, she turned an ashy face to him. - -“Oh, Nym, I must tell you. She says such things----” - -“Wait until we’re in the train,” said Usk; and it was only when they -were moving out of the station that he turned to her with, “Well, what -is it, Nell?” - -“She says that the dear Count went away of his own accord, with--with -a lady, and that he doesn’t want to be found.” - -“Not content with kidnapping him, they try to take away his character, -do they?” said Usk savagely. “She wants to hurt Aunt Ernestine, do you -see, Nell? We won’t tell her if we can help it. Of course you don’t -believe the story?” - -“Of course not. But it is so dreadful that people should say such -things about him, when we know how good he is, how----” Helene’s voice -failed. - -“Well, we know that no one will believe it who knows anything of him. -She must have thought you very young, and ready to believe anything, -mustn’t she? Poor little Nell!” He put his arm round her, and drew her -close to him, regardless of the fact that the guard might appear at -any moment. - -“But how terrible that she should say such things, when she knows they -are not true! Our own cousin, Nym!” - -“Oh, well, you see, she has a grudge against him.” - -“But why? What has he done?” - -“Well, she wishes it to be understood that he proposed to her at -Ludwigsbad a year or two back, and she refused him. That sort of thing -generally makes a woman pursue a man with implacable hatred, doesn’t -it? What do you say?” - -“Why, I should have thought just the opposite--that she would be as -kind to him as possible, and fearfully sorry that he should love her -in vain.” - -“So should I. And we think, all of us--mind, he has never said a word -on the subject--that she--well, that it was the other way about.” - -“That she proposed to him, and he refused her? Oh, Nym!” - -“And he married Aunt Ernestine. That’s where the sting comes in, you -see. Why, what’s the matter, Nell?” for Helene was crying. - -“I never thought people could be so wicked,” she murmured at last. - -“Ah, you’ll find worse things done than that,” said Usk sagely. “Now -do you see why Hicks thinks the Princess is mixed up in whatever has -happened?” - -“But what could she have done?” - -“He’s quite certain there has been foul play, and he thinks the most -likely thing is that they have hired a band of brigands to carry him -off into the hills. You see, the district is a sort of No Man’s Land, -and the brigands may have come from any part of the Balkans. They may -even have taken him down into the Roumi territory to the south, where -an army couldn’t find him. But Hicks doesn’t believe it’s as bad as -that,” quickly. “He thinks it’s much more likely they have got him -somewhere in the Dardanian mountains.” - -“And does he hope to find him?” - -“He’s going to try. By the bye, he is to get a camera for us, and send -us hints on photography from time to time, and we have arranged a code -with the technical words. So cheer up, Nell. We’ll outwit them yet.” - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII. - WANDERING FIRES. - -It was on a day of appalling dust and heat that Usk and his wife -arrived at the Illyrian town of Novigrad. The place stood among hills -which had been left stony and treeless by several centuries of Roumi -domination, but up which patches of woodland were beginning to creep -under the fostering care of the Pannonian officials in charge of the -province. There was a sparkling river which flowed in a rocky channel -through the town, and many of the houses on the outskirts were -embowered in greenery, but the general impression was of glaring white -walls, dazzling roofs and blinding dust, and an atmosphere of heat -from which no refuge could be found. Helene was nearly fainting when -Usk helped her out of the carriage at the door of the solitary hotel, -and her plight moved an elderly man of Jewish appearance, who was -sitting in a dejected attitude on the terrace in front, to catch up a -glass of sherbet, and hasten to her assistance with a murmur of -sympathy. - -“Place de younk lady in dis chair off mine, sir,” he said. “Heat such -as dis iss killink for dose not accustomed to it. Your business must -be fery pressink, iss it not? But why! it iss my frient Lord Usk and -his most gracious lady! Ah, den I need not ask your reasson for comink -here. What a loss iss dis we hef all sustained!” - -“I never thought of finding you here, Chevalier,” said Usk, -administering a few drops of the sherbet at a time to Helene, “and yet -of course it’s the natural thing. Helene, this is the Chevalier -Goldberg, my uncle’s great friend----” - -“Alas, no!” cried the Chevalier, raising his hands deprecatingly--“not -his frient, his enemy. It is my embition, my esspirations, det hef led -to all dis! De Queen says it; she will not receife me. I may not help -efen to search for him, but I remain here, in case I may yet be -permitted to do somethink.” - -“But you didn’t help to lead him into danger?” asked Helene anxiously. - -“I kennot tell. De Queen says it. It seems he hed receifed warninks; I -wass not told. Rader would I hef postponed efen de triumph off my -nation den risk his life, his freedom.” - -“Then where is the Queen?” asked Usk. - -“She is spendink de day at Klotsch, and your fader also. So it iss -efery day. Dey go dere to exemine all de neighbourhood demselfs, and -come beck at night to receife de reports off deir achents. But her -Machesty will not see me, nor allow me to take any part in de search.” - -“We will speak to her, and ask her to let you help,” said Helene. “It -must be so sad for you not to be allowed to do anything.” - -The Chevalier pursued her with his fervent thanks as Usk supported her -into the hotel, but the task she had undertaken proved more difficult -than she expected. When Queen Ernestine returned, she refused to have -anything to do with the Chevalier Goldberg. He had sacrificed her -husband to his plots, she declared, with a violence of unreason which -reminded Lord Caerleon of those early days when she had done her best -to make Cyril’s life a burden to him. The stately gentleness which had -characterised her of late years seemed to have disappeared, and she -was simply a woman fighting wildly for her husband’s life. The fearful -anxiety of the last few days had driven her almost mad, as she joined -feverishly in the searches made in the district round Klotsch, or sat -waiting for messages, not knowing whether to look forward to their -arrival with fear or with hope. But so far no news whatever had been -received. - -“It’s quite natural she should feel prejudiced against the Chevalier,” -said Lord Caerleon to his son, as they walked up and down the terrace, -while Helene sat with the Queen, and tried in vain to cheer her, “but -it’s very unfortunate. These Jews have a natural instinct for -ferreting out mysteries, and Goldberg can set in motion a whole army -of helpers all over Europe. But I can’t urge her against her will. I -wish your mother was here.” - -“What is the mater doing, by the way?” asked Usk. “We quite thought we -should find her here.” - -“Pauline Vassilievna is dying. We were just starting for Geneva to be -with her, when your aunt’s telegram came, so your mother went alone to -Switzerland, and I came on here.” - -“And King Michael--what about him? What an ungrateful beast he must -be!” - -“Oh, he is away on his honeymoon, in the Bluebird, and your aunt -wouldn’t allow him to be told. He was only to be troubled with -absolutely necessary State business, and she doesn’t particularly want -him here. He could do no good.” - -“Usk,” said Queen Ernestine from the window, and Usk noticed the new -tone of sharpness in her voice, “you and Helene are not to stay here -more than one night. Helene looks ill already, and Mirkovics tells me -she was nearly dead when she arrived. You must take her up into the -hills, to Drinitza, in the morning.” - -“Oh, please not,” Helene’s voice interposed, from the sofa. “Dear Aunt -Ernestine, we have come here to help. You will break our hearts if you -send us away, and won’t let us do anything.” - -“Hush, Lenchen!” said the Queen harshly. “I will not have more trouble -brought upon the innocent by their connection with me. How could I -ever forgive myself if you fell ill?” - -“Besides,” said Lord Caerleon, in his calm tones, “you can be very -useful at Drinitza. It is not so far off, just above the underground -cavern out of which this river here flows, and you will be able to -explore that part of the country as we have been doing the other side. -It seems quite certain that your uncle has not been taken across the -Dardanian frontier, and therefore he must still be on this side of it. -That will be your work, to search the Drinitza district.” - -“But Helene is not to be sacrificed. I will not have her sacrificed,” -repeated the Queen feverishly. “If there is a curse, it shall rest on -me alone.” - -“No, no; who is talking of sacrificing Helene?” asked Lord Caerleon. -“She is going to spend these hot weeks at a pleasant little place in -the hills, and take plenty of walks and drives with Usk. That will -suit you, little girl, won’t it?” - -“Oh yes; if we can really help in that way,” said Helene eagerly. - -“I am having the buggy sent out which I had built for you,” Lord -Caerleon went on. “It is intended for rough roads, and I have my eye -on a pair of fair enough horses which one of the officers in the town, -who is ordered back to Vindobona, wants to sell. Usk will give you -driving-lessons, and take you with him on all his expeditions wherever -the buggy can go. When he can’t be with you he’ll leave you in charge -of his man William, who is the nephew of our coachman at Llandiarmid, -and knows all there is to know about horses.” - -“Oh, thank you. You have arranged everything so nicely,” said Helene. - -“We will take a carriage and go over to Drinitza in the morning to see -about rooms,” said Usk. “Will that suit you, Aunt Ernestine? You -evidently share Phil’s opinion that I don’t take proper care of my -wife.” - -“It is not that. I have brought trouble on so many----” began the -Queen. - -“By the way, Ernestine,” said Lord Caerleon, with some impatience, -“are you still thinking of a personal appeal to the Emperor of -Scythia? If so, we shall want to leave some one in charge of things -here. Are Usk and Helene to come back from Drinitza?” - -“Ah, you are trying to persuade me to accept the help of the Chevalier -Goldberg!” said the Queen. “Well, I cannot say yet. I must wait until -all the detectives have reported to me. Then, if there is still no -news,” she shuddered, “we must think what is to be done.” - -Early the next morning, while the air was still comparatively cool, -Usk and Helene hired a carriage and drove out to Drinitza. Their road -zigzagged up and down the hill-sides, and crossed several bridges, all -over the same river. The hamlet for which they were bound stood near -the crest of a hill, looking as if it might at any moment slip from -its little terrace of rock over the stupendous cliff below. Behind the -hotel the wooded summit rose sheer; in front there was the pretence of -a garden, with arbours (a little the worse for dust), and a fountain -or two, and a piazza which commanded a pleasant view. At the foot of -the cliff, in a cool glen cheerful with singing-birds, and bright with -crimson-flowered bushes and masses of white-blossomed creeper, was the -mysterious cavern from which the river burst forth full-grown. The -landlord of the little inn, an old Pannonian soldier, was eloquent in -his description of the wonders of the cavern, the blueness of the -water inside it, and the strange shapes of the rocks, but it seemed -that he had only explored it to a point from which the entrance could -still be seen. He was too wise, however, to dash the hopes of -prospective guests, and promised to provide a boat and plenty of -torches, and do his best to find two boatmen, if the “gracious English -nobilities” wished to make a more thorough search at any time. The -place was beginning to become known, but the old man’s principal -customers were still the officers and townspeople who drove out from -Novigrad on Sundays and holidays, and he was delighted to let his best -rooms to such distinguished persons as Lord and Lady Usk. In his -abounding satisfaction he escorted them up the wood-paths to the top -of the hill, and pointed out in the valley far below on the other side -a white thread, which he told them was the road into Dardania. - -“Then where does Prince Pelenko live?” asked Usk, while Helene gave a -gasp. They might even now be looking at the scene of the final act of -the tragedy which was baffling them all. - -“Yonder is his Highness’s house,” answered the old man, pointing to a -large white building dimly seen among the trees, “but his property -extends for miles, as far as the Dardanian frontier.” - -“Then we shan’t be able to walk through those lovely forests, as he is -away from home, and can’t give us leave,” said Helene. - -“Ah, the gracious lady need not grieve herself,” said the old man, -with a knowing look. “The Prince started, certainly, but he is back at -home now, sure enough, though it is not every one that knows it, and -it will be easy to obtain his leave for the noble lady and gentleman -to go where they like on his land.” - -“At home? Oh, Usk, we must go and see him, and find out whether he -really----” but Usk pressed her arm. - -“Is it true that the river flows underground before it reaches the -cave, and that there is a place where it disappears into the earth?” -he asked the landlord. Volubly the old man assured him that it was -perfectly true,--that close to the Mœsian frontier, on the -north-east, there was a spot called Bagnanera, where the river -disappeared suddenly into a cave of awful blackness, and that objects -thrown into the water there had in due time been found in the river -below the hotel. - -“How dreadful!” said Helene, shuddering. “Why,” her tone changed, -“there is a European coming up the hill--not an officer. Have you any -other visitors?” - -“It is the great Scythian nobleman who has been visiting the Pelenko -mansion. Will the nobilities excuse me?” asked the old man hurriedly. -“I must see that his horses are ready.” - -“How awfully unfortunate!” said Usk quickly, as the landlord hastened -back to his house. “It’s Prince Soudaroff, of all people! and there’s -no hope that he hasn’t seen us. Well, we had better face it out, Nell, -and just admire the view till he gets up here.” - -The recognition seemed to be mutual, for the gentleman who was -mounting the steep path stopped and hesitated perceptibly when he saw -the two figures on the hill-top, but coming, apparently, to the same -decision as Usk, he resumed his climb, and advanced towards them with -beaming countenance and uplifted hat. - -“I assist at an idyll!” he said in French as he met them. “Youth, -beauty, and nature--I enjoy them all at one glance. Let me -congratulate you, Lord Usk, on the spot you have chosen for your -sojourn. It is evident that you are of the few who have discovered the -charms of this corner of Europe, you and--may I say Madame la -Vicomtesse?” - -“Oh yes, please,” said Helene, flushing with pleasure. Here at last -was some one who understood her wish without being told. - -“It isn’t the scenery that has brought us here,” said Usk bluntly. - -“Ah no, I understand. A family bereavement, is it not? and one of a -particularly distressing character. You have no good news yet, I -fear?” - -“Fear? you mean hope!” was Usk’s unuttered comment. Aloud he said, -“None.” - -“But we hope to learn something soon,” said Helene eagerly. “We were -so glad to hear that Prince Pelenko has returned home, because he -seems to have seen Count Mortimer later than any one else on the -evening that he disappeared, and we want to ask him so many things.” - -Again a look of uncertainty flitted across the Scythian statesman’s -face. “Ah, I see!” he exclaimed. “I fear you will be disappointed, -madame. It is not Prince Valerian, the head of the family, who is at -the Pelenko mansion, but his younger brother, Prince Shishman Pelenko, -who holds a commission in my imperial master’s bodyguard, and it is on -his account I am here. Ten days ago this young man was engaged in a -duel, and had the misfortune to kill his opponent. The sad event -preyed so much upon his mind that he wrote a hasty resignation of his -commission, and retired to the family estate, to bury himself among -these hills. My august master received his decision with much regret, -and graciously entrusted me with a mission to the unfortunate young -man, and it is from the discharge of this mission I am -returning--unsuccessful, alas! Ah, madame, how can I hope to explain -to one so youthful and innocent as yourself the depth of grief, of -remorse, in which this unhappy Prince Shishman is plunged? He confines -himself to the enclosed grounds immediately surrounding the paternal -abode, and in these narrow limits he paces up and down like a caged -tiger. Until the unfortunate dispute which separated them, he and his -rival had been the closest of friends, and now no assurances that his -conduct throughout was that of a man of the nicest honour will comfort -him. He cannot forgive himself,” and Prince Soudaroff, deeply affected -either by his own eloquence or by the moving picture he had conjured -up, brushed away a tear. - -“I am so glad you have told us this,” said Helene, in -conscience-stricken tones. “We were going to ask leave to walk through -the woods on the estate.” - -“But why not, madame? In this I can serve you, I am happy to say. At -the inn I will write a note to Prince Pelenko’s steward, and he will -send you the necessary permission without troubling the unhappy Prince -Shishman. Of course I will assure him that you will confine your walks -to the unenclosed woods, and not threaten the privacy of the mourner.” - -“Surely that assurance is scarcely necessary, Prince?” said Usk -haughtily. - -“You must pardon me, my dear Lord Usk. I was only considering how, as -a friend of the family, I could best ensure the goodwill of an old -family servant. You intend to spend some time here? I myself am -leaving at once, summoned to the sick-bed of my sister-in-law, Pauline -Vassilievna, or I should have been delighted to do anything in my -power to show you the neighbourhood.” - -“We stay here,” returned Usk, with unconscious grimness, “until we -have cleared up the mystery of my uncle’s fate.” - -“Indeed?” Prince Soudaroff raised his eyebrows. “It is a delicate -suggestion to make, but are you sure you are quite wise? Is it kind to -condemn madame to a possibly lifelong sojourn among these hills? When -one wishes to disappear, one is generally able to baffle pursuit.” - -“Count Mortimer didn’t wish to disappear!” cried Helene indignantly. -“It is his enemies who have got him imprisoned somewhere.” - -“Ah? ‘The Prince of the Captivity,’ indeed!” said Prince Soudaroff -pleasantly. “I would not for the world destroy your faith, madame. But -I must reluctantly depart. I trust we may often meet again. Farewell, -madame! farewell, Lord Usk--surely all the world must be jealous of -your happiness?” and kissing Helene’s hand gallantly, the diplomatist -departed. - -“Usk,” breathed Helene, clutching her husband’s arm, “that man knows!” - -“Knows what?” - -“Where the dear Count is. I saw it in his eye.” - -“Oh, nonsense, Nell! He’s much too wily for that.” - -“I don’t care. I don’t know how it is, but I know that he knows.” - -“If it was certain, it would be maddening,” cried Usk; “for you might -as well tell me that the General of the Jesuits knows. We are just as -likely to get it out of him. But we’ll tell Aunt Ernestine what you -think when we get back to Novigrad. It may help to decide her plans.” - -“Prince Pelenko is not at home, after all,” said Helene to the old -landlord when they returned to the hotel. “It is his brother, Prince -Shishman.” - -“So the noble Scythian gentleman told me, gracious one. I did not see -the Prince come home; I only saw smoke coming from the chimneys, and -the Dardanian servants hanging about, and I knew that one of the -family must be at the house. I guessed that there were creditors -waiting to make themselves troublesome as soon as his Highness arrived -in Europe, as has happened before, and that he had therefore -returned.” - - -As Usk had anticipated, the chance meeting with Prince Soudaroff -decided Queen Ernestine to make an immediate appeal to the Emperor of -Scythia, who was far more likely to listen to her, now that the -influence of his terrible Chancellor was temporarily removed. At the -moment he was paying his annual visit to his relations at Kaufenhafen, -the capital of Cimbria, and the Queen made up her mind to follow him -thither, trusting to the kind offices of their common cousins to -secure her an interview. It was a relief to Lord Caerleon that his -sister-in-law should be willing to take this long journey, for the -whole of the district round Klotsch had now been scoured, without -revealing the faintest trace of the missing men, or anything that -could throw light upon their fate, and he feared that her brain would -give way under the continued anxiety. In view of this personal appeal -she became almost hopeful, for she and her helpers were now beginning -to feel convinced that Count Mortimer and his secretary had been -kidnapped either by Scythia or by persons in Scythian employ, and -conveyed in some mysterious way into Scythian territory, to be there -imprisoned. - -“I will go on my knees to the Emperor to release him!” she said. “I -will promise anything in his name--anything, even that we return at -once to Sitt Zeynab and never leave it again. Cyril will keep the -promises I make for him--he may hate me for making them, but I can -bear that, if only he is restored to me safely.” - -The Chevalier Goldberg, whom she had at last consented to receive, and -even, on Lord Caerleon’s advice, to leave in charge of affairs at -Novigrad, was equally ready to make sacrifices on Cyril’s behalf. If -it was the plot to place Cyril on the throne of Palestine that had led -to his disappearance, the plot should come to an end and the plotters -be disbanded the moment he was released, and the heads of the great -Jewish syndicate called the United Nation would pledge themselves that -he should never again be brought forward as a candidate, and would -enforce the same pledge on their poorer brethren the Children of Zion. -Besides these concessions, the importance of which was, to the -initiated, rather apparent than real, the Chevalier was prepared to -give other aid, but the nature of this he did not mention to the -Queen, although Lord Caerleon understood that the journey would be as -easy as the financier’s influence could make it. At every -stopping-place an agent of the Chevalier’s was at hand, to see whether -anything was needed, and at Kaufenhafen his representative had _carte -blanche_ to take any measures advisable for furthering the interview. -These included the discreet distribution of presents among various -high functionaries of the Scythian Court, and the expense was likely -to be considerable. - -Usk and Helene drove into Novigrad to see the Queen and Lord Caerleon -start on their journey, and returned rather dolefully to Drinitza. -They had never anticipated anything like this resultless and hopeless -waiting, this wall of silence which seemed to close them round. Even a -rumour, though it might be proved baseless, would have been some -comfort; but no one came forward with false clues, as generally -happens in more thickly populated countries. The disappearance was -complete. - -“Look here,” said Usk, rousing himself, as they sat silent on the -terrace over their after-dinner coffee, “we’re getting into the blues, -Nell, and I won’t have it. I shall wake you up jolly early to-morrow -morning, as soon as ever I come back from the river, and you shall -have a good stiff driving-lesson before breakfast. Give you something -else to think about.” - -Helene smiled faintly, but she was destined to be waked even earlier -than her husband intended, and the driving-lesson was not to take -place that day. Usk went down to the river for a swim every morning, -and he was still absent when Helene was aroused by hearing a horseman -dash up the steep road, and ride clattering into the stone-paved -courtyard beside the hotel. She heard him inquire eagerly for the -English nobleman, and peeping out of her window, she saw the tokens of -dismay, horror, and astonishment exhibited on the faces of the -audience which gathered round him. She saw him ride down the road -again to find Usk, escorted by several volunteer guides, and she rang -wildly for her maid, and sent her to find out what had happened. To -her dismay, the landlord returned a polite message that the rider had -brought news for the noble Viscount, and for him alone, and that it -was of too horrible and appalling a nature for any one else to take -the responsibility of communicating it to the gracious lady. From this -decision he could not be moved, and Helene, in terrible anxiety, flung -on her clothes in wild haste, regardless of the protests of the -discreet Hannele, who owed her position to her supposed power of -keeping her young mistress within bounds. Dressed at last after a -fashion, Helene rushed out, hatless and in slippers, and ran down the -sunny, rocky road towards the glen. Before she had gone half the -distance, she met Usk hurrying up, some way in advance of the -messenger and his friends, and ran to him. She could not speak, but he -read her question in her eyes. - -“No, he’s not dead--at least we don’t know that he is, but they have -found Paschics’s body in the river between here and Novigrad.” - -“Dead--murdered?” - -“I don’t know. I am going into the town to see. No, you had better not -come. I’ll send out to tell you anything we may discover.” - -“Oh, I must--I must come,” cried Helene, clutching feebly at his arm, -and forthwith stultified herself by spinning round and falling in a -dead faint at his feet. To Usk’s intense relief, there appeared at -this point a sufficiently comical procession, consisting of Hannele -with her Highness’s hat, Jakob with her Highness’s shoes, and William, -pressed into the service, with her ladyship’s sunshade. With their -assistance, Helene was carried back to the hotel and up to her room. -When she recovered consciousness, her first thought was to send Usk -off to Novigrad at once, and she went so far as to promise to stay in -bed until he came back, although the scandalised Hannele was not a -very agreeable sick-nurse, even when her company was the only -alternative to Helene’s own anxious forebodings. It was a long, weary -day, but Usk returned at last, though without any comfort to offer -her. - -“It is poor Paschics, sure enough,” he said. - -“And he has been murdered?” - -“That’s what we can’t be sure about. The body is terribly bruised, but -there seems to be no injury sufficient to cause death.” - -“But perhaps he was drowned?” - -“No; the police-surgeon seemed quite certain it was not that. He -rather thinks that death was due to heart-failure following on a -violent shock of some kind.” - -“Oh, Usk, how terrible! If he could only speak! But the bruises?” - -“I have a theory which may account for them. Do you remember what the -landlord said about this river flowing underground from Bagnanera, -fifteen or sixteen miles away? Well, suppose the poor fellow was -thrown into the water there, whether dead or alive, in the hope that -he would sink and never be heard of again, but that the river carried -him all the way to this place? The bruises would be easily accounted -for then, you know.” - -“Isn’t it horrible? Oh, Nym, do you mean--you can’t mean that they did -that to the dear Count too, and that he has not been found, and we -shall never know? What are you going to do?” - -“I think of going over to Bagnanera. We never dreamed of extending the -search in that direction, it seemed so entirely out of the way. I only -wish I could get hold of Hicks to come too.” - -“The camera he was to send us came to-day.” - -“That won’t tell us where he is, though. We must only hope that the -thought of the underground river will strike him when he hears about -this. There are not many things that don’t occur to him.” - -Very shortly it was evident that Mr Hicks had a correspondent in -Novigrad who kept him in touch with the course of affairs, and that -the idea which occurred to Usk had struck him also, for the next day a -telegram was brought out from the town which read-- - - - “Hope camera arrived safe. Bagnanera good place for views. Am going - there to-morrow; will coach Lady Usk if you come. Bring films.” - - -“We must make a day of it,” said Usk. - -“And you’ll have to take me,” said Helene. - -“I’ve a good mind to take Hannele too, to look after you,” returned -Usk; but Helene smiled contentedly, in the certainty that Hannele -could not possibly be accommodated in the buggy. In accordance with -the cryptic direction at the end of the telegram, William and Jakob -accompanied the carriage as a mounted escort, and Mr Hicks smiled when -he met the procession, in spite of the seriousness of the occasion. - -“Your outfit is real elegant, Lady Usk,” he said, as he helped Helene -out. “Guess the natives will be ’most too frightened to stop and look -at you.” - -“Do they make any opposition to our exploring the place?” asked Usk. - -“Not a cent, sir. I’ve been figuring around as cross-examiner all of -the morning, and I can’t dig anything suspicious out of them. The -whole township isn’t anything but rocks and a few goats, and there’s -not a sign of plunder or bribery in any of the houses. Of course, they -may all be in it together, and have hidden everything dangerous, but I -can’t quite fix it so. And now, if her ladyship will be so good, after -a few hints from me, as to work that camera all it’s worth, and make -love to the women and the population generally, you and I will strike -for the disappearing river.” - -“Oh, mayn’t I come?” asked Helene anxiously. - -Mr Hicks appeared to consider deeply. “Well, Lady Usk,” he said, “I’d -as lief have you come as not, but you could assist us far more by -exercising your fascinations upon the villagers. A few nickels laid -out in bribing the children to have their pictures taken might raise -us up friends that would justify their existence.” - -“Then of course I will go to the village,” said Helene. - -“Between you and me, sir,” said Mr Hicks, when he had explained the -working of the camera, and Helene, attended by Jakob, had begun to -climb the steep street of the hamlet, “I have no use for her ladyship -the next hour or two. It’s a real ugly place, this cave, with a -current that runs like Niagara, and a sweet reputation among the -people. They won’t go near it for their lives, and would consider it -profane to build a boat. I propose that you and I and your groom -should take it in turns to explore, one man swimming, and the other -two holding the rope and lighting him.” - -Usk agreed, and the first sight of the cave proved to him that Mr -Hicks’s precautions were not unnecessary. The river, running swift and -dark, lost itself under an overhanging brow of rock, and it required a -good deal of nerve to plunge into the blackness within, even when -secured by a rope. Various ways of obtaining light were tried, such as -burning candles at the entrance, fixing a lantern just inside it, or -fastening a candle in the cap, miner’s fashion, and the cave was -explored for some distance. Usk, indeed, ventured too far, being -caught by the swift current, and only saved by clutching at a rock -past which he was swept, until he had regained sufficient strength to -add his own efforts to those of Mr Hicks and William as they hauled -desperately at the rope. He returned silent and grave, for, as he -confided to Mr Hicks, he felt he had been very near death. In the -narrow passage he had reached, the torrent took a downward course, and -above the rush of the current he believed he could distinguish the -roar of water falling from a great height. What fate could be more -awful than a plunge over a subterranean cataract, to be dashed and -beaten and choked to death in the bowels of the earth? No attempt was -made to penetrate farther, but there were some gruesome experiments to -be conducted with the carcases of goats, in order to ascertain whether -a body thrown into the river here could possibly reappear below -Drinitza. The result, it may be mentioned, was of a negative -character. Two of the carcases were actually found the next day in the -river above Novigrad, but the rest were never seen again, so that the -experiment proved little, either as to the body of the unfortunate -Paschics or the still unknown fate of Count Mortimer. - - - - - CHAPTER XIX. - A CHANCE WORD. - -The result of Queen Ernestine’s journey to Kaufenhafen was in one -respect satisfactory, although it threw no light upon the mystery of -her husband’s fate. The Emperor of Scythia received her kindly, and -pledged his imperial word that neither he nor his ministers had had -any hand in Count Mortimer’s disappearance, nor had they the slightest -idea where he was at present. No reference was made to the Zionist -plot, and the Emperor did not express any disapprobation of Cyril’s -late political activity, which, said Prince Soudaroff when he heard of -the interview, was a clear waste of a heaven-sent opportunity. Even if -the Emperor did know nothing about Cyril, he might surely have -dissembled his ignorance, and obtained some useful pledges from the -Queen by means of vague promises and hinted hopes. But the whole -subject of the interview amused Prince Soudaroff extremely, and he -confided his _bon mot_ respecting the “Prince of the Captivity” so -freely to the two or three kindred souls he contrived to gather round -him even at Geneva, that it was repeated all over Europe before the -end of the week. It was generally added, and the addition may also -have been due to the kindred souls, that the Emperor had been wise in -asserting his Chancellor’s non-participation in the _affaire Mortimer_ -before, and not after, questioning the Chancellor himself on the -subject. - -Heart-sick from her failure, the Queen was driven almost mad by the -accounts which reached her from Illyria of the discovery of Paschics’s -body and the abortive search at Bagnanera. Fresh confusion had been -imported into the matter by a surgeon of high reputation for whom Usk -had telegraphed to the capital of the province, for he certified that -the bruises on the body had been caused before death, and could not, -therefore, be the result of a buffeting in the subterranean river. -Anxious to examine into the mystery herself, and also pay the last -tribute of gratitude to her husband’s faithful servant by attending -his funeral, Queen Ernestine hurried away from Kaufenhafen, only to -fall ill on her journey to Illyria. A nervous fever, brought on by -grief and overstrain, kept her a prisoner at Vindobona, tended by her -aunt Princess Amalie, who was almost as much at home in the sick-room -as at a wedding, and watched over by Lord Caerleon, who had not the -heart to leave her and go on to Novigrad. - -Then, before Prince Soudaroff’s witticism had time to grow stale by -repetition, and when the papers, having made the most of the sensation -afforded by the medical evidence as to the cause of the secretary’s -death, were beginning to hunt for a fresh topic of interest, there -came a rush of events which swept the “Balkan mystery” clean out of -men’s minds. Just at first it was remembered sufficiently for Prince -Soudaroff’s friends to say among themselves, with exquisite glee, that -if he had his secrets from the Emperor, the Emperor clearly kept one -or two things secret from him. But as Prince Soudaroff only looked -wise and said nothing in public, the world in general thought he had -known of the matter all along, little guessing the gnashing of teeth -and tearing of hair which had taken place in certain chancelleries, -that of Scythia not excepted, when the news came. There was a -revolution--the fifth, if minor outbreaks are left out of the -calculation--in Neustria. - -This new revolution was the crowning glory of its kind. Other -revolutions had been bungled at their inception, or had dragged on for -several years before they could fairly be considered successful, but -this one seemed to have been born full-grown. One night Prince -Timoleon Malasorte was a casual sojourner in a Lutetian hotel, so -little thought of as a political personage that the police either were -not aware of his arrival in the forbidden capital, or winked at it. -The next night he was master of the army, and by its means of every -fortress in the country, master of the ecclesiastical system, and -through it of the women of Neustria, master also of the national -purse-strings. The whole thing came about with almost the suddenness -of a transformation scene. It was never known publicly when and how -the idea of the revolution had taken shape, or how long the astutest -minds in Europe had toiled by devious and underground paths to prepare -its way; all that was certain was that one morning the city was white -and purple with unauthorised proclamations, posted in all sorts of -forbidden places. The police tore them down, only to find that -whatever way they turned, fresh bills were posted behind their backs, -and while they did their confused best to keep pace with the -bill-stickers, a drastic “Pride’s Purge” was being administered at the -centre of parliamentary life. The Senate and the Chamber of Deputies -were found to be surrounded by troops, and the alarmed legislators saw -their sacred precincts invaded by armed men, headed by--as it seemed -to their startled eyes--the counterfeit presentment of Timoleon I. -Without giving them time to recover from their surprise, the new -Timoleon informed them that he had assumed the office of Dictator in -order to save the country from the evils menacing it, and announced a -dissolution. Before even the most violent deputy could raise his voice -in protest, soldiers were filing down the alleys between the rows of -seats, and arresting one man here and another there. Those arrested -were taken at once into safe keeping, where they met many of their -friends in other walks of life, who had been apprehended at their -homes or places of business. The city Municipality, indeed, found its -numbers almost complete in this new place of meeting. The whole scheme -could not, naturally, be carried out with the same celerity and -certainty as these preliminary steps, and in the streets of Lutetia -there were a number of spasmodic attempts to erect barricades. But -Prince Timoleon and his supporters were not men to be trifled with; -troops had been posted at strategic points throughout the whole city, -and there were cannon ready wherever they were likely to be needed. In -these circumstances the barricade-builders found it well to carry back -into the houses the bedding and furniture they had requisitioned, to -restore the overturned cabs to their normal position, and even to lay -down again the torn-up paving-stones. In the more respectable portions -of the city no opposition was offered to the new rule. The better -class of people were so sick of their late government, so weary of a -long succession of mediocrities diversified by knaves, that they were -ready to welcome any change that promised stability and some measure -of relief from corruption, and above all, they hailed the advent of a -man--a commanding personality who would not only command but be -obeyed. The priests headed processions of their flocks to take the -oath of allegiance to the new government, and--surest sign of the -strength that lay behind the movement--the credit of the country rose -higher than before, and the Dictator had no difficulty in obtaining -money. In all the larger provincial towns a similar change of affairs -had taken place, and each town saw that the district round it followed -its example. The rural inhabitants submitted to the altered conditions -quite philosophically. They had always been of the opinion that they -lived in the worst possible world for honest people, so that it was -clear they could not become worse off. There was some fear lest the -sacred names which had been handed down from the days of the first -revolution should be lost to sight, and an absolutist empire, -supported, as it was now currently believed this new enterprise had -been throughout, on one side by the Jews and on the other by the -Jesuits, be set up. But the Dictator was too wise for this. The -proclamation which he issued on the night of his triumph, dated from -the Presidential palace (which the former occupant had quitted in -haste and without much reluctance), was a model in its way. After a -short sketch of Roman history, appropriate to the occasion, Prince -Timoleon called the nation to witness that he had been welcomed as the -saviour of society by the whole people, and established at the head of -the government with scarcely the shedding of a drop of blood. There -was the inevitable reference to the deeds, sacrifices, and triumphs of -his ancestors; but with touching modesty and fairness Timoleon -Lucanor, Prince-Dictator, concluded by saying that he proposed -immediately to take a _plébiscite_ of the whole nation on the -question of reviving the imperial form of government in Neustria. This -clinched matters. Timoleon Lucanor trusted the people. - -When the great news was flashed over the wires from Neustria to -Illyria, and the flock of newspaper correspondents which had settled -upon the country round Novigrad, like rooks upon a ploughed field, -pocketed their notebooks and their fountain-pens, and took the -quickest way back to Europe, they were followed also by all the -detectives who had been engaged in the search for Cyril. Curiously -enough, as it seemed to Usk and Helene, these men all saw in the -Neustrian revolution a chance of exercise for their peculiar talents, -and no bribe would induce them to remain. Consequently, to continue -the investigation of the mystery there were only Mr Hicks, still -pursuing his inquiries in the Bagnanera district, the Chevalier -Goldberg, who was called away every few days to Vindobona on business -of European importance, but returned doggedly to Novigrad when it was -settled, and the two young people at Drinitza, who were now absolutely -at a loss, and could not even think of anything more that might be -done. They made long driving excursions, during which Helene was duly -tutored in the use of the reins, and which were always made the -occasion of questioning any country-people who might be met on the -road, and they wandered through the beech-forests on the Pelenko -estate, and invented wonderful series of events which might happen, to -crown all their work and anxiety with success, if only some clue would -opportunely show itself. But in the minds of both there was surely -growing up the conviction, hateful and long resisted, that the black -pool in the cave at Bagnanera held the clue to the secret. - -Riding back to the inn one day from Novigrad, tired and dusty, and -perhaps a little cross, Usk caught sight of Helene talking to a lady -on the terrace. The lady’s face was not familiar to him, and there was -something about her look and dress which made him think she was not -likely to be an acquaintance of the Schwarzwald-Molzau family, but -Helene was so deeply engrossed in listening to her that she had not -even heard him ride up. - -“Who is the lady talking to Lady Usk?” he asked of the landlord, who -came out to take his horse. - -The old man looked embarrassed. “It is a Scythian lady, honourable -sir, who has driven out to see the glen. Her name is--at least she -calls herself--Mlle. Garanine.” - -“Tania Garanine--the actress?” cried Usk. - -“I know, honourable sir. She is not suitable company for the gracious -lady, but what could I do? It was not for me to----” - -Usk had left him, and was hastening round the corner of the house. As -he reached the terrace, however, he saw the stranger already -descending the steps to her carriage. She glanced over her shoulder at -him--he noticed that her eyelids were artificially darkened--and -laughed gaily when she saw his angry face. In a moment she was driving -away, kissing her finger-tips lightly to Helene. The action raised -Usk’s wrath to white heat. - -“How dare you take up that woman?” he demanded fiercely of Helene. -“Surely your own self-respect ought to have kept you from speaking to -her.” - -“I thought she wasn’t very nice,” murmured Helene, gazing at him with -dilated eyes. “Her hair was such a strange colour--I think it must be -false--and her skin looked--oh, so _dead_ when she came close. But she -sat down here by me, and talked.” - -“She’s one of the most notorious women in Europe,” fumed Usk, “and now -she’ll spread it abroad that you have noticed her and received her, -and what will your people think of me for letting you do it?” - -“But you couldn’t help it, nor could I,” pleaded Helene. - -“Why didn’t you get rid of her, when you saw the kind of woman she -was? I thought exalted persons like you always knew how to dispose of -people who tried to force themselves upon your notice?” - -“I don’t know how to be rude,” said Helene, with heightened colour. -“No one who was unfit to speak to me has ever been allowed to come -near me before.” - -“That’s a nasty one for me!” said Usk, whose wrath was beginning to -evaporate. - -“Oh, Nym, I am so sorry; I didn’t mean it. And see, I will tell you -how it was that I felt obliged to listen to her. I didn’t dare even to -try to cut her short, lest I should lose something important. She -talked about the dear Count.” - -“I might have known it! More lies, I suppose?” - -“I don’t know; I suppose so, I hope so. She said, just as Cousin -Ottilie did, that he had gone away of his own accord, but--I couldn’t -quite understand--I think she wanted to make me believe that she was -the lady Prince Pelenko said he saw in the carriage with him. At -least, she talked as if she knew him quite well, and could tell us -where he was now, and she said such horrible things. I don’t know -whether she only suggested them, or really said they had happened, but -I know she hinted that the Count had--had got rid of poor M. Paschics -because he knew too much, and he had no more money with which to keep -his mouth shut. And she talked about a gay life among the islands -somewhere, and then she spoke just as if the dear Count was mad, and -told me a dreadful story about some one she knew once who had spent -all his money, and was found by his relations, quite by chance, in a -refuge for lunatics somewhere near Trieste. She said they had -advertised for him everywhere, but he had forgotten his own name, and -it was only because his nephew happened to catch sight of him that he -was recognised. Do you think--she could mean--that the dear Count is -in one of those terrible places?” - -Usk pondered a moment. “No; I don’t!” he cried suddenly. “They want to -get us out of the neighbourhood, Nell, that’s it! Now that Malasorte -has made his _coup d’état_, they see through the bogus plot, and they -want to undo their work, if they can. I’m certain they have him hidden -somewhere near--in a cave or something of that kind--and find they -can’t get him out of the country without our knowing. We’ll stick on -here and tire them out. To-morrow I’ll go over and bring Hicks back -with me, if I have to drag him by main force. If the whole crew know -he’s on our side I don’t care. He’s the man to smell them out.” - -“How clever you are, Nym! I never thought that it might be a trick. I -do wish I was older, and--and----” - -“Wiser?” suggested Usk. - -“Yes, wiser, and able to give you good advice.” - -“Thanks; I’d just as soon not. I probably shouldn’t take it, you -know.” - -“Oh, Nym, I wish you wouldn’t laugh. I want to be a better wife to -you.” - -“You’re tons too good as it is, so don’t get any better. Was I awfully -down on you just now about that Garanine woman, Nell? I didn’t mean -it, but you must learn to protect yourself, you know. Just say, ‘I was -a silly little idiot, and I’ll never do it again.’” - -Helene repeated the words with admirable docility. “But I do wish I -could think of clever and useful things like you,” she added with a -sigh. - - -When Usk betook himself to Bagnanera the next day, he left Helene -listless and unhappy. The actress’s words had affected her more than -she knew, and the vision of Cyril, nameless and robbed of everything, -in a pauper lunatic asylum, was constantly before her eyes. The -prospect of spending the whole day alone, since ten hours at least -must elapse before Usk could return, if he was to bring Mr Hicks with -him, was terrible, for she could think of nothing but that vision. At -last she took herself resolutely in hand, determining to set to work -at something that would occupy her thoughts. She would spend the day -in the beech-woods, and make a sketch for her mother, setting herself -the task of finishing it at a sitting. Telling Jakob that she would -need his attendance, she went to her room to get out her colour-box. -Hannele, who was mending a torn gown, was pleased to approve of her -intention. Sketching was a lady-like and elegant accomplishment -(provided the sketcher took care not to sit on the grass), and far -more suited to the daughter of a princely house than tearing about -over the country with a husband as thoughtless as herself. Helene felt -that the rebuke was not undeserved, for she had torn the gown -disgracefully in scrambling through a thicket with Usk, and she did -not venture to suggest that it might be discarded, although Hannele, -in her huge spectacles, had the half-resentful, half-triumphant aspect -of an unwilling martyr. Hannele was grumbling monotonously on, -therefore, when Helene silenced her suddenly by an imperative gesture. -Standing near the window, she had been half-unconsciously aware that -two Englishmen who had spent the night at the inn were discussing the -views as they breakfasted on the terrace, but now her full attention -was aroused by hearing the name of Shishman Pelenko mentioned. - -“Queer thing that we should have come straight from Shishman Pelenko -to his ancestral halls,” one man had said. - -“Would it be well to call? The place looks inhabited.” - -“I think not. We know that Shishman isn’t there, and though he’s a -good sort, his elder brother is a queer lot, I believe.” - -Helene dropped her paint-box, and running down the stairs, presented -herself suddenly before the astonished tourists. - -“I must ask you to excuse me for disturbing you,” she said, with the -little air of dignity which sat so oddly and yet so well on her, “but -I think I heard you mention the name of Prince Shishman Pelenko? He is -a kind of relation of ours--at least, he is the cousin of a -cousin--and his movements have--have puzzled us a little of late.” Was -this untrue? she wondered uncomfortably. - -“He is an erratic fellow,” said the elder of the two Englishmen--they -had both risen politely when she addressed them, “but I am glad to be -able to assure you that he was all right ten days ago, Fräulein. We -have been mountaineering with him in the Caucasus for more than two -months, and though he has had several hairbreadth escapes, he’s as fit -as he can be.” - -“We heard a rumour--about a duel,” hazarded Helene. - -“He has had no opportunity of fighting a duel for three months at -least, madame”--the speaker had caught sight of the wedding-ring on -Helene’s finger. “Indeed, I know, for he told me himself, that his -last duel happened quite three years ago.” - -“Thank you. You have relieved my mind very much,” said Helene simply, -but she returned into the house with slow, dragging steps. Was her -mind relieved, or was it oppressed with a new and vague anxiety? -Prince Shishman Pelenko had never been in the neighbourhood at all; -his duel, his remorse, his flight from society, were all alike -inventions of the Scythian Chancellor’s fertile brain. But if he had -not been occupying the Pelenko mansion, then who was the recluse -there, who never walked beyond the garden, whom no one in Drinitza had -seen? Conviction forced itself upon Helene. The Princess of Dardania’s -apparently purposeless display of Prince Valerian’s letter, the visit -and the glib falsehoods of Prince Soudaroff, the strange hints of -Tania Garanine--all pointed to one fact and one alone. Cyril was -imprisoned down there in the Pelenko mansion, and Helene could take no -steps to rescue him for a whole day. The idea was intolerable. She -must at any rate try to find out whether she was right--and in a -moment she saw how this might be done. Only once had she and Usk -approached the great house closely in their walks, and then they had -noticed a corner of the garden wall where a tree, growing against the -masonry, had forced the lower courses out of position, and dislodged -the upper stones. Usk had remarked that it was a standing invitation -to burglars, and now she would play burglar. - -Her face was flushed with excitement when she entered her room again, -and she gathered her paint-brushes together with shaking hands. She -could think of nothing but her scheme, and did not at first perceive -that Hannele was grumbling still. - -“Going out alone on the public terrace and speaking to two -strangers--Englishmen, too, who have no reverence or good manners! -That was not the way your august parents taught you to behave, -Highness. And asking after a young rip of a Scythian captain as if -life and death hung upon it! What’s Prince Shishman Pelenko to your -Highness, I should like to know? I wonder what your noble husband will -think when he hears?” - -This it was which reached Helene’s ears at last. She turned angrily -upon the woman. “Silence, Hannele!” she said, with a decision Hannele -had never seen in her before. “I justify myself to my husband, not to -you.” - -Leaving the maid crushed but indignant, she quitted the room with her -painting materials. Jakob was in waiting, with her camp-stool and -umbrella, and they climbed to the top of the hill, and plunged into -the beech-woods on the other side. When Helene was as near the Pelenko -mansion as seemed prudent, she chose a spot in a long grassy glade, -bordered on either side by huge trees which were beginning to show the -first touch of autumn, and set to work with uncertain fingers, -wondering how long it would be before Jakob went to sleep. She had -decided not to make him a partner in her enterprise. For one thing, -there might be danger for him where a girl would pass unscathed; and -again, he would be very likely to presume upon his long service with -her family to prevent her doing anything. It seemed to her that her -henchman was provokingly wakeful to-day. Generally it needed but a few -minutes to set him propped against the trunk of a tree, slumbering -peacefully, with his mouth as wide open as if he wished the squirrels -to drop beech-nuts into it. But on this occasion it almost seemed that -he must have been making resolutions against his drowsiness, so -unwinkingly watchful did he remain. Helene thought hours must be -passing before his rigid frame relaxed, and his grey head dropped -gently back against the tree. When at last he was undoubtedly asleep, -she tore out a leaf of her sketch-book, wrote on it in pencil, “I am -going to seek another view. I will return here,” and laid it near him -with a stone upon it to keep it from blowing away. Then she stole -noiselessly past him, and made sure that the tree was between him and -herself before she ventured to turn in the direction of the house. She -was not long in reaching the corner of the wall, and although it was -harder to climb than she had expected, she succeeded in getting over. -Inside the wall was a thick belt of shrubbery, so wild and unkempt -that it might almost be called a wood, and with beating heart she -forced her way through this. There was a clear space in front, she -saw, and presently she reached its edge. Crouching down and peering -through the bushes, she found that she was close to the house, which -looked much less imposing near at hand than from a distance. -Originally a pretentious building of the sham classical style dear to -the heart of the Europeanised Illyrian, with a good deal of ornamental -work in plaster about it, it was now little better than a ruin. Great -masses of the balustrading had fallen from the edge of the roof, the -walls were cracked in many places, and there were only a few remnants -of glass left in the windows. The garden was utterly neglected. Grass -was springing up between the stones of the paved pathways, and the -water in the large square tank was foul and choked with weed, above -which the melancholy fragments of a broken fountain reared themselves. -It was evident that whatever debts Prince Valerian Pelenko had -contracted in Europe, he had not spent the money on his family seat. - -As Helene peeped through the bushes, a slight movement attracted her -attention to two persons whom she had not at first noticed--an old -man, sitting on a stone seat beside the tank, in the shade of a clump -of overgrown myrtles, and a servant, like his master in European -dress, lounging against the wall of the house a little behind him. The -picture was so pathetic that Helene felt the tears rise to her -eyes--the old man sitting there among the ruined glories of his house, -his gaze fixed on the dull stagnant waters of the tank. But there was -a rustling in the bushes behind her; and turning her head, she saw -that a huge fellow in the gorgeous Dardanian dress, his sash bristling -with knives and pistols, had tracked her through the wood, and was now -within a few feet of her, his cruel eyes gleaming in his fierce face. -With a shrill scream she threw herself wildly forward, hoping to find -safety in the company of the musing old man, but her foot caught in a -briar, and she felt her pursuer’s great hand upon her throat. Her -scream had aroused the two occupants of the garden, however, and she -saw the old man look round. - -“What is it that Danilo has found in the shrubbery--a child?” he asked -the servant in French, and bewildered and shaken as Helene was, it -seemed to her that the voice was familiar. The servant’s reply was -inaudible, but she heard the old man say sharply, “Bring her to me, -and I will reprove her. I will not have children mauled by these rough -fellows.” - -Helene’s captor released her reluctantly as the servant approached, -but it appeared to her that the new-comer helped her up with equal -reluctance, and cursed her under his breath. He gave the Dardanian -some direction in his own language as he led Helene to his master, but -she had no time to think what the words might mean, for it was Cyril -who sat on the stone bench--Cyril whose clear blue eyes met hers -without a trace of recognition. For a moment she was staggered--it -could not be Cyril--but even before he spoke again she had no doubt. -Old and white-haired and broken, this was the man to whom her childish -devotion had been given. - -“Do you know, young lady, that you are a trespasser?” he asked her in -French. “Doubtless you found your way in by the little door in the -wall?” Helene opened her lips to deny this, but he went on without -giving her time to speak. “I know one of the servants was going into -the town, and they are careless about the door. But you would hardly -have gratified your curiosity by entering if you had known that my -seclusion here is a matter of life and death.” - -Helene gazed at him, unable to speak, and he went on. - -“Probably you are unaware that my life is perpetually in danger? You -know my name--Shishman Pelenko? But you will not have heard that my -steps are continually dogged by hired ruffians. I can’t quite remember -why it is--it happened a long time ago--but I am not safe except -within these walls and under the protection of my faithful servants. -This is Dr Gregorescu, my medical attendant”--he indicated a lithe -dark-bearded man who had come up with a cat-like swiftness and -softness of tread--“who is good enough to live here with me and watch -over my health. My life may not be of much value to the world, but it -has still some little charm for myself, and some value for my few -friends, I think?” He looked round waggishly at Dr Gregorescu, and -laughed--a foolish crackling laugh. - -“Your life is most valuable to your friends, Highness,” replied the -doctor, not smiling in return, but piercing Helene with his black -eyes, “and I fear this young lady’s entrance here may endanger it.” - -“Oh, nonsense! she is only a child, and what can she tell the ruffians -outside but that I am well guarded? Desire the ruffians on our side to -show themselves, if you please.” - -“The young lady will be frightened,” objected the doctor. - -“All the better for her--teach her a lesson,” was the testy answer. -“What, am I to command twice?” he rattled his stick on the stones. “I -wish my guard to be visible for an instant.” - -For the moment Helene felt like Fitz-James at the instant of his -introduction to Roderick Dhu, for at the word of command, reluctantly -uttered by Dr Gregorescu, the belt of shrubbery seemed to be suddenly -alive with stalwart Dardanians. They sprang up from their lairs in the -underwood or started out from behind trees, and stood in full view for -a moment, then, at a wave of the doctor’s hand, disappeared again, -while the self-styled Prince Shishman improved the occasion. - -“You have seen how thoroughly I am protected, young lady,” he said -impressively. “Now I do not think, from your face, that you are in the -pay of my cruel enemies outside, but if you should be questioned, you -may say that these faithful fellows, all trained fighters from their -cradles, keep guard over me day and night, and would rejoice at the -chance of a fight. You may say also that Dr Gregorescu and the indoor -servants are well armed, and that there are underground----” - -“Is not your Highness afraid of giving publicity to the exact details -of our defences?” asked the doctor smoothly, and Cyril nodded. - -“You do well to remind me of prudence, Gregorescu. But I think the -young lady, at any rate, will not penetrate within our walls again, -for she will remember that to do so would cause great anxiety and pain -of mind to a cruelly persecuted man. If you will be good enough to -send for the key of the small gate, we will let her out, and see that -the door is properly fastened.” - -“Pray don’t trouble yourself, Highness,” said Dr Gregorescu hastily. -“I will conduct the young lady to the gate.” - -“No, Gregorescu. It is not that I distrust your vigilance, but I must -satisfy myself that the gate is properly locked. It is a perfect -nightmare to me. I am thinking of having it bricked up.” - -The doctor offered no further objection, and Helene was conducted to -the gate in solemn procession. Cyril bade her a lofty farewell, the -bolts grated home, and, dazed and bewildered, she found herself -outside. - - - - - CHAPTER XX. - FOILED. - -For a moment Helene stood irresolute, unable to realise her -position. Then the nearness of the fierce Dardanians and the still -more terrible doctor occurred to her, and she walked away with -tottering steps. Fear drove her on, for even when she had plunged into -the wood, she thought she heard the bushes crackling behind her, and -she could not feel safe until she came upon Jakob once more. The quiet -glade, with the old man still snoring peacefully under his tree, -seemed a haven of refuge, and she staggered towards him, her knees -knocking together, and collapsed helplessly on the ground. The gasping -sobs which she could not repress awoke Jakob, who was much concerned -to find her in such a state. She would not tell him what had alarmed -her, and as Jakob was firmly under the impression that he had only -dozed off for a second or two, he attributed her fright to a snake, -and expended much energy in beating about among the tree-roots and -last year’s dead leaves with a stick. He found nothing, naturally, and -seeing that Helene was quite incapable of going on with her sketch, -suggested that they should return to the inn, lest Hannele should -scold him for allowing her Highness to sit on the ground. There were -unmistakable marks of mould on Helene’s linen skirt, which meant a -cross-examination from Hannele, and in desperation she stood up, -supporting herself against a tree, while Jakob removed the stains as -well as he could with his handkerchief and the water he had carried -for her painting. - -“There, Highness!” he said at last, looking up with honest pride. “It -will dry before we reach home, and Hannele will be none the wiser.” - -“Thanks, Jakob,” his mistress answered absently. “Do you know whether -the two English gentlemen who were on the terrace this morning are -staying another night?” - -“Their horses were being saddled when we started, Highness,” replied -Jakob, with placid indifference. “There is nothing to see at Drinitza -except the river-cave, so why should they stay?” - -Helene’s heart sank. For a moment the wild idea of rescuing Cyril -immediately had occurred to her. Usk was away, and William with him, -but surely those two Englishmen might be depended upon to help another -Englishman? Now that hope was gone; and with deeper sinking of heart -she remembered that the Chevalier had started on one of his periodical -journeys to Vindobona, so that it would be no use to send in to -Novigrad. There was the landlord, at any rate, an old soldier, and -there were two or three men employed about the inn, and several strong -fellows in the village, and there was Jakob, who might be trusted to -follow her leading--but was it right, was it even prudent, to oppose -these men, practically unarmed, to the Dardanians, each of whom was a -kind of walking arsenal? She turned the matter over in her mind as -they walked back to the inn, and at last decided to lay it before the -landlord, and see what he thought. But disappointment was awaiting her -when she arrived, for the landlord had gone into Novigrad for the day. - -This last blow was too much for Helene, and she resigned herself -meekly into the hands of Hannele, who had brooded over her mistress’s -sharp words all the time of her absence, and now had the additional -grievance of her evident exhaustion to gratify her. She took -peremptory possession of Helene, removed her gown and shoes, fed her -with soup, and made her lie down, scolding all the time, and having -adjured her to go to sleep, went away to scold Jakob. - -Helene had yielded to her ministrations and reproaches because she had -no spirit to resist; but the moment the door had closed behind the -maid her head started up from the pillow. She could not think properly -lying down, and that great guarded house in the forest seemed to be -crying out to her to do something. What should she do? what could she -do? The memory of that helpless prisoner, who did not even realise -that he was in prison, drew her back to the Pelenko mansion as though -with cords. If only she had made herself known to him, spoken to him -in English, addressed him by his own name, surely recollection would -have returned to the dulled brain? And she had remained speechless, -not uttering a word, terror and astonishment holding her so fast in -their grip that she had made no use whatever of this tremendous -opportunity! How could she meet Usk and Mr Hicks, who had dared so -much for Cyril’s rescue without result, if she had to confess to them -that she had been face to face with him and had not even spoken? - -The thought was intolerable, and in a moment she was out of bed and -throwing on the pink cotton gown which Hannele had finished mending, -and had left prominently on the back of a chair as if to reproach her. -Too much engrossed in her quest to think of her own dignity, she crept -down the stairs with her shoes in her hand, and once safely past the -room in which she could hear Hannele’s voice rating Jakob, put them -on, and turned into the path which led up the hill. At the summit she -paused, breathless, and put on her gloves. There was absolutely no -reason why she should feel so frightened, as if she were doing -something dreadful. Why should she not go out for a walk alone if she -chose? She was an Englishwoman now, and Usk had often laughed at her -because she disliked to go down the street without Hannele or Jakob in -attendance. She was simply taking an afternoon walk, and what possible -objection could there be to her going round by the Pelenko mansion? -She did not even know that she should try to obtain entrance to the -grounds--certainly not by that dreadful corner, which the Dardanian -who had watched her must know well, if Cyril did not--but it might -save time later if she walked round the place and looked carefully to -see if there was any other way of getting in. As if to emphasise to -herself the perfect propriety and openness of her intentions, she did -not take the usual way through the forest, but went straight down to -the high road, and walked along it in a westerly direction until she -could see the battered chimneys of the house rising above the -encircling trees. She shivered as she turned into the rugged lane, -miscalled a road, which led up to the gates, and her eyes sought -narrowly among the undergrowth on either hand for the brightness and -glitter of the Dardanian dress. There seemed to be no one lying in -wait just here, however, and she went on to the gates, which had -always been fast shut when Usk and she had caught a glimpse of them -hitherto. A gasp of astonishment broke from her when she reached them. -On this day, of all days, they were open, as if to invite her to -enter. - -“It is a miracle!” thought Helene reverently; “a sign, perhaps, that -the good God will allow me to do something to help the dear Count,” -and with a prayer on her lips she passed fearlessly in. The drive -which led through the thick shrubbery was as rough and full of ruts as -the lane outside--nay, the shrubbery was encroaching upon it, for -bushes were springing up among the weeds which concealed the gravel. -As she neared the house, however, she heard the pawing of impatient -horses, and thought it prudent to creep into the wood. Reaching the -end of the drive, and peeping through the branches, she saw to her -amazement a carriage, laden with luggage, standing before the door. -Several of the Dardanians were at work adjusting the various packages, -and others were lounging about in front of the house. Presently Cyril -appeared on the steps, and for one moment she thought he had seen her, -for his eyes seemed to meet hers, but he turned to send his servant -back for something, and, without looking at her, began to wave and -twist his hands about in a way that appeared to her woefully aimless -and imbecile. Apparently impatient of the delay, he entered the -carriage after a moment or two, and drawing up the window nearest her, -proceeded to trace figures of some sort listlessly upon the glass with -his finger. To Helene, as she watched, it looked as if he had written -the word “Not,” but she could not be sure, since she naturally saw it -backwards, as if reflected in a mirror. Before he could get any -further, Dr Gregorescu came quickly down the steps, and apologising -for being late, stepped into the carriage. Helene watched breathlessly -to see what would happen next; but just as one of the Dardanians -mounted the box, something was flung over her from behind, and she -felt herself pulled down among the bushes. - -It was no use to struggle, and she could not cry out. She was held -down firmly, and the cloak, or whatever the covering might be, was -pressed tightly over her face. She had almost lost consciousness when -the pressure was relaxed, and she lay helpless and motionless until -she felt some one shaking her by the shoulder, and heard a voice -speaking in an unknown tongue. She looked up into the sunken eyes of -an old woman, who was holding in one hand the rough woollen cloak -which had served as a gag. The stranger was blaming her for venturing -into such a place, Helene gathered, and warning her that if she had -been discovered, her life would have been the forfeit. Realising the -old woman’s meaning, she remembered suddenly all that had passed, and -springing up, she peered through the bushes again. The carriage and -its attendants were gone, and the crushed weeds in the drive showed -where it had passed. She turned to run after it, but the old woman -caught her by the arm, and intimated by signs that it was travelling -so fast she would never catch it. Resorting to signs in her turn, -Helene did her best to inquire whether the old woman could take her by -a short cut through the forest to the road, that she might see what -direction the carriage was taking, but the old woman expressed the -most lively fear at the prospect, moderating her gestures, however, -when she saw Helene put her hand into her pocket. It was not often -that the girl carried a purse, for there was nothing to buy at -Drinitza, and she rather liked making Usk pay everything for her when -they went into Novigrad, but it was well to have a little loose change -at hand ready for going into the village, on account of the beggars. -If the beggars were not duly noticed and relieved, they were apt to -curse the passer-by, and Helene had a nervous dislike of being cursed. -Her purse happened fortunately to be in the pocket of the pink gown, -and she emptied the store of small coins it contained into the old -woman’s hand, with the result that the owner grinned widely, and made -signs indicative of her willingness to start at once. - -They crept down the drive again, and once outside the gate, plunged -into the forest to the right, avoiding the lane, and very soon found -themselves mounting a steep slope. This part of the woods Helene had -not explored with Usk, and she was therefore obliged to rely entirely -on the old woman, who hobbled along, helping herself up the steepest -places by clutching at the bushes, with wonderful agility. On they -went, now up and now down, through such mazes of forest that Helene -decided she must come back by the road, or she would never be able to -find her way home by herself. Moreover, as the first excitement of the -chase died down, she became conscious that she had gone through a good -deal since first starting out that morning, and that her limbs, -shaking with fatigue and agitation, would scarcely carry her. But she -struggled on bravely, and at last the old woman stopped on the very -brink of what seemed to be a wooded cliff, and pointing straight -downwards, said something which Helene took to mean that the road was -there. - -The declivity was not quite so steep as it looked, but Helene soon -found that it was impossible to walk down it. The only plan was to run -whenever a clear space appeared, bringing up against a friendly tree -when she was out of breath, and then picking her way slowly from one -trunk to another. It was natural that she should run faster than the -old woman, and therefore it did not surprise her to find herself in -front; but when she reached the foot of the cliff, and discovered that -her companion had not followed her, and she was all alone, it struck -her that she had been rather shabbily treated. She sat down, -thankfully enough, upon a fallen tree, keeping in the shade so that -her light dress might not attract attention, and with her eyes fixed -upon the stretch of road to the left, waited patiently. This was a -part of the road that she and Usk had never reached, even in their -drives, and she felt sure that she must be a good deal in advance of -the carriage, which had to follow the many windings necessary for the -maintenance of a comparatively slight gradient. For a time she was so -glad to rest that she thought of nothing but the relief to her tired -feet, but after a while it occurred to her that the afternoon was -wearing away, and that she had a very long distance to walk home. -Moreover, the road was lonely. Not a creature had passed while she sat -on the log, and there was no sign of a human habitation anywhere. The -best plan would certainly be to walk back towards Drinitza, and so -meet the mysterious carriage. On that quiet road she would hear it -coming a long way off, and be able to hide in the wood until it had -passed. Or perhaps it might not pass at all--which was a contingency -that had not occurred to her before--but in that case she would know -that it had taken the only other direction possible, the road leading -to Klotsch, so that her walk would not have been in vain. - -Rising from the log, she turned to the left, in the direction, as she -had never doubted, of Drinitza, and set out boldly along the road. -Before she had gone far, however, it struck her that the sun, now -approaching its setting, should have been behind her, instead of which -it was in front. - -“How stupid I am!” she said wearily, beginning to retrace her steps. -“My head is so confused that I was actually going the wrong way. And -yet I don’t see how--but it’s no good trying to work it out now. I -must simply go on.” - -On and on she went, still without recognising any familiar landmark, -until she was too tired to look at anything but the long white ribbon -of road which seemed to unfold itself endlessly before her. At last -the growing dusk made her lift her eyes to the sky again, and there -was the sun, now sinking behind the hills, in front of her once more! -The truth flashed upon her. The unfamiliar scenery was accounted for. -She had been right at first, but at that point the road doubled back -upon itself, in order to skirt the base of the cliff she had -descended, so that for a little while its direction was actually west -instead of east. But at the end of the turn she would have found -herself looking eastwards again, whereas now she had been walking away -from home with every step she took. - -For the moment Helene was overwhelmed. She could never walk back to -Drinitza now, she knew, and she was utterly alone, in a district which -did not seem to possess a single inhabitant. Tired and cold, and faint -with hunger, she sat down by the roadside and cried weakly. Unless -another miracle occurred to help her, she must spend the night where -she was, and even in the morning Usk would have no means of knowing -where to look for her. But again she saw a miracle in what followed -close upon the despairing little prayer she sent up. From the forest -behind her came the lively sound of ungreased waggon-wheels, faint at -first in the distance, but gradually increasing in nearness and -excruciating distinctness. A vehicle of some kind was jolting over a -rough forest-track, and presently she could hear the ejaculations -addressed by the driver to his oxen. So comforting was the knowledge -that a fellow-creature was at hand, that she ran forward impulsively -as the heads of the oxen appeared, but the driver was far too busy to -notice her until he had safely manœuvred his team and the long rough -waggon, laden with wood, from the side-track into the main road. Then -he seemed suddenly to become aware that he had heard a human voice, -and he looked down from his stately height--he was a huge -Dardanian--to see a little pale girl, in dusty and draggled European -dress, weeping bitterly, and sobbing forth entreaties in two or three -languages. It was well for Helene that her giant was better-tempered -than giants are generally supposed to be, and kind-hearted as well, -for although he could not understand either French, German, or -English, and shook his head vigorously when she tried to explain that -she wanted to get back to Drinitza, he offered her a seat on the wood -in his waggon, and actually lifted her up there when she hesitated. -She made no further opposition after that. Where he might be taking -her, she had no idea, but presumably it was to his home, and possibly -to some place where she might find the means of communicating with -Usk. - -The oxen tramped on patiently, and the waggon began to jolt again as -the road became worse, but Helene dozed spasmodically on her rough -couch. It was not until the waggon came to a standstill that she -really awoke, to find herself in the one street of a little Dardanian -frontier village, the white walls and dark roofs of which were -glorious in the after-glow of sunset, and made a kind of theatrical -background for the gigantic men and strapping women in red and blue -and gold-embroidered white garments who were crowding round to hear of -the strange adventure which had happened to Petros. Before Helene was -fairly awake, the smallest man in the crowd asked her in broken German -for her papers, and it was evident that a bad impression was produced -by her confession that she had none. The small man had something to do -with the customs, apparently, for she gathered from the -cross-examination which followed that he suspected her of smuggling, -though it was not clear what she had to smuggle, with the exception of -her worn and weary self. Moreover, he fastened upon her statement that -her husband was English as his own excuse for not understanding her -German, and they argued at cross-purposes for some time, while the -listening villagers made remarks that were evidently uncomplimentary -in their nature. To Helene’s horror, he succeeded at last in making it -plain that she would be detained for the night as a suspicious -character in the hut in which the customs business was carried on; and -already she saw herself led to prison before the eyes of the crowd of -curious villagers, and locked up hungry and tired, and, above all, -alone. In despair, she turned to the tallest man in the crowd, who -also seemed to hold some position of authority, and fortunately -remembering the word used by the Dardanians to designate their ruler, -did her best to explain that the Prince was her cousin, and would hold -the villagers responsible for their treatment of her. She could not be -sure that she was really understood, but the people seemed to be -impressed, and the tall man and the small man consulted together. -Presently she distinguished a sound sufficiently like the Illyrian -word for “telegraph” to assure her that they were talking of -telegraphing somewhere for directions, and she seized upon the -proposal with almost hysterical joy. - -“Oh, let me telegraph to my husband!” she cried to the little man, -“and just let me rest somewhere till he comes, and he will pay -anything you like.” - -Whether the mention of payment stimulated the official wits, or -whether the man was afraid of getting into trouble through over-zeal, -he appeared to understand and approve of the suggestion. The big man -lifted Helene down from the waggon as if she had been a baby, and -after she had thanked the driver for his kindness, the scene changed -to the post-office, of which the big man was in charge. Here a fresh -difficulty occurred, for Helene had no money, and the simplicity of -modern dress precluded her from resorting to the time-honoured -expedient of offering jewellery in pledge. She had not even a watch -with her, and the postmaster became stern and implacable once more. -The little man came to the rescue by pointing out that she had a gold -ring on her finger, but she pleaded so piteously that she could not -give up her wedding-ring, that matters were at a deadlock again. Then -the postmaster, apparently prompted by his handsome, slipshod wife, -proposed a compromise. He would send the telegram, and wait for the -payment until the morning; but Helene and the ring must remain in -pawn, so to speak, since she would not be separated from it. She -should spend the night in the post-office, which was a lean-to -attached to his own house, and could only be entered through the room -in which he and his family slept; and if there was no answer to the -telegram in the morning, the ring must be given up. There were few -things to which Helene would not have agreed at that moment, and she -wrote out the telegram, surrounded by the eager and curious circle of -villagers, all bristling with weapons. She wrote it in German, as the -customs-officer’s help would enable the postmaster to make it less -unintelligible in that language than in French or English; and when -the whole assembly had looked at it wisely, heard it translated and -explained, and discussed the meaning, it was allowed to be sent. When, -after a good deal of squabbling between the postmaster and the -customs-officer over the spelling of the words, the message had at -last been despatched, Helene, who had been upheld by her anxiety so -far, staggered forward, and clutching feebly at the office-desk, -slipped to the floor. Instantly the postmaster’s wife, who seemed to -have been severely repressed hitherto by her husband, took possession -of her, and ordered the other villagers out of the room. It was clear -she was saying that whoever the girl might be, she was faint and -exhausted, and should not be tormented any more by stupid -unsympathetic men. Even this good Samaritan could not provide a softer -couch than the bench which ran along one end of the room, but she -brought a sheepskin as a coverlid and a rolled-up apron for a pillow, -and a frugal meal of black bread and milkless tea. She was so -obviously sympathetic and compassionate that Helene kissed her -impulsively as she covered her up, and the Dardanian woman smiled -broadly as she kissed her in return, and patted her shoulder with a -friendly hand as she bade her sleep well and not be frightened. - -The inhabitants of this primitive village appeared all to retire to -rest as soon as darkness came on, so that Helene had enjoyed a long, -dreamless sleep when a furious knocking at the outer door aroused the -household, although dawn was only just breaking. The postmaster was -disinclined to rise, thinking that some impatient neighbour had come -early to inquire for a letter, and that the labours of the department -would be appreciably increased if such proceedings were to be allowed. -But the knocking continued, and a voice shouted something threatening -in an unknown tongue, which was emphasised by vigorous kicks at the -door, and the postmaster’s wife suddenly shrieked a malediction at -him. - -“Fool! pig!” she screamed. “Can’t you hear? It is the little white -lady’s husband. Let him in this minute.” - -The postmaster obeyed, not forgetting to don his beltful of weapons -before he opened the door; and it was with a huge revolver in his hand -that he confronted the young man who entered with a hasty step, but -recoiled abruptly when he met the intent gaze of the rest of the -family, peering at him over their sheepskin coverlids. - -“Where is my wife?” he demanded, holding out a telegram to the -postmaster, then began a hasty apology; but the postmaster saw no need -for shyness. Striding to the door of the office, he threw it open, and -bowing to Usk, invited him to enter, while the wife and children sat -up in bed, their eyes bright with interest. A moment later, when Usk -was sitting on the bench beside Helene, holding her in his arms, and -alternately kissing and scolding her, while she laughed and cried at -once, a murmur of excited admiration drew their attention to the door, -where they beheld the whole family gazing at them open-mouthed. - -“Oh, shut the door!” cried Helene hysterically. “The whole village -will be here in a moment, as they were last night. Oh, Nym, how white -you look!” - -“Considering that we have been riding all night, you can scarcely -expect us to look very blooming. I think you’ve hurried us here on -false pretences, Nell. We couldn’t make head or tail of your telegram, -but we gathered that you were in dire distress, so Hicks and I, with -the landlord and Jakob, mounted and rode to your rescue at once, with -William driving the buggy. We had an awful time of it in the dark, but -we kept on; and now I find you comfortably asleep, and able to -criticise our looks. Do you think that shows proper gratitude, Lady -Usk?” - -“You mustn’t criticise mine,” laughed Helene unsteadily, as she stood -up with difficulty, a forlorn little figure with tumbled hair and -dark-ringed eyes. “Oh, it was so dreadful, Nym! They nearly made me -give them my wedding-ring to pay for the telegram. But they were very -kind afterwards, and it’s all right now.” - -“Well, suppose you put yourself to rights a bit. Hicks is seeing after -breakfast. Will a pocket-comb be of any service to you? And when you -feel quite equal to it--not before, mind, by any means--I should be -interested to know what got you into this fix.” - -Helene, tugging at her hair with the comb, stopped suddenly, and -turned upon him a face full of horror. “Nym, I had forgotten it for -the moment, but it is almost as bad as the worst we have imagined. I -have seen the dear Count twice, and he didn’t know me. He is--mad.” - -“Do you mean that he’s anywhere here?” cried Usk, springing up. - -“No; I lost him again. It was in trying to trace him that I came to -this place. He is under the care of a dreadful doctor, who has a -number of Dardanians to keep guard over him, and he thinks he is -Prince Shishman Pelenko, and that people are plotting against his -life.” - -“Be quick with your hair,” said Usk, “and you can tell Hicks -everything at the same time as me. He may think of something that -ought to be done at once.” - -But when Helene told the story of her doings the day before at the -open-air breakfast table, Mr Hicks was as much at a loss as Usk to -know what to do next, and sat silent and meditative, even while -devouring his food at his usual speed. His experience as a -war-correspondent had taught him never to neglect the chance of a good -meal, and his skill in foraging had succeeded in providing one even in -this unpromising spot. The table, which he had requisitioned from the -custom-house, was placed in the open space in front of the -post-office, the only flat piece of ground in the whole village, -apparently, and the villagers stood round and watched the meal with -much interest. When it was over, Usk held an open-air court of -justice, and prompted by Helene, paid the postmaster for the telegram, -and his wife for the night’s lodging--much to her distress, for she -would only accept the money to buy something for her children. Petros -the waggoner was less diffident, and received his silver with pride, -saying he would give it to his sweetheart to sew on her cap; and the -customs-officer was so anxious to press his own claims to a reward -that Usk at last yielded, advising him to buy a German dictionary. -When this was settled, the horses were brought out again, and the -visitors departed, their hosts speeding them on their way with a -_feu-de-joie_ of revolver-shots, which was gratifying, if a little -alarming. Usk was driving Helene in the buggy, and presently Mr Hicks -rode up close beside them. - -“Lady Usk,” he said, “there’s a question or two I’d like to have you -answer if you don’t mind. You said Count Mortimer was moving his hands -in a queer sort of a way when he stood on the doorstep. Can you show -me just how he did it?” - -“Something like this,” said Helene, imitating the movements as well as -she could remember them. - -“Is that so?” asked Mr Hicks, and nodded gravely. - -“What is it?” asked Helene, alarmed by his tone. - -“The deaf-and-dumb alphabet, I guess, and he’s no more lost his mind -than you and I have.” - -“But he didn’t know me in the least. He could not be in his right -mind.” - -“That’s just his smartness, you bet. He made out to disarm the -suspicions of the folks that have him in charge by pretending not to -recognise you.” - -“Oh, and I didn’t know the alphabet, and now we have lost him again!” -cried Helene. “It’s all my fault. He was trying to tell me something. -Oh, if I had only known!” and she burst into tears. “Perhaps we shall -never see him again.” - -Mr Hicks was thinking deeply. “I guess I’ll ride on ahead,” he said to -Usk. “I don’t see but the notion that’s just come to me may be right. -We know the carriage didn’t pass along this road, and I’ll go on to -Klotsch, and see if it passed there. If not, I’ll get another horse -and ride to Novigrad all I’m worth, and have them give me a warrant, -or police permit, or whatever they call it, to search the Pelenko -house. For if the carriage has not been seen on the road, it seems -clear to me that it just waited around in the woods somewhere while -Lady Usk was got out of the way, and then went right back to the -house. And if the Count is there yet, why----” - -“Underground!” cried Helene. “He began to speak of passages, or -something of that kind.” - -“We’ll see. I’ll ride on, anyway.” - -But Mr Hicks’s haste was in vain. Police assistance was obtained, and -the Pelenko mansion duly searched, the old servants left in charge -showing even the subterranean rooms, which had been constructed in -Roumi days as a refuge in case of need. They knew that the foreign -doctor, and the mad gentleman who imagined himself to be Prince -Shishman, and the Dardanian servants, had all left the day before, but -they could not say where they had gone. They had travelled in their -own carriage, but no one had seen it on the road. The mystery was as -deep as ever. - - - - - CHAPTER XXI. - QUEEN AND KING. - -The fifth Neustrian Revolution was complete. The _plébiscite_ had -been taken, and by an overwhelming majority Prince Timoleon Lucanor -Malasorte was requested to proclaim himself Emperor of the Neustrians. -Such a request was naturally regarded as a command by the person most -concerned, and the telegram which informed foreign countries of the -result of the _plébiscite_ contained also the first proclamation of -the Emperor Timoleon V. A semi-official _communiqué_ accompanying the -intelligence announced that the betrothal of the new monarch to the -Grand-Duchess Sonya Eugenovna, cousin of the Emperor of Scythia, would -take place almost immediately, and that this union would cement a -closer alliance between the two countries than could ever have -subsisted while the government of one was an autocracy and of the -other a republic. These items of news were received without surprise -by Europe generally, but in one distant corner of the continent they -resulted in a wholly unexpected series of events. - -It happened that there was a luncheon-party at the Palace at -Bellaviste, to which the Premier, who had but just received the -message from Neustria, came late, bringing the telegram with him. He -said nothing until the meal was over, but then asked for an immediate -audience of the King. Displeased by the breaking-up of her party, and -no more disposed than she had been as Miss Steinherz to accept meekly -anything that interfered with her wishes, Queen Félicia sent her -equerry to ask her husband and Prince Mirkovics what the news was. The -King, who had learnt by experience that his bride was quite capable of -pursuing him and assisting at the interview unless her request was -complied with, sent her a copy of the telegram, which she read as she -moved about among her guests. - -“Logan, come right here. I want you this instant!” were the words that -startled the room, and made Baroness Radnika, who had accompanied the -new Queen as her mistress of the household, look round in distress. -She had thought Félicia cured of her Americanisms, but at the first -moment of excitement the old habits revived. A covert glance of -amusement passed between the ladies of the British and United States -legations, and the Baroness threw herself bravely into the breach by -trying to start a fresh subject of conversation as Maimie responded to -Félicia’s summons. - -“Read that, now. I might have been an empress to-day,” said the Queen, -putting the telegram into her friend’s hand. - -“Well, I guess it isn’t my fault you are not,” was the swift answer, -given in an undertone, for Félicia’s words had been distinctly -audible. - -“That is so. And we can’t alter things now, any way.” - -“No; you’ll just have to make the best of them.” - -That was all, but Félicia remained pensive for the rest of the day, -and there were those at hand who watched her every look and treasured -up any incautious word. One of these was King Michael’s aide-de-camp, -Captain Andreivics, to whom his master had recently intimated that he -might make himself useful by marrying Maimie, so that, while still -about the Court, she might be removed from her position of paramount -influence with Félicia. Somewhat against his will, so far as his -personal feelings were concerned, but with a keen sense of the -direction in which his material interests pointed, the aide-de-camp -had done his best to obey, only to find himself smartly refused by -Maimie, and to become, as he shrewdly suspected, a never-failing -subject of amusement to his lady-love and the Queen. To-day he saw his -opportunity for a neat little revenge on both of them, for even at -this early date the married life of the royal couple was by no means a -path of roses. The King’s marriage had been extremely popular in -Thracia, on account of the reputed wealth of the bride, which was -expected to descend in a golden shower on all classes of the -community. But it had proved rather to resemble the grants made to -deserving objects by certain philanthropic bodies, which require as a -condition of their reception that at least an equal amount shall be -raised by the locality benefited. Moreover, the thrifty Thracians, -already disturbed in their minds by the cost of the festivities -incident upon the state entry of the King and Queen into their -capital, found that their new sovereign had no intention of serving -the country at the cost of her own wishes. Addresses presented by -impassioned patriots implored her to adopt the national costume, which -it was quickly known she had pronounced hideous, and to encourage -local manufactures by wearing no materials but those made in Thracia, -which she flatly refused to do. King Michael had never shown himself -particularly amenable to the wishes of his people in the past, but he -had a lively sense of the value of popularity, and felt that it would -be an excellent thing for Félicia to make a few little sacrifices in -the interests of the nation and the dynasty. Unfortunately, however, -Félicia did not take this view of things. The King had already become -aware that to be her husband meant chiefly that he was responsible for -providing her with a “good time” generally, and that any attempt to -coerce her would be either ignored or laughed aside. He had sufficient -self-control to behave as if his forced acquiescence was due to a -natural willingness to indulge his bride as far as possible, but he -was keenly on the look-out for some means of inflicting an exemplary -defeat upon her. It was unfortunate for him that in the first fall he -tried with her, he himself was the defeated party. Félicia’s yacht, -the Bluebird, in which they had spent the honeymoon, was about to -convey them on a series of visits to various foreign Courts. King -Michael wished to arm the vessel and change her status to that of a -warship, thus doubling the numerical strength of the Thracian navy at -one stroke; but Félicia not only refused her assent to the change, -but persisted in continuing to sail the ship under the Stars and -Stripes, and retaining her American crew. King Michael saw Maimie’s -hand in this, and lacking the wisdom which would have led him to wait -for the moment when the crew would begin to grumble at serving so far -from home, argued the matter with Félicia on every possible occasion. -His only hope of success lay in winning her over to his side, for her -marriage-contract secured to her the absolute control of the vessel, -but he could not bring himself to let the subject drop, and begin -again when she had forgiven his persistence, and things were thus ripe -for a quarrel between the two. - -As for Félicia, she had obtained her ambition, and it wholly failed -to satisfy her. Considered as the capital of a Balkan state, -Bellaviste was wonderfully advanced, but to her it seemed dull, behind -the times, and above all, provincial. The Thracians, who had so -sturdily resisted Queen Ernestine’s efforts to Europeanise them, were -not more ready to succumb to the fascinations of Queen Félicia, even -when these were backed by the prestige of her wealth, and she was -beginning to see that her intention of gathering a gay society around -her was not likely to become a reality. People who were accustomed to -Lutetia and Vindobona might pay a flying visit to this far corner of -Europe if a series of special festivities was in progress, but they -would not make a long stay, and most emphatically they would never -regard Bellaviste seriously as a spot which must be visited once a -year. Thus disillusioned, Félicia found herself suddenly face to face -with the fact that by her own action, or inaction, long ago she had -thrown away the chance of reigning as the supreme arbitress of taste -and fashion in the city which to her, as to all good Americans, was -the actual centre of the world. Instead of setting the fashions, all -she could now do was to be allowed, by the special favour of the great -_couturiers_ she patronised, to follow them at secondhand, and her -taste could only be imposed upon the small and often recalcitrant -circle of Thracian officialdom, instead of upon an admiring world. - -Left to herself, Félicia would doubtless have followed Maimie’s -prudent advice, and, with the common-sense on which she prided -herself, have determined to make the best of her position, but she had -gained too many enemies to be allowed to do this. Captain Andreivics -found an ally in one of the many ladies to whom King Michael’s -unguarded attentions in past years had given hopes of sharing his -throne, hopes doomed to be blighted by a sudden and somewhat tardy -recollection on his part of the duty he owed to his house. Félicia’s -remark to Maimie, her obvious depression during the rest of the day, -offered abundant material for disturbing the mind of a husband who was -already notoriously prone to jealousy, and almost without knowing it, -the conspirators added a touch here, and deepened a shadow there, -until the least that could be imagined was that Félicia had played -off Prince Timoleon Malasorte and himself against one another until -her very marriage-day, and had only chosen him at last because she -distrusted his rival’s prospects of establishing himself on the -Neustrian throne. Whispers followed as to a certain mysterious cabinet -in the inner boudoir which was sacred to her Majesty and Miss Logan. -This cabinet had never been seen open, but ladies on duty in the outer -rooms had heard it closed and locked, after the Queen and her -favourite had sat for a long time rustling papers and talking in low -tones. What more likely than that the cabinet contained love-letters, -which would prove to King Michael that he had been cruelly duped by -his bride, and in which she took a stolen pleasure even now? - -There was this amount of inherent probability in the suggestions which -Captain Andreivics ventured, somewhat gingerly at first, to throw out, -that King Michael was very well aware Félicia had played off Usk and -himself against one another in the manner described, so that she might -quite conceivably have treated a third unfortunate in the same way -without their knowledge. He had viewed her treatment of Usk with a -fine indifference, but he was the last man to submit meekly to similar -usage himself. Moreover, if there was any foundation for the -aide-de-camp’s hints, Maimie also had deceived him in the most -barefaced way, which demanded condign punishment. A strong man would -have taxed both women openly with the alleged deception, but King -Michael preferred to work on different lines. Armed with various -bunches of keys, he made his way that evening by a private passage -from his rooms to Félicia’s. The door opening into the passage from -the inner boudoir was locked, but he opened it with a master-key, -after listening to make sure that Félicia and Maimie were not talking -inside. The room was empty, and switching on the electric light, he -began to try the lock of the cabinet--a fanciful thing of old French -workmanship, but well made and in excellent repair--with one key after -another. To his disgust, there was not one that would open it, though -he found two that seemed to fit. Striking a match, and examining the -lock closely by its light, he saw where the difficulty lay, and that -it was easily overcome. The blade of his knife, inserted where the -doors met, forced back the bolt at once, and the secrets of the -cabinet lay open before him. Moreover, the cabinet was packed with -them; the mass of evidence was enormous. But as he took out one thing -after another at random, he grew more and more perplexed. There were -ball-programmes, bouquet-holders, _bonbonnières_, cotillon gifts and -favours, a few valentines or Christmas cards of a specially flattering -character, some invitations to important or exclusive gatherings. It -was an interesting social museum, but it was not what he wanted. He -pulled out the drawer at the top. Photographs!--he clutched them -eagerly. But they were all of Félicia herself, in every possible -variety of dress and attitude, and each marked with the date and place -of its taking. More angry than ever, he drew out the deep drawer at -the bottom. It was very full, and the rustling of paper rewarded him -as he plunged his hand into it. But it was all newspaper--a collection -of cuttings from all sorts and conditions of American journals, -forming Félicia’s social biography, from her school “graduation” and -coming-out ball to her marriage, over which the journalistic mind -appeared to have run riot. There were interviews with her of various -dates, accompanied by unrecognisable portraits of herself and of “J. -Bertram Steinherz, father of Miss Steinherz,” and of “the late Mrs -Constance L. Steinherz,” and interior and exterior views of the family -abode. Some of the accounts had a small piece of dress-material -carefully pinned to them, evidently that of the gown worn at the ball -or theatre-party in question, and all were neatly arranged and -docketed. - -King Michael stood before the rifled cabinet in a towering rage. He -was in no mood for the consolation, of which the examination of his -wife’s dearest treasures might have assured him, that she loved no one -but herself; all he felt was that he was in an absurd and ungraceful -position. To put everything back as he had found it was almost an -impossibility, even if he could get the cabinet-door to lock again. If -he could not, Félicia and that American woman would guess the truth -at once. Only one person would tamper with the cabinet so clumsily if -he ventured to do it all. He was beginning to lay the papers in the -drawer as smoothly as he could, trusting that Félicia might not -remember the exact order in which she had left them, when he was -horrified by the sound of voices in the next room. - -“I just wish that Paris store would hurry up with those albums, -Maime,” said Félicia, and her voice was coming closer. “When one has -them make things to one’s own design, they’re so awfully long about -it.” - -“I’d have them send one at a time, just as they’re finished,” Maimie -answered. “Then we can start on your graduation right away.” - -“I guess I will,” said Félicia, as she drew the curtain aside. “Say!” -she cried shrilly, “and what are you doing here, Michael?” - -She seemed to grow taller as he looked at her, and towered above him -so magnificently that he was conscious of actual fear. He tried to -bluster the matter out. - -“And if I am here, madame, has not your husband a right to--to----” - -“To go through my private papers?” with deadly quietness. - -“Exactly. I claim that right, and I exercise it.” - -“And to break into my bureau?” Her quick eye had caught sight of the -knife, and she took possession of it before he could prevent her. -“Thanks for the warning. You may claim your right just as much as ever -you want to, but you’ve exercised it for the last time.” - -“In that you will find yourself mistaken, madame.” - -“You are pretty much mistaken if you think you’ll have the chance of -doing it again. Why, you little miserable----” she stopped suddenly. -“But I won’t call you names. You’ll hear plenty before long from other -people.” - -“In your present rank of life, madame, it is not the custom to make -the world a sharer in family disputes.” - -“It is unavoidable at times,” drawled Félicia--“when a separation is -to be arranged, for instance.” - -“This is preposterous. You have no grounds for anything of the kind.” - -“Just wait until I go way back to the States and ask for one.” - -“Do you imagine that you will be permitted to visit America for any -such purpose? No, madame, let us look at this affair in a sensible -light. If I have damaged your cabinet, I will replace it. Your -interesting records you will find untouched, and I shall be happy to -add some article of value to your collection--” he waved his hand -towards the drawers of nicknacks--“to show my regret for this slight -misunderstanding. You will be so good as to make your own choice.” - -“And you think you can bribe an American woman to overlook an insult -like this?” demanded Félicia, but Maimie was at her side. - -“Don’t fuss over it any more to-night, Fay. Leave things till -morning.” - -“Miss Logan’s advice is excellent. I trust I shall find you in a more -accommodating temper in the morning, madame. I wish you a very good -night,” and King Michael left the room with what dignity he could -muster. At a sign from Félicia, Maimie locked the door after him. - -“Maime, what about the Bluebird’s steam launch?” asked Félicia -quickly. - -“It was to wait around at the steps up to midnight to see if there was -any change in the orders for to-morrow. Are you real set on it, Fay?” - -“Dead set,” responded Félicia through her teeth. “Send those girls to -bed. Let them know I’m just pining for a walk on the terrace.” - -While Maimie went obediently to dismiss the dressers, Félicia threw -on a cloak, and pulled the hood over her head. She had another cloak -ready for Maimie when she returned, but close upon her heels came -Baroness Radnika, with an anxious face. - -“You will not walk on the terrace to-night, madame?” she said -uneasily. “It is cold, and the damp is rising from the river. I -thought I would venture to speak when I heard Miss Logan telling your -dressers.” - -“I am going out,” said Félicia. “I can’t stay indoors to-night.” - -“It is something more,” said the Baroness, coming closer, and laying -her hands on Félicia’s shoulders. “Forgive me, madame, but I see it -in your face. You will not gratify your slanderers by giving them such -a handle against you? Ah, dear child, I loved your father; bear with -me, and listen to me now. Don’t take this step, whatever it may be. -You are excited--agitated----” - -“Feel of my hand, Baroness. There’s no excitement there--not much! I’m -real fond of you, but I can’t have you delay me this way. The step I -am going to take is due to myself, and nobody will blame me when they -know the reason. If you’ll sort these things here, I’ll be grateful, -for I may send for them soon, and I’m sorry that you’ll just have to -stay here till morning.” - -She withdrew herself from the clinging hands as she spoke, and before -the Baroness knew what she was going to do, she had passed under the -curtain Maimie was holding, and locked the door of the larger boudoir. -This portion of the palace was now deserted for the night, and the -Baroness could not make up her mind to attract the attention of any of -the sentries in the garden to her position. Perhaps she had misjudged -Félicia; she might only be intending to walk on the terrace, as she -had said, but the Baroness’s heart misgave her as she remembered that -the Bluebird was lying at the mouth of the river, with her fires -banked, in case the King and Queen should be able to make a start -early on the morrow. She would have been more anxious still if she had -known that the yacht’s steam-launch was waiting off the palace itself -for orders, and that those orders were conveyed to it by Félicia in -person. But when the astonishing news arrived in the morning that the -Queen was missing, and that her yacht had steamed out to sea in the -night, it was the Baroness, released after a weary vigil, who -undertook to face the King in the first fury of his wrath. He would -send his gunboat to pursue the Bluebird, he would telegraph to every -port that she was to be detained, he would enlist the help of every -government in Europe to restore his truant wife, and he would--he -would--words failed to express the punishment that should be meted out -to every one concerned in the affair. But the Baroness held her -ground, and fought Félicia’s battle with a courage which was -absolutely regardless of the King’s frantic displeasure. To prevent a -scandal, and leave the way open for the two to be brought together -again, was her only aim, and she had her reward, when she left the -King’s presence at last, in the brief announcement which was to be -added to the daily Court Circular:-- - - - “Her Majesty the Queen, attended by Miss Logan, left Bellaviste last - night on board the royal yacht Bluebird for a short cruise. His - Majesty the King, who had intended to accompany her Majesty, is - detained some time longer by the course of public affairs.” - - -“For real genuine slave-driving commend me to a pretty woman who knows -her own value--as all pretty women ought to,” added Mr Hicks -gallantly, repenting, apparently, of his opening complaint. - -“Who is the lady?” asked Usk. - -“No less a person than her Majesty Queen Félicia, sir. She is lying -off Paranati in the Bluebird, and has had the mate come over the -mountains on horseback at the risk of his life, with a message for me -that she has no use for matrimony just now, and I may as well fix up a -separation.” - -“What, already?” cried Usk, with unintentional irony. - -“Why, certainly. The King has insulted her unpardonably, so she says, -and I guess there isn’t anything to be done but eliminate him for the -future.” - -“Then you will be obliged to go to her at Paranati?” - -“That’s so, and it makes me real mad. I had concluded to wander around -in these parts some, and try and solve the mystery of this last -disappearance of the Count’s, and now I don’t see but you’ll have to -do what you can without me. What riles me is the way things seem to -work for the other side all the time. It’s that which is telling on -Lady Usk too, I guess.” - -Usk nodded gravely, for it seemed as if Helene could not forgive -herself for her failure to rescue Cyril. In vain her husband and Mr -Hicks pointed out that she could not in any case have saved him by -herself, and that the circumstances made it impossible for her to get -together a band of helpers. She was convinced that there was something -she might have done if she had had more presence of mind, or even--to -go back to the beginning of her misfortunes--that she would have done -far better not to approach the Pelenko mansion at all, rather than -give the alarm by her sudden appearance there, and thus enable Dr -Gregorescu to remove his patient. That there was some truth in this -could not be denied, and Helene brooded over it until she was at times -persuaded that Usk must hate her for her disastrous interference, and -she made herself miserable over an alienation which was quite -imaginary. To Usk such a state of mind was utterly incomprehensible. -Helene was tired after her adventures and inclined to be morbid, he -thought, and he dragged her out into the fresh air, and scolded her -good-humouredly, never dreaming that she took his scoldings seriously -to heart, and believed that he invited her out with him as a matter of -duty. - -“It’s a real misfortune that your mother is set fast at Geneva, and -Queen Ernestine at Vindobona,” Mr Hicks went on. “You and I, Lord Usk, -we don’t know just the way to get hold of a little sensitive girl like -that, and put things so’s she must take a cheerful view of them. We -can’t seem to fix it that she should have a good cry, and feel better, -which is what she wants.” - -Usk was silent. His private opinion was that Helene cried a great deal -without feeling any better, but he was not going to say this to Mr -Hicks, although he did not resent his curious assumption of a share in -the charge of her, knowing that any woman in trouble imposed a -responsibility upon the American to see that she was comforted or -righted. - -“Did you try suggesting to her that her mother should come here?” Mr -Hicks asked. - -“Yes; but it was no good. She said at once that her mother couldn’t -leave her father, and that the Grand-Duke wouldn’t like this place at -all.” - -“No; I guess he’d raise Cain a few dozen times a day, which wouldn’t -be soothing to his daughter’s nerves. And did you propose that she -should take a fortnight’s vacation, and go right home to them?” - -“Yes; and it made her perfectly miserable. She thought I wanted to -send her away from me, and she was so unhappy I had to promise never -to suggest such a thing again.” - -“Well, well!” remarked Mr Hicks soothingly, “things will pan out all -right yet. You know the pay-dirt’s there, and by and bye you’ll get -down to the bed-rock, and find you’re come upon a real Bonanza. -That’ll be when you understand her all through, see? And for the -present you’ll do your level best to be father and mother to her as -well as husband. That starched stone image of a maid of hers is worse -than no one. And I wouldn’t wonder if things will all go smooth when -once we start finding the Count, any way. That little lady of yours -has so much grit that it only needs an emergency to bring her along -smiling.” - -“Pity the emergency doesn’t hurry up!” said Usk. “Why, Hicks, there -must be a countryman of yours inside there,” as a slow voice of -extraordinary solemnity, speaking in English, made itself audible on -the terrace where they sat. - -“That’s the mate of the Bluebird,” responded Mr Hicks. “I told him -come out here when he was finished stoking. Is that you, Mr Bradwell? -Come right out. Did the folks give you a good square meal?” - -“According to their lights, sir, according to their lights.” The -sailor, a gaunt middle-aged man, emerged from the doorway and bowed to -Usk. “They don’t know to fix that sort of thing properly here.” - -“Nor anywhere out of the States,” agreed Mr Hicks heartily. “I don’t -wonder her Majesty is tired of these one-horse countries. Did I hear -you say she didn’t incline to go back to Thracia alive?” - -“Won’t trust herself on shore, not even to visit the Prince and -Princess,” was the reply. “Ship prepared for action, rifles got up and -ball ammunition served out. Boats patrolling around all night, watch -on deck forbidden to snooze.” - -“Ah, she knows her way about!” said Mr Hicks admiringly. For a few -minutes they smoked in silence, and then the sailor inquired -suddenly-- - -“Is there any sort of a State asylum in these parts?” - -“Not much there isn’t--not near here, any way. What’s the racket?” - -“What would be your candid opinion of a man that located one in the -mountains, just over the Dardanian frontier there?” - -“Either that he was the worst kind of a fool, or that he had concluded -it was safer to keep himself out of sight.” - -“Well,” pursued the sailor slowly, “there’s one of our firemen taken -to hurling chunks of coal at the other men instead of into the -furnaces. It ain’t only his fun, but the rest of the boys object to -it. It seemed sort of suitable when I asked that guide of mine this -afternoon what a certain house was, and he gave me to understand it -was a lunatic asylum. I don’t see but a week or two way up there while -we’re lying off Paranati might set this nigger right.” - -“You didn’t go so far as make any inquiries?” asked Mr Hicks. - -“Well, I just did, as we were giving the horses a rest in the village. -Saw the doctor chap, ain’t been long at the business, only one patient -at present, old fellow who’s forgotten his own name, but looks smart -enough.” - -“What’s the doctor’s name?” broke from Usk and Mr Hicks together. - -“Gregory? no, something sort of foreign-sounding--Gregorescu, here it -is. I said I would have him hear from me.” - -“So you shall, to-morrow morning,” said Mr Hicks, “and I’ll go along -there with you.” - -“The doctor would as lief be rid of this old fellow, I guess. He told -me he was quite safe to be allowed out, but he didn’t know where to -find his friends.” - -“Then his friends will find him. Did you say you were coming here?” - -“Well, yes, I guess I did.” - -“I don’t just see this,” murmured Mr Hicks, “but we will look into it -to-morrow.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXII. - OPENING THE PRISON DOORS. - -When Mr Bradwell started the next morning on his return journey to -the Dardanian port, Mr Hicks accompanied him, not without strong -opposition from Usk and Helene. Dr Gregorescu’s extraordinary change -of front, as exhibited in his interview with the mate, seemed to them -to show that the only thing that needed to be done was to go in a body -and demand and obtain Cyril’s release, but Mr Hicks could not satisfy -himself that the matter was so simple. The utmost he would concede was -that four hours after he had started, they might drive out as far as -the bend of the road where Helene had first lost her way, and wait -there in case he sent back a message by Jakob, whom he would take with -him, and William could ride out with the carriage, as it might be an -advantage to have another man at hand. But when Usk asked scoffingly -what was the object of all these warlike preparations, Mr Hicks -confessed that he didn’t know. It was simply that he couldn’t seem to -see such an elaborate plot peter out without some sort of a surprise -for somebody. - -The two Americans and Jakob accomplished their journey to the village -without mishap, although Mr Bradwell, who had seldom ridden any -distance until the day before, was glad to adopt one of the high -native saddles, well padded with sheep-skins, instead of the European -one he had used. Arrived at the village, the horses were left in -Jakob’s care, and Mr Hicks and his friend turned into the rough track -which led to the asylum. This track branched off from the village -street at its upper end, where the road, now fairly in Dardania, -became little better than a bridle-path, and the house stood on an -isolated hill about a mile away. It had been a kind of watch-tower or -rude fort in the Roumi times, but of late years had been enlarged and -adapted to the purposes of an ordinary dwelling by a wealthy merchant -of Paranati, who thought it would prove a pleasant summer retreat. He -had made the winding path leading up the hill passable for the rough -vehicles of the country, even if it could not justly be called a -carriage-road, and he was proceeding to plant the bare hillside and -lay out gardens, when a disastrous speculation plunged him into -poverty, and left the place to its old isolation. It seemed admirably -fitted for Dr Gregorescu’s ostensible purpose. The situation was airy -and commanded splendid views, there was space for moderate exercise -within the outer circle of the old fortifications, and any patient who -succeeded in escaping over the walls would be in view from the gateway -almost as far as the foot of the hill. - -Mr Hicks noted the possibilities of the place with a jealous eye as he -and his companion climbed the path. There were one or two points where -it might be possible to effect an entrance, but there was no way of -descending the hill but by this path, which wound in zigzag fashion up -the slope, with a steep cliff above it on one side and below it on the -other. There were turns at which the passenger would be invisible from -the gate for a moment or two, but he could not reach the foot without -coming into view again. If Dr Gregorescu were really willing to -surrender his patient peaceably, it was a most extraordinary piece of -good fortune, but why should he establish himself in a place of such -natural advantages if he had no intention of making use of them? - -Mr Hicks was on the look out for suspicious circumstances, and when he -met Dr Gregorescu face to face the interview seemed to justify him in -the belief that the doctor was a party to the whole of the plot. Mr -Bradwell was despatched to view the building with a Greek attendant -who spoke French, and to make arrangements for the reception of the -unfortunate fireman, and Mr Hicks approached delicately the subject of -Prince Shishman Pelenko. When he hinted that the patient thus styled -might in reality be identical with a missing personage of importance -in whose fate he took a deep interest, the doctor rose to the bait -immediately, with every appearance of frankness. His story was that he -had received the charge of the unfortunate man from a lady, whose name -he was not at liberty to mention, but whom Mr Hicks understood at once -to be Mlle. Garanine. This lady explained that while travelling with -her, Prince Shishman had been seized suddenly with the distressing -delusion that his life was perpetually threatened, which was -accompanied by an entire loss of memory, and almost of the sense of -personal identity. There was no reason why Dr Gregorescu should doubt -her statement as to his patient’s name at the time, for when they -arrived at the Pelenko mansion they were expected and welcomed. -Moreover, the day after their arrival Prince Soudaroff called and had -a long interview with the patient, endeavouring in vain to rouse him -to any recollection of his former life. This account differed so -totally from that given to Usk and Helene by Prince Soudaroff himself -of his mission to Drinitza that Mr Hicks wondered for the moment -whether the doctor had really been a dupe throughout, but in an -instant he detected a false note. The evidence of the landlord of the -Drinitza inn showed conclusively that the mysterious visitors had -occupied the Pelenko mansion from the very evening on which Prince -Valerian had left it, and when Cyril had disappeared; and the -neighbourhood had been so strictly watched about the time of Prince -Soudaroff’s visit that the doctor, his patient, and their train of -attendants could not have arrived unnoticed. But since the doctor must -not be allowed to see that he had blundered, Mr Hicks repaid his -confidence by imparting to him, under a pledge of secrecy, the history -of Cyril’s disappearance, and suggested that he should be allowed to -see him without his knowledge. The doctor agreed to this at once, -remarking that he had begun to be doubtful as to the identity of his -patient of late, since Prince Valerian paid no attention whatever to -the detailed reports and other documents he forwarded to him, and no -other member of the family had shown the slightest interest. He took -the visitor up to one of the flat roofs of the building, which -commanded a view of a lower roof. On this lower roof Cyril was sitting -idle, as Helene had seen him in the garden, his hair and moustache -white, his expression perfectly vacant, except when he rolled a -cigarette with great care and neatness. A dreadful misgiving began to -creep into Mr Hicks’s mind. - -“If he’s not mad, it’s just about the finest imitation I ever saw,” he -thought, and then suggested to the doctor that they should show -themselves and speak to him. - -“Not from this distance,” was the reply, “but I shall be delighted to -take you to him and present you formally. The case is a most -interesting one, and I shall be glad to see whether there is any -return of memory at the sight of you. I suppose you still think this -is the person of whom you are in search?” - -The question was asked hastily, as if Dr Gregorescu feared he might -have aroused suspicion by taking for granted that the visitor would -know his patient, and Mr Hicks was also conscious that there might be -danger in a sudden meeting; but he remembered Cyril’s apparent -non-recognition of Helene, and took comfort as he accepted the -doctor’s offer. They passed through various passages, and at last came -out upon the roof where they had seen Cyril. He was sitting in a kind -of stone summer-house, open in front, with a bench running round the -three sides, and a rough wooden table in the middle. - -“May I be allowed to present to your Highness Mr Hicks, who is -travelling in this neighbourhood?” said Dr Gregorescu, appearing round -the corner of the summer-house with a suddenness which the visitor -felt sure was intentional. - -“How you startle one, Gregorescu!” said Cyril in French, rising and -bowing languidly. “This is not the first time I have had to speak to -you about your roughness. A man in my unfortunate position has at -least the right to expect consideration from his physician. Monsieur,” -he turned to Mr Hicks, “pardon the irritability of my nerves. It is -difficult for the young”--he waved his hand towards the doctor--“to -realise how the knowledge that death may be lurking at any corner -tends to unman one. You are an Englishman, I presume? My good doctor -will be able to air his linguistic attainments. He is a most -accomplished person.” - -“No, sir, an American,” said Mr Hicks laconically. “I understood from -you just now that you did not speak English?” he added sharply to Dr -Gregorescu. - -“His Highness is too kind. I speak a few words, just enough to make -English people laugh,” was the reply, and another black mark went down -against the doctor in Mr Hicks’s mind. - -“Mr Hicks is anxious to take your Highness away with him,” the doctor -went on. - -Cyril raised his eyebrows. “It is really very kind of Mr Hicks, but I -don’t quite see why I should go away with him,” he remarked. - -“If you remember the conversation we had a day or two ago, -Highness----” - -“Ah, I see.” Cyril turned frankly to Mr Hicks. “You must understand, -monsieur, that I make no complaints against Dr Gregorescu, but--and I -say this to his face--I am not altogether satisfied with his -arrangements. I can quite believe that it was advisable to remove from -my brother’s house, since my enemies had tracked me there, and I only -escaped assassination by a secret and hasty departure, but I do not -care for the situation of this place. It is isolated--exposed. I have -the sensation of being set up to be shot at. Moreover, I understand -that the doctor intends to take other patients, which is a very -different thing from being my private physician, as I intended when I -placed myself under his care. Hence I should not refuse to -consider--merely to consider--proposals for a change.” - -“Count, you are colossal!” was the exclamation Mr Hicks only just -restrained himself from uttering. He looked inquiringly at the doctor. - -“His Highness’s remarks compel me to enter upon a rather awkward -subject,” was the response. “The money entrusted to me for his -Highness’s support by--the lady I mentioned to you, monsieur, is--is -very nearly exhausted, and----” - -“And you think his Highness’s friends might prefer to make their own -arrangements in future?” asked Mr Hicks. “Quite so.” - -“Oh, monsieur, why should we continue this farce?” cried the doctor -excitedly. “I see you have no doubt that my patient is in reality your -friend, Count Mortimer----” - -Cyril bowed smilingly. “You are very kind, to endow me with a new -name,” he said. - -“And nothing would please me better than to resign him to your care at -once,” the doctor went on; “but how could I reconcile it with my -conscience? You have no authority--you are not a relation. If he had -even recognised you”--his little black eyes were on Cyril’s face--“but -I cannot surrender him to a stranger.” - -“That is so,” agreed Mr Hicks, wondering what this portended. - -“If only you could bring his wife here; but you say she is dangerously -ill at Vindobona----” - -Mr Hicks saw Cyril start slightly, very slightly, and interposed -hastily. “Not dangerously ill, doctor; you mistook me. In fact, when -she hears I have found her husband, I think she will be well at once. -As you say, the best thing will be to bring her here. But she could -scarcely arrive in less than a week, for she must travel slowly.” - -“If his Excellency will continue to put up with our poor quarters here -for that time----” - -“By all means,” said Cyril, with a whimsical smile. “But you place me -in a curious position, gentlemen. You propose to bring a charming -lady--of course she is charming--who is good enough to say that she is -my wife, to take care of me. Well and good; the lady and I can but see -one another, and the decision will lie with her, naturally. The state -of affairs is quite interesting.” - -“Perhaps,” said Mr Hicks, anxious to disarm any suspicion in the -doctor’s mind, “it might be well for the Queen to remain in this house -for a day or two before taking her husband away. You would then see -whether there was any hope of his recognising her----” - -“Or any fear of a recurrence of violence,” said the doctor. - -“There is one important point which doesn’t seem to have occurred to -you,” said Cyril, with languid impatience. “My personal safety must be -provided for. Mr dear Mr Hicks, I like your countenance, but you must -understand that I cannot consent to leave a place of comparative -security in order to plunge into constant danger. You and the lady of -whom you speak will be good enough to make adequate arrangements for -protecting me from assassination when I am outside these walls. You -will also, if you please, arrange to defray any sum that may be due to -Dr Gregorescu for his services by that time. His mentioning money -matters was quite unnecessary, but since he is so deeply concerned -about them, pray let him feel himself secure. That is all I have to -say. Please make your own arrangements. I shall be delighted to fall -in with them, if these two points are remembered.” He rolled himself -another cigarette, and leaned back in his seat, tapping with his -fingers on the table as if tired of the subject, while Mr Hicks and -the doctor, the latter looking much subdued, entered into a discussion -as to ways and means. It was while they were trying to arrange how -Queen Ernestine could be accommodated in a house which contained no -female inhabitants, that Mr Hicks was struck by the intentness of -Cyril’s gaze at the doctor. - -“What can it mean?” he thought. “And that tapping--how he keeps it up! -It might be Morse--Jehoshaphat! it _is_ Morse. Four dots, two dots, -dash dot dash dot, dash dot dash, three dots--_Hicks_! Hicks! Hicks! -and he’s been doing it five minutes already. I understand you -perfectly,” he said slowly to the doctor. “There is a difficulty. -Perhaps the best plan will be for Lady Usk to drive over here and see -what can be done. A woman’s notions often come in useful for -circumventing a deadlock.” - -Dr Gregorescu welcomed the suggestion, and thought that it might be -advisable to hire some furniture, either from Paranati or Novigrad, -with a view to the Queen’s visit. Paranati was nearer, but the absence -of roads made it almost hopeless to send there. Decidedly Novigrad -would be better, but then there was the difficulty of the frontier. Mr -Hicks listened and agreed, while all the time, though his eyes were -fixed on the doctor, he was interpreting the tapping on the table. - -“_Hicks, get me out of this to-day, for heaven’s sake! He suspects -something. I shall be mad in real earnest if you leave me here another -week._” - -To answer this appeal, Mr Hicks summoned to his aid all the fertility -of invention which had made him famous in three continents. He dared -not respond by tapping on the table, but from where he sat Cyril could -see his knee, while it was hidden from the doctor. Tapping the knee -smartly for a dot, and rubbing his finger along softly for a dash, he -answered according to the code. - -“_Be here this afternoon, and when you hear a row down below, watch -out for a stone._” Then he turned to the doctor and summed up. “If I -can get a message to Lady Usk in time, she shall come up this -afternoon, and you will settle with her what arrangements you can -make. The Queen will arrive in a week, possibly sooner, and you will -keep his Excellency under your care until then? My friend and I must -go over to Paranati to bring that poor mad chap, for he ought to be in -your charge as soon as possible, and I may be back here almost as soon -as Lady Usk, but if I haven’t arrived, you will explain things to -her?” - -The doctor agreed, and he and Mr Hicks parted with the utmost -cordiality. The patient Mr Bradwell, reduced to utter silence from -having exhausted every possible topic of conversation with his guide, -was rescued from the bench in the porter’s lodge where he was meekly -smoking, and the two men walked down the hill together. No sooner were -they out of earshot of the asylum than Mr Hicks said-- - -“Now, Eben Bradwell, buck up. You’ve got the very biggest order on -hand to-day that you ever had, and don’t you forget it.” - -“I guess this ain’t the first time I’ve shepherded a lunatic gently -into an asylum,” was the reply, in a somewhat injured tone. - -“Ebenezer,” said Mr Hicks, “that isn’t a circumstance to what I’m -going to have you do to-day. You’ll just make the journey to Paranati -and back in the quickest time you ever travelled, and you’ll bring -along with you the smartest man on board the Bluebird.” - -“If you air alluding to that unfortunate darkey, I guess----” - -“I am not alluding to him, but to a smart man that must take his -place. I wouldn’t hand over my worst enemy to that smooth-tongued Dago -back of us, after the time we’re going to give him to-day. No, sir; -what that smart man of yours has to do is to try and give you the slip -right at the foot of the hill here, and after a real hard fight, with -as much yelling and general violence as he can get in for the money, -to lead the chase way back into Dardania. You will have despatched a -messenger as soon as he began to be ugly to entreat the doctor to come -and try his influence on him, see?” - -“You want the doctor out of the road for a bit, is that so? Well, sir, -I like the notion, and I know the man that’ll tumble to it. We’ll make -a real handsome nigger out of him.” - -“That’s so, but there mustn’t be any waste of time. You’ve just got to -break the record getting to Paranati and back. Pour out the dollars -like water if they’re needed. I’ll have Lady Usk’s Dutchy go with you -to do the talking, for I must stay and fix things up here, but I’ll -meet you in the village, and the patient needn’t begin his star -performances before then.” - -“And what about her Majesty’s message that I brought you?” - -“I guess her Majesty will just have to wait until this row is hoed. If -she’s so mad that she gets reconciled again, it won’t hurt me, any -way.” - -With this reckless defiance of Queen Félicia, Mr Hicks sped the mate -and Jakob on their way, and himself returned along the road to meet -Usk and Helene. He found them waiting faithfully, but fuming, at the -appointed spot, and he unfolded the plan he had elaborated as he rode. -To one point Usk objected strongly. - -“I won’t have Helene mixed up in the rescue,” he said. “She can stay -in the village, and we’ll pick her up as we come back.” - -“I don’t see but we must have her come with us,” said Mr Hicks -doubtfully, “or we won’t be enough for the business. You, sir, will -have your hands full getting the rope to your uncle and helping him -down it, and Lady Usk will be wanted to hold the doctor in talk, for I -must be way down the hill with Bradwell’s outfit. Then when the doctor -is sent for to help us, you must distract the janitor’s attention -while the Count slips past. If the charms of your conversation will do -it, so much the better, but if not, then the six-shooter I warned you -to bring will come into play. I must have Lady Usk wait with William -and the buggy at the turn of the track out of sight of the gateway, -for there’s no other way of getting the Count down the hill without -being seen. You have the waterproof apron on the buggy, Lady Usk, I -hope? I guess you’ll admire to take your part in saving the Count, -won’t you? Don’t you go and have an upset down the hill; drive gently -till you’re through the village, but then just take it out of the -horses until you’re past the Pannonian frontier-post. I’ve had a word -with the boss there. He can’t do anything to help us, for fear of a -frontier incident, but once you’re safe across he’ll see you’re not -followed.” - -“But supposing these Dardanian fellows fire--she may be hit!” cried -Usk. - -“Well, sir, there’ll be your uncle and William, who won’t have her get -hurt if they can help it. And as I said, I wouldn’t bring a woman into -this if there was any other way of fixing things, but your wife has -grit, and she’ll take the risk.” - -“Oh, Usk, please, _please_!” entreated Helene, squeezing his arm very -hard. “You know it was my fault he wasn’t saved before. If I could -really help to save him this time!” - -Usk yielded, with a sufficiently bad grace, and they waited -impatiently until Mr Hicks thought the mate’s party would be on its -way back from Paranati, and then started for the frontier. The -Gendarmerie officer at the Pannonian post came out and wished them -luck as they passed, and they crossed the frontier-line and began to -climb the street of the village, which lay some few hundred yards -beyond it. Several of Helene’s old acquaintances came out to greet -her, and while she talked to them through the imperfect medium of the -customs-officer as interpreter, Mr Hicks and Usk went into the -post-office for a moment. When they emerged, Usk looked noticeably -stouter, a fact attributable to the length of thin, tough rope, -knotted at intervals, which was wound round his body under his coat. -This rope Mr Hicks had obtained in the morning through the postmaster, -and ensuring his secrecy by a judicious gift and the promise of -another, had employed him to make the knots. It would have been wholly -inadequate had the asylum been a modern building, with smooth, -well-finished walls, but the masonry had been rough when it was first -laid, and was now so weather-beaten that a young and active man might -almost have descended it without the aid of a rope at all. - -Mr Hicks remained in the village to meet Mr Bradwell, and William, -leaving his horse, took the driver’s seat in the buggy. Usk walked up -the hill by the side of the carriage, and loitered about the gateway, -while Helene, with much outward dignity and inward shrinking, paid her -call upon the doctor. It was almost more than her husband could endure -to let her enter the place by herself. What if she should be kidnapped -too! But she looked round and smiled at him bravely when she went in -at the gate, and after he had fidgeted about for the prescribed three -or four minutes, he began to take an interest in the masonry, and to -cross-question the porter. The man knew nothing of the history of the -place, but he intimated that the noble gentleman was quite at liberty -to walk round the outside, as far as the cliff afforded a foothold, -and see what the rest of the walls were like. Usk waited only until he -was out of sight of the gateway to unwind himself from the rope, and -fasten the end of it round a suitable stone. Then he went on, along a -very narrow ledge, until it ended suddenly, and he caught sight of -Cyril looking over the wall some ten feet farther on. At first his -heart stood still as he realised that he could not get under the wall -at the right spot, but in a moment he saw that this did not really -signify. The ledge was so narrow that it would have been next to -impossible to throw the stone up perpendicularly with any hope of its -lodging on the wall, but from the spot where he stood he could throw -it diagonally with some chance of success. Cyril held up a finger as a -warning to him not to begin yet, and he gathered the rope in his left -hand and waited. Then the sound of a sudden tumult, shouts, yells, -expostulations, and blows, mounted to them from the foot of the hill. -Cyril nodded, and Usk threw the stone. After two or three attempts -which fell short, Cyril caught it, and began to draw up the rope. - -In the meantime, William and the gatekeeper were startled by the -appearance of Jakob, who dashed up hatless and dishevelled to entreat -that Dr Gregorescu would come down the hill at once. The lunatic from -the Bluebird had suddenly become violent, and refused to mount the -hill. He was fighting with such strength that Mr Hicks and Mr Bradwell -feared they could not restrain him much longer. It would take at least -six men to carry him up the hill, they thought. The doctor came out -promptly, making final arrangements hastily with Helene as he handed -her into the buggy, then hurried down the hill with three or four of -his Dardanian servants, while William started the horses on the steep -descent with cautious deliberation. At the turn in the track they -paused, William almost as much excited as his mistress, until the -tones of Usk’s voice as he asked the porter whether his wife had -started without waiting for him reached their ears. Almost immediately -there was the sound of hasty footsteps, and Cyril ran down the road. -William had handed the reins to Helene, and was out of the carriage -immediately, lifting the apron on the farther side, and in a moment -Cyril was crouching in the vacant space and hidden under the apron. - -“William, put up the hood, please,” said Helene, in a quick hard -voice, and the servant, alarmed by her tone, turned to see Dr -Gregorescu hurrying breathlessly round the turn in front of them. He -might have no suspicion at present, but he could not but be surprised -to see the carriage stopping and William standing in the road. -Helene’s presence of mind saved the situation, and William obeyed at -once. - -“Surely you must find this place very windy?” said Helene, as the -doctor passed them. “I feel quite cold. Will you kindly tell my -husband that I have driven on, if you meet him? But don’t let me keep -you. William, you had better lead the horses down the hill.” - -“A thousand pardons!” ejaculated Dr Gregorescu. “I cannot stay, -madame, for the poor fellow from the ship has escaped. We must -organise a search at once. Pray excuse me.” - -A gracious bow from Helene, and she drove on, her face so white and -her hands so powerless that William, at the horses’ heads, feared the -reins would be torn from her grasp. At the next turning he stopped. - -“Excuse me, my lady, but if his lordship would change hats and coats -with me, he might sit up aside of you and drive, and no one the wiser, -without they looked close under the ’ood, if you’ll forgive me -offerin’ advice.” - -“Excellent advice too, William,” came in Cyril’s voice, muffled by the -apron, “but what will you do?” - -“I’ll go off in your things, my lord, as if I was tryin’ to get to the -frontier post by a short cut, without passin’ through the village, and -lead ’em a rare dance. If they come up with me, I have my fistes.” - -As he spoke, William was divesting himself of his livery coat and -cockaded hat, and replacing them with the soft felt hat and light -overcoat Cyril handed to him. Cyril made the change almost as quickly, -and stepped in front of Helene to the driver’s seat. She gave up the -reins without a word, for she was incapable of speech, and they were -just starting when Usk rushed headlong down the hill behind them. - -“What’s all this? Oh, good! Drive for your life, Uncle Cyril. -Gregorescu’s found out! Now, William, let’s put them off the scent!” -and Usk and the disguised William plunged into the wilderness of rocks -and low bushes beside the track, where the carriage could not pass, as -if intending to cut off the angle formed by the turns of the road. - -“Don’t be frightened, Helene, but hold tight!” said Cyril, with a -smile at his companion, as he kept a firm hand on the reins. - -“Oh, I don’t mind. Go fast--oh, do go fast!” she cried, finding her -voice. - -“Not until we are down this hill,” he answered, but when they came to -the short stretch of level road leading to the village, the buggy -seemed to fly along. When they reached the corner, and turned down -into the village street, Helene screamed. - -“Oh, they are taking the short cut too! They mean to catch us up -before we can reach the frontier-line.” - -“Never mind. They’re only after Usk and William, who don’t mean to be -caught. They won’t lead them across our track, you may be sure.” - -“No, no!” cried Helene, in agony. “I caught sight of Usk just for a -moment, and they must have seen him too, but they are not following. -They are coming straight across.” - -“Well, they are after William, then,” said Cyril shortly. “Keep quiet, -Lenchen, and don’t frighten the horses.” - -He was driving very carefully down the steep street, which in some -places was almost as rough as a flight of steps, and the horses were -picking their way with the greatest daintiness. Suddenly Helene -screamed again. - -“Oh, I saw them--between the houses! They will be there before us! Oh, -do drive faster!” - -Standing up with one hand on the rail, she snatched the whip from -Cyril, and struck the horses wildly several times. They swerved across -the road, and Cyril was almost dragged from his seat. - -“Sit down, Lenchen!” he said angrily. “Do you want us both to be -killed?” - -He recovered the whip, but there was no holding the horses now. The -buggy clattered down the stony street, dispersing pigs and fowls and -goats as it came. Horrified mothers caught up their children from -before the very feet of the horses, and village elders, leaning -against their houses for a talk, drew back out of the road with an -injured air as the wheels crashed close by their toes. By some -miracle, as it seemed, the horses kept their feet, and the buggy was -not overturned, and when the foot of the hill was in sight, Cyril drew -a deep breath, and said to Helene-- - -“It’s no use trying to pull up here. I’m going to rush them. Crouch. -Get under the apron if you can.” - -Glancing ahead, Helene saw that the Dardanians were straining every -nerve to reach the road and intercept them as soon as they were upon -the level. She slipped down under the apron as far as she could, and -Cyril urged the horses on. Only two men leaped into the road in time -to stand and meet them, and though both shouted that they would fire, -they were too much shaken by their run to take accurate aim. One -sprang aside, and struck a futile blow at Cyril with the butt-end of -his gun; the other was knocked down, and the horses, terrified by the -discharge of his rifle as he fell, and by the shouts which arose from -behind them, dashed on faster than ever. Two or three bullets struck -the hood of the buggy harmlessly. - -“Not much farther now, Lenchen,” said Cyril. “Get back to your seat, -at once, and if I say ‘Jump!’ do it immediately, do you hear?” - -Why should she jump? What could he see that made him think such a -thing might be necessary? Helene cowered on the seat beside him with -parted lips and staring eyes. Suddenly she saw what it was. A -Dardanian sprang from some bushes on the right of the road, and -standing in front of the horses, waved his arms and shouted. They -swerved aside, but Cyril brought them round again, and as the man -tried to leap up on the step of the carriage as it passed him, struck -at him with the whip. He fell back, but at the same moment a fusilade -broke out from the bushes, and terrified the horses beyond control. -The high pole which marked the frontier, bearing on this side the -emblems of Dardania, on the other those of Pannonia, was only a little -way in front, and just beyond it were the gendarmes and their officer, -drawn up in line, with their rifles ready. Cyril made a last effort to -direct the horses into the lane kept open for them between the two -ranks of men, but they dashed violently to the left, where the ground -sank into a kind of wooden glen. - -“Jump, Lenchen, jump!” cried Cyril, but Helene was too much frightened -to obey. She was conscious of a violent jolt, a crackling of branches, -the sensation of falling. There were shouts and cries, then a great -silence. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII. - THE PRICE TO BE PAID. - -It was late at night, but the windows of the little inn at Drinitza -were still ablaze with lights. In the sitting-room which was held -sacred to Lord and Lady Usk, Cyril was lying upon a sofa, while Mr -Hicks bandaged systematically and scientifically the various injuries -he had received in being thrown out of the buggy. Usk was wandering in -and out of the room, restless and savagely miserable, for Helene had -not recovered consciousness since she was extricated from the wrecked -carriage, and Hannele and the doctor from Novigrad were with her -upstairs, and would not allow him even near her door. - -“There, Count!” said Mr Hicks, tying a final knot; “I guess you’re -about fixed up now, and I incline to think a meal of some sort would -be a judicious investment after all this mussing around. Lord Usk, if -we might requisition the services of that excellent William of yours -to forage for us----” - -“Oh, tell him to do anything you like,” said Usk wearily, stepping out -on the terrace for the twentieth time. “I don’t want him.” - -The others heard him tramping up and down outside while William -removed the traces of Mr Hicks’s surgical labours, and brought in a -hastily prepared meal. Seeing that Cyril was helpless with a sprained -wrist, the servant asked if he should cut up his meat for him, but the -offer was declined. Presently Usk, finding the companionship of his -own thoughts intolerable, came back into the room. - -“Now, Lord Usk,” said Mr Hicks cheerfully, “just sit down and eat -something.” - -“No, no, I don’t want anything,” was the hasty answer. - -“Do you really feel that you can’t break bread with me, Usk?” asked -Cyril, pausing in his efforts to feed himself with his left hand. - -“It’s not that, of course. Here, let me cut that up for you, uncle. -It’s simply that I can’t eat.” - -“It is that. You feel that if it had not been for me that poor little -girl upstairs would have been sitting here with you as usual. It’s -quite true, but do you need to hear me say that if I had known what -was to happen I would never have stirred a step to escape--that I -would go back and give myself up to Gregorescu this moment if it would -do her any good?” - -“It’s not that,” repeated Usk. “I know it wasn’t your fault--or -Hicks’s or mine, except that we ought never to have let her come--but -that we, all of us strong men, should have got through without a -scratch, and a little delicate girl like her--oh, God! when we got her -out from under the buggy----” his voice failed. - -“Well, the Count has a good few scratches to show any way,” said Mr -Hicks judicially, “and so has that good fellow William, blubbering out -that he wished he was killed and her ladyship not hurt. But if I were -you, Lord Usk, I guess I’d find something else to do beyond tearing my -hair and scarifying my soul with remorse that way. You’ll be a fine -washed-out article when they want you upstairs to give a hand with the -nursing. Now, for your wife’s sake!” he took Usk by the shoulders, and -pushed him down into a chair, “I’ll have you make some sort of a meal, -or I’ll warn the doctor that it’ll only mean another patient on his -hands if he lets you sit up.” - -“I can’t hear what they are doing from here,” objected Usk. - -“Nor can any of us. But we can hear if they open the door, or come out -in the upper hall, and that’s just all you want. Now the Count is -going to tell us something of what he’s been through. Yes, sir,” he -added firmly, in response to a look of remonstrance from Cyril, “I -guess I mean just that.” - -“You needn’t think you’re going to make any sensational discoveries, -Hicks. We may suspect till all is blue, but the real movers in the -plot have covered up their traces too well to be brought to book.” - -“Ah, I sort of suspicioned that they weren’t taking any risks. But I’d -as lief know the way they fixed things up, Count, from that very -evening when you swam out of our ken, like a new kind of planet.” - -For a moment Cyril hesitated still. “It’s not the kind of story to -make a man altogether proud,” he said, “for whenever I was outwitting -our friends the enemy most completely, I seem to have been making it -easier for them to keep a tight hold on me. But you shall hear. Of -course our driver must have been drugged when we got to Klotsch that -evening, and it had probably been made worth the landlord’s while not -to be in too great a hurry to supply his place. At any rate, poor -Paschics and I walked on a good way, and at last, thinking that as we -had paid for the carriage, it was not much good doing the journey on -our own feet, sat down by the roadside to wait for it. I think it was -the first time in our joint lives that we were ever caught napping, -and we have paid dearly enough for it, both of us, Heaven knows! but -who would ever have anticipated danger on that straight piece of high -road? There were not even woods on each side--merely rocks, and those -stunted shrubs the goats eat. We were just beyond the turning which -leads to this road below you here, down into Dardania, sitting rather -high up on the bank so as to be out of the dust. Suddenly we were -seized from behind, and blindfolded with something thrown over our -heads. We hadn’t a chance to struggle. How many men there were against -us I don’t know, but they carried us off quite easily, and when they -took the cloak off my head again I was in a carriage, which must have -been waiting just out of sight in the side-road. There was a woman in -it--Tania Garanine, the Scythian actress--and when I saw her I knew -the true inwardness of the plot at once. She is a favourite tool of -Soudaroff’s; and the Princess of Dardania turned her on when she -wanted to keep her son from marrying Princess Emilia of Magnagrecia. -The young fellow was staunch, you know, which didn’t make the fair -Tania any more kindly disposed towards me, who had made up the match. -She looked quite radiant when I found myself opposite her in the -carriage, and made no bones about answering my questions. It was -desirable that I should be out of the way for a time, she told me, but -everything would be done to make the short seclusion as pleasant as -possible, and if I would give my word not to attempt to escape, I -should be allowed a considerable degree of freedom. Since my revolver -was gone, and my feet were fastened together, and my hands tied in -front of me, it seemed rather unnecessary to ask for my parole, and I -refused it promptly. She didn’t seem to mind, but the fellow who sat -beside me immediately poked the muzzle of a revolver into my neck, and -remarked that he would fire if I moved. There was another man -opposite, also with a revolver, and poor Paschics was at the bottom of -the carriage, apparently choking. I pointed out to the lady that if -she didn’t want him to die before her eyes, she had better have the -thing taken off his head, and she gave the order with a sweet smile, -as a personal favour to me, she said. Just at that moment we passed -another carriage--an elaborate old-fashioned affair with Dardanian -outriders--coming in the opposite direction, towards Europe, and the -man in it bowed very impressively to Mlle. Garanine.” - -“Prince Valerian Pelenko!” cried Mr Hicks. “Then I guess he told the -exact truth, after all, when he said he had seen you riding with that -lady, and on the best of terms with her.” - -“Probably, since he could not see the revolver, and the carriage-rug -was drawn up over my hands. Did--did my wife hear it?” - -“We all heard it, Count, but no one believed a word of it. To us it -was only one more attempt to take away your character.” - -“But she might have believed it!” cried Usk violently. “It might have -pained her most awfully. Why didn’t you cry out, Uncle Cyril, even if -you were shot the next moment? At least she would have known that -their whole story was a lie.” - -“Would she?” asked Cyril. “My dear Usk, do you think my enemies would -not have been able to arrange things so as to give her greater pain -still? As it happened, Prince Pelenko was able to do his part without -departing from the apparent truth, but do you think he would have -objected to go a little beyond it if necessary? Would it have been -much consolation to my wife to learn that I had shot myself, whether -accidentally or otherwise, when in Mlle. Garanine’s company? You may -say that it would have been no worse than to hear that I was in her -company living, but you must remember that I fully expected to be able -to escape with Paschics in two or three days at most. If I had thought -I should be a prisoner for more than three months!--well, I may tell -you that many and many a time I have wished I had called out as you -suggest, and taken the consequences.” - -“I think I hear them moving upstairs,” interrupted Usk, and he went to -the door and listened, but came back almost immediately, sitting down -at the table with the same gloomy face. - -“Go ahead, Count!” said Mr Hicks. “I want to know right now what -happened.” - -“Nothing happened for some time, except that Mlle. Garanine threw out -hints which were evidently intended to make me believe that I was -merely wanted out of the way for a day or two while a revolution was -carried through in Thracia. It was an ingenious idea, for, of course, -with Michael out of the kingdom, and most of the Ministers away at his -wedding, the time would have been well chosen, but I knew I must have -had some inkling of it if things had gone so far, and I was prepared -to believe anything rather than what she told me. I felt pretty -certain that it was the affairs of Palestine, and not of Thracia, -which were concerned, and that I was wanted out of the way for a good -deal longer than a day or two. I saw several ways in which they might -try to manage it, but I reserved my judgment until we stopped at that -accursed house down there----” he waved his hand towards the hill at -the back of the inn. “If you knew what it has been to be certain that -there were friends and safety within a mile of me, and yet to be -unable to take a step towards them----! I should like to tear that -house down stone by stone, and make it a desolation for ever----” - -“And bury Dr Gregorescu and his Dardanians under the ruins?” asked Mr -Hicks. - -“No,” said Cyril calmly. “That would be too good for them. That man -has made me twenty years older in these three months. I saw the whole -plot as soon as I was face to face with him and heard his name, and it -was the very worst of the alternatives I had imagined. You will wonder -how I knew. Well, I don’t think I am a coward generally. Hicks, you -and I have been in some tight places together; what do you say?” - -“No man less so, Count.” - -“Thanks. But there is one thing before which I am an abject coward, -and that is poison. Not ordinary poison--just going to sleep and not -waking up again--nor even the fancy kinds which twist you up into an -arch before they’ve done with you, but one particular kind of poison, -the thought of which used to give me the horrors whenever I let myself -remember it while I was in Thracia. Taken in small quantities, it -doesn’t destroy life, only the mind--takes away a man’s memory, leaves -him a sort of perpetual child, do you see? The knowledge of it is -hereditary in one family, but for generations it has been at the -service of the Scythian Government, and occasionally it has been -used--not too often, so as to awaken suspicion, but just to get rid -effectually of some troublesome person whose death might cause remark. -All those years when I was practically the only barrier between -Ernestine and Michael and a Scythian protectorate, I went in deadly -fear of this devilish stuff. Of course I took precautions. Paschics -and Dietrich were staunch, if all the rest of my household were -traitors, but there was always the danger of the thing’s being -administered in some one else’s house. I inquired secretly into the -subject, and got some interesting information by bribing disappointed -Secret Service agents, so that I had some faint idea of the nature and -properties of the drug. Then I had an exhaustive list made of the -members of the family that prepared it, and their various marriages, -so that if I found myself in the neighbourhood of any of them I might -be on my guard. In the last generation, one of the daughters married a -Dacian named Gregorescu. Now you see why I knew my fate as soon as I -heard the doctor’s name. He was at the house, waiting to receive me, -and Mlle. Garanine delivered me over to him in the most matter-of-fact -way. She herself returned into Dardania at once--on horseback, I -presume, for the carriage could not cross the mountains, and was laid -up in the Pelenko stables--and the two men with revolvers went with -her. But we were no better off for that. The house was guarded by a -small army of Dardanians, who kept watch day and night, though of -course I didn’t find this out at once. My idea was to disarm the -doctor’s suspicions by pretending to swallow whole the notion of the -Thracian plot, and I harped on the subject till late at night. I -pointed out that it could not possibly be successful, but that I would -make it worth his while if he would release me at once. I appealed to -his cupidity, his ambition, everything I could think of, and at last -he thought it advisable to pretend to yield. He would think it over, -and let me know in the morning, he said, and in any case I might be -sure my captivity should be as pleasant as he could make it. I had -refused supper, but would I drink a little glass of benedictine with -him to show there was no ill-feeling? This was what I had been -expecting, and I agreed at once, only thankful he had chosen liqueur -and not coffee, which would have been much more difficult to manage. -The benedictine looked just as usual, except that I could just -distinguish a very slight--almost imperceptible--cloudiness about the -glass at my end of the tray.” - -“But why not have taken the other, and so forced on an explanation?” -demanded Usk, who had become interested in the recital in spite of -himself. - -“Because that was what I particularly wished not to do. My idea was to -make Gregorescu think I had taken the poison, and so gull him into -keeping a less strict watch on me. He would not venture to repeat the -experiment unless he was quite sure I had tricked him, for a second -dose would kill any man living, and I was pretty certain they did not -want me to die on their hands. For one thing, it would look bad if the -matter came out; for another, it would spoil the full effect of the -Princess of Dardania’s revenge. So I took up the glass and sipped it -quite calmly, to all appearance--only, instead of swallowing any of -the liqueur, I poured it down my sleeve a drop at a time, by a turn of -the wrist, when I raised the glass to my lips. He did not dare to -watch me very closely while I drank, lest I should suspect something, -and I am thankful to say my nerve lasted until the glass was empty. I -thought then it was about the stiffest piece of acting I had ever been -driven to. If I had known that I had to carry it on for three months! -Afterwards I spoke a little thickly, and let him help me to my room. -He was watching for the symptoms, and was quite satisfied, but early -in the morning he very nearly had me. Poor Paschics, of course, knew -nothing of the whole affair. He was imprisoned somewhere by himself, -but in the morning they left his door open, and he crept along the -passage to find me. I saw him standing over me with his finger on his -lips when I woke, and I was just going to explain things to him when -it struck me that his being allowed to be there was suspicious, and I -pretended not to know him. It was heartbreaking to see the state he -was in, but I persisted, and it was well I did, for Gregorescu was -spying on us the whole time. I found out his spy-hole afterwards. He -thought it was all right then, and came and had poor Paschics taken -away, apologising to me for his intrusion. I looked as puzzled as I -could, and when I got up did my best to make it clear that my mind was -a blank--that I did not know Gregorescu himself, or where I was, or -who I was, or anything that had happened. For the first day or two he -used to try to catch me out, starting subjects suddenly, or asking -questions, and it’s just a chance that the strain didn’t make me as -mad as he thought I was. But when he felt pretty sure of the vacuum, -he began to fill it after a fashion by suggestion. I was Prince -Shishman Pelenko, and I was gradually fitted with a past to match the -name--all hinted most carefully, and wedged into my mind, so to speak, -by leading questions. It was horribly cleverly done, and when -Gregorescu thought his work was complete, he had it inspected--by -Prince Soudaroff himself. It was a good thing that I had had fair -practice in guile by that time, or I could never have held out, but I -baffled even him. He also went away quite satisfied----” - -“And met us on the hill here, and told us a whole lot of lies about -Shishman Pelenko,” said Usk savagely. - -“Well,” said Mr Hicks, with some complacency, “I guess the champion -liar of Europe had met his match that time, any way.” - -“Thanks for the compliment!” said Cyril. “I believe now that his -perfect satisfaction with what he had seen and heard must have made -him less clear-sighted with regard to what was going on in Neustria. -He thought that with me helpless and in safe custody he had nipped the -Palestine scheme in the bud, but no doubt he intended to make things -safe after a while by opening negotiations with Ernestine and -Goldberg, and handing me over, as a hopeless idiot, in exchange for a -promise that the existing state of affairs at Jerusalem should remain -undisturbed. It has been about the only consolation I have had, to -think that the real scheme would go on all the better because -Soudaroff was congratulating himself on having put a stop to the bogus -one. But I needed the consolation, for it was just about that time -that I lost poor Paschics. We had been kept so strictly apart that I -had never had a chance of conferring with him or explaining matters, -but he seems to have had some idea that I was only shamming madness. -At any rate, one night, when there was a tremendous thunderstorm, I -found him by my bed again. He did not utter a sound, simply took my -hand in the darkness, and talked on it in the deaf-and-dumb alphabet. -He said he believed he could escape under cover of the storm, for the -Dardanians were all in a lively state of funk, taking shelter wherever -they could, and he would bring back help and release me. I asked him -in the same way why I should not come too, but he told me that the -usual man--a rascally French-speaking Greek who posed as my personal -attendant--was on guard at my door, and had only let him pass when he -gave him all the money he had, under the pretext that I was always -afraid of thunder. In fact, I saw the fellow inside the room by the -next flash of lightning, listening jealously, but as he only saw -Paschics holding my hand, he got nothing to tell his master. Well, as -soon as the storm became less severe, Paschics departed, and the next -thing I heard was that he was dead.” - -“And was he murdered?” asked Usk quickly. - -“I believe not. As far as I could make out, he was trying to escape -along the roof, intending to climb down one of the trees which grew -near the end of the house, when Gregorescu discovered his absence and -turned out the Dardanians. When he saw they were after him, he turned -off to the edge of the roof, intending to drop from it to the back -verandah, and so to the ground; but the parapet was rotten all along, -and a great piece of it fell with him. He struggled up and threw -himself over the edge of the verandah, and actually ran a few steps; -then they saw him give a convulsive leap and fall to the ground. When -they got to him he was dead. The shock and the fall together were too -much for him, after the excitement and anxiety of the past weeks. That -was Gregorescu’s account, and I have no reason to doubt it.” - -“No; it’s in accordance with the medical evidence,” said Mr Hicks. -“Death due to shock, bruises inflicted before death; that was all.” - -“But it doesn’t explain our finding the body in the river,” said Usk. - -“That was to throw you off the scent,” said Cyril quickly. “Didn’t you -all go off to some place on the Mœsian frontier, miles away, to see -whether I was in that neighbourhood? But you didn’t rise to the -occasion as they hoped. You were quite expected to leave Drinitza, and -take up your quarters at Bagnanera.” - -“Then you heard something of our movements?” - -“Oh yes; they talked quite openly before me, at first to try and catch -me off my guard, and afterwards, when they were quite sure the drug -had taken effect, because there was no reason why they shouldn’t. They -had one more try to make me betray myself when they found Paschics was -dead, telling me of it suddenly, and I had to affect ignorance and -mystification, and go through the whole sickening show over again. It -was so long before Gregorescu was really convinced of my madness that -I suppose, in spite of all my care, I must have failed in some points, -but he seems to have satisfied himself at last that it was more likely -the drug should produce slightly different effects on different people -than that a man should carry on such a deception for so long. Then -came the news of the Neustrian revolution and Malasorte’s -dictatorship, and Soudaroff must have seen immediately that his plans -for making use of me were foiled. In a sense, all that had been done -was useless, except as a matter of personal revenge, and he could not -hope to do any successful trading with me in the future, since his -Emperor had gone behind him and was in league with Malasorte, and -Malasorte was in league with the Jews. I gathered that the plan now -was to smuggle me into Pannonia and leave me in a lunatic asylum -there, to be discovered or not by my friends, as circumstances might -determine----” - -“No, sir,” said Mr Hicks quickly; “you were to be discovered. Mlle. -Garanine took the trouble to come here on purpose to give the plan -away to us.” - -“That was to get us out of the way, as I said at the time,” remarked -Usk. “We were keeping too strict a watch on the neighbourhood to -please them.” - -“No doubt,” said Cyril; “and we must also remember that nothing would -satisfy the Princess of Dardania but to restore to my wife a husband -who could not even recognise her. The woman’s malice had to be -consulted as well as Soudaroff’s statecraft, you see. Well, you may -imagine my state of feeling, with such a prospect before me--a pauper -lunatic asylum, from which I might or might not be released before I -was driven really mad. Then there came poor Helene’s sudden -incursion.” Usk moved restlessly. “It was almost more than I could do -to keep up my pretence of not recognising her; but if I hadn’t done -it, I don’t believe she would have got away alive. As it was, I saw -her to the gate myself, and watched her out of sight, for those -bloodthirsty Dardanians were capable of anything, but I had disarmed -their suspicions so completely by that time that they all obeyed me in -ordinary matters as if I had really been Shishman Pelenko himself. But -Gregorescu was not going to risk Helene’s bringing back help. The last -thing he wished was to be caught on Pannonian soil, and to be -identified with my disappearance, so we prepared for a flitting at -once. The idea which he had so carefully ‘suggested’ to me, that my -life was in danger from unknown enemies, was worked again, and I was -warned I must escape at once. And I had to fall in with it, for I -couldn’t throw off the mask until help was actually at hand. When I -saw Helene again, alone, hiding in the bushes, just as we were -starting, I almost lost hope, for I couldn’t make her understand what -I wanted, and I could only trust no one else had seen her. If they -hadn’t found out who she was since the morning, by sending a spy to -track her back here, I haven’t a doubt she would have been killed, but -they were afraid of meddling with her further than by sending an old -woman to guide her astray while we got off.” - -“But how did you get off, any way, and what happened to the carriage, -Count?” cried Mr Hicks. - -“The carriage simply drove out of the gates and into the wood, where -it was left, while we went on with the horses alone,” answered Cyril. -“After your visit to the house the next day, it was restored to its -usual place, but when you were wondering which way it could have gone -without being seen, it was hidden in a thicket quite close to you. And -ourselves? Oh, we crossed the road and plunged into the hills on the -opposite side, and so made our way round by mountain-paths to the -house above the village, which Gregorescu had had in his eye for some -time in case he found it necessary to take the bull by the horns and -negotiate for my surrender instead of dumping me down in Pannonia. You -see, it was on Dardanian soil, and he knew you could not touch him -without a long diplomatic difficulty which would involve just what you -didn’t want--waste of time. You know how he worked the thing through -the mate of Queen Félicia’s yacht, and you know, Hicks, how very -close the shave was at last. I don’t know quite how I gave myself away -in that interview this morning--or yesterday morning now--my nerve is -not what it was, and my face may have shown what I was feeling, or -perhaps he merely put two and two together, but I swear I solemnly -believe that if I had been in his power for another day, he would have -forced me to take another dose of his drug, in some way that I could -not evade. Even as it was, I was in terror lest he should do it before -you came back, but he thought he had a week before him, and he didn’t -know I had seen what was in his mind. You were only just in time, Usk, -but I would rather you had been too late than that this should have -happened.” - -“It can’t be helped,” groaned Usk. “Oh, what are they doing with her -all this time? Can she be dead, and they haven’t told me?” - -“No, no,” said Mr Hicks. “They had a lot to do, and I guess no news is -good news. If you could sleep a little, now----?” - -A mute gesture of refusal from Usk answered him, and they waited on, -until at last the door of the room upstairs was heard to open. Usk met -the doctor half-way up the stairs. “Well?” he gasped. “How is she?” - -The doctor, who was a German and disapproved of misalliances, looked -him over severely before answering. “There is no sign of -consciousness,” he replied slowly. “It would be as well to summon her -Highness’s august parents as soon as possible, and there is a -specialist at Vindobona I should be glad to have at hand. It is not -likely he could suggest anything, but it is always a comfort to the -patient’s friends to feel that everything possible has been done.” - - -The Grand-Duke and Duchess came from Molzau, Queen Ernestine from her -sick-bed at Vindobona, Lord and Lady Caerleon from Geneva, where they -had just laid in the grave the exiled Pauline Vassilievna, who had -been more than a mother to Lady Caerleon. Never had the little inn at -Drinitza been so full, or entertained such important guests, but the -old landlord felt no desire to congratulate himself. The “little -Princess” had won every heart during her stay, and now, to all -appearance, she was dying. When her parents first arrived, she seemed -to recognise them--Usk was certain that she did--but she relapsed -immediately into a state in which she appeared to be conscious of -nothing but pain. As if it had not been agony enough to see her -suffer, Usk found very soon that the blame was supposed to be his. The -Grand-Duchess could not forgive either him or Cyril for the accident. -At least, she said resentfully, she thought she was securing a kind -and thoughtful husband for her Lenchen when she gave her to him, but -he had gone and sacrificed her to his uncle before they had been four -months married. She would have kept him out of the sick-room -altogether if she could, and when he insisted on taking part in the -nursing, mounted guard over him the whole time to make sure that he -did not disturb Helene by speaking to her. If Usk’s heart had not been -very sore, and a good deal troubled by remorse, for which no one but -himself and the Grand-Duchess could see any reason, he would have -rebelled; but he could not engage in a squabble over his wife’s -unconscious form, and his imperious mother-in-law rode roughshod over -him. To his astonishment, it was the Grand-Duke who took his part. He -also was banished from the sick-room, and he did not venture to -dispute his wife’s decision, but he made friends with Usk in a rough -kind of way, and they would take long walks together almost in -silence, finding a fellow-feeling in their common grief. The -Grand-Duchess, in a fury of maternal anxiety so vehement as almost to -be ludicrous, made no secret of the fact that she would have preferred -to be left with only Queen Ernestine and Lady Caerleon to share her -labours. True, she bore a grudge against the Queen because she was -Cyril’s wife, but she credited her with a genuine interest in Helene, -which she denied to any of the men. They could talk of politics, she -said with scorn, when Lenchen lay dying. The accusation had some -colour, unreasonable though it sounded. The question of the relations -between Michael and Félicia had reached an acute stage, and must -speedily become common property if no solution could be devised for -it. - -Up to this point, chiefly by the assiduous efforts of Baroness -Radnika, the fiction that Félicia was merely taking a short cruise, -and that her husband had not found time to join her, had been kept up. -Even the Pannonian Court had been willing to account for anything that -seemed strange in the arrangement by remembering Félicia’s American -education, but she had no mind to leave things in this state. When the -Grand-Duke and Duchess paid her a hurried visit on board the yacht on -their way to Drinitza, she told them the facts of the case with the -greatest frankness, and refused to hear of a reconciliation. A -separation she wanted, and a separation she would have, and the -Grand-Duke saw no way of avoiding a scandal. He took counsel with -Cyril and Mr Hicks (these conversations it was which aroused the -Grand-Duchess’s ire), and they beat their brains for some means of -bringing Félicia back to Bellaviste. King Michael was far from -implacable. He admired Félicia intensely, and was really as much in -love with her as it was possible to him to be, and he had the grace to -be heartily ashamed of his own part in the dispute. He saw it now -through Félicia’s eyes, and admired her secretly for resenting his -conduct, and he was also painfully alive to the ridicule that would -descend upon him if it came out that he had driven away his three -months’ bride by his groundless jealousy. He was willing to make -promises and concessions for the future, but Félicia opposed a simple -negative to all his proposals. Once more Cyril became the natural -go-between, and travelled first to Bellaviste to interview the King, -and then across the peninsula to Paranati to try to influence -Félicia, but all in vain. - -These journeys were not undertaken without strong remonstrance from -Queen Ernestine, who never saw her husband depart without fearing that -his enemies might contrive to get him again into their power. But he -never travelled without either the Grand-Duke, Mr Hicks, or Lord -Caerleon, and two or three armed servants, and with such precautions -it was not likely that he would now incur danger. Dr Gregorescu had -prudently disappeared, and his Dardanians were merged again in the -general mass of their fellow-countrymen. It was in the highest degree -unlikely that either Prince Soudaroff or the Princess of Dardania -would attempt any further hostile move, when the victim was able to -recount the whole history of the one that had just failed, although he -had not at present chosen to make it public. Moreover, the political -reasons which had induced the Scythian Chancellor to join in the plot -existed no longer, and he recognised that he had been cleverly led -aside by a false clue. Before the Emperor Timoleon V. had sat for a -month upon the throne of Neustria, the world was startled by a -rescript issued jointly by himself and his brother monarch of Scythia. -From this document it appeared that the Scythian troops which had for -three years occupied Jerusalem would be withdrawn immediately, and the -city handed over to the representatives of the Jewish provisional -government which had sat during that period at Nablus. Palestine would -be neutralised, and the Jewish State guaranteed in its independence -and privileges (nothing being said of the shadowy suzerainty of Roum) -by Neustria, Scythia, and the United States of America. - -There was little real opposition to the measure. The new alliance was -immensely formidable, besides representing roughly the three Christian -creeds which were wont to battle over the sacred soil. England had -lost her opportunity of protesting when she acquiesced in the Scythian -occupation of Jerusalem three years before, and Hercynia was quieted -by receiving compensation elsewhere, as usual at the expense of Roum. -There was a wild outcry from the mass of the poorer Jews that no -provision was made for appointing a Prince of Palestine, but Cyril -made it known that he should refuse to be nominated even if the post -were constituted. As he had said, the agony of his captivity had made -him an old man all at once, and he felt no temptation to mingle any -longer in politics. It was typical of the change wrought in the man by -the disastrous result of his last experience of the political arena, -that he now desired nothing more than to return with his wife to the -oasis in the Syrian desert, within whose narrow limits he had so often -chafed, and there end his days in quietness. - -And in the mean time, while the two Emperors were reorganising the map -of the world, and Félicia was reiterating her undying defiance of her -husband, Helene still lay unconscious in the inn at Drinitza. The -agonies of pain had passed, but she did not recover. She had not -sufficient vitality, the doctors said, to rally from the shock and the -long suffering, and it was not unlikely that her life would flicker -out without so much as a return to consciousness. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV. - _RISORGIMENTO._ - -As to Helene herself, the days and weeks passed by without her -knowledge. Once only since the accident had she waked to a brief -interval of full consciousness, and that was when the old home voices -first penetrated her dulled ear. Her father and mother were in the -room as well as Usk, and she lay looking at them without their -perceiving it, making no attempt to speak. But when the Grand-Duchess -broke down and wept stormily, crying out to Usk, “You stole her away -from us, and this is the way you take care of her!” the injustice of -the speech moved her to protest. She tried to speak, but no words -would come, and though Usk met her anguished eyes, and nodded -reassuringly at her, she could not vindicate him. She saw her father -lay his hand upon his shoulder, as though he felt he was unjustly -accused, but the Grand-Duchess was evidently implacable. Helene still -struggled to speak, but the effort was too great, and she relapsed -into immobility, which yet was not complete unconsciousness, for she -was very conscious of pain, although the outer world was a blank to -her. To herself she seemed to be borne and buffeted on a sea of pain; -she sounded its lowest depths, and was carried up to the height of its -hugest waves. There was the pain which attacked her in a succession of -violent shocks, like billows breaking over a helpless shipwrecked man -on a rocky shore, and swept her away at last into such agony that she -was forced to scream; and the pain which crept upwards slowly and -gradually, like a gently rising tide, until her whole frame seemed -nothing but one dull, paralysing ache, and all kinds and degrees of -pain between these two extremes. She battled against this sea, she -thought, although in some strange way the sound of the breakers and -the throb of the rising waves was inside her head and not outside, as -though she was playing the traitor to herself, but it attacked her -persistently in fresh ways, and she felt that it must prove the -stronger at last. But just when her strength was altogether at an end, -and she knew that she could struggle no longer, the necessity for -struggling ceased. There was no sea at all, either rough or smooth, -and she was drifting gently down a broad calm river. Sometimes she had -glimpses of scenes on the banks, sometimes she heard strange toneless -voices speaking loudly, although she could not distinguish what they -said, but she never saw any place or person or heard any voice that -she knew. Most often, although the sensation of floating continued, -the sights before her eyes were merely complicated patterns, endless -in diversity and colour, which melted one into another like those of a -kaleidoscope. It was very interesting to watch them, and she followed -their changes eagerly, drifting down the river all the time. - -There came disquieting interruptions to her enjoyment at last. Voices -called to her--not the unknown voices of her visions, but voices that -she knew--called to her earnestly, entreatingly, forcing themselves -upon her attention when she desired only to watch the moving patterns. -She felt a kind of resentment against these voices--a sort of -malicious satisfaction in the fact that she could not answer their -appeals, for there seemed to be a weight on her lips that kept them -from moving. If only the voices would leave her in peace! There they -were again, calling: “Lenchen, Lenchen! my little Lenchen! look at me, -speak to me!” Before her eyes was a dun expanse flecked by splashes of -colour that came and went, and against this background shadowy discs -and half-discs appeared vaguely, took definite shape, became flaming -and metallic, and vanished slowly away, as she watched them with -breathless interest. She could not answer the cry that reached her, -for the weight was still upon her lips, but it banished the vision, -and in its place she saw a curious patchwork of many shapes and -colours and patterns, something like the mosaic which industrious -persons construct with small pieces of broken china sunk in cement. -This also was interesting, although it had not the fascination of -those advancing and receding discs, and she was watching the mosaic -brighten and fade and re-group itself in new designs, when another -voice broke in upon the dream, and made it vanish in its turn. - -“Nell! Nell!” the voice cried, in tones of agony, and for the first -time Helene felt an impulse to answer. But the weight was still upon -her lips, and on the whole she was glad of it. Turning aside, as it -were, petulantly from the call, she set herself joyfully to the -contemplation of a myriad tiny bunches of pink-tipped daisies, -floating in an atmosphere of dark dull green, which appealed to her -almost more than all that had gone before. Nothing could be lovelier -than this. Would it stay? would the daisy-buds unfold, or would they -vanish into something else? Helene never knew, for into the midst of -her vision came another sound, clear and distinct, the sound of a sob, -before which the vision departed suddenly. She opened her eyes. There -seemed to be no one in the room, but the sound of another sob guided -her eyes to where Usk was kneeling beside the bed, his face hidden in -the coverlid. The sight awoke Helene to pity and concern at once. - -“Why, Nym!” she said, but her voice was the smallest, faintest -whisper, and when she tried to stretch out her hand to lay it on the -dark head just beyond her reach, she found that she could barely lift -a finger. Usk heard the whisper, however, and as he lifted his head -Helene had an odd feeling that the changes of which she had seen so -many in her dreams were still going on, for his face was convulsed -with pain when he raised it first, but as she looked at him she saw -that he was smiling at her. It was most perplexing, but she smiled -back at him, and then felt more perplexed still, for those warm drops -that fell on her hand as he kissed it were certainly tears. - -“Why, Nym!” she said again; and then suddenly, after a pause, “Nym, -are you crying because I am going to die?” - -“No--nonsense!--Of course not----” but his voice failed. - -“I am so glad,” said Helene, smiling radiantly, and Usk was cut to the -heart. Had it come to this, that he had so utterly failed to make her -happy that she was glad to die and leave him? But she was holding his -hand fast. - -“Sit beside me, Nym--close,” she said eagerly, though her voice was so -weak that he was obliged to lean over her to hear what she was saying, -“and hold my hand. Don’t let me drift down the river any more. If I -do, I shall drift away, I know. Speak to me, call out to me, if you -see me drifting, and hold my hand, so that you can pull me back.” - -“Are you afraid of going to sleep, dear?” - -“No. I should like to sleep, but it is the river. It is pleasant--oh, -so pleasant! but it will carry me away. Only you can keep me back, -Nym. Your voice has driven the visions away. I think I could sleep -safely if you put your arm round me, for I couldn’t drift then. You -won’t let me go, will you?” - -Not understanding in the least what she meant, and half inclined to -think that she was still delirious, Usk passed his left arm under her -head, still holding her right hand firmly in his own. Presently her -eyes closed, but almost immediately they opened once more as she -cried, “Oh, I was drifting again! Hold me, Nym; hold me!” - -“I have got you quite safe,” he answered, and at last she dropped -asleep. Usk, trying to change his cramped position without waking her, -happened to look towards the door, and saw the Grand-Duchess standing -there, beckoning imperiously to him to come away. He shook his head, -and tried to intimate that Helene must not be waked. His mother-in-law -crept up to the bed. - -“You have disturbed her!” she whispered angrily. “You have dared to -move her! You may have killed my poor child!” - -“No; I have saved her, I think,” Usk whispered back. “She asked me to -hold her.” - -“She asked you! She has spoken, then?” - -“Yes. She seemed pleased to find me here, and as long as she wants me -I shall stay.” He could not bring himself to mention the words which -had wounded him so sorely. He had taken his one small piece of revenge -on the Grand-Duchess for the reproaches she had heaped upon him, and -he would not put another weapon into her hand immediately. - -“And after all, she turns to you instead of to me!” said Helene’s -mother, desolately; and Usk forbore to say that he could not -conscientiously see any reason why she should not. He maintained his -position, despite cramp and stiffness, until Helene awoke, and -recognised her mother, and in the joy of that fact he and the -Grand-Duchess buried their enmity. It would be long before Helene -could return to her old active life,--there were weary months of pain -and languor before her; but at least she would not slip out of life -through sheer lack of interest in it, as she had been doing when Usk’s -voice recalled her. And yet, while the Grand-Duchess was unfeignedly -grateful for her daughter’s hope of recovery, and really glad she was -happy with her husband, a curious maternal jealousy made it impossible -for her ever to forget that it was Usk’s voice, and not her own, which -had brought Helene back from death. - -“Nym,” said Helene to her husband one day, in a puzzled tone, “why -does mamma think you are not kind to me?” - -“I’m sure I don’t know, unless you have told her so. I haven’t done -anything particularly brutal just lately, have I?” - -“Nym! as if I could be so wicked as to say things against you! But she -seems to think the accident was your fault, and I have told her over -and over again that it was mine for laying hold of the whip. And she -blames the dear Count too, and nothing I can say will put it right.” - -“Well, perhaps you made shocking revelations in your delirium. I know -you nearly broke my heart one day by something you said.” - -“Something I said? What was it?” - -“You said you were glad to be going to die.” - -“I didn’t! I couldn’t! To leave you!” - -“I’ll take my oath of it. You asked me if that was why I was crying.” - -“Of course! I knew it! It was because you were crying that I was -glad--to think you were so sorry to lose me.” - -“Well, this is startling and gratifying, I must say, after all my -heroic determination to make you glad that you were alive, after all.” - -“Did you determine to make me glad I was alive, Nym? What were you -going to do? Tell me.” - -“Why, I thought I would take you home--to England, I mean--by sea, -before the winter gales begin, and that we would stay at Llandiarmid -for a bit. I meant to get a low pony-carriage to drive you about in, -and I thought we would spend whole days in the woods as long as it was -warm enough. You don’t know what the Llandiarmid woods are in autumn, -Nell--how black the yew-trees look among the oaks and beeches on the -river-cliff, and how pretty the golden birches are against the Scotch -firs. And I thought we would take long drives, and stop at the -farmhouses, and the tenants’ wives would come out to be introduced to -you, and tell you what a wretch of a husband you had got hold of, and -ask if you wouldn’t have a sup of new milk to bring some colour into -your cheeks. And my mother would pet you, of course, and get so fond -of you that I should have to forbid your going into the village with -her, lest I should see nothing of you myself. And then perhaps you -might be well enough about the end of November to come up to -Southumberland with me, if the General Election was on then--not to -canvass, of course, but just to go about with me and attract votes by -looking so miserably pale, as if I ill-treated you, you know. That’s -just what I thought, you see.” - -“And now?” asked Helene breathlessly, smiling and flushing. - -“Oh, now it’s unnecessary, isn’t it?” - -“Couldn’t you pretend it was necessary, Nym?” - -“Oh, you like the programme, do you? Then we will pretend it’s -necessary, Nell. Every evening I shall ask you, ‘Are you glad yet that -you’re alive?’ and you will be hard-hearted, and say, ‘Not yet.’” - -“No, I shan’t,” said Helene, growing pink again. “I am glad because -you are--because you don’t repent. You don’t, do you?” - -“Repent what? Nell, don’t be a baby.” - -“Oh, I have made you angry!--but you know what I mean. You don’t mind -having married me instead of Félicia, do you? I just want to hear you -say it--only that.” - -“I’m not angry, but I should be if you were not such a child. Have I -deserved this, Nell? I can’t say that I have never thought of Félicia -since I married you, but I can say that I never think of her without -being thankful I didn’t marry her. And you have been treasuring up -that old piece of foolishness against me all this time!” - -“I haven’t! I haven’t! It came over me suddenly that I wanted to hear -you say it, though I knew it quite well. And I had a reason, Nym. You -don’t mind my not telling you what it is, do you? You will know very -soon. I want to ask Aunt Ernestine something first.” - -“Shall I ask her to come and see you?” - -“Oh, please do. And you are not really angry, Nym?” - -“No, I am not. But it would serve you right if I said I was, you -little mischief-maker!” But Helene’s blissful smile did not look as -though the epithet troubled her. - -“Well, Lenchen darling?” asked the Queen as she came in; “what is it -you want me to do?” - -“It isn’t anything for myself,” said Helene, somewhat timidly. -“It’s--it’s just that I have been thinking so much about Michael and -Félicia, and I wondered why you didn’t go and speak to her yourself.” - -“Why, what good could I do, Lenchen? My husband has tried, your father -has tried, Mr Hicks has tried, and she won’t listen to any of them.” - -“Yes, I know. But you see, Aunt Ernestine, I don’t think they have any -of them taken her the right way. Papa tells her that she will create a -European scandal, and disgrace all her relations, and she doesn’t mind -that a bit. The dear Count reminds her that people will say horrid -things about her, and that she won’t be received at Vindobona, and she -rather glories in it. Mr Hicks tells her that her money is invested in -Thracia, and she may lose a good deal of it, and she says she doesn’t -care. When they told her even that the Thracian Legislature would -dissolve the marriage if she wouldn’t come back, she was startled at -first, but she only said she would chance it. Oh, I know exactly what -they would each say. I make mamma tell me all about it. But no one has -gone to her yet simply as a woman. There must be some way of reaching -her and working on her feelings, you know, and you are Michael’s -mother, you love them both--why don’t you do it?” - -“My little Lenchen, I am afraid I have only thought how wicked it was -of her to leave Michael, and it wouldn’t soften her much to hear -that.” - -“Ah, but you will think of her side of it too?” asked Helene -earnestly. “I think she must be terribly miserable all this time. Just -imagine if I had run away from Usk, how I should feel!” - -“I fear there isn’t much likeness between you and Félicia, Lenchen,” -said the Queen, kissing her. “But I have always intended to see what I -could do if all other means failed, and I will try now instead of -waiting any longer. And I will try to look at the matter from her -point of view.” - -Thus it was that when Cyril made his next journey across the mountains -to Paranati, his wife accompanied him. She was slightly nervous as to -her reception on board the Bluebird, for her conscience told her that -Helene’s words were true. In her horror at Félicia’s unheard-of -behaviour, she had forgotten to inquire whether Félicia might seem to -herself to have sufficient reason for it. What Cyril thought of her -sudden determination to go with him she did not know, for he refused -to discuss the situation with her, lest Félicia should suspect her of -having been primed by him. Maimie, who had come on shore to meet them, -looked at her keenly, but was equally reticent. Of her Queen Ernestine -was a little afraid, not knowing whether to regard her as Félicia’s -evil genius or as a moderating influence, and she did not like to -question her as to Félicia’s feelings. Félicia herself looked -thinner and a little worn, and the Queen wondered whether it was -_ennui_ that was telling upon her, or a sense of her equivocal -position, as impressed upon her by Cyril and the Grand-Duke. She -rebuked herself immediately for lack of charity, and wondered why she -could not simply believe that Félicia really cared for Michael, and -was regretting the step she had taken. But this she found impossible, -which was a bad beginning to her mission. - -“Well,” said Félicia suddenly, when they were alone together, “why -are you come? I guess it wasn’t just for your health. Did Mr Hicks -send you?” - -“No; certainly not,” answered Queen Ernestine, taken aback by the tone -and accent of the question as much as by its drift, “but I should have -been very glad to come sooner if I had known you would like to see -me.” - -Félicia laughed scornfully. “Mr Hicks thought he would get you here -and have you talk me over, but I told him if he said a single word to -you I wouldn’t see you when you came. But why did you come, any way?” - -“It was not Mr Hicks who sent me. It was my niece Helene, Usk’s wife.” - -“Do tell! Is she so happy that she wants to see every one else happy -too?” - -“I think that was her feeling.” - -“Oh, it wasn’t because if I remained unattached I might attract her -husband away from her?” - -“I am quite certain she had no thought of the kind. She has no fear -for her husband, and she need have none.” The Queen spoke strongly, -for the suggestion had made her angry, but it occurred to her that -this was not a very propitious opening to the interview. She drew -nearer to her daughter-in-law. “Félicia,” she said, “you believe I -wish you well, don’t you? My only desire is to see you and Michael -living happily together. Do you feel it quite impossible”--she -hesitated a little over the form of the question--“to return to him.” - -“Quite,” answered Félicia calmly. “The insult was too great. He had -absolutely no excuse for his conduct.” - -“I don’t want to palliate it, but--had he any reason to think you -would listen patiently if he spoke to you first? Was there such -confidence between you that his jealousy was palpably unreasonable?” - -“I don’t know what you mean,” said Félicia, sitting up in her chair, -her eyes flashing. “If you are trying to shift the blame on to me----” - -“I am not, believe me. All I mean is that you and Michael together had -treated Usk very cruelly. Had Michael any guarantee that you would not -treat him in the same way if you could?” - -“I don’t know,” with a superb gesture of disdain. “I just expect to be -trusted without any question of guarantees. Your son has had to learn -that, and I guess the world will know it too before long.” - -“But, Félicia, you must make allowances for Michael. I don’t defend -his action, but will you not forgive it? I believe he really loves -you, and I think he must have had some idea of satisfying his mind -without entering on a disagreeable subject with you.” - -“But he broke open my bureau to read my letters,” Félicia persisted. - -“I know--but he has been punished for it. And he is anxious for your -forgiveness, and has done all he could to shield your name.” - -“Oh, that’s the Baroness’s doing,” said Félicia lazily. - -“You make it very hard for me to plead for him. Surely, Félicia, you -must have a little kindness left for him--the man you promised to love -and honour?” - -“I thought it was generally understood that those promises were made -because one couldn’t get married without them,” said Félicia. “How -has he kept his?” - -“You must have some slight feeling for him, or you could not be so -bitter. See, Félicia, I am his mother, and for his sake I lay aside -my pride, and entreat you to forgive him. It is well that he should -know how a woman regards such an insult as he offered you; but what -will be the effect on him if his penitence brings him no pardon? You -have a great opportunity before you now. He admires you, loves you, -feels that he has misjudged you shamefully. If you return to him, you -may exert such an influence over him as may change his whole -character. I don’t mean that he will ever be a husband on whose -strength you can lean, but if you choose to--to fascinate him, as you -can fascinate any man if you will, you may be of the greatest service -both to him and the kingdom----” - -“Yes; it’s all right for Michael and the kingdom, but where do I come -in?” cried Félicia shrilly. “I want to have a good time.” - -“I think that is what you have always aimed at,” suggested Queen -Ernestine, with unintentional irony, “and it has never yet----” - -“Materialised,” supplied Félicia. “That is so, but I don’t expect now -to find it in a little no-account State way back in the Balkans.” - -“Perhaps if you don’t think so much about the good time it will be -more likely to come to you. Think of your duty, instead, both as wife -and as queen. Ah, Félicia, you can do so much for the kingdom. I -tried, and failed. For the sake of the kingdom, I put aside my life’s -happiness for thirteen years--and at the end of those years it seemed -that I had lost it for ever. I don’t pretend that I made the sacrifice -with a good grace--my husband could tell you quite the contrary--but -at least I tried. You have none of my disadvantages. I was much -younger than you are, and very soon made myself unpopular by listening -to unwise advice, and I was foolishly jealous of the king’s wisest and -most trusted adviser. You are beautiful, rich, fascinating, and you -are not afraid of taking your own line. I think you have a shrewd -adviser in Miss Logan. I know you have a faithful one in Baroness -Radnika----” - -“I guess you don’t know that Maimie and I don’t speak now,” -interrupted Félicia. “We’ve quarrelled about this. She would like to -have me accept Michael’s apology, and go right back.” - -“And you have quarrelled with her? Oh, Félicia, she may have given -you unwise advice at other times, but she is right now. I looked -forward to your doing so much in Thracia in raising the condition of -the women. They are so despised, so badly treated by the men--almost -as badly as the Roumi women. And if the men take your doings as a -sample of what is to be expected from civilised womanhood----” - -“It will put back the clock in the Balkans a century at least?” -suggested Félicia. “And to prevent that you’d have me take Michael -back into favour?” - -“No,” said the Queen, wincing slightly, “to prevent your both leading -soured, loveless lives apart from each other, always in search of -pleasure and never finding it. If Michael were not penitent, I would -not ask you to return to him. But you will understand each other -better, you will grow nearer to each other after this separation, will -you not?” - -“I guess Michael will understand me better, any way. But I don’t -incline to go nearer to him than now--not much!” - -“Félicia!” cried Queen Ernestine, in bitter disappointment, “is there -nothing that will move you? Have you no regard for any one or -anything?” - -“That I have,--a real strong regard for one woman that no other person -seems to think of at all. All of you come and talk to me about the -kingdom, and Michael, and my own august relations, and political -exigencies, and you yourself try to work upon my feelings for -everything all round, but I myself count for just nothing. I have to -watch out for my own interests, and I mean to do it. There isn’t one -of you cares a cent for me----” - -“Indeed we do, Félicia,” protested her mother-in-law feebly. - -“As Michael’s recalcitrant wife, maybe--not for myself. But I have one -adviser that’s shrewd enough, as you say, and she don’t care a cent -for any of you--just for me alone, though I was awfully ugly to her -last time we spoke, and if I listen to any one, it’ll be to her. -Maime,” she raised her voice, “come right in. I didn’t feel like -listening to you last time we talked, but now you may just state what -you think. What good would it do me to go back to Michael?” - -“Why, just this,” said Maimie promptly, advancing into the cabin, and -speaking with entire disregard of Queen Ernestine and her feelings, -“you’ve staked out your claim, and you’ve got to work it.” - -“You had me do it,” objected Félicia. - -“And if I did, I’ll help you see the thing through. It’s not what you -expected, maybe, but it’s payable gold, and you won’t do better any -other place.” - -“Now that’s what I don’t see.” - -“Well, just listen. Put it you act the way you want to, and go right -back to the States. Michael will get a divorce, and you’ll have to -stick over there, for you won’t be received at any Court in Europe.” - -“Well, I guess America’s good enough for me,” but the tone was less -resolute. Maimie seized upon the hint of wavering. - -“_Is_ that so? How will you feel to go back to old times after what -you’ve got accustomed to these days? Félicia Steinherz, you can’t do -it. Just at present you’re a queen, whatever that’s worth, and I’d -advise you stick to the position. Maybe you’ll choose to do all of the -nice things you’ve been hearing about, maybe not, but any way, you’re -much more likely to have a good time than if you take your -separation.” - -“Well,” said Félicia meditatively, “that is so. I’ll go back to -Bellaviste right away.” - -“Now? at once?” cried Queen Ernestine, bewildered by this sudden -success. “But not quite so suddenly,” she pleaded, after a moment’s -astonished pause. “It would excite remark, and deprive Michael of the -pleasure he would feel in coming to welcome you. Come back with us to -Drinitza, and let him meet you there.” - -“I guess I will. I’d like to meet that little Helene of yours, too, -and have her see what a happy couple Michael and I are.” - -“Félicia, you will not go back to him in this spirit? What possible -hope of future happiness can there be----?” - -“Why, just this. Your son has had his lesson, and unless he’s a fool -he won’t need any more. If he does, the Bluebird will be on hand yet.” - -“I hoped you might be going to yield to his wishes in the matter of -the yacht. It would be a very graceful concession, and he could not -help being touched by it. It would show your confidence in him----” - -“Confidence?” repeated Félicia. “I don’t confide in him worth a cent. -You say he can’t trust me because I tricked Usk? Well, he helped me do -it, so I can’t trust him. I shall continue to run the Bluebird myself, -and I’ll have Mr Hicks get a relief crew ready for me when this one -wants to go home. And after all, you can just take it from me that -this will be the best thing for Michael too. He would trample on a -woman that couldn’t defend herself, but one who’s as strong as he is -he will respect. And I guess I’ll have him know that he can’t trample -on me.” - - -A few weeks later, and the gathering at Drinitza had dispersed to the -four winds of heaven. The Grand-Duke and Duchess had returned to -Molzau, and Michael and Félicia to Bellaviste. Lord and Lady Caerleon -were on their way to Pavelsburg, where they were to meet Prince -Soudaroff (purely on a business footing) and arrange with him for the -fulfilment of his sister-in-law’s dying wishes; and Usk and Helene, -with their diminished retinue, were on board a leisurely, -old-fashioned steamer, which was supposed to be likely to reach -England before the end of the year. Cyril and his wife were at -Trieste, whence they intended to sail for Syria, but before leaving -they were to meet the Chevalier Goldberg, who had entreated them -mysteriously not to sail before seeing something that he had to show -them. They drove down to a wharf belonging to a private firm, at which -a large steamer was loading, and here the Chevalier met them, joyful, -alert, elated, almost inspired. - -“Well, Chevalier, and where is this wonderful sight?” asked Cyril, -looking round at the crates and boxes which were ready to be shipped. -At present, what looked like a number of huge blocks of stone were -being swung on board. - -“Dis iss it,” was the proud reply, as the Chevalier waved his hand to -include all the bustle around, “de crown off your worrk, Count--de -consummation off de freeink off Issrael.” - -“But what are all these things? and what are they for?” - -“Dey are de stones off de Temple which iss to be built in de Holy -City.” - -“You are actually going to rebuild the Temple! Why, you never told -me.” - -“It wass a secret hope, not to be told efen to de Chentile det hed -done so much for Zion. But de stones hef been preparink for a -cheneration, maybe lonker. See, here are de great blocks off marble -for buildink--all squared and dressed, so det dere may be no sound off -iron on de sacred site. Dere iss only one small part off dem on board -dis ship; oders will follow. In dese boxes and cases are many oder -thinks--rare marble off many colours for de linink off de walls, -carfed by de greatest artists, wonderful metal-work, mosaic off -precious stones, holy fessels off golt and silfer, embroideries such -ess queens and sultans might lonk for in fain. All dose det are -wise-hearted hef gifen, men and women alike--de poor woman her silfer -clasp, de rich woman her diamonts. De glory off dis letter House shell -be greater den any since de first.” - -“And you mean literally to revive the Temple ritual and everything -connected with it?” - -“Why not? We hef de priests, de sons off Aaron, we hef de secrifices -in abundance, we hef de silfer and de golt, we hef at last de right to -our own land. How could we dare delay, lest punishment come upon us -for our sleckness?” - -Cyril shook his head. “You are frightfully ill-advised,” he said. “A -temple, with sacrifices and all the other accompaniments of ancient -Jewish worship, in the very midst of the holy places of Christendom, -will revolt the world. It will unite all your enemies against you, and -give them a tremendous power for mischief.” - -“How long hef we been refolted by de idols set up in de midst off our -holy places? Let de Chentiles taste a little off de treatment dey hef -gifen us. We are not afraid off what dey can do. We hef our rights -guaranteed to us by de man raised up to help us. We are not dependent -on de goodwill off Christendom.” - -“You would find it safer to be dependent upon a number of powers than -on one despot. Their mutual jealousies might hinder their uniting -against you, but he has only himself to please.” - -“Gif us only our guaranteed sefen years, and we shell be too stronk -for any despot on earth to attack us.” - -“Only seven years? I didn’t know your guarantee was limited. Well, if -Malasorte leaves you undisturbed for the full seven years, he is not -the man I think him.” - -“Count! Count! after all your noble worrk for our great cause, are you -become a prophet off efil against us?” - -“_Buona sorte, mala fede_,” quoted Cyril. “Even supposing that -Timoleon V. has the best will in the world towards you, he has to -think of his other friends. The Vatican and the Jesuits have got -nothing yet for their support, and you think it a good opportunity to -outrage their tenderest susceptibilities and exhibit an alien -religion, possessing immense wealth, established at Jerusalem!” - -“But why should det signify to dem?” - -“Need you ask? Well, my wife and sister-in-law would probably be able -to tell you, from the study of prophecy, the exact year or day you may -expect the explosion, but I, as a practical man, will merely say that -I shall be very much surprised if you are still at Jerusalem when your -seven years are over. The Pope may be established there, and your -temple turned into a second St Peter’s, for all I can say.” - -“Ah, we shell worrk wid de Orthodox against dem.” - -“Don’t be too sure. Neustria and Scythia united against us three years -ago, you know. The two Emperors are very friendly, and there is time -for their respective Churches to become friendly too. Well, there will -always be a welcome for you at Sitt Zeynab, Chevalier, if you are -driven out.” - -“Nefer! nefer! Wid all Issrael, I will die fightink in de Temple -courts before Yerushalem shell fall again into de hends off de -Chentiles. No, Count, we hef receifed our punishment, efen double, for -all our sins. You hef lost your name. De Keptifity iss ofer for efer.” - -He bowed them off the wharf, and returned to his self-imposed task of -superintending the loading of the ship, as if opposition had made him -only the more determined to go on with it. Cyril and his wife walked -some way in silence, and when he spoke, it was not of the Chevalier or -his scheme. - -“When we left Sitt Zeynab, I little thought I should be glad to return -to it,” he said at last. - -“I know; you have always felt you were in exile there. But to me it is -a haven of peace. I can’t feel that you are safe anywhere else.” - -“Do you know, Ernestine, that when we left it last winter I was -brimming over with ambition, though I didn’t say so to you? I had an -idea that my old powers might return if I plunged suddenly into the -midst of the old life.” - -“Yes, I thought so when you were so determined to answer Michael’s -appeal for your help in person.” - -“And you never said so? Wise woman! Well, here I am returning meekly, -quite shorn of my aspirations. Michael is safely married, but to the -very last person we should have thought of for him then. Usk is -married too, not at all to the girl who seemed obviously suitable. The -Thracian finances are placed on a sound footing, but thanks far more -to Félicia’s money than to any skill of mine. Scythia is out of -Palestine, but Malasorte’s the friend, not Mortimer. And as for -myself, instead of juggling with crowns, I am thankful to be rescued -from a lunatic asylum. I not only did no good, but gave a great deal -of trouble to other people. In future we will take our politics -quietly, looking on at them from a distance.” - -“And living happily among our own people, doing what we can for them. -You think you can be happy, Cyril?” - -“Don’t ask me to make rash declarations. At least I can say that, in -view of ending my days at Sitt Zeynab, I am--content.” - - THE END. - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES. - -Sydney C. Grier was the pseudonym of Hilda Caroline Gregg. - -This book is part of the author’s “Balkan Series.” The full series, in -order, being: - - An Uncrowned King - A Crowned Queen - The Kings of the East - The Prince of the Captivity - -Alterations to the text: - -Punctuation corrections: quotation mark pairing. - -Note: minor spelling and hyphenization inconsistencies (_e.g._ -wofully/woefully, lifelong/life-long, newspaper-man/newspaper man, -etc.) have been preserved. - -[Chapter IV] - -Change “caught up a long knife ... off of the _payment_” to -_pavement_. - -[Chapter VI] - -[“This is terrible!” _murmered_ Lady Caerleon.] to _murmured_. - -[Chapter XII] - -“had met the Grand-_Duchesss_ of Schwarzwald-Molzau” to _Duchess_. - -[Chapter XVI] - -“Lord _Caerlon_ also produced a distinct impression” to _Caerleon_. - -[Chapter XXI] - -“Helene cried a _greal_ deal without feeling” to _great_. - -[End of Text] - - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRINCE OF THE CAPTIVITY *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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Grier - </title> - <style type="text/css"> - -/* Headers and Divisions */ - h1, h2, h3 {margin:2em 0em 1em 0em; page-break-before:always; text-align:center;} - - div.tp {text-align:center;} /* title page */ - - .nobreak {margin:0em 0em 1em 0em; page-break-before:avoid;} - - /* center a block of text */ - div.quote_o {font-size:95%; margin:0.5em 2em 0.5em 2em; text-align:center;} - div.quote_i {display:inline-block; text-align:left;} - -/* General */ - - body {margin:0% 5% 0% 5%;} - - p {margin:0em 0em 0em 0em; text-align:justify; text-indent:2em;} - p.center {margin:0em 0em 0em 0em; text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} - p.noindent {text-indent:0em;} - p.sign2 {margin:0em 2em 0em 0em; text-align:right; text-indent:0em;} - p.spacer {margin:0.5em 0em 0.5em 0em; text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} - p.end {margin:1em 0em 0em 0em; text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} - - p.toc_1 {font-variant:small-caps; text-align:left; text-indent:0em;} - - div.letter {padding:1em 0em 1em 3em;} - - span.font80 {font-size:80%;} - - span.sc {font-variant:small-caps;} - - span.chap_sub {font-size:80%;} - - </style> -</head> - -<body> - -<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Prince of the Captivity, by Sydney C. Grier</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Prince of the Captivity</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0;'>The Epilogue to a Romance</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Sydney C. Grier</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: October 18, 2021 [eBook #66558]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRINCE OF THE CAPTIVITY ***</div> - -<div class="tp"> -<h1> -THE PRINCE OF<br/> -THE CAPTIVITY -</h1> - -The Epilogue to a Romance -<br/><br/> -<span class="font80">BY</span><br/> -SYDNEY C. GRIER<br/> -<span class="font80">AUTHOR OF<br/> -‘AN UNCROWNED KING,’ ‘ THE WARDEN OF THE MARCHES,’<br/> -ETC., ETC.</span> - -<br/><br/> -(<i>Fourth in the Balkan Series</i>) - -<br/><br/><br/><br/> -WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS<br/> -EDINBURGH AND LONDON<br/> -MCMII -</div> - - -<h2> -CONTENTS. -</h2> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch01">I. BOTH SIDES OF THE QUESTION</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch02">II. BORN IN THE PURPLE</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch03">III. THE BURDEN OF A SECRET</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch04">IV. HIT AND MISS</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch05">V. MANŒUVRES</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch06">VI. <i>TOTÂ QUOD MENTE PETISTI</i></a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch07">VII. A FAMILY LIKENESS</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch08">VIII. LOVE IN IDLENESS</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch09">IX. A CHANGE OF VENUE</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch10">X. A DAMSEL IN DISTRESS</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch11">XI. KNOWN TOO LATE</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch12">XII. MURDERED FAITH</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch13">XIII. <i>MALA SORTE</i></a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch14">XIV. FOR PITY’S SAKE</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch15">XV. NOT LONG A-DOING</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch16">XVI. BEYOND RECALL</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch17">XVII. MISSING</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch18">XVIII. WANDERING FIRES</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch19">XIX. A CHANCE WORD</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch20">XX. FOILED</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch21">XXI. QUEEN AND KING</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch22">XXII. OPENING THE PRISON DOORS</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch23">XXIII. THE PRICE TO BE PAID</a> -</p> - -<p class="toc_1"> -<a href="#ch24">XXIV. <i>RISORGIMENTO</i></a> -</p> - - -<h2> -THE PRINCE OF THE CAPTIVITY. -</h2> - -<h3 class="nobreak" id="ch01"> -CHAPTER I.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">BOTH SIDES OF THE QUESTION.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">There</span> were only a few passengers by the South Wales Express, and to -one young man in a first-class carriage the fact was very welcome. He -had bought a paper almost unconsciously from the boy who came to the -window, but it did him good service as a shield, from behind which he -could cast suspicious and hostile glances, after the manner of the -travelling Briton, at any one who seemed inclined to disturb his -solitude, as long as the train was in the station. But when once the -dreary and dirty buff brick surroundings of the terminus had been left -behind, the paper fell to the floor, and Lord Usk gazed out of the -window with an expression which seemed too ecstatic to be evoked even -by the busy harvest-fields and the nursery-gardens full of asters and -late roses on which his bodily eyes were resting. And indeed the scene -before him might still have been a brick-and-mortar desert for all -that he saw of it. His mental gaze was fixed upon the face of Miss -Félicia J. Steinherz, the sight of which had changed the whole course -of his life. -</p> - -<p> -Could it really be the case, he was wondering, that a month ago he had -never seen Félicia Steinherz? Yes, it was perfectly true, and the -curious thing was that though he now saw clearly that life must have -been a howling wilderness in those days, it had not seemed so at the -time. He had been fairly satisfied with himself and his prospects, and -quite unconscious that the world was in reality empty and out of -joint. It was with a scornful pity that he looked back from his -vantage-point of to-day upon the Usk of a month ago. She was breathing -the same air with him then, and yet he had not so much as guessed at -her existence, nor even been conscious of a blank without her! Ah, but -he had; for was she not the fulfilment of all his dreams, the -realisation of the ideal of womanhood which had haunted him from his -boyish days? Here and there, in one woman or another, he had caught, -as it seemed, glimpses of this ideal, but closer acquaintance -dispelled the illusion. The woman of his dreams still eluded him -tantalisingly—until he met Félicia. He did not ask himself whether -she corresponded in all respects with his mental picture; it was -enough that she was herself. -</p> - -<p> -He could recall at this moment the rapture which had thrilled him when -she first flashed upon his sight. It was the most ordinary and prosaic -of introductions. He had met Hicks, the American newspaper-man, -unexpectedly in Fleet Street, and had accepted without much enthusiasm -his invitation to come and call with him upon J. Bertram Steinherz, -the great Rhode Island shipbuilder, and his daughter, familiarly known -in the States as the Plate Princess. Usk was not keen on meeting -Americans, especially American heiresses who were presumably visiting -England in search of titled bridegrooms, but Hicks was a family -friend, and he accompanied him meekly to the Hotel Bloomsbury, with a -passing wonder at the millionaire’s choosing such a locality. There -was some excuse for the introduction, naturally; what was it? Oh, of -course; Mr Steinherz was interested in a contract for the navigation -of the Euphrates, and Usk had lately voyaged down that river, and -could give him some tips. Blessed Euphrates! had it not floated him -into paradise? He remembered Mr Hicks’s caustic strictures on the -decoration of the hotel as compared with that of similar buildings in -America, and his own shrug of amusement as he wondered what degree of -obtrusive magnificence would be required to satisfy the æsthetic -sense of the representative of the ‘Empire City Crier.’ He had entered -the over-decorated room without receiving the slightest warning that -it contained the one woman in the world, and his recollections came to -a sudden stop at the point when the great discovery burst upon him. Mr -Steinherz was there, of course, gentlemanly and well set-up, with a -pointed grey beard and drooping moustache, which gave him the look of -a retired naval officer; and there was a Miss Logan, who was -introduced by Mr Steinherz as “my adopted daughter,” a thin, -eager-looking girl, smartly dressed, and noticeable for a high, -penetrating voice. Lastly, there was Miss Steinherz. She sat in her -great carved oak chair like a princess receiving her court,—if ever a -princess had such tiny hands and feet and such wonderful eyes,—and -the draperies which floated round her were like nothing in heaven or -earth but clouds. In cold blood Usk would probably have surmised that -Miss Steinherz was wearing a tea-gown, although her dress had little -in common with the loose and comfortable garment which his sister -Philippa had been wont to don after a hard day’s hunting. There was -lace about it that a queen might have worn—indeed Usk gathered later -that the precious fabric, only half revealed, had been forced by the -pinch of poverty from the hoarded stores of a queen in exile—there -was the gleam of tiny diamond buckles, but the effect of the whole was -that of clouds, clouds which were neither pink nor lavender nor grey -nor blue, but which in some mysterious manner were all these at once. -A woman would have hinted at the dexterous mingling and -superimposition of chiffon of various tints, but to Usk all was -mystic, wonderful. He was not even aware that his eyes and thoughts -were alike fixed upon Miss Steinherz until he found himself assuring -her father that at certain points in the voyage down the Euphrates it -was usual to drag the steamer a mile or two overland. -</p> - -<p> -After all, no harm was done—or at least Mr Steinherz did not appear -to be astonished by this remarkable piece of information. Miss -Steinherz it was who pounced upon the slip like a cat upon a mouse, -and made merry at Usk’s expense for the rest of the visit. He could -not have imagined an English girl’s engrossing the conversation as she -did, and few Englishmen would have followed her lead as meekly as did -her father and Mr Hicks; but how delightful it was to hear her talk, -even when he himself was her butt! Now she was leaning back languidly -in her chair, playing with a peacock-feather fan, while the words -flowed forth slowly in a delicious lingering drawl; anon she was -sitting erect, with every faculty on the alert, and rattling forth in -quick succession the raciest, the most daring remarks. Not for one -moment was Usk allowed to forget the foolish thing he had said, and -yet while he was half-wounded, he was also half-pleased, and wholly -fascinated. Miss Steinherz might say what she liked, if only she would -say it in such an original and delightful way, and exhibit a new and -more exquisite expression of face or pose of head with each sentence. -</p> - -<p> -That night Usk paced his rooms until dawn. New impressions and -sensations had so thronged upon him in the hour spent at the Hotel -Bloomsbury that to be still was impossible, far more so to sleep. Now -that he was removed from the witchery of her presence, it was borne in -upon him what a pitiful figure he must have cut in her eyes. What -could he do to convince her that he was not such a fool as he had -appeared? To remain under such a stigma, to feel that he had deserved, -not merely incurred, her contempt, was unbearable. An inspiration came -to him, and day found him rummaging among the relics of his Eastern -journey. Maps, photographs, scraps of his journals, geological -specimens—everything that bore even remotely on the subject in which -Mr Steinherz was interested—all these were looked out with the object -of turning them to account. Usk was gazing at a most promising heap, -when another inspiration came to him. He had made himself look a fool, -there was no getting over the fact, and had deserved the raillery Miss -Steinherz had poured upon him, but he would turn this defeat into a -victory. These relics of travel, judiciously produced one by one, -should procure him admission to the Hotel Bloomsbury not for one brief -visit, but on many successive days. Perhaps he might succeed in -rehabilitating himself in Miss Steinherz’s eyes by his eagerness to -help her father, perhaps not; at any rate he would see her. -</p> - -<p> -There was no shooting for Usk that August, and the man whose party he -was to have joined on the moors found himself thrown over. September -came, but the Marquis of Caerleon tramped the Llandiarmid -stubble-fields alone, for Usk was still, as his father remarked -ruefully, glued to London. Miss Steinherz was more beautiful and -adorable and generally goddess-like than ever. Her turns of speech -were nothing less than exquisite; even the way that she said “Pap-pa” -and “Eu-rope” had a subtle charm of its own, and the little -affectation of the accent on the first syllable raised her somewhat -colourless Christian name into something unutterably sweet and -strange. Her tongue was as ready as ever, but Usk had begun to fancy -that she was not quite so inexorable in making fun of him as she had -been. She had actually allowed him once or twice to finish a sentence -without instantly turning it into ridicule, and on this slight -foundation Usk was joyfully ready to erect a hopeful superstructure. -He knew her outward appearance so well—the perfect figure, the small -head poised on the slender neck, the delicate nose, the little mouth, -the masses of dark hair which curled in rings on the white forehead -and were piled above it in the most marvellous waves and twists; could -it be possible that he was beginning to know Félicia herself—the -mind, heart, soul, which must naturally be equally faultless? Those -wonderful eyes, so large and dark and clear,—not the eyes of a girl, -looking out wistfully on life half in hope and half in fear, but of a -woman who feels that happiness is her right and intends to have -it,—were they beginning to soften for him—for him? Oh, the bliss of -the thought, that those frank eyes might one day fall before his, that -Félicia might own that she loved him! -</p> - -<p> -There was the sound of a footstep in the corridor of the railway -carriage, and Usk snatched at his paper hurriedly, and began to study -it with all his might, holding it up so as to hide his face. When he -thought the intruder had passed on, he ventured to lower his screen, -only to meet the mocking, not unkindly gaze of a tall lank man who was -leaning against the inner doorway, evidently waiting for him to look -up. -</p> - -<p> -“I would bet my bottom dollar that I could state right now what you -are thinking of,” said the newcomer slowly. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, it’s you, Hicks! Didn’t know you were a thought-reader.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t begin to be one, sir. You gave yourself away, you see.” Mr -Hicks’s gaze rested on the paper, and Usk flushed quickly as he -perceived that it was upside-down. But there was no use in being -dignified with Hicks, and he yielded the position with a laugh. -</p> - -<p> -“I suppose you’re on your way home by the new route?” he said lightly, -seeking safety in flight from the original subject. “I’m just running -down to Llandiarmid for a day or two to see my people.” -</p> - -<p> -“Is that so?” drawled Mr Hicks. “A rare and beautiful thing is family -affection, any way! But I guess London licks the country this fall, -doesn’t it?” -</p> - -<p> -“It has been a good deal pleasanter this year than usual,” agreed Usk. -</p> - -<p> -“I admire to see a young man open and candid, sir. Have you got any -more acquainted with the Steinherzes yet?” -</p> - -<p> -“You are nothing whatever but a good Inquisitor spoilt! I have seen a -certain amount of them.” -</p> - -<p> -“And so far as one of the party is concerned, it’s pretty generally -concluded that to see her is to—you know how it goes along? But maybe -you are an exception?” -</p> - -<p> -“Really, a man can’t call his innermost feelings his own when you’re -anywhere about, Hicks.” Mr Hicks nodded approvingly. “But after all, -it was you that introduced me to her, and I’ll make you a present of -the information, which you have probably guessed already, that I am -going home to have a business talk with my father.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Hicks nodded again, and Usk, whose tongue seemed to have been -loosed by his first admission, went on— -</p> - -<p> -“There are times, you know, when a man feels he has to pay rather dear -for the virtues of his family. It’s quite delightful, of course, to -know that no landowner in South Wales does more for his tenants than -my father, but the worst part of it is that it leaves so awfully -little for us to live upon.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t go around worrying over that,” said Mr Hicks soothingly. “The -good American girl regards it as her mission these days to shore up -the tottering British coronet with her dollars.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s her father I’m thinking of,” lamented Usk. “How can one go to a -man and say, ‘Mr Steinherz, I love your daughter, and if you are -prepared to hand her over rather more millions than I have hundreds a -year, I daresay we shall get on very comfortably’?” Miss Steinherz’s -prospective fortune was understood, be it remarked, to be of such -satisfactory dimensions as to suffer no appreciable diminution even by -reduction to English figures. -</p> - -<p> -“If that’s all,” was the dry reply, “you can just go right away to J. -Bertram Steinherz, and say those identical words. Why, sir, your -request is real moderate. I guess an ordinary French or German count -would have his father-in-law hand over that same pile of dollars, and -rebuild his family castle, and take his crown out of pawn as well, -before he would conclude to make a trade. Then he would invite the -bride to embrace his religion, and when everything was fixed up -according to his notions, he would intimate to the father-in-law that, -much as he respected him as a dollar-grinding machine, he guessed he -would be conscious of more real, whole-souled pleasure in the -partnership if he could regard him as a fixture in the States for the -future.” -</p> - -<p> -“I can’t fancy Mr Steinherz standing that sort of thing. He’s -not—not——” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t quite look the part of the ordinary heavy father from the -States?” said Mr Hicks quickly, as Usk hesitated. “That is so, sir. He -doesn’t incline to play it, either.” He stopped abruptly. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s it. He is so awfully dignified and polite that I feel as if I -should sink into the ground when I think of going to him with an offer -that must strike him as such arrant cheek. Do you know, Hicks, that he -and Miss Steinherz came to the Duchess of Old Sarum’s reception after -all? I got them a card, but Mr Steinherz was so high and mighty about -accepting that I felt horribly small.” -</p> - -<p> -“J. B. Steinherz was always real high-toned in his notions. At home he -lays himself out to snub his fellow-citizens, and the smart set are -ready to kiss his boots because he is ‘so charmingly exclusive.’ Here -in England he doesn’t hold with thrusting himself into intimacy with -the British nobility, so he puts in his time at a down-town hotel, and -scorns ducal invitations.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I got him to Sarum House, at any rate, and every one was asking -who he was. There was one very old lady there, Mrs Sadleir, a great -friend of my people’s—knew my grandfather—who was quite smitten with -him, and wanted me to tell her who was the elderly man with the <i>grand -air</i>. When I said he was an American, she was really snappish, and -said he reminded her of some one she had known long ago. I brought him -up and introduced him, and they flirted solemnly for nearly an hour. -Afterwards Mrs Sadleir said she couldn’t place him exactly, but she -was pretty sure he must be a Southerner, for he had just the fine -manners of the men who used to come over here before the war.” -</p> - -<p> -“J. B. S. is a real white man,” said Mr Hicks emphatically. “And you -don’t need to be afraid of sailing right in, sir, so far as he is -concerned. You’ll scarcely tell me he hasn’t known why you were -loafing around all the time at his hotel. No, you may bet your boots -that it’s Miss Maimie that’s your rock ahead—honest Injun.” -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Logan? But why in the world should she have anything to do with -it?” -</p> - -<p> -“Women with a real consuming ambition on behalf of another woman are -not plenty anywhere,” said Mr Hicks slowly, “and maybe least of all in -America, but that’s how it is with Miss Maimie. She would sell her -very soul to see Félicia Steinherz make a great marriage. Why, a year -or so back she all but engineered her into marrying Prince Timoleon -Malasorte.” -</p> - -<p> -“The Neustrian Pretender?” -</p> - -<p> -“The same, sir. He was an attaché in the Scythian Embassy at -Washington those days, but you bet he meant to be emperor, same’s he -does now, and with Félicia’s dollars and her smartness back of him I -calculate he’d have got there. But J. B. S. put his foot down, and the -Embassy found itself bereaved of its brightest ornament. That’s why I -say, Watch out for Miss Maimie. Félicia won’t marry any one below a -duke if she can help it.” -</p> - -<p> -“You mean that the son of a very poor marquis hasn’t much chance, -then? But Mr Steinherz will feel that even more strongly than you do, -don’t you see?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, sir, he will not. Mushroom coronets he has no use for, but he -knows there’s nothing shoddy about you. And don’t have your natural -modesty blind you to the show side of your family record. It’s not -every poor marquis that has taken his seat on a European throne, even -for three months, or has seen his brother the wonder of four -continents and the husband of a queen.” -</p> - -<p> -“You are getting positively epic,” said Usk, his tone becoming -unconsciously more cheerful. -</p> - -<p> -“I guess my subject inspires me, sir. Any news of your uncle these -days, by the way? Not worrying himself sick, I hope?” -</p> - -<p> -“He seems well enough, but his brain-power doesn’t return.” -</p> - -<p> -“Does he incline to plunge into politics again, or has he concluded to -stick to his snug estate way back there?” -</p> - -<p> -“He is as happy there as he would be anywhere, I think. Nothing has -been said about his coming to Europe.” -</p> - -<p> -“Now it’s a curious thing,” remarked Mr Hicks meditatively, “but a -whole crowd of the Jews have their eyes fixed upon him yet. They see -that while he was boss, things went ahead, but when he dropped out, -the outfit went to smash right away. Well, they suspicion that he was -intrigued off the stage by the millionaires, so they just incline to -intrigue him back there. They are plotting to fix things so’s they can -invite him along again. The Prince of the Captivity, they call him, -after some old cuss that hung out his sign in those parts sometime, -and they have passwords and ciphers, and every requisite of a properly -equipped plot on the largest scale.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m afraid they’ll be disappointed. He won’t let them thrust him into -a position that he could not fill with satisfaction to himself.” -</p> - -<p> -“They’ll just have to invite you to operate the scheme instead of -him.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, I might have thought of it once,” said Usk, with a seriousness -which tickled Mr Hicks extremely, “but of course things will be -different now, if——” he laughed, not unhappily. “A year or two ago I -was mad to get out into the world and do something big. I often wish I -had gone into the army, even now.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, now, I thought you gave that up nobly because your mother was -breaking her heart over it? But maybe you’ve been busy taking the -shine off the sacrifice ever since—sort of ‘If I mayn’t do what I -like, I won’t do anything’?” -</p> - -<p> -“Every one isn’t a born social reformer, like my mother,” said Usk, -somewhat coldly. Then his face cleared. “But very likely I shall go -into Parliament now, and that will please her tremendously.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you think it will please another person as well, maybe?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, I’m sure it will. She made me feel awfully ashamed one day when -she said how she envied people of our class in England, who could find -any number of followers any day if only they cared to lead. She -couldn’t make out how we could throw away our opportunities and not -lead, she said.” -</p> - -<p> -“Félicia Steinherz among the prophets!” said Mr Hicks drily. “And you -have hoarded the remark to repeat it to Lady Caerleon, because you -calculate that will please her tremendously too? Well, go ahead and -get there! Ask me to the wedding. If you cable right away when you get -things fixed, I’ll find it waiting for me when I arrive home.” -</p> - -<p> -He rose to continue his exploration of the train, and Usk fished a -scrap of paper out of his pocket, and devoted himself once more to the -abstruse calculations with which it was covered. It was his earnest -desire to be able to prove to Mr Steinherz that if he married -Félicia, her fortune might be entirely reserved for her own use, but -the facts were against him. Even if the family house in town, which -had until lately been let on a long lease, were made over to him, it -would be utterly beyond his father’s power to give him enough to keep -it up, even with the most rigorous carefulness. The family at -Llandiarmid were accustomed to save—to pinch, Usk called it—but he -was conscious of sudden disgust for his own selfishness when he -pictured the further economies that would be necessary if his -allowance was to be increased. And for what? To allow him to live in -luxury without wounding his pride by touching Félicia’s money! There -would be no rigid economy in Félicia’s household, he knew that well -enough. If she wished for a thing, she ordered it, regardless of the -cost, although a curious strain of shrewdness sometimes showed itself -in the ardour with which she would pursue a discount of a few pence on -a bill of many pounds. He had vivid recollections of the boxes which -had accompanied her and Miss Logan on their return from a flying visit -to Paris about a fortnight ago, and the calm way in which they had -mentioned what seemed to him the fabulous sums paid for a single gown -or toque. Decidedly, a household which included Félicia would be an -expensive outfit to run, as Mr Hicks had once put it. -</p> - -<p> -Usk had learnt something of this by personal experience. From the day -when he first made the delightful discovery that Transatlantic -etiquette permitted him to give expression to his feelings by -presenting offerings at the shrine of his goddess, he had taken full -advantage of his privileges. Félicia accepted the offerings with -perfect calmness, but Usk felt a thrill of pride, which to an outside -observer might have had something pathetic in it, in the fact that he -was obliged to cut down his personal expenses in order to provide -them. It was very foolish, no doubt; the sensible course would have -been to obtain his gifts on credit, but with a touch of quixotry he -chose rather to deny himself that he might keep his love supplied with -the marvellous candies and rare flowers which she regarded as -necessaries of life. She possessed a cultured palate and the eye of a -wealthy connoisseur, and Usk went so far as to give up smoking when he -was alone, and had even cherished thoughts of travelling third class. -But in that case he could not have enjoyed in peace the delight of -thinking about Félicia, and his heroism failed him when it came to -the point. -</p> - -<p> -It was not unnatural that Miss Steinherz should also be thinking of -him this evening, for the floor of her bedroom was strewn with the -leaves and stalks and petals of the last roses he had sent her. They -were the very newest roses, the blossoms of a curious coppery-pink -tinge, and Usk had paid a fabulous price for them on his way to the -station. Miss Logan remarked slightingly on them when the maid had put -them in water, and Félicia threw one at her. She returned it, and the -mimic battle was continued until not a single rose remained on its -stalk. Flushed and laughing, the girls desisted, and presently -Félicia sent away the maid and allowed her friend to brush her hair, -while she herself performed certain mysterious operations on her -finger-nails, with the aid of the contents of a dainty gold-mounted -morocco case. -</p> - -<p> -“Is it Monday or Tuesday that we dine Lord Usk?” she asked lightly, -with a sudden upward glance. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s Usk—Usk—all the time!” was the impatient answer. -</p> - -<p> -“Not just all the time,” said Félicia sweetly, “but I guess it soon -will be.” -</p> - -<p> -“Félicia Steinherz, you make me tired!” -</p> - -<p> -“Now don’t get mad, Maimie. If a duke had come along, I’d have married -him, as I’ve stated times and times, but, you see, that duke hasn’t -materialised, and Lord Usk is right here.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’d have had you marry an emperor,” said Maimie Logan, through her -teeth. -</p> - -<p> -“And I’m real grateful to you, but the emperor didn’t rise to the -occasion either, did he? I admired to see his affections just wilt -when pappa said he wouldn’t give me a red cent if I married him. I was -done with him then, but if he’d had the grace to stick to me, you bet -pappa would have weakened at last. It was a pity, for I feel I have it -in me to care more for an emperor than any other man, because he’d -really have given me something to be grateful for.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, don’t accept Lord Usk in such a tearing hurry. There are dukes -left yet, and princes too.” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, certainly, but you haven’t looked all around this thing, Maimie. -You had better make up your mind that pappa isn’t going to give me any -more chances of meeting those dukes and princes than he can help.” -</p> - -<p> -“I want to know! Why not?” -</p> - -<p> -“Just listen to me, and ask yourself. Since I was ’most a baby, I’ve -known that some way my folks were different from other girls’ fathers -and mothers. I guess it was pappa’s high-toned manners, and mamma’s -never having more than half a voice in her own house; and you know as -well as I do, though we don’t have other people see it, what an icy -terror pappa can be yet when he likes. Why, we wouldn’t be here if he -could have helped it.” Maimie smiled grimly at this allusion to the -circumstances attending their departure for England. Mr Steinherz, -summoned suddenly to London on the business of his Euphrates -Syndicate, had telegraphed to his daughter that he was leaving New -York by the next day’s boat. Félicia, who had for years demanded a -visit to Europe in vain, was touched in her tenderest point. Telegrams -flashed backwards and forwards, and when Mr Steinherz went on board, -the first person he saw was his daughter, holding a farewell reception -of her fashionable friends, with Maimie and a maid and a marvellous -pile of luggage in the background. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, we fixed things pretty smartly that time,” pursued Félicia; -“but he has played it awfully low down on us since, Maimie. I think -it’s real mean of him to bring us along to this hotel, where there are -only dowdy English people, and not let us go to the Continent at all, -except that two days in Paris. And to have us decline all of those -invitations that Lord Usk would have got us!” -</p> - -<p> -“But he hasn’t been ugly, Fay, as he might have been. And when you -think of some girls’ folks——” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I know. Why, there’s Sadie van Zyl, in the smartest set here and -the very toniest society everywhere—what she must suffer when she has -to produce either her husband or her father! I don’t wonder she has a -nerve-attack most times, and goes off to some cure or other.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, now, you need never feel badly like that, you know.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s so, but then I never have the chance of exhibiting pappa. I -should admire to have him go with us to all sorts of places, but he -won’t. Now, Maimie, if those Van Rensselaer girls knew just this, what -would they say? Why, that there was some reason why he didn’t care to -show himself in Europe. That may be so, or it may not; I don’t choose -to inquire, but I incline to think that he settled in the States -because he had taken a hand in some political game, and it didn’t -eventuate just the way he hoped it would. Whatever the mystery was, -your mother was in it, but not your father.” Maimie nodded. “Then -we’ll take that as understood, and you’ll see I have to hoe my own -row. Now Lord Usk is real nice to pappa, and from all we hear I don’t -see but pappa will think his folks just lovely. So I’m on.” -</p> - -<p> -“Wait, just wait!” entreated Maimie. “Don’t go ahead so fast.” -</p> - -<p> -“Now, Maimie, you’re going to give up all of this foolishness—see? -I’m watching out for an investment in real estate, and here’s Lord Usk -just hungering to be developed. I shall have him run for -Parliament—it’s quite a toney thing to do here—and then I’ll push -him up step by step.” -</p> - -<p> -“He’ll turn ugly,” prophesied Maimie. “He just loves the country——” -</p> - -<p> -“Maimie Logan, are you going to tell me I don’t know how to fix things -any way I want them? He will stay in town when I choose, and take me -abroad when I choose, and go way down into the country when I let him. -Say, Maimie, don’t yank all of my hair right out!” -</p> - -<p> -“You are forgetting his folks. I don’t see but you’ll have trouble -with them.” -</p> - -<p> -“They won’t trouble me any. The old lord and lady won’t be encouraged -to come around much in town. I guess their influence wouldn’t be -helpful.” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, Fay Steinherz, I’m sure they’re real good, from what he -says—church members and all that.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m not running him for church elder, Maimie. Lord Caerleon is just a -Temperance crank, and the old lady never put on a Paris gown nor -attended a smart function in her life. And they’re not smiled upon in -the really good set because of those Eastern adventures they have on -hand all the time. I have some use for the uncle Mr Hicks talks about, -that married some queen or other, but that’s different. Of course I’ll -visit at the Castle, and ask people there for shooting-parties and -that. One must be in the country some time, I suppose. I wonder if -there’s a dower-house, or whatever they call it in books? If there is, -I guess the old folks might be brought to see the propriety of -retiring to it, and leaving the Castle to us.” -</p> - -<p> -“You seem to have got everything fixed up pretty nicely.” -</p> - -<p> -“That is so. This outfit will be run on strict business lines, you’ll -see. Pappa has me start under a disadvantage by his unfatherly -conduct, but I wipe that out by marrying Usk. Then all depends on -myself, and I can’t afford to have sentiment spoil my plans. I’ll see -myself a duchess or <i>vicereine</i> of India yet.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch02"> -CHAPTER II.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">BORN IN THE PURPLE.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Usk</span> was late in keeping his dinner engagement with the Steinherzes. -It was not his fault, as he explained eagerly when he arrived; he had -left Llandiarmid at an unearthly hour in the morning, to make sure of -catching the early train from Aberkerran, and had got up to town in -excellent time. It was when he was driving from his rooms to the hotel -that the delay occurred. The Archduke Ferdinand Joachim, cousin to the -Emperor of Pannonia, who had just arrived on a visit to England, was -being conducted in state to Buckingham Palace, and the British public -had turned out in full force to welcome him. The royal carriages and -liveries, and the fact that a popular Prince had gone to meet the -traveller, made it evident that this was an occasion for cheering, and -accordingly dense crowds lined the route, to the dire interruption of -the traffic at all the cross-roads, in one of which Usk sat fuming in -his hansom. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, you must have had a pretty good view of the royalties, any -way,” said Maimie Logan. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh yes, but I had no particular yearning for that. I have seen the -Prince so often, you know, and I didn’t care about the other chap. But -I wished you and Miss Steinherz had been there. It’s a chance you -don’t often get at this time of year.” -</p> - -<p> -“What is the Archduke like, now?” asked Mr Steinherz suddenly. “You -would be able to see him distinctly?” -</p> - -<p> -“Quite.” Usk turned to his host with ready deference. “A fair-sized -man, I should say—looks as though he had been born in uniform, as all -those Germans do. Hair brushed straight back, rather <i>à la</i> -scrubbing-brush, as far as I could see, big pince-nez, a sort of -nondescript brown moustache, with the points turned up fiercely. I -think that must have been dyed, though, for his hair was grey behind.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes,” said Mr Steinherz meditatively, “he is pretty well along—older -than I am. He was in Venetia in the ’Sixties—made his name there. And -it wasn’t a particularly sweet name, either. I guess a good few -Italians have unfulfilled vows of vengeance out against him yet.” -</p> - -<p> -“Say, pappa!” broke in Félicia; “how did you get to know that much -about a no-account German prince?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, daughter, I don’t see but I must have heard it from the Italian -clerk I had once,” was the leisurely reply, which silenced Félicia -for the time, since she knew well enough that the clerk in question -had been dismissed for falling in love with his employer’s daughter. -Maimie, always watchful on her friend’s behalf, changed the subject, -and it was not until the meal was over that her efforts to keep the -peace failed. Usk had been anxious to escort the ladies this evening -to a concert at which some bright particular star was announced to -appear, but Mr Steinherz vetoed the proposal rather summarily, -regardless of his daughter’s rebellious looks. Most unjustly Félicia -made Usk suffer for her disappointment, sitting bored and silent all -evening, and sweeping Maimie off to bed at a ridiculously early hour, -on the plea of a headache. Maimie offered no objection to the -imperious summons, but took occasion to drop her handkerchief just -outside the sitting-room door. Returning to fetch it as soon as -Félicia was safe in her own room, she heard Usk taking his leave. -</p> - -<p> -“May I call upon you in the morning?” he asked of Mr Steinherz. “I -should like—— There is—— I want to ask you something.” -</p> - -<p> -“State it right now,” was the unexpected answer. “I am having a -vacation this evening, thanks to Félicia’s nervous attack.” -</p> - -<p> -Maimie shook with silent laughter, for she guessed that Usk found some -difficulty in unfolding his request now that the opportunity was thus -suddenly thrust upon him. He muttered something about “Very -important,” to which Mr Steinherz responded by a cordial invitation to -discuss the matter in his office, where they would be safe from -interruption. The room was a small one, with one door from the -corridor into which all the apartments of the Steinherzes’ suite -opened, and another from the sitting-room, and in it Mr Steinherz -spent most of his time, and received all his business visitors, in an -atmosphere of smoke. Maimie reviewed the position swiftly, as she -heard the door between the study and the sitting-room close with a -decisive slam. Félicia was fortunately in the hands of her maid by -this time, and the brushing of her hair alone might be relied upon to -keep her occupied for an hour at least, but it was out of the question -to listen at the door in the corridor, for the hotel servants were -constantly passing. Moreover, if the discussion were to be conducted -in lower tones, it would be very difficult to hear it through the -door. The only hope was the balcony, upon which the windows of both -rooms looked, and Maimie opened the sitting-room door very softly, -leaving it slightly ajar so as to afford a way of escape, and crossing -the room on tiptoe, put her head out cautiously. As she had expected, -the warmth and beauty of the night had tempted the two men to sit at -the open window of the office, and she could see the tip of one of Mr -Steinherz’s shoes. The odour of his cigar reached her as she sat -crouched inside her own window, leaning forward as far as she dared, -and she heard him chaffing Usk upon the length of time it took an -Englishman to strike a match. Apparently the match refused to strike -at all, and Usk laid down his cigar in despair, for presently Mr -Steinherz said “Well?” in a half-authoritative, half-humorous tone -which rejoiced the listener exceedingly. -</p> - -<p> -“Mr Steinherz,” returned Usk with a sudden burst of frankness, “I love -your daughter. May I ask her to marry me?” -</p> - -<p> -Maimie thought she could imagine the quizzical glance under which the -unhappy suitor would be writhing, but she was electrified by the words -which answered him. -</p> - -<p> -“Stop right there!” said Mr Steinherz decisively. “We will take those -words as unsaid, if you please. I was not expecting them until a later -stage of the proceedings, and there are some circumstances with which -I guess you ought to get acquainted before you utter them.” -</p> - -<p> -Maimie held her breath. Her only idea had been to observe Mr -Steinherz’s treatment of this new suitor, and especially to see -whether he really favoured him, as it had struck her he did. But was -she unintentionally, and all in a moment, on the point of dispelling -the mystery upon which she and Félicia had touched in their -confidential talk? She heard Mr Steinherz rise and unlock a -table-drawer, then return, apparently with something in his hand. -</p> - -<p> -“Do you seem to know any of those faces?” she heard him ask. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t think so,” said Usk. “Wait a minute, though. It’s an old -photograph of the Emperor of Pannonia, isn’t it?—and his brothers, I -suppose?” -</p> - -<p> -“No; his cousins, the Archduke Ferdinand Joachim and—myself.” -</p> - -<p> -From her own sensations, Maimie could imagine the bewilderment on -Usk’s face as he gazed blankly at the speaker. -</p> - -<p> -“You don’t see the likeness?” Mr Steinherz went on; “but the folks -used often mistake us three for one another. Look right in my face; I -just brush my hair back some; I turn up my moustache and hide my -beard, showing the Hohenstaufen mouth. Now do you perceive no likeness -to the Archduke as you saw him three hours back?” -</p> - -<p> -“I see! I see!” cried Usk. “But,” he added, rising and walking round -his host, “from behind you need no alteration at all. If you were in -uniform I should take you for him.” -</p> - -<p> -“Is that so?” said Mr Steinherz. “Well, you will excuse me if I resume -my usual appearance? I apprehend that if it got around there was a -double of the Archduke staying at the Hotel Bloomsbury, it might cause -some inconvenience. And now, do you incline to hear the circumstances, -or not?” -</p> - -<p> -“There’s nothing I should like better. I don’t know whether I’m -standing on my head or my heels.” -</p> - -<p> -Maimie could picture Mr Steinherz’s grim smile. “Did you ever hear of -Prince Joseph of Arragon?” he asked. -</p> - -<p> -“I seem to know the name,” said Usk meditatively. “Yes, wasn’t it the -man who ran off with an—a lady and was lost at sea, twenty or thirty -years ago?” -</p> - -<p> -“Who was supposed to have been lost at sea,” corrected Mr Steinherz -impressively. “As a matter of fact, he is sitting opposite you now.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh—er—I beg your pardon,” stammered Usk. -</p> - -<p> -“Your remark was natural. There is now only one other person besides -yourself who knows the truth. In the Schlosskirche at Vindobona I -understand there is a cenotaph to the memory of José Maria Beltran, -Prince of Arragon, drowned off the Australian coast in the wreck of -his yacht, the Claudine, but Joseph Bertram Steinherz could give the -lie to that statement if he chose.” -</p> - -<p> -“You escaped from the wreck, I suppose, and took advantage of the -general belief to disappear—sir?” hazarded Usk. -</p> - -<p> -“Not just exactly; but I will tell you all of the story. But, first, -remember that you are on your honour not to breathe a word of what I -tell you to any living creature, especially to my daughter; and again, -don’t make a prince of me. I have turned my back on all of that for -ever.” -</p> - -<p> -Usk bowed uneasily, as Maimie could just distinguish from where she -crouched. She was completely shielded from the sight of Mr Steinherz, -although she had ventured to creep out on the balcony, and was now -close to them, her black gown indistinguishable in the darkness. Even -if Usk should chance to turn his head, she believed that she was quite -safe, and could retreat into her own window in a moment. -</p> - -<p> -“You will know,” said Mr Steinherz, “that my father, King Paul X. of -Cantabria, was driven from his throne in ’48. When I was born he was -already an exile at the Court of Vindobona. His mother was a Pannonian -archduchess, and the two houses had always been united by the closest -bonds. He received at the hands of his cousin the Emperor the honours -due to a reigning monarch, and on his death it was only at Vindobona -and the Vatican that my brother Ramon was recognised as titular King -of Cantabria. Ramon is a man of science and a philosopher, however, -and in daily life he contents himself with the older and undisputed -title of Prince of Arragon. My mother was a princess of Weldart—an -aunt of the lady who has already linked your family and mine by -marrying your uncle Count Mortimer.” Maimie saw Usk move -uncomfortably, and guessed that he was trying, in a dazed kind of way, -to discover whether the connection thus disclosed between himself and -Félicia need be any bar to their marriage. The same idea had come to -herself with a thrill of hope, but she saw its absurdity in a moment. -Mr Steinherz had risen from his chair and was walking about. -</p> - -<p> -“I cannot speak calmly when I think of my mother,” he went on. “For -political reasons, which means, in plain English, her brother’s need -of money, she was married to my father as a child of seventeen, after -being summarily converted for the purpose. Needless to say, her -consent was not asked to either process. She made him an excellent -wife, and if he had taken her advice, it would, I believe, have -averted the revolution which cost him his throne; but on account of -her German and Protestant upbringing she was always looked upon with -distrust, and my father himself shared it. So strongly did she -disapprove of the perpetual intrigues by which he sought to regain his -kingdom after losing it, that soon after my birth an amicable -separation was arranged, without giving rise to any scandal. My mother -retired with me to an estate on the Adriatic, where my father and -brothers visited us occasionally, and I was sometimes conducted, much -against my will, to Vindobona, which my mother, on the plea of -ill-health, always avoided, and from which I always returned to her -with increasing joy. As I grew older her one fear was that I might be -taken from her, and to escape this she proposed that I should be -entered as a student at the naval academy of the great dockyard and -arsenal which lay not far from us. Though all my training hitherto had -been military, it was the sea to which my own heart turned, and I -don’t know whether my mother or I was the more rejoiced when I was -allowed to follow my bent. For several happy years I worked hard at -the mysteries of shipbuilding—much harder than suited my superiors -and companions, who would have preferred to see me placed in some post -of nominal authority, where I should not trouble them. Several times -it was suggested that I should be appointed to a sea-going ship, and -sent on a long cruise, but my mother’s piteous entreaties—she humbled -herself to my father and the Emperor in her agony at the thought of -losing me—and my own absorption in my work, which seemed likely to be -productive of great advantage to the navy in future, gained me a -respite. One of the complaints against me was that I withdrew myself -from the society of companions of my own age. It did not occur to my -accusers that in my leisure hours I had the constant society of a -woman who had read widely, thought deeply, and suffered much, and that -this had quite spoiled me for the company of the class of men I met -every day. I always look back to my twenty-third year as the period of -my greatest happiness—perhaps in contrast with the dark time which -followed. A legacy had come to me from a godfather when I was -twenty-one, and I spent the greater part of it in building a large -steam-yacht from my own designs. Some of my relations looked askance -at such waste of money, but the Emperor, finding that the yacht was -intended to test various inventions of my own in naval matters, was -pleased with my interest in my profession, and encouraged me. I called -the yacht the Claudine, after my mother, and spared no pains to make -her the smartest and most seaworthy craft of her size afloat. When she -was finished we tested her in all weathers. I had a crew enrolled from -among the fishermen with whom I had made friends as a boy, and my -mother was always my passenger. Only one of her ladies cared for the -sea, and she made her her constant companion on these trips. Aline von -Hartenweg was young, beautiful, enthusiastic, devoted to my mother, -devoted to the sea—is it any wonder that an attachment sprang up -between us? We were so happy, so thoroughly contented with our life, -that we did not ourselves perceive the chief cause of our happiness. -Others saw it before we did, notably the chaplain at the Castle, whom -my mother always suspected of being placed as a spy upon her. -Presently a furious letter from my father announced that he was coming -to put an end to this foolishness, and to send me off on a three -years’ cruise. My mother had long been suffering from a mortal -disease, but I shall never believe that she might not have lived for -years, if she had been left in peace. As it was, the shock, and the -realisation of the truth, were too much for her, and when the King -arrived he found her on her deathbed. She had poured out her soul to -me on the subject of Aline, assuring me that the marriage would never -be allowed, that our attachment could only cause misery and -contention, and adjuring me to go abroad as my father wished, unless I -felt that my life’s happiness was bound up in Aline. I assured her -that it was, and her last words to my father, who could not in decency -refuse to hear them, were a petition that we might be allowed to -marry. Then she died.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Steinherz came to a standstill at the window, and stood looking -with unseeing eyes at the starry sky overhead, the rustling black -plane-trees in the square far below, surrounded by their ring of -lamps, the low dark houses beyond. Maimie hid her face lest its -whiteness should betray her. -</p> - -<p> -“My father was less angry than his letter had prepared me to expect,” -Mr Steinherz went on. “He could not but disapprove most strongly of my -choice, he said, and would promise nothing as to the future, but if I -would consent to make a voyage round the world at once, giving my word -not to hold any communication with the Countess Aline while I was -away, he would see what could be done on my return. I murmured at the -harshness of the stipulation, reminding him that my brother Florian -had been permitted to marry Princess Erzsebet Mohacsy, who was not of -royal blood; to which he replied, with the cynical brutality he -sometimes affected, that she brought a princedom as the price of the -alliance, whereas my poor Aline’s father could barely give her a -dress-allowance. I yielded. My mother’s entreaties to me not to come -to an open breach with my father were still in my ears, and I could -not see anything better to do. I was appointed to one of the largest -Pannonian men-of-war, and I did not dislike the cruise. When I had -been away two years, the news of my brother Florian’s death recalled -me hastily to Vindobona, and I found Aline—married. What pressure -they had brought to bear on her, what lies they had told her about me, -I do not know and did not ask; but she was married to a rough fellow -called Baron Radniky—a noble, it is true, but the very type of a -churlish, bigoted reactionary. I had a terrible scene with my father -when I learned the truth, and I swore I would remain in Pannonia no -longer. I would cast aside my rank, as I had intended to do if I -married Aline, and go out into the world a free man. He laughed in my -face when I said this, and as soon as I was outside the room I found -myself under arrest. For weeks I was a State prisoner inside the -palace,—I, who was accustomed to freedom and an active life,—and at -the end of that time my relations thought they could deal with me. The -Emperor patched up a reconciliation with my father, and I was allowed -my personal liberty, but forbidden to leave Vindobona. All the people -round me were spies—my cousins the Archdukes, the servants, the gay -young men who were set on to divert my mind. I saw there was no hope -of escape at present, and I allowed myself to seem resigned. Aline -lived far away in the country. She had passed out of my life, and for -that I was thankful. But the vicious idleness of my surroundings I -could not endure, and at last I obtained leave to set up a laboratory -in my father’s gardens, at a safe distance from the palace, in order -to continue my scientific experiments. Here again the Emperor stood my -friend, and even allowed me to send for my foster-brother, Martin -Richter, and install him as my assistant. It was supposed that he did -all the menial work of the laboratory; but my relations would indeed -have been astonished if they had seen prince and peasant labouring -together, for he knew as much of the theoretical part of the work as I -did, and in the practical part we relieved one another.” -</p> - -<p> -“And this was all a blind?” Usk ventured to ask, as a smile, called up -by his recollections, crept over Mr Steinherz’s face. -</p> - -<p> -“It was all done with a purpose, and when by-and-by I was allowed to -run down to the Adriatic for more important experiments on board the -Claudine, though the limit of my stay was strictly fixed, I knew my -time was at hand. But before it arrived something happened which -changed the whole character of my flight. In her lifetime my mother -had befriended a young girl, the last descendant of a noble, but -poverty-stricken, family of Weldart. As a child, Konstantia von -Lilienkranz had shown extraordinary talent in several directions, and -her own intense desire was to go upon the stage. My mother dissuaded -her from this, but sent her, at her own expense, to a famous -conservatorium, where her musical gifts might be cultivated, intending -to find her a post as Court pianist when she grew up. Her death left -the poor girl friendless, for she knew too well the light in which her -patroness had been regarded by the members of the Imperial family to -seek help from them. The variety of her talents had created quite a -sensation at the conservatorium, and admiring professors and -fellow-students had done so much to spread her fame that she was -actually offered an engagement to play <i>ingénue</i> parts at a leading -Vindobona theatre, while a great <i>maestro</i> volunteered to train her to -sing in grand opera. Remembering the wishes of her patroness, she -refused both offers, and had the courage to strike out for herself in -a new line—as a society entertainer, you would call it, I suppose. -She gave a series of concerts at which she herself, either as singer, -reciter, or instrumentalist, supplied all the items, and the idea was -so new and daring that she was the sensation of the moment in the -capital. This was soon after I had been allowed a little more freedom. -I was anxious to show an interest in my mother’s <i>protégée</i>, and -went to hear her play several times. I sent her bouquets, and asked to -be presented to her, the girl receiving the attentions, as they were -offered, purely as marks of kindness from the son of her patroness. -But the censorious world thought otherwise, as I ought to have -remembered would be only too likely in the case of a woman in her -position. My cousins met me with meaning looks, and congratulated me -on my conquest. ‘The stony-hearted Stanzerl,’ as the gilded youth of -Vindobona called her, had stepped down from her pedestal, so they -hinted. The cessation of my attentions might have ended the scandal as -regarded myself, but the whispers had reached her. One day the old -woman, half-attendant, half-duenna, who lived with her, came to me -privately to beg me not to show any further interest in her charge, -who was in the deepest distress owing to the reports spread concerning -her. I was horrified and disgusted. That I should have brought this -anguish upon my mother’s favourite! Impulsively I wrote off to my -brother Florian’s widow, whom I knew to have the kindest heart in the -world, telling her what I had reason to belief was the case, that -Fräulein von Lilienkranz found the strain and publicity of her life -very trying, and would be most thankful to exchange it for a more -sheltered one. Would not my sister-in-law find room for her in her -household, even if only as instructor in music to her year-old -daughter? I waited impatiently for the answer. Princess Florian wrote -in evident distress of mind. She would have been delighted to befriend -any one in whom my mother had been interested, but in this case she -had been <i>warned</i>—deeply underlined—that it would be <i>wiser</i> not to -take any step, and she <i>could</i> not disregard the warning. I was -perplexed and disappointed, but I could not give up my plan so easily. -I ran down to my sister-in-law’s estates on a visit—having duly -obtained leave—and asked her point-blank why she would not help -Fräulein von Lilienkranz. With the utmost difficulty I extracted from -her that in view of the rumours connecting the young lady’s name with -mine, she could not admit her into her household. In vain I pointed -out to her that if I had unwittingly compromised the girl, my -relations might at least do what they could to clear her name, but she -was afraid of offending my father, and would do nothing. Then I saw -that there was method in what had been done. I was to be entangled in -an ordinary vulgar scandal, to keep me from rushing into an unequal -marriage. There and then I determined to turn the tables upon my -friends, and I waylaid the old duenna the next day, and with all -possible frankness took her into my confidence. I told her it was my -desire to marry Fräulein von Lilienkranz, and intrusted her with a -letter asking for an interview. The adventure pleased me; there was -something chivalrous in the idea that made me half in love with the -girl already, and when I saw her, her resistance to the notion -determined me to persist in it. She was horrified at the thought of -injuring the son of her patroness, but she was lonely and troubled, -and had learnt that a public life is not the easiest one in the world -for a good woman. I told her that I was resolved upon escaping from -Pannonia, and that if she would give up her career for my sake, we -would make a home together in the New World. I had not foreseen her -adoring gratitude, and it made me ashamed, but she consented, and I -laid my plans—quickly, you may guess, for whether I attended her -concerts or stayed away from them, tongues wagged afresh, and -Konstantia suffered a new martyrdom. I needn’t waste time in telling -you of the different failures and disappointments I had to face; let -us go on to the decisive moment. It was a cold spring evening. I had -ordered a special train to be in readiness to take me southwards at -eleven o’clock, and I had also invited a number of friends to supper -at ten, on the understanding that we were to make a night of it. You -observe that the arrangements sound slightly inconsistent?” -</p> - -<p> -“I was just thinking so,” said Usk. -</p> - -<p> -“Precisely; but then my friends knew nothing about the train, you see. -I had hinted to one of them when I invited him that after supper ‘das -Stanzerl’ would recite, and they had all got to know of it. The -meeting-place was my laboratory, suitably decorated, of course, for -the occasion, and my friends enjoyed themselves thoroughly. I was one -of themselves now, they all assured me. Even my old enemy the -chaplain, who I had insisted should be present, smiled benignantly -upon me. Konstantia, her maid, and myself were alone ill at ease, all -knowing what was at hand. When the servants had left, Konstantia gave -the promised recitation. It was a scene from some classical drama, but -I can’t tell you what it was, for I never heard a word of it. The -girl’s nerve was magnificent. She did not falter once, and at the -close I advanced towards her with the usual compliments, as if to lead -her to a seat. She placed her hand in mine, we turned and faced the -company—the priest was exactly opposite us. ‘Father,’ I said, ‘in -your presence and that of these witnesses I take this woman to be my -wife.’ All sprang up. I silenced them with a gesture, and Konstantia -repeated clearly and without hurry, ‘Before God and these witnesses, I -take this man to be my husband.’ We exchanged rings before they could -stop us, then, ‘Gentlemen,’ I said, ‘the Princess wishes to retire.’ -As I made no attempt to reach the door, they did not prevent -Konstantia and the maid from leaving the room. Furious at having been -tricked into acting as witnesses of a marriage ceremony, my cousins -and the rest stormed at me. They vowed they would keep me prisoner -until I swore that the whole thing was a joke; they even threatened to -kill me there and then. As for the priest, he menaced me with the -direst wrath of the Church, both here and hereafter. I listened to all -that they had to say, then silently revealed to them that my hand was -upon an electric button. ‘You may not be aware, gentlemen,’ I said, -‘that the vaults under this building are packed with explosives. Here -is an electric wire,’ I traced its course along the wall towards the -door, ‘communicating with them.’ There was an instantaneous, almost -mechanical movement from the neighbourhood of the door as I approached -it. ‘I am a desperate man,’ I said, with my hand on the door, ‘and if -I am interfered with, I set the current in motion. The result you can -probably imagine. Any attempt to force the door from within will -explode the mine. I wish you a very good night,’ and I was outside, -and making the door fast, before any of them had recovered from their -surprise.” -</p> - -<p> -“But was it true about the dynamite and the wire?” asked Usk. -</p> - -<p> -“There were certainly explosives in the cellar, and there was an -electric light wire which led down to it. There was also a slight -tincture of what I have since learnt to call bluff.” Mr Steinherz -smiled genially. -</p> - -<p> -“You must have been an awfully cool hand!” -</p> - -<p> -“Coolness was needed in our circumstances. I calculated that we had -nine hours’ grace at the outside. The laboratory was in a secluded -part of the garden, the servants had been sent to bed, and the walls -and door were strong. The only windows were in the roof. Unless any -accident happened, my friends were safe until they were missed in the -morning, and then it would take some little time to release them, and -organise a pursuit. But, you will say, there was the train, which -could be stopped at any point by telegraph. True, but it was Martin -Richter, disguised in my fur coat and cap, who travelled by the train, -and with him was the old nurse. We had calculated with the greatest -nicety how far he could hope to get before the telegraph was set at -work, and just before that point was reached he was to have the train -stop at a wayside station, where horses were ready. We had arranged -every imaginable expedient for baffling pursuit, and from thence he -and the old woman were to travel by unfrequented routes to a quiet bay -on my own estate, where the yacht was to be lying, having slipped out -of harbour in the night. The train was merely a blind. For Konstantia, -her maid and myself, I had procured English passports and circular -tickets—money can do much—and we joined a large personally conducted -party of returning tourists which was leaving Vindobona that night. -The two girls had gone straight to the station as soon as they left -the laboratory. The conductor was watching out for them, and added -them to his flock without the slightest fuss or mystery. I followed, -after making such changes in my personal appearance as might prevent a -chance recognition—nothing theatrical, merely precautionary touches. -We did not venture to show that we knew one another, and those hours -of terror, which were bound to elapse before the frontier was reached, -we spent in separate compartments. We crossed the frontier safely. So -far my <i>ruse</i> was unsuspected, but I can’t describe to you the -excitement that beset me all through that journey. The approach of an -official gave me a bad half-second, for my dash for freedom might be -brought to an ignominious end at any moment. But we reached Calais, -crossed the Channel, and arrived safely at Charing Cross, without -having exchanged a word since we left Vindobona. I would not trust -even the conductor, who might afterwards put two and two together. -Konstantia knew what she had to do. We took tickets for Bradcross, a -decayed riverside suburb which had once been a great shipbuilding -centre. I knew it well, for I had explored it thoroughly on a former -visit to England—the same visit, by the way, in which I danced with -your friend Mrs Sadleir, whose husband was then in the Government, at -a ball at Trentham House—since to me its historical associations were -even more attractive than the great modern dockyards elsewhere which -had supplanted it. In that train we ventured at last to meet and -speak, to discuss our future. You will ask, perhaps, why I had not -made straight for Hamburg and America. There were two reasons. First, -if the trick with regard to the special train should be discovered, -that would be the route on which we should be looked for; and again, I -was anxious to make assurance doubly sure by being married a second -time. The ceremony in the laboratory, such as it was, though -absolutely irregular, was so far valid that nothing short of an appeal -to Rome could dissolve the marriage; but we had nothing to show for -it, and if all the witnesses conspired to deny it, we were powerless. -Moreover, Konstantia was a Protestant, and I, of course, had been -brought up a Catholic. My idea was to throw ourselves upon the mercy -of some English clergyman, explaining to him as much of our story as -was necessary, no more, and ask his advice. At Bradcross, I thought, -I could find quiet lodgings, where we might lie <i>perdus</i> while the -hunt for us went on, for the three weeks’ residence which I understood -was required by the English law before a marriage could be solemnised. -We had to find a clergyman, a lodging, everything, and all without -exciting suspicion. Fortunately, I spoke English as travelled princes -are wont to do, fluently and without accent, and Konstantia with -readiness, while the maid, Julie Schlesinger, her foster-sister, had -picked up enough of it to find her way about. But we were a very -forlorn trio as we descended the narrow flight of filthy steps that -led down into the street from the Bradcross railroad platform, the -girls carrying their satchels, and I the cloaks of the party.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Steinherz paused, and the slow smile crept over his face once more -as he thought of that first day of freedom. From far below came the -dull roll of traffic in the side-streets, with an occasional sharp -scraping sound as a horse stumbled on the granite roadway, while in -the square itself the approach of a hansom smote upon the ear like a -dropping fire, becoming more and more insistent, only to be lost again -suddenly in the general rumble. Maimie was listening with the -intensest interest for what was to come. She knew that her mother’s -maiden name had been Julia Slazenger, and she felt she was on the eve -of further discoveries. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch03"> -CHAPTER III.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE BURDEN OF A SECRET.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Presently</span> Mr Steinherz went on with his story, and Usk noticed a -subtle change in his manner of speech. Hitherto, he had spoken -“fluently and without accent,” as he had said himself, but with a -certain precision of phrase that betrayed the man to whom English was -not his native tongue; now he became by degrees the American once -more. -</p> - -<p> -“I knew Bradcross well enough to feel sure that the old parts of the -town, which had been the goal of my former rambles, were not likely to -afford any decent lodging for the girls, and as we reached the street, -I turned to the right, intending to try our fortune in the newer and -more respectable portion. But almost next door to the station there -was a lecture-room or mechanics’ institute of some sort, and a placard -on the notice-board caught my eye. It was the announcement of a -Protestant lecture the following week, the chair to be taken by the -Rev. Mr Cotton, Vicar of St Mary Windicotes. I knew the church well -and had visited it often—it was the oldest in Bradcross—and this -active controversialist promised to be the very man I needed, any way. -We retraced our steps, Konstantia and the maid following -uncomplainingly where I led, though it was evident they shrank from -the narrow squalid streets through which we had to pass to reach the -church. I knew where the clerk lived, and requested his wife to show -the ladies the building while I called on the Vicar. The good man was -at home, but at first I thought I had backed the wrong horse. He grew -stiffer and stonier at every word as I explained my position. I -learned afterwards that he had been victimised time and time again by -persons representing themselves as Catholics desirous of embracing -Protestantism, and deprived, naturally, of their former means of -livelihood. But I persevered. I was a Catholic, I told him, and had -married a Protestant against the wishes of my relations, who were -certain to have the marriage declared invalid in order to separate us. -Would he recommend us suitable lodgings, and give us his countenance -until we could be married afresh according to English law? It makes me -laugh yet when I remember how suspicious that good man was, and yet -how completely I hoodwinked him. He was clearly relieved when he -discovered that I was not in need of money, for I had been careful to -furnish myself with several hundred pounds in English gold and notes; -but he cross-questioned me most severely in order to ascertain whether -there was any other impediment to our marriage than that of religion. -Since the real state of affairs never occurred to him, naturally -enough, I was able to satisfy him, but he had the prudence to consult -his wife before surrendering finally, and she assured him that he was -being had once more. However, they concluded to interview Konstantia, -and we adjourned to the church, where we found the two poor girls, -both of them tired clean out, sitting in one of the pews while the -clerk’s wife related in a loud whisper the history of the place—of -which, as she told it, they could hardly understand a word. Our story -sounded suspicious, no doubt, but the Vicar’s wife forgot all of her -suspicions the moment she saw Konstantia. The girl looked so very -young and tired that the excellent lady was convinced of her -truthfulness on the spot, and she hadn’t talked to her but a few -minutes before she astonished us by insisting that she and Julie -should take up their quarters at the Vicarage, while a lodging would -be found for me elsewhere. Pursuit was to be baffled by the simple -device of anglicising our names, so that Konstantia became Miss -Constance Lily Garland, and I Mr Joseph Bertram (Mr Cotton advised me -unhesitatingly to drop the ‘Maria’ as a badge of Popery, and I did so -right away). There was more kindness yet in store for us. Mrs Cotton -did not think it well for betrothed people to see too much of one -another, and her husband, after inquiring into my tastes, got me a -temporary post as foreign correspondence clerk to a great shipbuilding -firm in the parish. Here I gave so much satisfaction that the firm -were good enough to offer me a permanent appointment, and when I -declined that, gave me a letter of recommendation to their -correspondents in America, which I never presented. That three weeks -at Bradcross was quite idyllic. After my day’s work, I would drop in, -evenings, at the Vicarage, which lies back of the church. You approach -it by a green gate in a high wall, and inside there is a little patch -of grass and two or three lilac-bushes. Konstantia used to be waiting -for me on the lawn, and there we would sit, never minding the smuts. -If I haven’t said much about Konstantia, don’t think it’s because -there’s nothing to say. She adored me in a real whole-hearted way, -much more than was good for me, I am sure, and never so much as looked -back regretfully at what she had given up for my sake. As for me, I -was desperately in love yet with my own magnanimity in giving up so -much for her, and her devotion pleased me. We really were perfectly -happy those evenings, until Mrs Cotton called Konstantia in, and her -husband came out to talk theology with me. I had to be stiffened up in -my new Protestant principles, you see, and if I met that good man -again, I would make him happy by assuring him that since those days I -have never entered a Catholic church, any way. Well, the three weeks -came to an end, and we were married in our English names, Julie -signing the register as Julia Slazenger, but at the Vicar’s suggestion -we all wrote our original names on the inside of the cover at the end -of the book, with a reference to the proper page, and he pasted a -piece of paper over them, so that it might be removed if there was -ever any question as to our identity. I have been sorry all the time -since that prudence obliged me to break off all relations with these -good people as soon as we left Bradcross. You see, any accident would -have enabled my family to trace us that far, so it was necessary to -start a fresh trail, and I took our passages for New York in the name -of Mr and Mrs Steinherz, without telling the Cottons of the change. -Moreover, that we might be thoroughly <i>demokratisch</i>, as suited the -country to which we were going, Julie became my wife’s friend, not her -maid. We met with no difficulty in our second journey, and I expected -none, for at my Bradcross employer’s I had read in a Pannonian paper -the interesting news that ‘Prince Joseph of Arragon has sailed in his -yacht Claudine on a foreign cruise. A vessel of the Imperial Navy has -been detailed to escort his Royal Highness.’ That meant, I knew, that -Martin Richter had done his work so well that I was believed to be on -board the yacht, and a man-of-war had been sent in chase of her. On -our voyage I fell in with a man named Logan, a shipbuilder in a small -way in Rhode Island. Community of tastes drew us together, and I -agreed to put in a week or two in his neighbourhood before settling -down elsewhere. The truth was, I was waiting for Richter, with whom I -had arranged a method of communication. As soon as I let him know -where I was, he was to dispose of the yacht, either by firing her or -running her ashore, and join me, bringing Konstantia’s old nurse with -him. But instead of Martin came the news that the yacht was really -lost with all hands. He had handled her with the most consummate -skill, baffling the pursuing warship half round the world, but through -some accident she got him cornered inside a reef in the Australian -seas, with a gale coming on. He was staunch to the end, and actually -tried to take the ship out by a passage that was practicable only for -the native canoes, and that in fine weather. She struck, of course, -and was beaten to pieces in the surf, and not a soul escaped. Our -safety was secured—at that price. For days I could settle to nothing. -In all my dreams Martin and I had worked together, and I could not -feel able to do without him. Then my wife suggested that I should pay -some attention to the hints Logan was continually throwing out. He -wanted to have me join him in the business, for he was smart enough to -see that I knew where I was when ships were in question. Besides, he -wanted to marry Julie—she was a good-looking woman, and had picked up -a lot from Konstantia—and he thought it would be pleasant if I bought -the next lot to his, and built a house on it, that our wives might not -be separated. The comicality of the idea took my fancy, and I went -into business with him. I made things hum in that shipyard, and poor -old Logan got frightened. I would go ahead in spite of all his -forebodings, and at last, at his desire, I bought him out. We were -just as friendly as ever. He was free of the yard yet, and loafed -around all day, prophesying that my ships would go to the bottom as -soon as they were off the slips; but they didn’t, and when he died he -left me his daughter’s guardian. His wife had died before that, and -Maimie became our child ’most the same as Félicia. I went on -inventing and improving, and making a pile—not because I wanted it, -but because the thing just happened. We had a boy, and he died, and -when Félicia was six years old my wife died, and I have gone on -making money and fighting to keep out of society. And now I guess I’m -through,” and Mr Steinherz laughed to see Usk’s start of surprise at -this complete and startling return to his ordinary mode of speech. -</p> - -<p> -“Then your family have actually no idea that you are alive?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not the slightest. They advertised their undying grief at my loss, -and boomed that shipwreck all it was worth, for it cleared off a -scandal in the most satisfactory way. The surprise wedding was buried -in oblivion, and when a whisper of the truth got around, it was -promptly silenced. Naturally, you couldn’t expect them allude to it on -the tablet at Vindobona, though all of the other remarks proper to the -occasion are there.” -</p> - -<p> -“And no one in America ever penetrated the secret?” -</p> - -<p> -“Just one man, and I was in deadly fear when I found it out. It was -our mutual friend Hicks. He got it in his head that I was a Hamburg -shipping clerk that the police were watching out for, who had forged -his employer’s name and eloped with his daughter, and he set to work -to trace my movements right back to my starting-point. Pretty soon he -found he was on the wrong track, and then a chance word from a friend -in Vindobona sent him flying along. The scandal, the rumoured -marriage, the escaped Prince—there it all was, and if a mysterious -hint in his paper hadn’t suddenly shown me what he was aiming at, so -that I took Konstantia along, and we just threw ourselves on his -mercy, he would have made his own fortune and the ‘Crier’s’ by -revealing all of the story. He took pity upon us and kept his mouth -shut, and he and I have been friends ever since. I have appointed him -Félicia’s trustee in case of my death.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you don’t intend to be reconciled to your family?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why should I? They are all thoroughly happy, believing me dead, and -enjoying my property. If my son had lived—well, I don’t know, but I -guess I would have laid things before him when he came of age, and -given him his choice. Florian left only a daughter behind him, and -Ramon has three, and no sons. There seems a fate against us Albrets. -If he had concluded to claim such rights as will be mine on Ramon’s -death, I daresay we could have fixed it. With the pile I can show, -there wouldn’t be much difficulty in having them recognise my -marriage. The Emperor could do it, with Ramon’s consent, and if I -greased the wheels a bit, Félicia would pretty soon be a Princess of -Arragon.” -</p> - -<p> -Maimie drew in her breath sharply. Usk spoke with some hesitation. -</p> - -<p> -“Please don’t think me officious, sir—it’s quite against myself, you -know—but do you think it is fair to keep her in ignorance—the -Princess, I mean?” -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Félicia Steinherz, you mean,” corrected Félicia’s father. “I -think it so far fair that if the Emperor, and my brother Ramon, and -all of my family, were to kneel to me to-morrow, and entreat me to -come along back, I would refuse, and forbid them to mention the -subject to her.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then you feel that your experiment was a success?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t pretend that I never felt the difference between the gayest -and most polite society in Europe and that of a one-horse American -coast-town, and the smart people in New York who would have liked to -welcome me with open arms as a multi-millionaire haven’t compensated -me much. But I made a determined break out of that elegant prison of -mine, just to lead my own life,—a better life, I may fairly say, than -that old one,—and if it was to do, I would do it again. A succession -of such marriages as mine might yet save the great houses with which I -have the honour to be connected; but they won’t see it so. I am glad -to have cut myself off from them.” -</p> - -<p> -“But should not Miss Steinherz know the truth?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, sir, she should not.” The words came crisply. “If I told Félicia -in the morning all of what I have told you, by the evening, prompted -by that little firebrand Maimie, she would have cabled to Vindobona, -‘What price full recognition?’ I did my best to make her as democratic -as we thought ourselves, sent her to the most typical American school -and college I could find, and she comes back with the most consuming -ambition for social distinction that I ever saw in a woman. It comes -partly from the way girls are brought up in the States—but if that -was all, it might expend itself in trampling under foot every male -creature that comes near her. It is mostly the Hohenstaufen blood -coming out. She would a million times rather be a poor relation in -Ramon’s priest-ridden household than an American heiress of no -particular birth—or so she thinks now. With so many needy archdukes -to be provided for, it would be easy enough to fix her up with a -husband, and she would be plunged back in the life from which I broke -away.” -</p> - -<p> -“But if she preferred it?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t take any stock in her preferences. When I concluded to -Americanise my family, Lord Usk, I guess I began a generation too -late. I should have taken myself in hand first, for I have never -acquired that subservience to my womenfolk which the true American -glories in. The neighbours set my wife down as a domestic martyr, I -believe; and I am free to confess that if she had thought less of the -honour I had done her, we might both of us have been happier. But -Félicia has grown up in full knowledge of her rights as an American -woman, and a pretty strong determination to see that she gets them; -and I will acknowledge to you that when we fall out the forces on -either side are more evenly balanced than I care about. I give my -orders and stick to them, and gain the victory that way; but the -peace-offerings afterwards come expensive. Can you wonder that I have -no particular use for a storm over this?” -</p> - -<p> -“But supposing that she should ever find out——?” -</p> - -<p> -“How’d she do it? But I have watched out for that. When she marries, -her fortune will remain in the hands of trustees, though settled -strictly on herself. If any other person, either her husband or any -member of my family, claims to get control of the money by virtue of -any family or state law, I have fixed it that all but the merest -pittance will go to the Mayor of New York for the time being in trust -for the beautifying of the city. I guess Tammany won’t have such a -chance go by, and my noble relations must just climb down.” -</p> - -<p> -“I think you are very wise,” said Usk slowly. -</p> - -<p> -“But that’s only in case she marries a foreigner. What I should fairly -admire would be to have her marry an Englishman. I thought of an -American first; but where would I find one that wouldn’t lie down and -let Félicia walk over him if there were ructions? Maybe you see now -why I have encouraged you to visit here?” -</p> - -<p> -“Because you think I could be trusted to keep Miss Steinherz in -order?” -</p> - -<p> -“Now don’t get mad. Your feelings were not just exactly a secret, you -know, from the first day you came. The actual fact is that Hicks, -knowing my wishes, brought you along that you might fall in love with -Félicia, and you did, right away.” -</p> - -<p> -“Perhaps Miss Steinherz knows your wishes too?” -</p> - -<p> -“It is my mature opinion, sir, that she does not. If she did, I -incline to think they would not stand much chance of fulfilment. But -you are on a different platform, and I am talking with you as a -business man. I would like to marry my daughter to an Englishman of -sufficiently high position to make my family think twice before they -meddled with him. You seem to me to fill the bill pretty well. So far -as I understand, you are a young man needing money and some one to -shove you along, and in marrying Félicia you would get both. I guess -that tremendous ambition of hers would justify its existence then—she -would see you Premier or die. Think it over.” -</p> - -<p> -“What is there to think about?” demanded Usk hotly. “It’s not as if -you had told me anything that could change my feelings. Félicia is -Félicia, and I can’t say more than that. I should be proud and -thankful to marry her this moment if she would have me. But supposing -the truth ever comes out, how can I face her if she asks me how I -dared to keep her in ignorance, when she might have made a far more -splendid match?” -</p> - -<p> -“How would it ever come out? You won’t tell her, Hicks won’t tell her, -I won’t tell her—and there’s no other person knows the secret. It -would need a series of most improbable coincidences to bring it to -light, any way. As things are now, you are a most suitable match for -her—rank on your side, the dollars on hers. Of course, if you are -afraid to go ahead, just because the unlikely will maybe happen, I -can’t help it.” -</p> - -<p> -“I only want to act fairly by her. If I felt she could justly reproach -me——” -</p> - -<p> -“If she does, just go down town for an hour or so, and bring her along -a bracelet when you come back,” was the unsympathetic reply. “Or it -might even run to a necklace, but you would better reserve that for a -pretty large emergency. Well, go home and think it over.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t want to think it over. If you will only give your consent on -condition that I keep silence, what can I do?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t see but you’ll have to give in,” smiled Mr Steinherz, “being -the man you are, and in your present state of high emotion.” -</p> - -<p> -“Unless you meant me to consult my father——?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not at all. I have the highest respect for your parents, but I -understand they both look at everything from a lofty moral standpoint. -They would think it my duty to do about forty million things that I -don’t incline to do, and that would tire me. No, my first reason for -telling you all of this was that it seemed playing it pretty low down -to put you in a position in which some extraordinary chance might -spring the family history on you without warning. And, of course, you -might object to mix the Plantagenet blood you Mortimers are all so -proud of with that of Albret and Hohenstaufen. You feel yourselves on -a level with the royal houses of Europe, I believe—even leaving out -of account the Continental adventures of your father and uncle, and -the new lustre they have shed upon your name?” -</p> - -<p> -“May I ask your other reasons?” asked Usk, his blood tingling at the -tone of genial sarcasm. It was clear that Mr Steinherz did not share -Mr Hicks’s enthusiasm over Count Mortimer’s marriage. -</p> - -<p> -“There’s only one, but I won’t tell you that right now. You see this -envelope? I will seal it and direct it to you, and you can open it -this day six months, or at my death. The enclosure will explain -itself.” -</p> - -<p> -Usk put the envelope into his pocket, struck by the change in his -host’s manner, but the momentary gloom passed quickly. -</p> - -<p> -“Think things over to-night, as I said. We will meet at the club -to-morrow at eleven, and you can tell me what you have concluded to -do. I have been frank with you, and I look to you to be frank with me. -And I’ll make just this one exception to your vow of silence. You may -tell all of the circumstances to your uncle, Count Mortimer, if he -should be in Europe any time. Don’t trust them to paper. He is a man -of the world, and will fix you up with the best advice. I say this -because Hicks asked me some time back to nominate him as a second -trustee, if he would consent to act. And one thing yet. If by any -grievous necessity you are forced to have the secret become public -property, face it out boldly. You would rather marry the Yankee -shipbuilder’s daughter than the morganatic daughter of a Prince of -Arragon, wouldn’t you? So I thought. Well, remember that my marriage -was not morganatic. I made it just as legal and binding every way as I -could, and there is to be no half-recognition. If Félicia is not a -Princess of Arragon, she is Miss Steinherz of Rhode Island. I leave -her mother’s name in your care. All of the proofs that you’ll need are -in Hicks’s hands—papers, portraits, little things that belonged to my -mother, the list of witnesses of the Vindobona marriage, my own sworn -and attested statement of the facts—Hicks has everything in charge.” -</p> - -<p> -“What has Mr Hicks got in charge?” asked a voice gaily as Mr Steinherz -opened the door leading into the sitting-room. Maimie stood at the -side-table, pouring out a glass of iced water from the jug which was -placed there in compliment to American tastes. Anxious to hear as much -as she could, she had found it quite impossible to escape when the -voices approached the door, and had barely succeeded in reaching the -table. -</p> - -<p> -“What are you doing here this time of night?” asked Mr Steinherz. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, I have been sitting up,” said Maimie glibly, “and I guess my -book wasn’t soothing enough. I don’t feel the least bit like going to -sleep, any way, and the water in my room is just torrid, so I -remembered this pitcher here, and came to get some.” -</p> - -<p> -She faced her guardian boldly, with bright eyes and flushed face. “I -just hope he won’t have me produce the book that proved so -interesting,” she thought, and then became aware that the glass in her -hand was shaking visibly, for the long crouching in a cramped position -had left her deadly cold. “Like must cure like!” she said to herself, -and drank off the water with a smile to Mr Steinherz. “I’d like to -have you tell Félicia that she mustn’t pass along her nerve-attacks -to me,” she added aloud. “What with her headache and that book, I’m so -nervous I could dance.” -</p> - -<p> -“Unless you have a particular wish for Lord Usk as a partner, I would -advise you to go right to your own room, and do it there,” said Mr -Steinherz, and Maimie was thankful to escape. Passing Félicia’s door, -she caught the monotonous tones of the weary maid, who was reading her -mistress to sleep, and heard also a pettish voice say, “What nonsense -you make of it, Pringle! I believe you are going right asleep. I had -just lost myself, and now you have waked me up again.” -</p> - -<p> -“Maybe I ought to go and massage her head,” said Maimie thoughtfully -to herself, “but I guess I’ll have Pringle go on suffering this once. -I want to think. If Félicia only knew! But if I told her now, the -same house wouldn’t hold her and her father. And I can’t tell Lord Usk -about it, because he knows already, nor talk about it with Pappa -Steinherz, because he would know I’d been listening, and it’s no use -thinking of making it public, because he would be fit to deny all of -the story, and I suppose it couldn’t be proved without him. When I -concluded to find out why he was so set on marrying Félicia off to -this lord, I didn’t ever expect this. It’s tremendous. -For—the—land’s—sake!” she spoke slowly and emphatically, “what a -boom I could work up if we were back in New York! But here I don’t see -I can do anything with it any way. I guess I’ll just have to save it -up in case Prince Malasorte should show his face again. I might fix -things then so’s it would fall to him to charge it on Mr Steinherz. -But what am I to say about my listening? I’m not ashamed of it a -cent—though I did feel awfully mean when he talked about his -love-affairs—but some folks would think it cast a doubt on my -evidence. What I want is some queer fact that would be likely to set -my wits to work until I puzzled out the thing for myself. But suppose -there isn’t anything really. Suppose Mr Steinherz dreamed all of the -story—suppose he has lost his mind! Oh, I can’t endure this! There -must be something right away back that I could remember, to give me -the clue I want. St Mary Windicotes! Where have I ever heard that name -before?” -</p> - -<p> -She sat for a while pondering the question, then sprang up, and -throwing open a huge trunk in a corner, plunged her arm to the very -bottom, and brought out a small old-fashioned Prayer-book. She turned -to the fly-leaf. On it were written the words, “Julia Slazenger, from -her sincere friend Marian Cotton. St Mary Windicotes Vicarage, May -18th, 18—.” -</p> - -<p> -“I knew it!” she cried, “and Aunt Connie used to tell Fay and me all -about it evenings when we were babies. We thought it must be a mean -sort of a place, but she seemed real fond of it, and I would know it -anywhere. I’ll go right there, and look up that register for myself. -Charing Cross, Mr Steinherz said—that’s somewhere down town, I -know—and Bradcross is a suburb, so I guess it can’t be far away. I’ll -take that message about Félicia’s shoes to the store myself, instead -of having Pringle go, and then I’ll go way down there without any -other person’s knowing. I <i>will</i> find out whether it’s a dream or -not.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch04"> -CHAPTER IV.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">HIT AND MISS.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -“<span class="sc">Oh</span>, the dear cunning things! They’re just too sweet for words!” -</p> - -<p> -Maimie was standing before the gate of St Mary Windicotes churchyard, -contemplating, with a rapt expression of ecstasy, the two huge -laurel-wreathed skulls, carved in stone, now hideously blackened with -time, which crowned the high gate-posts. The clerk’s wife, unaware -that in seeing these skulls the visitor was fulfilling one of her -dearest and creepiest early hopes, felt that the grisly objects were -not being treated with proper respect. -</p> - -<p> -“They ain’t no figures of fun, miss. It’s what we all ’ave to come -to,” she observed reprovingly. “Not but what old Mr Cowell opposite -did say, when there was a talk of takin’ of ’em down and puttin’ up -common stone balls like in their place, ‘Never a foot do I set within -the church-door again if them death’s-’eads is took down,’ says he. -‘I’ve see ’em all my life as boy and man, and the church wouldn’t be -the church without ’em.’ But there’s no call for strangers to be -a-lovin’ of ’em, but only to remember their latter end, as may be -sooner than they think.” -</p> - -<p> -They were now walking up the path, itself flagged with gravestones, -which led to the church-door, and Maimie noticed with something of a -shudder the embattled rows of monuments on either hand, of all sizes -and shapes and all manner of deviation from the perpendicular, and the -ranges of displaced stones which lined the churchyard walls. For the -moment she felt that she hated the place. How could people in their -senses have had a wedding there? It was bound to turn out badly. -</p> - -<p> -“And in that very pew there, as is now cleared away”—the clerk’s wife -was concluding with much impressiveness a speech containing valuable -historical information—“my mother see with her own eyes the great -Dook of Wellington sit hevery Trinity Monday, for to ’ear the -appointed sermon.” -</p> - -<p> -This information was generally received with bated breath by visitors -to the church, and the good woman was conscious of very natural -disgust when Maimie responded to it merely with a casual “Is that so, -really?” They had paused in the porch while the guide pointed out the -modern representative of the fateful pew, but now she led the way in -with a jangle of keys and a contemptuous sniff. Maimie devoured the -scene with eager eyes. The fine dark oak carving in the chancel, the -small oval window representing the Nativity, and the large window -above it, decorated in stripes of crude colour—she knew them all, but -there was something wanting. -</p> - -<p> -“There ought to be pictures of Moses and Aaron there!” she cried, -pointing to the chancel, “and right high up on that wall a big shadowy -picture of some old king or queen, in a great gold frame.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, now, to think of you knowin’ that!” the clerk’s wife was -somewhat mollified; “and you must ’a been rare and small when you left -the parish, miss, for me not to remember you.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’ve never been here in my life before, but I heard all about the -church in America,” said Maimie breathlessly. “What’s come to the -pictures?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, Moses and Aaron is there still, miss, hid out of sight behind -that there bed-furniture, as I calls it—and as like as two peas to my -aunt’s best bed, as lived out Earlham way,” pointing to an elaborate -curtain behind the communion-table. “That’s the new Vicar’s -doin’”—Maimie felt her heart sink—“and her Majesty Queen Hann and -the Royal Harms is both took down and made away with—despisin’ of -dignities, as we’re told shall be.” -</p> - -<p> -“But the registers are here yet, I suppose? and I can see about this -marriage, any way?” asked Maimie anxiously, for the clerk was coming -up the church, unorthodox corduroys marring the effect of his -professional black coat. She had discovered from a board over his door -that he was an undertaker in a small way on week-days, and it had been -necessary to send a boy to summon him, while his wife led the way to -the church. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh yes, miss. No one can’t do nothing to them. Here’s Clegg just -a-comin’. You step this way,” and Maimie was ushered into the vestry, -a small room panelled throughout in dark oak. Light was admitted by -two windows close under the ceiling, and the decorations were confined -to a table of the Degrees of Affinity, and another, quite as long and -a good deal more complicated, of burial fees. Presently the clerk -arrived, and opened a huge safe built in the thickness of the wall and -masked by the wainscoting. -</p> - -<p> -“What might be the year of the marriage you was wishin’ to find, -miss?” he asked, and Maimie noticed that the woman looked suspiciously -at her when she answered. She had determined that she would give no -clue to her identity, in case some evil chance should lead Mr -Steinherz to revisit the church, but she foresaw that it might be -difficult to maintain this reticence. -</p> - -<p> -“And ’ave you any idea what part of the year would be likely, miss?” -asked the clerk again, selecting a volume and laying it upon the -table. -</p> - -<p> -“May, somewhere near the 18th,” was the reply, greeted with a gasp by -the clerk’s wife. -</p> - -<p> -“And the names, miss? There was a good few weddin’s just about that -time.” -</p> - -<p> -“Joseph Bertram to Constance Lily Garland.” Maimie’s voice was shaking -a little, but her excitement was nothing to that of the clerk’s wife. -</p> - -<p> -“Now you just tell me who you are,” she said resolutely, interposing -her substantial person between Maimie and the register. “You ain’t -neither of them two foreign young ladies, that I’m certain, and you -won’t tell me as you’re Mrs Bertram’s daughter—Miss Garland as was? -What have you got to do with it?” -</p> - -<p> -“My mother was at the wedding, and signed the register,” Maimie -admitted. -</p> - -<p> -“Then you ain’t got nothink to do with Mr Bertram’s family?—though -why they should think to interfere at this time of day beats me.” -</p> - -<p> -“’Ere it is, miss,” said the clerk. “Joseph Bertram to Constance Lily -Garland, by the Vicar, May 19th. Do you wish a copy?” -</p> - -<p> -Moving aside unwillingly, the woman allowed Maimie to approach the -table. There was no question of a dream or hallucination here, at any -rate. There was the entry, and as Maimie turned over the pages, there -also was the slight discoloration of the inside of the cover which -showed where a slip of paper had been pasted upon it. She ran her -finger along the line, and resisted an eager desire to try and tear -the slip off. When the clerk asked again whether she would like a -certified copy of the entry, she was obliged to pause before -answering. Without the addition which that piece of paper held -concealed, the certificate was of comparatively little value; and yet, -supposing that by some accident or otherwise the church should be -destroyed and the register with it, might not the copy just suffice to -establish the marriage? Knowing nothing of Somerset House and its -requirements, Maimie saw herself the <i>dea ex machinâ</i> in the -restoration of Mr Steinherz to his original position, and replied -unhesitatingly that she would have a copy. While the clerk was making -it out, she stood looking with a vague awe at the pile of registers -remaining in the safe. Was there still among those dusty volumes with -their ragged edges the one which, as Mrs Steinherz had told with bated -breath, contained records of many burials distinguished by the letters -“Pl.,” denoting a victim of the Great Plague? But the clerk’s wife was -not content to waste such an opportunity, and interrupted her -meditations. -</p> - -<p> -“And so your ma—Miss Slazenger as she were then—signed there, did -she, miss?” indicating the rudely formed letters in which a hand -accustomed only to the German character had inscribed an unfamiliar -name. “Mrs Cotton she took to her wonderful, just the same as to Miss -Garland. It do seem a pity as you shouldn’t have come before she left -the parish, after all the many times she have said to me, ‘Mrs Clegg,’ -says she, ‘I would give a deal to know what become of Mr and Mrs -Bertram after all, that I would.’” -</p> - -<p> -“Then Mrs Cotton is not dead?” asked Maimie eagerly. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, whatever give you that hidea, miss? The Vicar ’ad a stroke and -give up the parish, and they lives down at Whitcliffe now. This last -summer as ever was, they arsk Clegg and me down for the day, and took -us for a ride in a carriage, and give us tea in the garden, just like -ladies and gentlemen—though if you arsk me, I say give me an ’ouse, -or even a harbour, the grass bein’ damp and spiders about.” -</p> - -<p> -“Could you give me Mrs Cotton’s direction?” -</p> - -<p> -“To be sure I could, miss—Windicotes, Cavendish Road, -Whitcliffe-on-Sea. But, miss, if you’re lookin’ for witnesses to swear -to that there weddin’, don’t you forget that me and Clegg was there -just as much as Mrs Cotton and the Vicar, him givin’ the bride away -and me ready with a bottle of salts in case of the ladies’ bein’ -overcome. Why, Mrs Cotton she says to me herself that morning, ‘Mrs -Clegg,’ says she, ‘don’t you let your Tommy go to school to-day, and -I’ll make it up to him’; and if she didn’t set him to play marbles -just outside the churchyard gate, sayin’ that if he saw a cab drive -up, or so much as any strangers comin’ along, he was to run in and -whisper to her at once, ‘and then, Mrs Clegg,’ says she, ‘you and me -will fasten the church-door and pile the forms against it until Mr -Cotton have finished the service, sooner nor let those dear young -people be separated before they’re properly married, for it’s in my -mind as Mr Bertram’s cruel relations will try to part ’em at the -last.’ And I was that worked up with the thought of Miss Garland bein’ -dragged off shriekin’ to one of them convents, and that nice young -gentleman her ’usband—for a fine military-lookin’ gentleman he was, -though a trifle ’aughty in speakin’—throwed into chains and a -dungeon, that I ’id my broom be’ind the church-door, and I was ready -to fight for ’em, I was. Not that anythink come of it, after all.” Mrs -Clegg spoke with evident disappointment. -</p> - -<p> -“I’ll remember,” said Maimie. “But don’t tell any one that I’ve been -here, any way.” She folded up the certificate and placed it in her -pocket-book, gave the clerk his fee, and prepared to go. “The cruel -relations may show up yet, you know.” -</p> - -<p> -“So they may, miss, but you may depend upon me and Clegg.” The clerk’s -wife was now escorting her out of the church. “I see you know all -about that bit of paper at the end of the book there, which I -understand there’s property dependin’ on it. Now you’ll maybe ’ardly -believe it, miss, but neither me nor Clegg have ever mentioned that -slip to a livin’ soul, least of all to the new Vicar, as ain’t ashamed -to walk about the parish in petticoats, and wearin’ a Roman mitre on -his ’ead.” -</p> - -<p> -The description was startling, but Maimie recognised the object of it -when she was walking past the vicarage, having rid herself of Mrs -Clegg by means of a gratuity. The green door in the high wall opened, -and a tall thin man came out, wearing a cassock and a curious -head-dress that seemed a cross between a Tam-o’-Shanter and a -mortar-board. A youthful voice from the other side of the narrow -street inquired shrilly, “Where <i>did</i> you get that ’at?” and a small -boy scampered away as fast as his legs would carry him, while the new -Vicar, with the air of a martyr, walked rapidly towards the church. As -for Maimie, she stuffed her handkerchief into her mouth to restrain a -peal of hysterical laughter, and turned her steps hastily towards the -station. Her experiences of the morning seemed altogether too absurd -and incongruous for real life, and in spite of the strained excitement -with which she had set forth on her quest, the clergyman’s martyrlike -aspect put the finishing touch to her helpless mirth. When she was -safely in the train, and had allowed herself the luxury of a long -laugh over this anti-climax to her adventure, she became suddenly -serious, however. -</p> - -<p> -“Now let me see,” she said severely to herself; “what have I gained, -any way? Well, I know that Mr Steinherz and Aunt Connie were married -at that church, and that there’s a slip of paper which <i>may</i> cover -their secret. And I’ve found three witnesses certainly—four if the -old Vicar’s mind isn’t affected by his stroke—who can testify to the -marriage. I guess it’s just as well that the gentleman in the ‘Roman -mitre’ wasn’t the Vicar when Pappa Steinherz went to enlist his -sympathies. I don’t believe he has any; he might even have assisted to -drag poor Aunt Connie shrieking to a convent. Well, but after all, -it’s quite possible yet for Mr Steinherz to have made out that he was -Prince Joseph of Arragon when he isn’t, or even to have invented the -tale just to impress Lord Usk. I don’t think so, but I’m set on -looking things in the face. Any way, I guess I can’t do anything -towards clearing up the affair without Mr Steinherz’s help, or else -the use of those relics that Mr Hicks has in charge. How am I to fix -things? I have no pull on Pappa Steinherz, and if I make him mad he’ll -just take Fay right away from me, and break my heart. I’ll have to -wait. And yet something ought to be done right now, or some of those -old folks that can swear to the marriage will be dying off. I wonder -if I couldn’t take their evidence. No, I’m pretty certain it would -need to be sworn to before a judge, and I daren’t have any other -person come into the secret, even if I knew a judge to speak to. Well, -I guess I must sit tight, and that’s all just now.” -</p> - -<p> -Nevertheless, when she left the train at Charing Cross, and took a -hansom mechanically to drive to the hotel, her brain busied itself -with a fresh problem, which was yet an old one, the question of -preventing an engagement between Usk and Félicia. Such an engagement -would put an end once for all to her ambitious schemes for Félicia’s -future, which seemed perfectly feasible in the light of the -revelations of the night before. Not that either Maimie or Félicia -herself would have cared much for the engagement, had there been a -prospect of a more brilliant alliance, but it would give Mr Steinherz -a vantage-ground of which he would make full use. Once Félicia was -engaged, he would see that the engagement was fulfilled. He would -hurry on the marriage, and never relax his vigilance until his -daughter had become Viscountess Usk, and Félicia, in her present -mood, would offer no opposition. The prospect of escaping from his -tutelage, and feeling that she was her own mistress (Usk did not -count), was far more attractive to her than Maimie’s lofty hopes. It -seemed that there was no help for it, and Maimie decided reluctantly -to bow to circumstances, and make herself so agreeable to Usk that he -could not but approve of her friendship with Félicia. As she came to -this decision, she was startled by meeting Usk and Mr Steinherz face -to face. Her driver was trying to cross Oxford Street in the direction -of Bloomsbury, but there was a block in the traffic, and an inexorable -policeman detained the hansom close to one of those islands of refuge -on which strange groups assemble by force of circumstances. Here stood -Mr Steinherz and Usk, unable to penetrate the solid phalanx of -vehicles which confronted them, and waiting with what patience they -might while the policeman marshalled a train of old ladies and country -cousins in readiness for a break in the line. They were the last -people Maimie would have chosen to meet at such a moment, when that -dreadful certificate seemed to be burning in her pocket. -</p> - -<p> -“You are out pretty early, Maimie,” said Mr Steinherz. -</p> - -<p> -“I——I came out on an errand for Félicia, way down in the City,” -stammered Maimie, remembering for the first time that the errand had -never been performed. -</p> - -<p> -“You should have mailed the order. I don’t choose to have you running -around for Félicia. You look just tired out.” -</p> - -<p> -“I wish you had been with us just now, Miss Logan,” said Usk, changing -the subject hastily, either on account of Maimie’s evident -embarrassment or because he could not bear to hear Félicia blamed. -“We came across the Archduke Ferdinand Joachim and an aide-de-camp -poking about Trafalgar Square in mufti. Wasn’t it a good thing I had -studied him so long yesterday, so that I could point him out to Mr -Steinherz? But I did wish you and Miss Steinherz were there.” -</p> - -<p> -Usk spoke fast and somewhat nervously. Maimie read in his face that -the night had made no change in his feelings. He was prepared to marry -Félicia and keep her in ignorance of her father’s descent, and Mr -Steinherz was well pleased with his decision. Maimie felt that she -hated them both. -</p> - -<p> -“By the way,” said Mr Steinherz, “I guess I am in Félicia’s black -books yet?” Maimie nodded, for she had left Félicia comfortably -established in her room, with no intention of showing herself for the -present. “Well, we lunch Lord Usk to-day, and he would be real sorry -to miss her. Do you happen to know anything she wants right now?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, I guess one of those gold girdles with turquoise bosses would -fix up her new Paris tea-gown to perfection,” said Maimie slowly, -adding vengefully to herself, as she saw Usk redden, “I won’t let you -down easy this time, Pappa Steinherz—talking that way about Fay -before her best young man!” -</p> - -<p> -“Then maybe you’ll intimate that I’m bringing along something of the -sort when you get back,” said Mr Steinherz. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, certainly. I guess you’ll find Regent Street the best place,” -cried Maimie, as the cab moved on. It was some satisfaction to her to -see the disappointment on Usk’s face. “He’s death on getting it over,” -she said to herself; “and now Mr Steinherz will have him trail -half-way round London before coming in.” -</p> - -<p> -But her satisfaction was dashed with dismay when she remembered again -the pair of dainty high-heeled slippers still reposing in her satchel. -How could she account to Félicia for the morning which was to have -been devoted to changing them? If she refused to give an explanation, -or offered a lame one, she knew Félicia would never rest until she -had solved the mystery. And if she guessed that Maimie did not wish Mr -Steinherz to know what she had been doing, she would appeal to him -sooner than allow herself to be foiled. There was a relentless -malevolence about Félicia on these occasions, when Maimie was trying -to deceive her purely for her own good, which Maimie felt deeply. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t dare go back without changing them,” she sighed to herself, -and standing up, began an agitated colloquy with the driver. -</p> - -<p> -“Can you get back to the City from here, hackman, right away?” she -asked him. “There’s something I have forgotten.” -</p> - -<p> -The man asked where she wanted to go, and then opined that the shop -could easily be reached by way of Holborn. He turned at the first -opportunity, and as they approached the corner Maimie caught sight of -Mr Steinherz and Usk a second time, looking at some books in a -shop-window. They had not gone far towards Regent Street, and Maimie -laughed to herself as she thought of Usk’s impatience. When she looked -round again, her attention was attracted by a man standing on the -pavement at the corner, who was gazing—glaring was the word that -occurred to her—across the street at the bookshop opposite. He was -elderly and poorly dressed, and evidently a foreigner, with a ragged -beard and unkempt hair. -</p> - -<p> -“An Italian,” said Maimie to herself. “How he looks! like a lion -stalking his prey. What can he be staring at, any way?” -</p> - -<p> -As the thought crossed her mind, the man dashed suddenly into the -street in front of the hansom, and seeming not to hear the lively -remonstrances of the driver, who was obliged to pull up pointblank, -threaded his way through the traffic to the opposite corner. Maimie, -watching him carelessly through the side-window, saw him reach the -pavement. What followed was done all in a moment. He took one step -forward, there was the flash of something long and shining which fell -and rose and fell again, and Mr Steinherz sank heavily against Usk. -That was all Maimie saw, for her wild scream sent the horse, already -startled by the sudden check, tearing down Holborn, and it seemed to -her an eternity before the driver succeeded in stopping it, and -turning back again at her frenzied entreaty. The irate policemen whose -orders they had disregarded in their wild career, and the other -drivers whose destruction they had sought to compass, took no notice -of them as they returned; every one was running or looking in one -direction. Even at that moment Maimie was conscious of a feeling of -wonder as the crowd gathered. People came hurrying out of shops, -pouring down side streets, rushing up from behind, and very soon the -hansom could go no farther. Maimie waited in agony while the driver -tried to force his horse through the crowd, and found herself the -recipient of the confidence bestowed on a friend by a boy with a -baker’s basket. -</p> - -<p> -“I see ’im come runnin’ like mad, brandishin’ ’is drippin’ knife—as -good as a theaytre. ’E run strite into the middle of the street, all -among the ’orses, rarght in front of the dray. Blowed if ’e didn’t ’it -out at the ’orses with the knife as ’e went down. ’E <i>was</i> gyme!” -</p> - -<p> -“Say, who is it? what has happened?” gasped Maimie to a policeman, who -found even his authority insufficient to clear a passage for him into -the midst of the crowd, and was forced to content himself with -ordering the people on its outskirts to move on. He answered civilly, -and with obvious self-importance. -</p> - -<p> -“An Eye-talian, miss, supposed to be a lunatic, that stabbed an -American gentleman, and then threw himself under the ’orses’ feet.” -</p> - -<p> -“But Mr Steinherz—the gentleman who was stabbed?” she cried. “I saw -it all. What about him? He is my guardian.” -</p> - -<p> -“You saw it, miss? Then I must trouble you for your name and address. -You’ll be wanted at the inquest. They’re takin’ him to the ’orspital.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, where is it? You’ll show me, officer, won’t you? But I guess I -ought to go and fetch his daughter. You’ll let the hack through?” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s no good, miss. I doubt myself if he’ll live to reach the gate. -You had better send the cab away, and I’ll take you to the ’orspital.” -</p> - -<p> -“Tell me about it, any way. What did you see?” Maimie asked -feverishly, as the policeman pushed a way for her through the crowd, -after she had dismissed the cab. -</p> - -<p> -“All I saw as I come along Oxford Street was ten or twelve people -round an old party as I thought was preachin’ on the pavement. I went -to move ’em on, and a lady bursts out and ketches ’old of me that -tight I couldn’t move. ‘Oh, policeman, policeman!’ she says; ‘murder! -save him! fetch a doctor, quick!’ and ’olds me tight all the time, -while the old chap goes on jawin’ to the crowd about a righteous -vengeance and the task of his ’ole life, and his father bein’ shot and -his mother turned out of doors in a winter’s night, and defyin’ -anybody to arrest him, though he’d thrown down his knife. And then, -all of a sudden, while I was strugglin’ to get free from the lady, he -give a great yell and cried out, ‘It’s the wrong man—not the -Archduke!’ and caught up a long knife with blood drippin’ from it off -of the pavement, and went for the people. They made room for him -pretty quick, I can tell you, and he rushed across into ’Olborn, and -me after him. You’d have said he was mad if you’d seen him charge the -traffic just like an army, as I did, and he’d near got through when he -was knocked down by a dray. And there’s no need to take <i>him</i> to -’orspital. And what was it you saw, miss?” -</p> - -<p> -“I just saw him standing on the side-walk and watching, and then he -ran across and pulled out something, and struck—and struck—and -then——” Maimie’s voice failed her. -</p> - -<p> -“Case of mistaken hidentity,” remarked the policeman complacently, -“but it’s not often those foreigners make mistakes. Now it’s a curious -thing——” -</p> - -<p> -But Maimie was not destined to receive further enlightenment from his -stores of wisdom, for they had arrived at the hospital gate by this -time, and Usk was coming out of it, looking like a man who was going -to be hanged. -</p> - -<p> -“He’s gone!” he said heavily, in answer to Maimie’s gasp of -inquiry—“died just as they carried him in. But you’re here—and you -know all about it—you’ll be able to tell Félicia. I didn’t know how -to break it to her. I was trying to think what I should say if I had -to tell Phil that our father was dead. But you’re a woman, you know -how to put things, you can soften it to her——” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I can’t! I daren’t!” cried Maimie, shrinking back. Then she -remembered in a flash that if she threw the burden of the disclosure -upon Usk, it would be a tacit recognition of his position with regard -to Félicia. No, he was not engaged to her yet, and if Maimie could -help it, the engagement should not take place. -</p> - -<p> -“I guess I’ll have to do it,” she said resolutely. -</p> - -<p> -“I’ll take you back to the hotel,” said Usk. “The policeman will call -a hansom, for I’m sure you can’t walk.” -</p> - -<p> -“Tell me just what happened. Who was the man?” asked Maimie -breathlessly, when they were in the cab. -</p> - -<p> -“I can’t tell you. It was all so awfully sudden. We were looking in at -a shop-window, when suddenly some one shouted out something in Italian -behind us—about his father and mother, I think—and I heard two blows -struck, and Mr Steinherz gave a kind of gasp, and fell against me. I -tried to lift him up and stop the bleeding, and people were standing -round staring, and the man who had done it kept talking, talking, in -English. But when I got Mr Steinherz’s head on my shoulder, so that -his face showed, the man gave a yell and dashed away. They say there’s -no doubt he mistook him for the Archduke Ferdinand Joachim, and it’s -curious that last night I noticed there was a distinct likeness -between them from behind, but not the very least in front.” -</p> - -<p> -“I would just love to tell you that I know exactly as much as you do!” -thought Maimie enviously. Aloud she merely said, “And Mr Steinherz?” -</p> - -<p> -“A doctor came up, and said he was stabbed in the lungs, and couldn’t -possibly live. He tried to speak, though the doctor told him not, but -he could only get out a few disjointed words. And just as they got him -into the receiving-room he died.” -</p> - -<p> -They had reached the hotel now, and Usk waited in the sitting-room -while Maimie went to look for Félicia. It was more than an hour -before she came back, and in the interval Usk was a prey to all kinds -of interruptions. In order to spare the girls, he made all the -arrangements he could without direct authority from them; other -matters he put aside resolutely, refusing to allow Miss Steinherz to -be troubled at present. When Maimie returned she looked so old and -harassed that he was shocked. -</p> - -<p> -“How is she?” he asked anxiously. -</p> - -<p> -“Quieter now; I’ve given her a sleeping-draught. But it’s been -terrible. Her nerves are pretty highly strung, and she screamed fit to -make your blood run cold. And I know there are millions of things to -do, and I can’t tell the way they fix them over here. Say, Lord Usk, -you oughtn’t to be here, any way; people will talk, you know they -will. Folks in England are so censorious. Do, please, go right away. -It makes me nervous to see you there.” -</p> - -<p> -Usk obeyed, with apparent willingness, for a splendid idea had entered -his head. He went straight to the nearest post-office, and telegraphed -to the Marchioness of Caerleon at Llandiarmid Castle. -</p> - -<p> -“‘Terrible accident to Mr Steinherz. Daughter quite prostrate. Can you -come?’” He read over the message. “That’ll bring her,” he muttered. -“And I never knew the people yet that the mater couldn’t comfort when -they were in trouble.” -</p> - -<p> -As he put the change into his pocket he felt a paper there. Taking it -out, he found it was the envelope Mr Steinherz had given him the night -before, to be opened after his death. The time had come already, he -realised with awe. Stepping aside, he opened the envelope, and drew -out a cutting from a newspaper. -</p> - -<div class="letter"> - -<p> -“Great consternation has been caused in august circles in Vindobona by -the reported reappearance of the Grey Lady of the Hohenstaufens. The -scene of the apparition was the portion of the Imperial Schloss known -as the Arragon-Palast, which is occupied by the Prince of Arragon, -titular King of Cantabria, and his family, when the Court is at -Vindobona, and it is alleged that the ghost-seer, a sentinel on duty, -is absolutely convinced of the reality of the sight, which is believed -to portend an approaching death in the House of Hohenstaufen. The last -recorded appearance of the Grey Lady in this portion of the Schloss -took place prior to the death of the late King Paul of Cantabria, -which occurred at an advanced age ten years ago. The king was -connected with the Hohenstaufens through his mother, who was a -Pannonian archduchess.” -</p> - -</div> - - -<h3 id="ch05"> -CHAPTER V.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">MANŒUVRES.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">So</span> confident was Usk in his mother’s kindness of heart that when -Lord and Lady Caerleon arrived in London late that evening, he was -waiting for them at the terminus, eager to conduct them at once to the -Hotel Bloomsbury. Having seen the evening papers in the course of -their journey, they were acquainted with the details of the tragedy, -and did not need to be assured by him of the desolate state of the two -girls. -</p> - -<p> -“I knew you would come,” he said. -</p> - -<p> -“How could we do anything else?” asked his mother. “Poor Félicia! -one’s heart bleeds for her. Only just engaged, and her joy clouded in -this terrible way——!” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, but—— we aren’t exactly engaged yet,” said Usk uncomfortably. -“You see, Mr Steinherz had given his consent all right, but I hadn’t -spoken to Félicia, and there has been no opportunity since.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, of course not. But this makes it rather awkward, Usk. It seemed -only natural to come and look after the poor girl when I thought she -was engaged to you, but now she may consider it a liberty.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not she, mater! She’ll think it just too sweet for words, as she and -Miss Logan are always saying. They stand in tremendous awe of you.” -</p> - -<p> -“There, Nadia!” said Lord Caerleon, “that settles it. You have somehow -managed to inspire these unknown Americans with awe, and it’s your -bounden duty to go and put things right—your duty, mind.” -</p> - -<p> -“I will go and ask if I can do anything for them, certainly, as soon -as we get there, but that’s different from having the right to go and -mother them, as it were.” -</p> - -<p> -“No; that’s just what they want,” said Usk. “Think of it, mater—two -girls alone in a strange country in such terrible circumstances! Of -course they want mothering.” -</p> - -<p> -Lady Caerleon never allowed herself to shrink from a duty when it was -once set plainly before her, and half an hour later she knocked at the -door of the Steinherzes’ sitting-room. Maimie, who was sitting alone, -worn out by innumerable harassing interviews with reporters, police -inspectors, officials from the Pannonian and United States Embassies, -and various tradesmen, thought wearily that here was another caller. -</p> - -<p> -“Come right in,” she answered with resignation, but stood up -astonished when she saw that the visitor was a stately and very -handsome middle-aged lady. The surprise did not last more than a -moment. -</p> - -<p> -“You are the Marchioness of Caerleon,” she said, and again her tone -spoke of hopeless resignation. “I sort of felt you would come.” -</p> - -<p> -“My son told me of your sad trouble, and Lord Caerleon and I thought -we might perhaps be some help to you,” said Lady Caerleon, almost -timidly. She was trying to assure herself that Maimie’s words bespoke -nothing but confidence, but she had an uncomfortable suspicion that -they covered dislike, even defiance. -</p> - -<p> -“Lord Usk is real considerate, but Miss Steinherz and I have no claim -on the kindness of his relations,” said Maimie icily. Lady Caerleon -mistook her meaning, and thought she had penetrated the secret of this -cool reception. -</p> - -<p> -“I assure you,” she said with a touch of <i>hauteur</i>, “I know perfectly -well how things stand between Miss Steinherz and my son. She need have -no fear that Usk will intrude himself and his wishes upon her at such -a time. Pray believe that I have merely come to offer you such help as -I can.” -</p> - -<p> -“You are real good,” said Maimie, blushing as she realised what her -words had implied to Usk’s mother; “but I’m so awfully tired to-night, -I just can’t seem to say things right. I don’t know what way they fix -anything over here, or what to say to the people that have been coming -around all day.” -</p> - -<p> -“My husband will undertake to see any one who comes on business, and -he will advise you in any way he can,” said Lady Caerleon, touched by -the confession. “I really think you will find it an advantage to have -a man to represent you,” she added gently. “People here like it -better.” -</p> - -<p> -“And in England it’s just as well to have a lord back of one all the -time?” Maimie spoke quite seriously, but it struck her at once that -the words sounded like an ill-timed joke. -</p> - -<p> -“I won’t ask to see Miss Steinherz to-night,” said Lady Caerleon, with -some coldness; “but if she feels well enough in the morning——” -</p> - -<p> -“If you please, miss,” said Félicia’s maid, entering the room, “Miss -Steinherz have woke up all of a tremble, and she says will her -ladyship go and see her for a moment, if she would be so kind?” -</p> - -<p> -“I’ll just speak to her,” said Maimie quickly, and she hastened to -Félicia’s room. “Fay,” she whispered hurriedly, “you won’t have Lady -Caerleon see you to-night, will you? I didn’t want to bring her along -till to-morrow, when I’ve got things fixed. I’ve planned it all out -for us to go right back home at once, so’s you won’t have to come to -any conclusion yet, and then in the spring we’ll cross to Europe just -by ourselves and have an elegant time.” -</p> - -<p> -“You make me tired—you and your plans and plots!” cried Félicia -vehemently. “I’m so nervous I could fly, and I want to see somebody -quiet and restful. That’s what I feel all the time with Usk. He’s not -smart, but he’s real good. Just bring his mother right along in.” -</p> - -<p> -Warned by the shrill voice and gleaming eyes, Maimie obeyed without a -word, wondering maliciously what Lady Caerleon would think of the -unconventional greeting she would probably receive. But Félicia made -her way to her visitor’s heart at once. After one look at the calm -beautiful face bent over her, she rose impulsively and threw herself -into Lady Caerleon’s arms. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, love me!” she cried. “Pet me, just as if I was a baby again!” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, my darling!” cried Lady Caerleon, taken by storm. “Are you come -to me instead of my Phil? I have lost her, you know; she was married -last year, and I have wanted a daughter so much.” -</p> - -<p> -She held the quivering form in her arms, stilled the sobs which broke -forth, murmured tender names, until Félicia consented to lie down -again, and then sat by her until she fell asleep, Maimie watching in -the background, with bitter jealousy gnawing at her heart. She, who -had mothered Félicia since she was nine and Félicia six, was nothing -to her now that this Englishwoman had come on the scene. Then she -remembered certain previous experiences of the kind, and was -comforted. Félicia had turned from her before, in transient fits of -virtue or of friendship, but she had always come back. -</p> - -<p> -“She is the dearest girl!” Lady Caerleon said to her husband, with -tears in her eyes, when she was at length free to seek her own room; -“very unconventional—quite a child of nature, but my heart went out -to her. It seemed as if she had always felt the want of a mother so -terribly, and to-night, of course, worse than ever.” -</p> - -<p> -<br/> -</p> - -<p> -During the days that followed, not only Félicia, but Maimie, learned -to be thankful for the presence and countenance of Usk’s parents. The -reporters had been inclined to invent scandalous stories on the -strength of the supposed likeness between the murdered American -millionaire and the Pannonian Archduke, but when Lord Caerleon, backed -by the police and the hospital officials, assured them that the -likeness was purely a delusion of the murderer’s, they were forced to -restrain their exuberant fancy. As for Usk, he stood uneasily aloof -when discussions of this kind were taking place, wondering at the -blindness of the experts. With his mind’s eye he saw continually one -of the chief treasures of Llandiarmid, a snuff-box presented to his -great-grandfather when a young soldier by the aged Emperor Matthias of -Pannonia, the great-grandfather alike of the present Emperor and of Mr -Steinherz, in recognition of a gallant deed of arms done under his own -eye. The monarch’s portrait, set in diamonds, ornamented the lid of -the box, and it seemed almost incredible to Usk that his father could -look at the face of the murdered man and not recall at once the -miniature which was so familiar to him. -</p> - -<p> -In the absence of the clue which Usk possessed, public interest, -though keenly excited by the tragedy, failed to seize upon its details -with the wolfish eagerness which would have been aroused by any hint -of the truth. It was made clear at the inquest that the murderer, who -was identified as an Italian violinist named Marco Farinelli, had been -known to the police for some time as an associate of foreign -Republicans in London. He had lived many years in England, having just -escaped the consequences of complicity in a plot against the Pannonian -occupation of Venetia. His father, who had helped him to leave the -country, and forcibly resisted the Pannonian soldiers sent to arrest -him, had been summarily shot, and his mother, who was ill in bed, -turned out in a winter night on the roadside, where she died. For -nearly forty years Farinelli had cherished the memory of his wrongs, -and it was shown that he was greatly excited by the news of the -approaching visit to England of the Archduke Ferdinand Joachim, who -had been in military command of the district in which his parents -lived. It was proved that he had tried to form a band of assassins, -who were to see that the Archduke did not leave London alive; but his -friends had other work on hand, or preferred not to bring themselves -into public notice, and he had evidently determined to accomplish his -vengeance alone. In the breast-pocket of his coat was found a paper -which aroused much curiosity—a kind of itinerary of London, duly -mapped out into days. “Wednesday, Trafalgar Square and British Museum; -Thursday, Houses of Parliament and Government Offices ...” it ran, but -the Scotland Yard officials charged with the protection of the -Archduke during his visit were able to explain it. Having learnt, with -considerable dismay, that the distinguished visitor proposed to devote -his mornings while in London to wandering about <i>incognito</i>, they -arranged with much care a false time-table, which was allowed to -circulate freely in his household. The expected leakage occurred, and -the whole arrangement became known in some mysterious way to -Farinelli, but while he was keeping his eager watch in the -neighbourhood of the Museum, the Archduke was being conducted over the -Horse-Guards. The mistake which had occurred was now perfectly clear -to the jury, who had heard Usk acknowledge that there was from one -point of view a certain likeness between the Archduke and Mr -Steinherz, and they returned a verdict of wilful murder against the -Italian, adding an expression of their sympathy with the family of the -victim. In Farinelli’s case the verdict was one of accidental death, -although there was some attempt to bring it in as suicide, and the -jury were discharged, and the nine days’ wonder was at an end. -</p> - -<p> -Maimie had found Lord Caerleon a tower of strength while the inquest -was going on. He made a point of accompanying her backwards and -forwards each day, and sitting beside her in court, and he was so -quiet and so impassive that her restless impatience seemed to be -calmed perforce. She did not fret over the fact that Lady Caerleon and -Félicia were continually together; and she received with outward -resignation the news which was awaiting her when the inquest ended, -and which she had, indeed, foreseen. It fell to Lady Caerleon to -communicate it, which she prepared to do with some anxiety, and -Maimie’s lip curled when she realised what was coming. It was quite -like Félicia to depute another person to make an announcement that -might prove disagreeable. -</p> - -<p> -“Félicia and I have been talking things over,” said Lady Caerleon, -“and we think we have arranged a very pleasant plan. But of course we -could not decide upon it without you.” -</p> - -<p> -“I guess not, indeed. Félicia and I don’t <i>ever</i> act independently of -one another,” returned Maimie, with sarcastic emphasis. -</p> - -<p> -Lady Caerleon went on hastily. She thought she understood perfectly -well the soreness which filled the heart of the girl who found herself -set aside for the lover and his relations, and she was very sorry for -Maimie. “It is very touching,” she said, “how stringently Mr Steinherz -in his will expressed his desire to be buried in America by the side -of his wife. I can quite sympathise with Félicia’s natural desire to -take his body home herself, which she tells me you suggested she -should do. But she is really not fit for it. I never saw any one so -completely a creature of nerves. The least excitement seems to throw -her into a fever, and the strain of such a journey at this time of -year would be enough to kill her.” -</p> - -<p> -“In other words, Fay don’t choose to risk a voyage in the fall,” said -Maimie to herself, even while she was listening with polite interest -to Lady Caerleon. -</p> - -<p> -“And so our idea—of course I suggested it—was that Usk should cross -to America with—the body, and superintend the funeral, and see that -everything was done as you and Félicia would wish, and that you -should both come home with us to Llandiarmid for the winter. The quiet -country life would be sure to do Félicia good, and it would be the -greatest pleasure to my husband and me to have young people about us -again. I can’t tell you how I was dreading another winter without my -daughter.” -</p> - -<p> -“Lady Caerleon—” Maimie was looking at her with searching eyes—“I’d -like to ask you just one question—does this bind Félicia to anything -when Lord Usk comes home?” -</p> - -<p> -Lady Caerleon looked surprised and somewhat annoyed. “I see nothing -binding in what I have said,” she answered. -</p> - -<p> -“There won’t be any doubt that Lord Usk goes as Mr Steinherz’s friend, -not as Félicia’s lover—that his kindness gives him no claim on her? -People look at things so differently over here.” -</p> - -<p> -“I should have thought gentlemanly conduct was the same on both sides -of the Atlantic. A gentleman does not consider that he has established -a claim upon a woman when he does her a service.” -</p> - -<p> -“Now I have made you mad,” said Maimie sorrowfully, “and I’m real -grieved. It’s just for Félicia’s sake I’m speaking. I don’t want to -see her engage herself right now, when she’s naturally thinking more -of her father’s wish, and of all your sweet love and kindness to her, -than of her own feelings.” -</p> - -<p> -Lady Caerleon wished in vain that there was some means of knowing -whether this girl was laughing at her or not. “You seem to suggest -that nothing but pressure from her father would have induced Félicia -to accept Usk,” she said. “If you have any reason to believe this, I -think it is your duty to tell me.” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, that’s just what I can’t tell you,” said Maimie, with the most -engaging frankness. “I don’t see anything of Félicia these days, and -I can’t seem to find out what she feels like. Only I had my misgivings -before all of this happened, and I don’t want to see her rushed into -anything.” -</p> - -<p> -“You may feel quite happy. No one will put the slightest pressure upon -Félicia to do anything but please herself,” said Lady Caerleon -stiffly. “Usk won’t even try to come to an understanding with her -before he sails.” -</p> - -<p> -“And when he comes back, he’ll just begin over again from the -beginning?” cried Maimie ecstatically. “Dear Lady Caerleon, you have -taken a weight off my mind!” -</p> - -<p> -“What a curious person Miss Logan is!” said Lady Caerleon afterwards -to her son. “I can never make her out. She always seems to suspect us -in some way.” -</p> - -<p> -Usk’s private opinion was that Maimie suspected the Caerleon family, -generally and individually, of anxiety to lay hold upon Félicia’s -fortune, but he would not suggest this to his mother, lest in the -shock of such an accusation she should insist upon washing her hands -of both girls forthwith. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I don’t think she likes me much,” he said lightly; “but one can’t -wonder at it, when she’s so devoted to Félicia. You won’t let her -turn Félicia against me while I am away, will you?” -</p> - -<p> -But Maimie had no thought of doing anything so crude. One of her -reasons for wishing to return to America had been the hope of -obtaining from Mr Hicks some clue to the nature of the proofs Mr -Steinherz had left in his charge; but since she was foiled in this, -she had decided to keep her secret to herself for the present. As -things were, Félicia’s claim upon her father’s relations would meet -only with ridicule if it was brought to their notice. The house of -Albret-Arragon would be likely to entertain it only if it offered some -advantage, Mr Steinherz had said, and so far there was nothing but -money to offer. But time might bring other opportunities, and it was -time that Maimie had gained. Still, she did not think it well to let -Félicia see that she was tolerably satisfied. -</p> - -<p> -“I wonder just how long you’ll find Llandiarmid endurable!” she said -to her. “You’re to have Phil’s room, you know, and sort of take her -place.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t care,” was the irritating reply. “Lady Caerleon is just -sweet. I do love to have her sit by me and talk nicely about poor -Pappa. It don’t remind me the least of what he was, but it’s real -soothing to hear.” -</p> - -<p> -There was a touch of the old Félicia in this speech, and Maimie saw -in a flash why Lady Caerleon’s society had been preferred to her own -of late. Félicia felt more at her ease with a stranger, who would -naturally credit her with possessing all the feelings suitable to the -occasion, than with one who knew as well as Maimie had done the lack -of sympathy between her father and herself. -</p> - -<p> -There was now no need to remain longer in London, and after a funeral -service at a neighbouring church, which was attended by the American -Ambassador, and to which the Archduke Ferdinand Joachim sent a -representative, Usk started on his mournful journey. His farewell was -clouded by the dismay which seized upon Félicia at the sight of the -funeral arrangements. They were so poor, so shabby, she lamented; it -would be said all over America that she had economised on her father’s -funeral. It was in vain that Lord Caerleon assured her everything had -been done without regard to expense; she was plunged in woe for a -whole day, recounting to Lady Caerleon at intervals the extraordinary -sums which had been spent on costly “caskets” and other accessories at -the funerals of different acquaintances, not heeding that her auditor -thought the expenditure a wicked waste, and the publication of the -cost ostentation of the worst kind. -</p> - -<p> -The next day the two girls travelled to Llandiarmid with Lord and Lady -Caerleon. It was a long journey, and the autumn dusk was already -gathering when they arrived, but just before the lamps were lighted, -Maimie, who was helping the maid to unpack for Félicia, happened to -glance out of the window, and laughed gently. Félicia, who was lying -exhausted on the couch, recovered sufficiently to come and look out as -well, and saw Lord and Lady Caerleon setting out together for a ramble -in the twilight. He had already routed out and put on an old Norfolk -jacket and tweed cap, and Lady Caerleon’s long skirt was gathered up -to a serviceable length. Her hand was tucked into her husband’s arm, -and they were stealing out like two children bent on a frolic, talking -happily. -</p> - -<p> -“Can you see yourself and Usk going out together that way?” asked -Maimie, in a low voice. -</p> - -<p> -“I guess not,” was Félicia’s emphatic answer. -</p> - -<p> -“But why not? It’s just awfully charming. Why, they’re not even -stout—Lord Caerleon is too active, and she worries too much over -other folks—they’re just nice, solid, comfortable, middle-aged -people. Oh, you’ll get like them, Fay. You’re going to be put in -training for that now, and don’t you forget it.” -</p> - -<p> -Félicia answered by an apprehensive glance round the room. Lady -Philippa Mortimer had not been by any means a luxurious young person, -and her favourite decorations appeared to have been hunting trophies. -Her room had seemed to her the very acme of comfort, but she had never -cared to stay indoors when she could possibly be out, and to the two -American girls the place looked woefully bare. But there was a gleam -of triumph in Maimie’s eye, and Félicia hid her dismay manfully. -Maimie scolded herself for that involuntary glance, and waited. -</p> - -<p> -For the first two or three days all went well. It was natural that -Félicia should be considered an invalid after the journey, and she -was pursued everywhere by Lady Caerleon or her maid, anxious to -establish her on the most comfortable sofa that could be found. There -was the Castle to explore, too—a small portion at a time, that she -might not be fatigued; and if Lord Caerleon was wounded by her -audacious and irreverent comments on the family portraits and other -valued treasures, he was too hospitable to betray the fact, realising -that she fully believed she was entertaining him. But the fatigue even -of a six hours’ railway journey is not expected to last for ever, and -presently Lady Caerleon hinted to Maimie that she thought it would be -far better for Félicia’s health if she would exert herself a little. -What was there she would like to do? -</p> - -<p> -It was a shock to the busy mistress of Llandiarmid to learn that -Félicia could not walk, could not sew or embroider, did not care to -sing, play, or draw, and when she read, read nothing but new novels, -of which the Castle was conspicuously destitute. Moreover, anything -that she was invited to do happened to be one of the very things that -hurt her eyes, or made her head ache, or her face flush. In her -distress Lady Caerleon took counsel with Maimie, who, though well -aware that Félicia would not walk lest it should make her feet large, -or work lest it should spoil her hands, did not feel called upon to -reveal these reasons. -</p> - -<p> -“What do you do in America, if you never go for walks?” asked the -perplexed hostess. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, we go out riding,” answered Maimie carelessly. -</p> - -<p> -“Riding? Why didn’t you tell me before? I never thought Félicia would -ride, and it will be an excellent thing for her. There’s Phil’s -horse——” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I don’t mean that. I meant carriage-rides and sleigh-rides.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, <i>driving</i>?” said Lady Caerleon involuntarily. “But she won’t come -out with me.” -</p> - -<p> -“I guess it’s just because she’s afraid you’ll have her go and see -poor folks. We don’t do that sort of thing in America.” -</p> - -<p> -“If Félicia is to live here after me, I hope she will be known as a -friend in every house on the estate,” said Lady Caerleon seriously. -</p> - -<p> -Maimie was silent. The suggestion was too absurd to need argument. -Then a happy idea occurred to her. “But Félicia has learnt riding, -Lady Caerleon, and if you have a well-mannered horse——” -</p> - -<p> -“My husband trained Philippa’s horse himself,” said Lady Caerleon, and -Maimie undertook to suggest the idea to Félicia. Félicia thought it -sounded promising, especially since it involved Lord Caerleon’s -escort, and she appeared in an exquisitely cut habit, perfect down to -the minutest detail. -</p> - -<p> -“She looks very well on horseback, but she sits a little stiffly,” -remarked Lady Caerleon to Maimie, as they watched the riders start. -“Has she ridden much across country?” -</p> - -<p> -“Lady Caerleon!” shrieked Maimie in horror; “don’t tell me your -husband’s going to take her ’cross lots. We don’t ride that way in -America—not in the East, any way—only on the roads. She’ll be -killed.” -</p> - -<p> -“You may be quite sure my husband won’t take her anywhere dangerous,” -said Lady Caerleon; but Maimie waited in agony until Félicia -returned, more dishevelled-looking than she had ever seen her. Lord -Caerleon’s good-humoured face was somewhat clouded as he helped her to -dismount. -</p> - -<p> -“You have a very good seat—for the Park,” was the only comment he -allowed himself to make upon the ride, but Félicia was less reticent -when she had reached her room. -</p> - -<p> -“Maimie Logan,” she said emphatically, “I call you to witness that I -won’t ever again go riding with an Englishman anywhere outside of -London. When I had declined all the tempting fences and ditches Lord -Caerleon showed me, I thought I was through; but suddenly we came out -upon a piece of waste land, and he said, ‘This is Phil’s favourite bit -of common. Shall we canter?’ and the horse flew off before I could -refuse. I was shaken to death, and the wind was ahead of us, so I -haven’t a scrap of skin left on my face, and I guess my bang won’t -ever curl again.” -</p> - -<p> -Maimie received this information with a shriek of unfeigned dismay, -and for the next two days Félicia remained invisible to the rest of -the household, submitting to many unpleasant and infallible remedies -warranted to restore a damaged complexion. Lord and Lady Caerleon were -overwhelmed with self-reproach, and Maimie assured Félicia that she -would never be asked to ride again. This seemed to her quite -satisfactory; but on the evening of the second day, when she rushed -upstairs after dinner, she found her friend dissolved in tears. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, Fay, your eyes!” she cried, and Félicia applied a handkerchief -delicately, then wept again. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, it’s killing me!” was her moan. “Everything here’s just horrid. -There isn’t any place to lounge—not even a rocker!” -</p> - -<p> -It was quite true. There was an old-fashioned sofa, on which it was -possible to lie at full length, but certainly not to lounge, and a low -basket-chair, which Philippa, who had upholstered it herself, had -thought the most restful thing in the world. The photograph of herself -and her husband, which hung over the mantelpiece, in the place where -she had always kept her family photographs, seemed to smile -maliciously upon the present occupier of the room, as she sat -curled-up in a nest of cushions. Maimie came gallantly to the rescue. -</p> - -<p> -“Say, Fay, we’re fixed here for the winter, and I guess we must stick -the time out. But I’ll have them give you a different room if you -won’t spoil your eyes crying.” -</p> - -<p> -“How?” asked Félicia, with some interest. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I’ll fix things,” said Maimie, mysteriously but with secret -satisfaction. Félicia was returning to her allegiance very fast. It -was another reason for contentment that Félicia asked no questions as -to the way in which she secured success. This was very simple. Maimie -told Lady Caerleon that Félicia slept badly, which was true, and -suggested that she ought not to sleep alone. Before Lady Caerleon, -somewhat puzzled, had time to propose that Maimie should move into the -same room, Maimie added that she felt sure the easterly aspect of Lady -Philippa’s room was not good for Félicia. Informed that it was the -outlook which Philippa had specially loved, Maimie retorted that that -might be so, but Félicia was just perished with cold. Lady Caerleon -remarked that she was sure to be cold in the winter if she would not -go out; to which Maimie replied that in America the houses were -heated, and people had not to go outdoors to get warm. Lady Caerleon -was horrified by the implied reproach. She had meant the girl Usk -loved to be so much to her, but in some mysterious way they seemed to -be fast drifting apart. And now it was suggested that Félicia was -suffering heroically in silence, fearing to wound her hostess by the -suggestion that Philippa’s room was too cold for her! Always ready to -accuse herself, Lady Caerleon blamed her own lack of sympathy and -insight, and entreated Maimie to say what she thought it would be best -to do. Maimie was quite prepared for this. There were two rooms -opening into one another, and facing south-west, which she thought -would be just right. And might she look about in the unoccupied rooms -of the Castle, and choose the furniture that Félicia would probably -like? In her compunction, Lady Caerleon would have given leave for -anything, and in due time Maimie introduced Félicia to a kind of -fairy bower. There were quaint tables and cabinets belonging to the -Castle, but the draperies and ornaments came from Maimie’s own stores. -She had foreseen this crisis, and provided against it. -</p> - -<p> -Lady Caerleon found that her dream of having two young companions and -helpers always with her this winter instead of one was doomed to -disappointment. The two girls spent their time almost exclusively in -their own rooms, and what they did there was a mystery. Maimie had -American books and papers sent her by post, and sometimes her voice -could be heard as she read aloud to Félicia; but Félicia’s -activities seemed to be confined to the eating of bonbons. When there -were visitors, however, both the girls made their appearance as soon -as they were sent for, and took all the burden of entertaining off -Lady Caerleon’s shoulders. About each of them would gather a circle of -worthy squires and parsons, whose honest laughter over Transatlantic -audacities of speech made the great hall ring. The country ladies, -sitting silent and astonished and a little shocked, had yet eyes to -note the Parisian elegance of the deep mourning gowns, even if they -remarked afterwards that it was just like Americans to dress with such -uncalled for smartness every day. In any case, an impression was made. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch06"> -CHAPTER VI.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub"><i>TOTÂ QUOD MENTE PETISTI.</i></span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -“<span class="sc">How</span> did Phil stand it, any way?” said Félicia. -</p> - -<p> -She and Maimie were sitting over the fire in her room, discussing the -Rector’s daughters, whom they had just been interviewing at tea. There -is no other word to describe the intercourse between the American and -the English girls, for Félicia, in a wonderful Empire tea-gown, which -revealed her white arms and shoulders through clouds of black chiffon, -had set herself deliberately to catechise the Misses Jones on the -occupations and pleasures—particularly the pleasures—of their daily -life. The Rector was a good Welshman, and his daughters, who were -rosy, healthy, country girls, rejoiced in the names of Gwladys and -Myfanwy. Now that Philippa was married, they were Lady Caerleon’s -right hand in all her schemes for the good of the parish, and their -multifarious duties had hitherto left them no time to cultivate the -acquaintance of the two Americans, whose clothes they had regarded -admiringly from a distance. Christmas was now over, however, and in -the short breathing-space at the end of the holidays Lady Caerleon had -insisted on making her young friends known to one another, and with -some misgivings had left the four girls together. -</p> - -<p> -The conversation that ensued was not entirely devoid of friction. -Something in the tone of Félicia’s questions and comments seemed to -rouse the two Welsh girls, and the sedate Gwladys took refuge in -assuring her calmly that she could not possibly understand the -pleasures and interests of a life so far removed from her own, and -therefore there was no use in telling her about them. The livelier -Myfanwy, on the other hand, was anxious to justify her contentment -with things as they were. She and Gwladys were so busy, she said, that -they really had no time to go about hunting for amusement; but when -they wanted it there was plenty of one kind or another. They had their -bicycles, and they took turns in driving their parents in the -pony-cart, and they belonged to a harmonic society, and this winter -there were University Extension Lectures in Aberkerran, and Lady -Caerleon had given them tickets. They took turns, also, in going to -dinner-parties, and in the summer there was tennis—which still -lingered on in this remote corner of the world—and croquet (Gwladys -was a crack player), and picnics, and choir excursions—the last form -of dissipation was included somewhat doubtfully. -</p> - -<p> -“But don’t you ever have any frolics?” demanded Félicia. -</p> - -<p> -Both girls looked rather offended at being asked such a question, but -inquired forbearingly what in the world she meant. Félicia, racking -her memory to recall the amusements of country girls in America, -mentioned candy-pulls, corn-huskings, apple-bees, clam-suppers, and -church-socials, to which they replied with marked coolness that in -England it was only the farmers and the Dissenters who went in for -that sort of thing. -</p> - -<p> -“Maybe this is a frolic?” suggested Maimie, with a wave of her hand, -which included the room and the tea-table. -</p> - -<p> -“It is a great pleasure,” answered Gwladys calmly; and Myfanwy added -with effusion that they loved coming to the Castle, and wasn’t Lady -Caerleon sweet? Lady Caerleon returned to the drawing-room at this -moment, and carried off the Jones girls to her boudoir, to show them a -new photograph of Philippa, which had just arrived. -</p> - -<p> -“And I know just as well as anything what she said to them when she -had them alone,” said Félicia. “‘My dears, in your simple useful -lives you are far happier than those two selfish creatures in the -parlour, who do nothing all the time.’” -</p> - -<p> -“And the girl with the queer name just threw her arms round her neck, -and said, ‘<i>Dear</i> Lady Caerleon!’” mimicked Maimie. -</p> - -<p> -“But how did Phil stand it, any way?” said Félicia again. “That was a -real sweet letter she wrote me this morning, or I’d have thought she -was trying to get at me. ‘I do envy you in my dear old room. Do please -ride Brownie, and use any of my things as much as you like. I wish I -was at home to show you round.’ How could she want to be back home? No -bouquets—no bonbons—no gentlemen—no sleigh-rides—no dancing—and -yet she lived!” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, she was a real outdoor girl,” said Maimie; “hunting and -wheeling, and taking long walks, and thankful to get a day’s golf at -Colfton now and then. You’ll act that way, Fay, before they’re done -with you. You’re to be made over, you know, and as soon as Usk arrives -home they’ll set at work. Wait until you change your mourning and the -dinner-parties begin. Think of putting in a whole day on horseback, -and dining the Jones family in the evening!” -</p> - -<p> -“I know you’re trying to have me say I’ll break off with Usk,” said -Félicia calmly, “and I would if there was anything better in sight. -But there isn’t. At least we are sure of getting right into society -here. I know it’s only the nice people Lady Caerleon visits with, not -the smart people, but that I can fix for myself once I’m presented and -have prospected around a bit. Lady Caerleon is best friends with the -Dowager Duchess of Old Sarum and the rest of the religious -aristocratic cranks, and once we break with the Caerleons all of their -doors will be shut in our faces. As I say, that’s nothing if we can do -better, but you’ve got to show me just how.” -</p> - -<p> -“But if I can help you to do far better?” demanded Maimie. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, I’d like to hear about it first.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s just what you can’t do. You must be quite innocent. But you’ll -have to fire Usk out if I give you the word.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I won’t fire him out definitely until this other plan of yours -works. I can do with him well enough if it should peter out. You -needn’t conclude I’m going to be made over to suit Lady Caerleon. I -guess I can make Usk over to suit myself. But I’m open to other -offers.” -</p> - -<p> -“If I can’t fix things right away, she’ll accept him with effusion -just as soon as ever he comes back,” said Maimie to herself; and she -plotted and planned until, as she reflected ruefully, her hair must be -turning grey. It was part of her scheme that Usk’s family, and not -herself, should take the first step towards breaking off the -understanding; and she saw her chance one day when Lady Caerleon, -speaking with obvious nervousness, seized the opportunity of a rare -<i>tête-à-tête</i> with her to say— -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Logan, I wish I could enlist your help with Félicia. I quite -hoped that the winter here would make her strong, but she gives -herself no chance to get well.” -</p> - -<p> -The implied reproach to Félicia aroused Maimie at once. “It’s just -that there isn’t anything to do here,” she replied. “If we were at -home you’d soon see she wasn’t sick. She would be going along from one -function to another all the time.” -</p> - -<p> -“Kept up by excitement? Still, that shows she can do a great deal if -she likes. But I want to see her able to work and play in moderation -without needing a perpetual stimulus. Of course I know her father’s -death was a terrible shock, but the invalid life she leads at present -is the worst possible thing for her. Always on the sofa, in that hot -room, eating sweets or sucking that horrible gum——” -</p> - -<p> -“We call it chewing gum, not sucking it,” interrupted Maimie, -listening apprehensively for the next words. Had Lady Caerleon found -out about the cigarettes smuggled in under the guise of bonbons? -</p> - -<p> -“It makes no difference. And she scarcely eats anything at meals, and -seems by some instinct to choose what is most unwholesome.” -</p> - -<p> -“That is so,” said Maimie cordially. It was clear that Lady Caerleon -had discovered nothing. “I’d just give anything to get her to think of -her complexion, and she doesn’t begin to do it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Her complexion!” There were scorn and disgust, deep if involuntary, -in Lady Caerleon’s tones. “I am talking about her health. A more -natural life and plenty of exercise—not simply creeping backwards and -forwards on the terrace for a few minutes when it happens to be -warm—would do more for her complexion than anything else. What I -think of is the future. Miss Logan, can’t you see what I feel? My boy -loves Félicia, and I hope they will have a long and happy married -life together. But how can they, if she divides her time between -spasms of excitement and helpless invalidism? I can’t help thinking of -the poor unfortunate women one meets so often in travelling—rushing -from place to place in search of some new sensation, never happy, -never contented, always bored and yet eager, with tired eyes and all -sorts of nervous complaints. And their children—their poor little -children—grown-up men and women already, living and talking, and -almost feeling like their elders, wizened and old before they have -ever been young. Generally they are Americans, these poor people, but -of late there have been more English among them. I speak in Usk’s -interests, I can’t deny it, but I do entreat you, for Félicia’s own -sake, to try and help me to save her from falling into a life of that -sort.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t see but you’ll have to leave Félicia alone,” was the reply, -as Lady Caerleon, with tears in her eyes, paused suddenly. “We are not -made like you English people, nor brought up like you, either. I know -you are not English yourself,” Maimie added hastily, “but you have -grown into English ways. We must move around, we must have interest -and excitement, and if an American woman don’t find that sort of thing -ready for her, she just starts right out and provides it for herself. -If we have smarter brains and more active bodies than you, it’s not -our fault, and you won’t do any good punishing us for it. If you leave -Félicia and Lord Usk to fix things for themselves, I guess they’ll -shake down all right.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am afraid not. I remember all my own troubles when I first settled -here, and I should like to save Félicia as much as I can. And my -husband is the calmest and most reasonable of men. Nothing but -deliberate wrong-doing would make him angry, and he bore with my -mistakes, and listened to my complaints, and helped me to begin -afresh, in the most wonderful way. But Usk is more like me. He gets -worried and irritable when he is tried beyond a certain point, and his -wife ought to be able to calm him, and not irritate him further. And -surely, if she loves him, Félicia would delight to do anything she -can to make herself a better wife for him? Think what a joy it would -be to him to find her strong and well and able to go about with him -when he comes back!” -</p> - -<p> -“<i>If</i> she loves him!” repeated Maimie thoughtfully. “Why, -certainly—but does she love him, Lady Caerleon?” -</p> - -<p> -She seized the opportunity afforded by the entrance of a servant with -a note to slip away, leaving her question to do its work. The -interruption could not have occurred more suitably for her purpose, -and during the next two or three days she managed to avoid all private -conversation with Lady Caerleon. At the same time, she was obliged to -keep constant watch lest her hostess should seek an interview with -Félicia herself. Her manœuvres had hitherto been successful in -keeping them apart without Lady Caerleon’s perceiving either the -method or the reason; but now, stung by the doubt cast into her mind, -she might insist upon a definite explanation. Then, if Félicia made -another scene, and succumbed to Lady Caerleon’s motherly kindness, all -was lost, and this was likely enough. The monotony of her indoor life, -which she obstinately refused to vary by any exercise out of doors, -was really telling on her nerves, and she would alarm Maimie by wild -outbursts of impatience. She wanted to dance, to flirt, to go to the -theatre and lose herself in a play, she wanted to run away—in fact, -she was in a state in which she would respond to any stimulus applied -to her emotions. Maimie knew very well that the contraband cigarettes -were slightly narcotised, and by this means she tried to quiet -Félicia’s nerves for the moment, while still keeping her mind on the -stretch by vague promises and prophecies, the fulfilment of which -depended upon the success of her “plan.” -</p> - -<p> -As Maimie had expected, Lady Caerleon came to her, after two or three -days of anxiety, for an explanation of her mysterious warning as to -Félicia’s feelings. The mother was determined to know the worst. -</p> - -<p> -“If Félicia doesn’t care for Usk, you ought to tell me,” she said, -“that I may prepare his mind, and not let him go on hoping in vain.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, now, Lady Caerleon,” said Maimie, with the frankness which her -hostess found almost more trying than reserve, “I’ll tell you just -what I think. I don’t believe Félicia loves your son—at present, but -I guess if he came home and asked her, she would marry him right -away.” -</p> - -<p> -“But why?” cried Lady Caerleon, aghast. -</p> - -<p> -“Why? Can you ask? Because of all your kindness and of all Lord Usk -has done. She says to herself, ‘If I can repay and please them by -sacrificing my own feelings, why, I’ll just do it!’” -</p> - -<p> -“This is terrible!” murmured Lady Caerleon. “I must speak to Félicia, -and if that is really her state of mind, I will write to Usk at once.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, please!” entreated Maimie. “Didn’t you remark that I said ‘at -present’? I would like to have her fall in love with him really. I -thought it was real kind of you and Lord Caerleon to tell him to go -and visit Niagara, and the South, and not be back until February, so’s -he wouldn’t embarrass Félicia by arriving home so soon. Well, now, if -he didn’t come back until the end of March, I guess it would be better -yet. Won’t you have him go and see the Pacific slope, and the Yosemite -in winter? By the middle of March Félicia will be changing her -mourning, and I thought we might pay a visit to her best friend, Mrs -van Zyl, at Nice. She’s set on having us, and it would be just lovely -for Félicia. Then your son could come out and see us there, and -Félicia would be able to compare him with other men. You do think he -would stand a good chance then, don’t you?” -</p> - -<p> -This was a master-stroke. Even if Lady Caerleon could have brought -herself to distrust Usk’s power of attraction, she could not confess -the feeling, and she had no wish whatever to do so. Indeed, she was -conscious of an unaccountable sensation of relief, which she -attributed to the fact that Usk would at last be able to stand on his -own merits, and take his chance in a fair field, unhampered by the -dubious advantage of Mr Steinherz’s favour. She fell in with Maimie’s -proposal at once. -</p> - -<p> -“I think it is an excellent idea,” she said. “All the gaieties will be -over on the Riviera, and Félicia will enjoy a quiet restful time.” -Maimie could have told her differently, but held her peace. “I will -speak to my husband at once, and if he agrees with me, I will write to -Usk to-day.” -</p> - -<p> -The idea did not approve itself quite so strongly to Lord Caerleon as -to his wife, and his comments opened her eyes to a truth which she had -successfully hidden from herself hitherto. Her relief sprang chiefly -from the hope that, after all, Félicia might not marry Usk. With Lady -Caerleon, to discover such a piece of self-deception was instantly to -impose punishment, and while she still suggested to Usk that he should -extend his travels, she confessed plainly that the idea was inspired -by Maimie, and sprang from a suspicion that Félicia did not really -care for him. She added also that his father and she left the matter -entirely to his own discretion, and this intimation had the -unlooked-for result that Usk promptly cancelled his remaining -engagements in America, and sailed for home by the very first steamer. -It was with the greatest reluctance that he had left Félicia in her -trouble to the care even of his mother, but it had comforted him to -feel that he was doing something for her in seeing her father’s body -laid in the grave he had chosen. The extension of his exile he had -accepted with some unwillingness, feeling that he could trust himself -to be near Félicia without forcing his hopes upon her in her time of -grief. However, if his presence would embarrass her, if she did not -know him well enough to trust him, he was content to stay away. But -this last menace to his happiness was too much. He must know the -worst. If Félicia did not love him, it was better to hear it from her -own lips, and bear it like a man, than wander about the American -continent tortured with uncertainty, and murmuring, “She loves -me—loves me not,” like a girl pulling a daisy to pieces. -</p> - -<p> -It was a sunny afternoon in early February when Usk arrived at the -little wayside station near Llandiarmid. No one was expecting him, for -the letter he had posted in New York, announcing his return, had -travelled by the same vessel as himself, and had only reached the -Castle that morning. At this moment it was lying on Lord Caerleon’s -table, in company with the telegram Usk had sent from Liverpool on his -arrival there; for Lord and Lady Caerleon had started at an unearthly -hour in the morning on a long cold drive into Oldport, where a -temperance convention was being held. Disregarding the stationmaster’s -eager invitation to step into his office while he sent to the nearest -farm and borrowed a trap to take his lordship up to the Castle, Usk -left his luggage to be fetched later, and struck off across the -fields. He had a feeling that if he met Félicia now, he would win -her, and he hurried on, his country-trained senses noting the -springing wheat in the autumn-sown fields, the pleasant smell of the -rich red plough-lands, the brown and crimson buds in the hedges, and -the twittering of the birds in the mild sunshine. Everything spoke of -life and love and hope, and Usk whistled gaily for sheer gladness of -heart as he renewed his acquaintance with the many short cuts, less -remarkable for their shortness than their complexity, which he and -Philippa had long ago discovered, and definitely laid down as the -quickest way home. The shrubbery gate was locked, of course, but he -had climbed the wall at this point too often for that to be any -obstacle, and he went on up the well-known paths. At the long wild -border under the sunny wall which marked the limits of the garden -proper he cast an involuntary glance. Philippa would have been there, -on such an afternoon as this, looking for early violets, or gathering -handfuls of snowdrops from among the grass on the opposite side of the -walk, and perhaps Félicia——? But Félicia was not to be seen, and -he turned to the old arched doorway leading into the garden and -rattled at it vigorously, nearly frightening the wits out of a meek -gardener’s boy who was at work just inside, and opened the door -timidly. On being questioned, however, the boy recovered his senses -sufficiently to volunteer the remark that he ‘see one of the young -ladies, the prettiest one, on the top terrace by herself about five -minutes back,’ for which he received a munificent reward. -</p> - -<p> -Climbing the long worn flights of steps which led from one to another -of the broad terraces in front of the Castle, Usk kept purposely in -the shade of the bushes which rose behind the balustrades. This was -his chance, to find Félicia alone and take her by surprise. He -reached the terrace next below the highest, and stopped suddenly. The -steps which faced him turned sharply at a right angle, and on the -small landing thus formed stood a sun-dial. Leaning against the -sun-dial was Félicia, her long black robes trailing on the stones, -her face almost hidden by the furs in which she was muffled. -</p> - -<p> -“Félicia!” Usk had sprung up the steps and appeared at her side. She -turned with a little scream, then a smile crept over her face. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, do you know,” she remarked deliberately, “I was just thinking -about you. I sort of felt you were not far away.” -</p> - -<p> -“You wanted me? Oh, my darling!” -</p> - -<p> -It was necessary for Félicia to free herself, which she did without -undignified haste. Then she straightened her hat, and looked -reproachful. “I don’t know what I said to give you the notion of doing -that, Lord Usk,” she said severely. -</p> - -<p> -“Only that you missed me.” Usk’s arm was round her again. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I don’t know but I have felt lonesome at times. But I never -said it was on your account, any way.” -</p> - -<p> -“Perhaps you would like me to make you say it?” suggested Usk, taking -full advantage of his position. -</p> - -<p> -“Do tell, now! Commend me to an Englishman for calm impudence! And -what has brought you along just now?” -</p> - -<p> -“I came because I couldn’t stay away any longer. <i>You</i> brought me -back, you know you did. I had to see you again.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then I guess you’re going away again right now? You seem to be taking -a look to last you a long time.” -</p> - -<p> -“If you’re counting on that, you’ll be disappointed. I shall look at -you just as hard however long I stay. I should like to look at you for -ever. Your face is never the same for two seconds together.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t feel like allowing remarks on my face unless they’re -compliments, Lord Usk, and don’t you forget it.” -</p> - -<p> -“And that wasn’t a compliment? Then I’ll show you the difference. Any -man may pay you a compliment, do you see? but I may make remarks which -are not compliments, because I love you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then preserve me from being loved, any way! But maybe your sort of -love isn’t just the usual sort?” -</p> - -<p> -“Isn’t it? I’m so sorry. Is that better?” Félicia had laid herself -open to an obvious retort in the confidence that Usk would not be -quick-witted enough to seize the opportunity. “Do you believe that I -love you now?” he asked, partially releasing her, “or shall I go on to -prove it further?” -</p> - -<p> -“I guess it’s not necessary. I can quite believe it.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you do care for me—just a little?” -</p> - -<p> -Félicia’s face assumed an expression of intense thought. “Well, yes,” -she said at last. “I think I can maybe say that I do care for -you—just a little.” -</p> - -<p> -She flashed a glance at Usk which intoxicated him with delight, and -nothing was further from his mind than the idea that her answer might -be literally true. “All right. I’ll take it in instalments,” he said -joyously. “<i>Un peu—beaucoup—point</i>—no, that’s not what I meant. -What an idiot I am! You care for me, and that’s enough.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, but Maimie don’t,” said Félicia dolorously. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, bother Maimie! No, I don’t mean that either. Of course she can’t -bear losing you. But we’ll both be awfully nice to her, won’t we? Now -that my mind is at rest about you, I’ll cultivate her—make up to her, -in fact.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not while I’m around, if you please.” -</p> - -<p> -“Now is it likely—if you were anywhere near?” -</p> - -<p> -“I guess I’ll go and tell her,” said Félicia. “Isn’t that your -parents coming in from their ride? You go and have an affecting -meeting with them, and break the news, and I’ll do likewise.” -</p> - -<p> -Maimie was indoors, kept in by a bad cold, which she had caught when -called out of bed one night to prescribe remedies for Félicia’s -headache. Nothing could possibly have been better timed than that -cold, Félicia thought complacently, though she had shown a strong -sense of injury when it had prevented Maimie from coming out with her. -She dashed upstairs and into Maimie’s room, and shot her bolt. -</p> - -<p> -“Wake up, Maimie! Usk’s come back, and we are engaged!” -</p> - -<p> -Maimie dropped her book and turned absolutely white. Then she stood up -and came slowly towards Félicia, who cowered before her. -</p> - -<p> -“Félicia Steinherz, I could kill you where you stand!” -</p> - -<p> -“How you look, Maimie! What do you mean?” asked Félicia feebly. -</p> - -<p> -“Why have you done it, any way?” demanded Maimie. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, I like Usk well enough, and I must have a man to trail me -around.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do you know who’s coming here next week?” fiercely. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, just some brother of Lord Caerleon’s and his wife.” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, certainly. Do you know how many brothers he has?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I guess there must be two, any way—this Lord Cyril and the -Count Mortimer that Mr Hicks talks about all the time.” -</p> - -<p> -“I do admire to see a girl real smart! You’ve listened pretty well, -haven’t you?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t see but I’ve listened well enough. Lord Caerleon couldn’t -expect me do more than look interested, and interrupt just right.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’d have felt like boxing your ears if I’d been Lord Caerleon.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, Maimie, you wouldn’t. It’s real sweet of me to have him talk to -me, and he knows it. You’re fallen in love with him, because he -cavaliers you around just the same as he does me, but that’s no reason -why I should.” And Maimie was crushed for the time. -</p> - -<p> -<br/> -</p> - -<p> -Now that Usk and Félicia were engaged, an impartial observer, with a -mind appreciative of irony, might have enjoyed watching the attitudes -assumed by the different persons concerned. Maimie, openly -contemptuous for a moment, became calm and tolerant after the first -shock of surprise, allowing Félicia to see that she did not take the -matter at all seriously. If Félicia chose to break a country heart -for pastime, it was no one’s business but her own, and the owner of -the heart had only himself to thank if he took for love the frame of -mind induced by propinquity succeeding <i>ennui</i>. Félicia, feeling -bound to justify her action in Maimie’s eyes, overdid her part -wofully. She raised Usk to the seventh heaven of delight by what -seemed to him her utter self-surrender. He had never imagined that she -could give herself up to him so unreservedly, although he had quite -expected that she would monopolise his time and services, as she did. -But that she should wish—nay, order him to be at her side all day, -this filled him with a sense of wholly undeserved joy, since he could -not tell that she was playing with one eye on Maimie. -</p> - -<p> -It was not long before the engagement became known in the county, -although it was not to be publicly announced until six months had -elapsed after Mr Steinherz’s death. Local interest in the event was -tremendous, and the dwellers in the neighbourhood learned to watch -almost daily for the Castle dogcart, with the ‘young lord’ driving, -and the beautiful lady muffled in furs at his side. Félicia’s neglect -of her complexion was positively heroic at this time, but fortunately -the weather was mild, and Maimie showed herself truly forgiving where -face-washes were concerned. -</p> - -<p> -“I guessed the fault was in the companion, and not the climate, when -you wouldn’t go out driving with me, Félicia,” said Lord Caerleon, -laughing, as he helped her out of the cart one day, and Félicia had -the grace to blush. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t see but I’m real English now, just like Phil,” she answered -brightly, for Maimie’s benefit. -</p> - -<p> -Perhaps the happiest of the onlookers at this juncture was Lady -Caerleon. She forced herself to rejoice in Usk’s happiness, in a way -only possible to a woman whose tendency through life had been to -choose the most disagreeable path that offered itself, in the -conviction that it was the right one. Her husband, much as he admired -Félicia’s beauty, grumbled a little in private that Usk should choose -an American bride, and one who took no interest in social questions, -but Lady Caerleon persisted that love would set everything right. -Félicia had even learnt to like the country since Usk had come home, -and very soon, no doubt, she would be taking an active interest in the -Temperance cause. In the kindness of her heart the mother even petted -Maimie, for whom she still felt an instinctive distrust, and devised -all sorts of little pleasures for her, to soften the loneliness that -fell to her lot now that Félicia had forsaken her so completely. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch07"> -CHAPTER VII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">A FAMILY LIKENESS.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">There</span> was a sense of mystery hanging over the Castle. Visitors were -expected, and a whole suite of apartments, called the Queen’s Rooms -(of course because Queen Elizabeth had occupied them on one of her -progresses), had been prepared for them, much to Félicia’s -astonishment and somewhat to her indignation. It seemed to her that -she and her engagement had sunk into insignificance in view of this -approaching visit of Lord and Lady Cyril Mortimer and the latter’s -son. Why on earth should such a fuss be made about them? she wished to -know; and she took refuge in an insulted determination not to show any -interest in their coming, although Maimie’s eyes expressed abundant -knowledge, and Usk was obviously willing to be questioned. -</p> - -<p> -Lord Caerleon and his son drove into Aberkerran to meet the -travellers, and afternoon tea was postponed until their return. This -was a fresh grievance for Félicia, who declared herself as limp as a -rag. In the intervals of eyeing the tea-table thirstily, she spared a -little mild wonder for Lady Caerleon, who was moving nervously about -the hall, altering the position of the furniture and rearranging the -folds of curtains. The brougham drove up, and Lady Caerleon flew to -the door to receive the white-haired lady whom her husband led up the -steps. Félicia’s quick eye noticed at once that the visitor was -wearing the most magnificent sables she had ever beheld, but her -amazement was extreme when she saw Lady Caerleon only checked in a -deep reverence by the newcomer’s seizing her hands and kissing her on -both cheeks. -</p> - -<p> -“Do tell, now!” whispered the astonished observer eagerly to Maimie. -“Aren’t these English people real stiff? or is it because Lady -Caerleon is a foreigner?” -</p> - -<p> -“Nadia, my dear sister!” the visitor was saying reproachfully, as -Maimie shot a glance of scorn at Félicia, “you will astonish your -young friends. Present them, please—I mean, you will introduce them, -won’t you?” -</p> - -<p> -As Lady Caerleon complied with the request, in a curiously flurried -manner, Félicia noticed that the stranger’s face did not look old, in -spite of her white hair, and that she had a very sweet smile. In her -bearing there was something so dignified, notwithstanding the -gentleness of her words and looks, that Félicia felt as if she was -being presented at Court. In Lady Cyril’s presence she suddenly saw -herself as an outsider, and began to feel nervous about her manners -and uncomfortable about her voice. -</p> - -<p> -“But I’ll watch and see how she fixes things,” she told herself, with -returning confidence. “I guess an American woman can just make herself -over if she wants to, and not be beaten by any Eu-ropian court lady.” -</p> - -<p> -Lord Cyril’s greeting restored her self-complacency. He was “just -ordinary,” she decided at a glance, small and grey-haired, with blue -eyes and unobtrusive manners, but he expressed it as his opinion that -Usk was a very lucky fellow, which showed him to be a person of -discernment. He had brought a secretary with him, it appeared, and his -wife a lady companion, but Lady Cyril’s son, Baron von Neuburg, had -been delayed on the Continent by the breakdown of a train, and would -not arrive till the next day. Félicia was still oppressed by a sense -of mystery. Why did Lady Caerleon seem to leave the initiative in -everything to her sister-in-law, and why was Lady Cyril constantly on -the point of taking the lead in another person’s house, to the obvious -amusement of her husband? The secretary and the lady companion, who -were introduced as M. Paschics and Mlle. Mirkovics, were stiff and -silent, and appeared, no doubt unintentionally, to disapprove of what -was going on; and, most unpardonable of all, Usk’s attention seemed to -be devoted chiefly to his aunt, and not to his betrothed. It was not -until tea was over, and the visitors had been shown to their rooms, -that Félicia was able to mark her sense of his behaviour by refusing -to come into the garden with him to see if there were any primroses -out. Instead, she went upstairs with Maimie. -</p> - -<p> -“Well!” she said, when they were in their own room, “I would like to -know what’s come to all of the folks. Lady Cyril’s only a dowdy old -thing after all, though her sables are too sweet for words, but they -all treat her just like a queen.” -</p> - -<p> -“And she is a queen,” said Maimie impatiently, “and her sables were -given her by the Emperor of Scythia. She is Queen Ernestine of -Thracia, who married Count Mortimer two years back, as Mr Hicks has -told you time and time again, and her son, who comes here <i>incognito</i> -to-morrow as Baron von Neuburg, is the King of Thracia. I meant you to -marry him.” -</p> - -<p> -“Land alive!” was all that Félicia could say. -</p> - -<p> -“I wanted to make you an empress, and you threw away your chance,” -went on Maimie bitterly. “And this time I was going to have you marry -a king, and a week before he comes you conclude to get engaged to -Usk!” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, Maimie Logan, have you lost your mind?” cried Félicia, -recovering herself. “You know we would never be let do it.” -</p> - -<p> -“I know you just would, then. I could fix it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, it’s too late now, and I don’t care, any way. Usk is a real -good fellow, and his folks are just lovely. I’m on yet.” -</p> - -<p> -“I do wonder how you’ll feel when you come to live way down in the -country all of the year, and be out in the air mornings and afternoons -and evenings. You’ll have a nice round contented face like the Jones -girls by then, rosy-cheeked and blowsy and dairymaidish.” -</p> - -<p> -“You needn’t be nasty.” Félicia went to the glass and examined her -face with some anxiety, but the pure creamy pallor was not yet -vulgarised by any touch of red. She laughed. “Not much harm done this -far, Maimie. I’ll tell you when I’m tired of Usk, any way.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, you won’t,” said Maimie calmly. “You’re tired of him already. -It’s getting more and more of a trial to have him stick to you the way -he does, but you let him do it just to make me mad. When you’re tired -clear out, you can let me know.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you can round up a few of the kings you keep on hand, and have me -choose,” responded Félicia. -</p> - -<p> -<br/> -</p> - -<p> -Now that her perplexity was at an end, Félicia was prepared to take -full advantage of the situation. Queen Ernestine’s obvious difficulty -in masquerading in the English household as a younger son’s wife -afforded her a malicious amusement, and she could not pardon Usk for -refusing to respond to the frequent glances she flashed at him. At the -same time, she watched the royal lady narrowly, hoping to discover the -source of the peculiarly dignified charm of manner which characterised -her. Those who knew could have told Félicia that it was the outcome -of a life of sadness and self-repression, crowned at last with a tardy -happiness chastened by apprehension. Her own soul, however, was not -sufficiently awake to note more than that the Queen seemed to do and -say the right thing by instinct, and that the grace of her bearing was -only equalled by her consideration for others. Knowing little of her -story, Félicia was captivated by her personality—although the -attraction was no bar to the entertainment she derived from seeing her -in a false position—and she felt quite virtuously indignant when -Maimie, by what seemed an unpardonable piece of <i>gaucherie</i>, brought a -shadow into the beautiful changeful eyes. -</p> - -<p> -It appeared as though a demon of mischief had taken possession of -Maimie that evening. The secretary and Mlle. Mirkovics had discreetly -excused themselves after dinner, leaving the family party alone, and -the four elders were gathered by the fire, talking. Usk and Félicia -occupied a three-cornered settee at a little distance—it was a piece -of furniture Usk liked, because the form of the seat obliged him to -turn round and rest his arm on the back, if he was to face Félicia in -talking to her. Between the two groups, at a little table close to the -standard lamp, sat Maimie, looking through the annual volume of an -illustrated paper some twenty or thirty years old, which she had -disinterred from the library for reasons best known to herself. -Occasionally she interjected remarks into the conversation of the -party by the fire, enjoying the delightful feeling that she was -outraging all etiquette, and yet that no one could rebuke her. It -happened that the talk turned upon the escapade of a young member of a -German princely family, who had recently disappeared from his home, -and was understood to have managed to join the forces opposed to Great -Britain in a little war which was then raging. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, now, that’s queer!” said Maimie. “Here in this old paper -there’s a case of the same sort. Just listen: ‘In connection with the -ill-fated Prince Joseph of Arragon, a view of whose yacht, the -Claudine, we published a fortnight ago, a Vindobona correspondent -sends us a romantic story. It is understood that the official accounts -of the Prince’s voyage to the South Seas were merely a blind, and that -his journey was in reality a flight, in which he was accompanied by a -charming young lady of noble birth, whose musical performances have -been the delight of Vindobona this winter. It is even rumoured that -they were privately married. However this may be, it is certain that -not only Fräulein von Lilienkranz, but her duenna, Frau Schlesinger, -and the latter’s daughter Julie, who was her constant attendant, -disappeared at the exact time that the Prince’s voyage was announced. -The keenest interest was felt here as to the <i>dénoûment</i> of the -romance which has been so tragically ended by the Australian -billows——.’ Do tell, Fay!” Maimie broke off shrilly. “Julie -Schlesinger! mightn’t that be my mother’s name? It caught my eye right -away.” -</p> - -<p> -“See if there’s a portrait,” suggested Félicia. “Maybe it was your -mother in disguise, though I don’t just see how it works out.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, there isn’t any. It says you couldn’t buy one in Vindobona—that -either the Prince or his family had snapped all of them up, both of -him and the lady, and destroyed them. There’s just the ship, two weeks -back.” -</p> - -<p> -Usk sprang up, as though to look at the picture, but when he was -stooping over the book he whispered hastily, “Perhaps you don’t know -that Prince Joseph was my aunt’s cousin?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I’m real sorry. How could I know?” Maimie whispered back, with a -face of guileless innocence touched with anguish. Aloud, she made some -remark about another picture on the same page, and Usk returned to his -former seat. As he did so, he was struck by a certain alert look, -which he knew well, on his uncle’s face. Félicia had turned her head -when Maimie claimed her attention, and the lamplight fell full upon -her profile, which was in a line with that of Queen Ernestine. Usk saw -the two faces from one side, his uncle from the other, but at the same -moment it flashed upon both of them that the profiles were -extraordinarily alike. Lord Cyril cast a glance of calm scrutiny at -his nephew, and resumed the conversation Maimie had interrupted. It -was possible that he regarded the likeness as merely a coincidence, -and Usk hoped this might be the case. -</p> - -<p> -It might have seemed to strengthen this opinion that Lord Cyril made -no remark to his nephew, but some hours later, when he looked into his -wife’s boudoir, where she was spending a few minutes in chat with the -sallow-faced lady-in-waiting, it was clear that he had not forgotten -what he had seen. -</p> - -<p> -“And what do you think of your niece that is to be, Ernestine?” he -asked. -</p> - -<p> -“She is very beautiful,” said the Queen, somewhat doubtfully, “but it -does not seem to me that poor Usk has found her heart yet.” -</p> - -<p> -“Perhaps she has none to find. What does Mlle. Mirkovics think?” -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Steinherz has something of the <i>grand air</i>, though there is a -want of repose in her manners,” was the temperate reply. “One would -scarcely expect that in an American, perhaps. But she carries herself -like a queen in her own right.” -</p> - -<p> -“Every American woman is that by right of birth,” said Lord Cyril -lazily. “Does Félicia’s face remind you of any one, Ernestine?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, you have noticed it, then? The likeness haunted me all evening, -until I happened to see her refusing to say good night to Usk. He had -offended her in some way, and she would only let him kiss her hand. -Then I saw a likeness to my aunt Claudine, who married the King of -Cantabria. It was not a happy marriage, you know, Cyril, and her -portrait has a look of haughty resignation about it—a kind of ‘scorn -of scorn.’ It is only in profile that there is a likeness, for none of -our family have that little rosebud mouth or those surprised eyebrows, -and Félicia is much prettier than my aunt ever was.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s a curious coincidence,” said Cyril, apparently dismissing the -subject as he left the room, but his mind was still busy with it. -“There are more coincidences in the affair than this one, if I am not -mistaken,” he said to himself. “There was that story which came out at -the inquest, that the girl’s father was murdered by mistake for the -Archduke Ferdinand Joachim. Come, this narrows it down. Weldart and -Hohenstaufen! King Paul of Cantabria married a Weldart, and his mother -was a Hohenstaufen. The girl shows no traces of Albret or Hohenstaufen -features—happily for herself—but the Weldart look is very distinct, -only fined and sharpened as European types so often are after a -generation or two in America. Clearly, then, the deceased ‘Mr -Steinherz’ was a son of Paul and Claudine. There were three of them. -Ramon is still alive, as I know only too well. Florian died young—in -somewhat discreditable circumstances, but he is indubitably dead. -There remains the lost Joseph, and here, I think, we must look for the -link. That shipwreck presents great possibilities. It looks a little -fishy that Prince Joseph and his fair musician—oh, and the maid too, -of course—should have contrived to escape when every one else on -board was drowned. Was there collusion somewhere? I don’t see how or -why the thing was worked. But perhaps they had trans-shipped before -the end came? That’s more likely, and makes the whole thing credible. -Well, Usk knows whatever there is to be known, and if I am at all -acquainted with him, will make a clean breast of the whole matter to -me at the earliest opportunity. Caerleon and Nadia know nothing, nor -does the girl herself. She is too self-conscious to be a good actress. -But the hanger-on—does she know? or was that artless discovery -another coincidence? She also has possibilities. She allowed herself -to be silenced by Usk, which she would hardly have done if she had -been the brainless innocent she was impersonating for the moment. I am -inclined to think she does know, and is keeping the thing dark for -some reason of her own. What that may be is not apparent for the -moment, but I think it is distinctly to the advantage of all concerned -that silence should still be kept. To-morrow I shall probably hear -what Usk thinks about it.” -</p> - -<p> -The confidence which Cyril anticipated he received the next morning, -when Usk and he were walking into Aberkerran. Queen Ernestine had -invited her sister-in-law and the two girls to assist at the unpacking -of a box of Eastern embroideries she had brought with her from her -Syrian home, and Usk seized the opportunity of obtaining a private -talk with his uncle, who had some telegrams to send off, and asking -his advice. He told his tale as briefly as possible, anxious to make -an end of a disagreeable task, and there were several points on which -Cyril was obliged to seek further information by means of questions. -When it was all clear in his mind, he walked on for a short time in -silence. -</p> - -<p> -“Is there anything you think I ought to do?” asked Usk at last. -</p> - -<p> -“Do? What can you do? You are absolutely debarred from enlightening -Félicia, as I understand, or even from informing any one else of the -circumstances. Obviously, then, the only thing that practically -concerns you is the marriage at St Mary Windicotes. That’s your -starting-point. I suppose you didn’t think of running down there to -look up the register before you went to America?” -</p> - -<p> -“No; I had no opportunity.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do it when you are next in town, and note especially whether there is -that slip of paper pasted on the inside of the cover, or not. It is -just possible that Steinherz <i>père</i> made up the whole story on the -strength of his likeness to the Archduke, though I allow that would -not account for Félicia’s profile. That marriage once established, -you are safe in England and America, at any rate, for people know -better than to inquire too curiously into the pedigree of heiresses -from the States. Of course it would not hold for a moment in Pannonia. -There you would have to take your stand on the quasi-ceremony which -Steinherz devised to spite his chaplain. If he had lived, it would -almost certainly have been annulled on an appeal to Rome by his -family, but as he was otherwise disposed of, no doubt they thought the -less fuss made the better. As it is, you see, the sole evidence for it -is the word of a dead man, for the other witnesses would know better -than to testify to it unless the Emperor directed them to open their -lips.” -</p> - -<p> -“But would it in any circumstance be valid?” -</p> - -<p> -“It is the kind of marriage that may be either valid or invalid at the -will of the families concerned. If it was to the advantage of the -Albrets to consider it an ordinary morganatic marriage, they would -condone Steinherz’s defiance, and probably induce the Emperor to -confer a title of nobility on Félicia. Or if there was something -really important at stake—for instance, if you took it into your head -to revive your father’s claim to Thracia, and made yourself -troublesome in the Balkans, and they found they must buy you off—they -might even be brought to recognise the marriage as fully valid and -regular, and declare Félicia a Princess of Arragon, just as a bribe -to you to stay at home. It has been done, notably about two hundred -years ago, in a case intimately connected with English history, but -naturally, the consideration would have to be a large one. And on the -other hand, if they see no advantage to them in the matter, they can -deny the Pannonian marriage, and refuse to recognise the English one, -and continue to give out officially that Prince Joseph was drowned off -the Australian coast, however forcibly it may be proved to them that -he wasn’t.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m glad to hear you say this, for I still feel sometimes as if I was -keeping Félicia out of something that was her due.” -</p> - -<p> -“You needn’t. By the bye, I suppose Hicks will come to England for -your wedding, about this trustee-business? I should like to go through -these proofs which he has in charge. If I am to be co-trustee, I must -know where we stand. But I don’t think you need be afraid the thing -will ever come out. You won’t haunt the Pannonian Court, I presume?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, indeed!” said Usk fervently. “England for me!” -</p> - -<p> -“If Félicia will allow it. Ah, that reminds me. Is the companion—the -Logan girl—supposed to know all this?” -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Logan? Certainly not. I don’t think anything would have induced -Mr Steinherz to tell her.” -</p> - -<p> -“Still, that is no bar to her having discovered the facts for herself. -I believe she knows, but I don’t quite see what use she means to make -of her knowledge. I could wish that King Michael was not coming here, -though. Is it necessary to warn you not to let Félicia see too much -of him?” -</p> - -<p> -“I wouldn’t spy upon her on any account.” -</p> - -<p> -“Quite unnecessary, if you stick to her as closely as you do now. No -one else could get a word with her. But it’s just possible she may get -a little tired of your constant vigilance.” -</p> - -<p> -“There’s no vigilance in the matter,” said Usk warmly; “it’s simply -that I like to be with her, of course. And if I didn’t think she liked -it as much as I do, I’d—I’d try to keep away from her a little.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t imagine that I am blaming you or assailing her. I think I have -mastered the art of letting people be miserable in their own way. If -you prefer to be unhappy with Miss Steinherz rather than without her, -far be it from me to interfere, even though your taste may surprise me -as much as my own wife’s does. I merely advise you to remember that -Michael has a truly royal eye for a pretty face, and that Félicia may -not know the exact value of compliments and asseverations from a man -in his position.” -</p> - -<p> -“What’s bringing him here?” growled Usk. -</p> - -<p> -“Pecuniary difficulties, of course. The last Drakovics Ministry left -the country plunged in debt, and old Mirkovics, who is as honest as -the day, but no financier, made no attempt to retrench. He thought -that anything spent on the army or on public works must be so much to -the good, while the King felt it his duty to look after the -beautifying of the capital and the formation of the public taste, and -between them they’ve called down the thunderbolt which used to hang -over our heads in the old days.” -</p> - -<p> -“You mean they’ve encroached upon the interest due on the Scythian -loan?” -</p> - -<p> -“Encroached? They haven’t paid any interest for three years. Of course -Scythia lay low and accepted their excuses with a pleased smile, and -equally, of course, she is demanding the arrears now.” -</p> - -<p> -“But what can they do?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Scythia is most willing to suggest terms—and conditions also. -One of the conditions is a Scythian marriage for Michael, and the -others would deliver Thracia over, bound hand and foot, to Scythian -influence. Pannonia and Hercynia are not much inclined to help, having -seen all their warnings disregarded, but they will hardly be able to -remain passive in view of such a complete surrender. The problem of -the moment is to secure their moral support without requiring them to -advance the corresponding cash, and King Michael is coming here in the -hope of solving it.” -</p> - -<p> -“I see. He has got himself into difficulties, and expects you to get -him out of them?” -</p> - -<p> -“Quite so. As soon as he found himself in this fix, he telegraphed to -request me to return and reorganise Thracia. It showed a touching -faith in me; and once, no doubt, I could have done what he expects of -me, but not now. All I can do is to go through his affairs, and give -him the advice of an ordinary business man—no brilliant strokes at -this time of day. I know he thinks I can raise the necessary money -among my Jewish friends by my personal influence, but they have -something else on hand.” -</p> - -<p> -“But do you mean,” cried Usk indignantly, “that King Michael insisted -on your coming back to Europe in spite of the risk, and that is why -you are here?” -</p> - -<p> -“You forget that he’s my wife’s son. It pleases his mother when he -turns to me for help, and I am glad to do what I can for him. But I -had other reasons for coming home. There is one of them.” He pointed -to two men, armed with fishing-rods and baskets, who passed at the -moment, saluting Usk with marked deference. -</p> - -<p> -“But those are the detectives who are down here to look after King -Michael,” said Usk. “The stout one comes from Scotland Yard, and is -sent by our Government, and the other, who belongs to some private -office, is employed by the Thracian Minister.” -</p> - -<p> -“He may belong to any number of private offices, but he is employed by -the Scythian Secret Police, and he is here to spy upon me.” -</p> - -<p> -“And my father has given him free leave to go anywhere he likes on our -land, and to fish, and so on, and he has taken up his quarters in the -village!” cried Usk, aghast. “But we’ll soon kick him out.” -</p> - -<p> -“I beg you won’t do anything of the kind. His presence here is a -testimony to my former importance, which I find very soothing. -Moreover, he is to be made useful. You saw those cipher telegrams I -sent off just now? They all have to do with a Zionist scheme for -making me Prince of Palestine, and while I am here I shall be -continually having letters and telegrams and even visitors, all -connected with the same thing.” -</p> - -<p> -“But this fellow will be spying about and spoil everything.” -</p> - -<p> -“He will see and report everything, for that is what he is meant to -do, but he will spoil nothing. The whole thing is a blind, intended -just to keep the spies busy, and the rank and file of the Children of -Zion quiet, for fear of their doing something rash. The real plot is a -very different matter. You may as well know the main idea. The United -Nation Syndicate has been reconstituted, but its object is to be -attained in a new way. So long as Scythia holds Jerusalem, the Jewish -ideal is necessarily incapable of realisation. She cannot be -dispossessed by force; can diplomacy do anything? Besides the Jews -there is another very powerful body whose interest it is to get her -out, and both these communities have fixed upon a certain person as -able to do it if any one can. No; I am not the happy man. My part is -merely to cover up his tracks.” -</p> - -<p> -“But the risk!” cried Usk. “Why should you run into danger for the -sake of this other man?” -</p> - -<p> -“To do old friends a good turn, I suppose. Or perhaps, now that I -can’t play the game myself, it’s the next best thing to see other -people doing it well. Have you guessed who the man is? It’s Malasorte, -the Neustrian Pretender. He is to be assisted to make himself emperor -at last.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I don’t see——How will that——?” Usk was unwontedly perturbed. -</p> - -<p> -“The Jesuits will arrange things for him at home, the Jews abroad. -Moral support and ready cash, the two indispensables again. In return -for their help, he has promised the Jews to turn Scythia out of -Palestine.” -</p> - -<p> -“And what has he promised the Jesuits?” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, that I don’t know, and there, it seems to me, is the weak point. -What if the Jesuits also want Jerusalem? If so, he may hand it over to -the Jews first, and then kick them out of it for the benefit of the -other lot. ‘<i>Mala sorte, buona fede</i>’ is the family motto, you know, -but no one ever thinks of quoting it except as ‘<i>Buona sorte, mala -fede</i>.’” -</p> - -<p> -“But why do the Jews and the Jesuits both think so much of him?” -</p> - -<p> -“He is a very unusual man, no one can doubt it. His enemies are fond -of asserting that he is not a genuine Malasorte, but his likeness to -Timoleon I. is enough to disprove that calumny. His father was in the -Scythian service, and married a Greek lady, descended, of course, from -the Byzantine Emperors. That gives him a great pull with the Orthodox, -and he is a personal friend of the Emperor of Scythia, who is very -much under his influence. He believes he can induce him to withdraw -his troops from Palestine, and Goldberg and the rest believe it too. -So he is to have his chance.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s awfully queer how things are mixed up,” said Usk. “Do you know -this chap wanted to marry Félicia?” -</p> - -<p> -“This same man—Timoleon Lucanor? Yes, I remember, he was military -attaché at Washington. And why didn’t he?” -</p> - -<p> -“Her father didn’t think his chances good enough, I fancy.” -</p> - -<p> -“No; I think the blood of the Albrets rose against the <i>parvenu</i>, even -then. But this is interesting, Usk. Could Malasorte have had any idea -of Mr Steinherz’s secret? No, of course not. He would not have allowed -himself to be choked off in that case. It was the money he was after, -and he missed what would have been better to him than millions. Did -Miss Logan approve of his suit, do you know?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes; Hicks said she pushed it all she knew.” -</p> - -<p> -“And yet she didn’t tell him? It’s pretty clear, then, that whatever -she knows she has learnt since. My dear Usk, you may thank your stars -that I am a wretched crack-brained failure, if you want to keep your -Félicia. There are the makings of a most tremendous plot lying -about—infinite possibilities—and I can’t see how to put them -together.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch08"> -CHAPTER VIII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">LOVE IN IDLENESS.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">The</span> arrival of Baron von Neuburg, otherwise King Michael of Thracia, -did not add to the gaiety of the circle at the Castle. Scarcely more -than a boy in years, his face was so curiously old that not only Usk -but his father looked young beside him, and his manner was weary -almost to the point of exhaustion. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t take much stock in kings generally,” Félicia remarked to Usk -after the new-comer had been presented to her; “but for the sake of -the rest I hope this one’s a bad sample.” -</p> - -<p> -“He’s not a particularly good specimen, certainly. Aren’t his ways -awfully riling?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes,” agreed Félicia; “that’s where the difference comes in between -him and your uncle. Lord Cyril is just elegant. He has dipped into -everything, and got pretty tired, but he don’t advertise the fact. The -Baron has done it too, and parades his weariness, and that’s rude.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m glad you don’t care for him,” said Usk honestly. “He’s not—not -the sort of fellow I should like to see you take to.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t you know that by saying that you’re just daring me to be as -sweet to him as I know how?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I know people say that sort of thing about women, but no nice -woman would go and make up to a man of bad character simply because -she was warned against him.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then I’m a nice woman? Well, I guess you’ll expect me do something -for you in return for that acknowledgment, and I’d admire to teach the -Baron a lesson.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not by way of breaking his heart, please.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not while you’re around, any way. But I’d like to have him know what -folks would think of him if he didn’t just happen to be a king.” -</p> - -<p> -It is possible that Félicia set to work with all the more gusto that -she was conscious of a personal injury at her introduction to the -King. To her mind his look had expressed no recognition of the fact -that he was being presented to a very beautiful woman. Maimie also had -noticed this insensibility, and she commented upon it to Félicia, -with a certain lack of tact. -</p> - -<p> -“You see, Fay, he can just tolerate having you around as the future -Lady Usk, but it’s quite beyond him to show any interest in an -untitled American girl. She’s way down under his feet in the mud -somewhere.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I guess it’ll maybe interest him to know what the American girl -thinks about him.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t see how you’re going to have him feel it, any way. Say, Fay, -Usk is real devoted, isn’t he? I’m glad you’ve taken him instead of -the King now I’ve seen him, don’t you think! He’s solid good right -through. He won’t ever have you find out anything new and unpleasant -about him. Every day of his life he’ll come to meet you mornings with -a flower, just as his father does to Lady Caerleon, and he’ll like -nothing better evenings than sit alone with you and read the ‘Times’ -out loud.” -</p> - -<p> -“Guess I’ll fix things differently to that.” -</p> - -<p> -“You’d better not. His way will save you a pretty good deal of -trouble. He’ll like you to be the same all the time, just as he is. -And so’s you’re just decently civil to him, he’ll never be ugly. It’s -only with a man like the Baron you need to be smart, for you lose him -if he’s away out of your sight a moment.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I incline to think the Baron will need to be smart this next -week.” -</p> - -<p> -In all probability the Baron was of the same opinion before the week -was over. He had come prepared to take the lead in the general -conversation, even if he did not monopolise it, and nothing was -further from his thoughts than that this little nobody of an American, -whom the Caerleons had managed to pick up for Usk on account of her -money, should take it upon herself to dispute his right. Young as he -was, King Michael had already ruled so long that it seemed to him only -natural to be the autocrat of any table at which he sat, and it was -whispered that his meetings with other monarchs were few and far -between, and also extremely short, by reason of this genial habit of -mind. It was a tremendous shock to find himself called upon for -explanations, laughed at for his choice of words, even contradicted, -and all by a radiant being who flashed provoking glances at him from -magnificent eyes, and having annihilated him, turned with irritating -nonchalance to engage Usk in a low-toned conversation punctuated with -soft looks. -</p> - -<p> -To Usk himself these favours, thus publicly conferred, were the -reverse of delightful. His hospitable soul was wounded by the -treatment meted out to the guest, and he could not help feeling that -it was bad form in Félicia to emphasise his own happier position at -every opportunity. When he ventured to remonstrate, however, his only -reward was a severe snubbing in private, for Félicia was not to be -turned from her prey. Lord Cyril, to whom Lady Caerleon appealed in -distress, laughed at the whole thing, and declared that Félicia’s -scorn was the best possible tonic for his stepson. To have met her -would be a liberal education for him, provided she continued the -treatment to the end of his visit, and did not soften towards him for -a moment. But there was no need for her to do this. It was enough for -King Michael to notice the difference in her manner when she turned to -Usk. When a rarely beautiful woman treats one man to nothing but -gibes, and lavishes tenderness upon another who looks rather -uncomfortable under the process, it is not in human nature not to wish -to be in the other man’s place for once. -</p> - -<p> -Maimie had been watching eagerly for the King to reach this point, but -here she found herself at a standstill. All this time she had been -cultivating the acquaintance of the aide-de-camp, Captain Andreivics, -who had accompanied King Michael, and was introduced as his “friend.” -She had picked his brains to such good purpose that she knew as much -as he did of the King’s circumstances, and had gone far beyond him in -the deductions she drew. He could not tell her exactly how the long -hours were spent when the King and his stepfather were closeted every -morning with vast piles of papers, but she knew. She could picture -Cyril exposing pitilessly the extravagance, laxity, and corruption -which had spread through every department of State since he had left -Thracia, and indicating reforms and economies which would put matters -straight if the present crisis could be tided over, but performing no -miracle to provide the money urgently needed at the moment. It was -from the aide-de-camp, however, that she heard how one morning the -King dashed away the papers with the pettish remark, “Really, Count, -your brain seems as strong as ever for all these absurd trivialities. -Why is it that you refuse to return to Thracia and get me out of my -difficulty?” and how the incisive answer flashed forth, “If my brain -was as strong as ever, sir, I should not be busy with these -trivialities. I should be holding the balance of power in Europe.” She -knew that both Cyril and the King had reluctantly come to the -conclusion that, failing the much-needed miracle, there was only one -thing to be done. The King must journey homewards by way of the -Riviera, where the Scythian Princess who had been proposed for his -acceptance was sojourning. There was a bare hope that his apparent -intention of falling in with the arrangement suggested by Scythia -might alarm his Pannonian and Hercynian relations into some attempt to -prevent the threatened surrender. -</p> - -<p> -Maimie ground her teeth, metaphorically speaking, over this deadlock. -There were Félicia’s millions, far more than sufficient to fill the -yawning gulf, for the sum which could bring a Balkan State to -bankruptcy was trivial in American eyes, and no one seemed to have -thought of making use of them. The King, however much he might admire -the girl of whose beauty he had at last become conscious, had not the -slightest thought of marrying her, and Cyril would take no step to -utilise those convenient millions, even if they ever occurred to him, -because Félicia happened to be engaged to Usk. Maimie felt that she -had no patience with Usk, who to the injury of existing added insult -by hanging about Félicia so perpetually that the King had no -opportunity of getting up a flirtation with her even if he desired it. -If Usk would only run up to town for a day or two! but he remained in -Félicia’s near neighbourhood as persistently as if he had known of -Maimie’s designs and meant to thwart them. Captain Andreivics it was -who returned to London two days before the time fixed for the King’s -departure, and with no better excuse than the stereotyped one of -“urgent business,” so that Maimie lost her cavalier. -</p> - -<p> -At last, just when Maimie was gloomily revolving in her mind various -desperate expedients for removing Usk from Félicia’s side, the motive -force required was suddenly imparted from without. It came in the form -of a letter from Mr Forfar, the Prime Minister, to Lord Caerleon, -asking whether Usk was still thinking of entering Parliament. If so, -he could do a great service to the party (to which the Marquis had -always lent a loyal, if discriminating support, since his own entry on -public life), by allowing himself to be adopted as the future -candidate for a great Northern constituency. The sitting member was -old and feeble, but had stoutly refused to tolerate the mention of a -successor until recently, when a severe illness had given him a -fright. He was now willing to allow a suitable “under-study” to be -introduced to the party managers and make himself known in the -constituency; and as the supporters of the Temperance cause were well -organised and powerful, what more suitable candidate could be found -than the son of the life-long Temperance champion? Neither Usk nor his -father hesitated a moment in accepting the offer. The great banquet, -at which Sir James Morrell had reluctantly undertaken to present his -successor to the association which had so often shared with him the -sweets of victory, was to take place two nights after the arrival of -Mr Forfar’s letter, and there was no time to be lost. Usk dashed -upstairs in high excitement to pack his bag, while his father went -round to the stables himself to order the dogcart, and Lady Caerleon -interviewed the cook on the subject of sandwiches. It never entered -Usk’s mind that any one could dream he would let slip this -long-desired opportunity, and he sent an eager message by Maimie -begging Félicia, who was breakfasting in her own room, to drive to -the station with him. When he came downstairs with his bag, however, -he found her still in her “wrapper,” as she called the frilled and -beribboned garment which Lady Caerleon always felt ought not to make -its appearance outside a bedroom. Maimie had insisted on her getting -up when she brought Usk’s message, and she was obliged to make a very -hasty toilet, much to her disgust. She did not appear to suitable -advantage, she felt, unless Pringle’s skilful fingers had proper time -for their work. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, Fay, aren’t you coming, then?” cried Usk, when he saw her. -</p> - -<p> -“I guess not,” responded Félicia laconically. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, you’ll wish me joy, won’t you? This is the beginning, you -know.” -</p> - -<p> -“Of what? The beginning of the end?” -</p> - -<p> -“What do you mean?” Usk was too happy and too much excited to make any -attempt to understand. “Why, it’s my chance at last—what we’ve talked -of so often.” -</p> - -<p> -“You have,” corrected Félicia. Then a transient gleam of brightness -showed itself. “Canvassing, do you mean? Then I suppose we are all to -trail you along?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh no, that would be a little previous,” laughed Usk. “I’m only going -to be introduced to the party. There’s no election on at present.” -</p> - -<p> -“I want to know! You’re leaving me this way just for an ordinary -ward-meeting? and you don’t so much as ask me whether I choose to have -you go?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why in the world should I think you’d mind? I thought you would be -delighted. Why, Fay!” in utter amazement, for Félicia was weeping -delicately into a lace handkerchief. -</p> - -<p> -“You said you loved me, and now you’re having the -Baron—everybody—see how little you care for me. You just haven’t the -very slightest consideration for my feelings!” -</p> - -<p> -Dismayed and astounded, but still utterly puzzled as to the nature of -his offence, Usk knelt down hastily by her chair, and alternately -entreated her forgiveness and adjured her to tell him what he had -done. With him it was a matter of course that the women of a household -should send forth their men to the chances of war or politics with a -brave face and words of cheer, and he could not conceive Félicia’s -feeling hurt at not being consulted. He did not know that Maimie’s -triumphant “Now you see just how much he thinks about you!” was -rankling in her mind, and that she had set her heart on proving her -power over him. When she consented at last to remove the handkerchief -from her eyes, it was merely to intimate that he might consider -himself forgiven if he did not go. Usk sprang to his feet. -</p> - -<p> -“And lose this chance—give Forfar a slap in the face?” he cried in -astonishment. “Why, Fay, you must be mad! You’re joking, aren’t you? -You couldn’t possibly mean it.” -</p> - -<p> -“I guess I mean exactly what I say. You’re telling me all the time how -much you love me, but I can’t just seem to realise it.” -</p> - -<p> -“You mean that you ask me in cold blood to give up this chance, -disappoint my people, offend Forfar, just because—why, it’s for no -reason at all!” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t ask you anything,” said Félicia, rising regally, and -throwing him a glance over her shoulder. “I just tell you to do it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, then, I won’t,” returned Usk, with equal candour; but as she -swept towards the door he intercepted her, breaking into a laugh, -“Why, Fay, for the moment I thought you meant it. What a gorgeous -scene we have been making over nothing at all! Now you don’t leave -this room until you say you’re sorry, and signify the same in the -usual manner. There! I’m getting quite a public speaker already.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s a pity if your future audiences don’t appreciate you better than -the present one,” said Félicia coldly. “Kindly allow me pass. If you -don’t choose to consult my wishes—well, you’re not the only man in -the world, any way.” -</p> - -<p> -“Now it would serve you right if I kept you here until you gave in,” -said Usk, “but I hear my father tramping up and down in furious -anxiety about the train. I’ll settle this little matter with you when -I come back, but any token of penitence in the shape of a letter will -receive due consideration. And—just that you mayn’t make yourself -miserable thinking I’m angry with you—there! and there! and as many -more assurances of pardon as you like.” -</p> - -<p> -He ran along the corridor, still laughing, and Félicia returned -angrily to her own room. It was the laughter that annoyed her. Even if -Usk had refused to yield, he ought to have taken her objection -seriously. He was so sure of her that he thought he could afford to -laugh at her, was he? Very well; it might be advisable to show him -that he need not be quite so sure. -</p> - -<p> -Maimie, in the meantime, had been taking advantage of the change in -the situation. After giving Usk’s message to Félicia, she wandered -down to the second of the terraces before the Castle, where King -Michael was wont to smoke his after-breakfast cigar. It was his custom -to breakfast in his own rooms, and Maimie felt comfortably certain -that Usk would not have thought of hunting for him in the garden in -order to bid him farewell. When she caught sight of him, he was -walking up and down somewhat listlessly, as though he missed the -companionship of Captain Andreivics, but she saw a change pass over -his face when he heard the tap of her heels on the terrace above. As -she came down the steps, she could see him before he saw her, and it -gave her a keen delight to see his look of disappointment when he met -her at the foot. -</p> - -<p> -“Good morning, Baron!” she remarked cheerfully. “Say, we shall be left -awfully lonely to-night, shan’t we—what with the Captain leaving -yesterday, and Lord Usk this morning, and you this evening, I -suppose?” -</p> - -<p> -“I leave to-morrow,” said the King, looking at her with cold surprise. -</p> - -<p> -“No, is that so? I guess Lord Usk don’t know it, rushing off the way -he has. He would never leave Félicia unguarded a whole day.” -</p> - -<p> -“Is Miss Steinherz supposed to be in danger from me?” -</p> - -<p> -Maimie laughed mischievously. “You know your own reputation best, -Baron. I don’t see but Lord Usk thought it wasn’t enough to warn -Félicia against you, the way he has mounted guard over her.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, our friend Usk felt it necessary to warn his bride against me, -did he? I think that was not playing the game, as they say here.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I guess I oughtn’t to have given him away. He knows his way -about, I suppose, and—yes, it was just as well he did it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Why? Has it produced the opposite effect, as usual, and induced the -young lady to honour me with her friendly interest?” -</p> - -<p> -Maimie gave him a glance of compassion. “What good would there be in -that?” she asked curtly. “No; it just showed Félicia what he expected -of her, so’s she concluded to satisfy him at any cost to herself.” -</p> - -<p> -A light seemed to break upon the King. “What! you mean that all this -raillery, all the contempt she has poured upon me for a whole week, -was nothing but an effort to please her bridegroom?” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t you try and have me say that Félicia’s an angel,” Maimie -admonished him. “I won’t tell you her secrets, any way. And I don’t -see but you’ll have to stay till to-morrow as you’ve fixed it so; but -I wish you were leaving sooner.” -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Logan’s interest in my movements does me too much honour. -Perhaps it will gratify her to know that it is possible I may not even -be leaving to-morrow.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, I thought that ‘urgent business’ of the Captain’s covered more -folks’ affairs than his own. You mean he’ll be coming down with more -documents for you to study with Lord Cyril?” -</p> - -<p> -“I had not meant that——” the King was beginning, but as he caught -the merest hint of scorn in Maimie’s eye, his face assumed an -expression of deep importance. “It is extremely probable. What is the -good of an aide-de-camp but to make himself useful?” -</p> - -<p> -“An aide-de-camp—do tell!” cried Maimie. “And you’ve called him your -friend all the time! Why, you must be a general, then! Say, General, -they promote people pretty young in your country, don’t they?” -</p> - -<p> -“Mademoiselle,” said the King severely, “with a young lady who has -contrived to discover so much of my private affairs, it is surely -unnecessary to keep up this wearisome farce?” -</p> - -<p> -“M. le Baron,” said Maimie, making him a curtsey, “the farce was of -your own providing. If you choose to throw up your part it can’t hurt -me, any way.” -</p> - -<p> -“You imply that there is another act, if I care to play it?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t imply anything. I’m not taking any risks, if you are.” -</p> - -<p> -“So be it. I take the risk. Andreivics shall arrive from London with -important documents. Accept my compliments, mademoiselle. I sent him -away because I wished to feel that a few of my secrets still remained -in my own possession. You have secured his return by means of a -diplomacy which my good stepfather in his best days might have -envied.” -</p> - -<p> -Maimie looked him over with a slow gaze of infinite scorn. “I guess,” -she said calmly, “that you’re sort of acclimatised to being despised? -You seem to lay yourself out for it so naturally. Usk was pretty wise -in warning Félicia against you, and she was doing the best for -herself when she chilled you off. What she can see in you——” -</p> - -<p> -“Permit me to observe that you are revealing an interesting secret, -mademoiselle,” said the King malignantly. “After what you have said it -would be ungallant in me not to remain here. I telegraph to Andreivics -this morning.” -</p> - -<p> -“Now we begin to be moving!” said Maimie to herself, as she left him -in speechless contempt. “He don’t even see that I’m having him go the -very way I want him. And now for Fay.” -</p> - -<p> -She found that Félicia, having worked herself up into a high state of -resentment against Usk, had determined to punish him by entering upon -a flirtation with the King. Maimie shook her head when Félicia -declared her intentions. -</p> - -<p> -“I wouldn’t, Fay,” she said. “You’ve done elegantly this far, the way -you’ve frozen him off. You’ll only get all of your affairs into a -snarl. And what’s more, I don’t believe he’s to be had. He knows just -how to take care of himself, and I can’t seem to see you making any -sort of impression on him.” -</p> - -<p> -This was all that was needed to put Félicia on her mettle. -</p> - -<p> -“Maimie Logan,” she said decisively, “did you ever know any man that -could take care of himself when I was around? I guess Usk will be -sorry that he went off this way.” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, what do you mean doing?” Maimie’s tone was full of alarm. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, just make things uncomfortable a little—nothing more.” -</p> - -<p> -“But if Usk will just stay away four or five days, there’ll be a good -deal more,” was Maimie’s mental comment. -</p> - -<p> -<br/> -</p> - -<p> -“Michael,” said Queen Ernestine to her son four days later, when she -had succeeded after many vain attempts in finding him alone, “don’t -you think you are paying rather too much attention to Miss Steinherz?” -</p> - -<p> -She spoke timidly, anticipating the black frown which gathered at once -upon King Michael’s brow, as he bestowed a mental curse upon -Félicia’s methods. It was not in her nature to be content with a -secret adoration. The King might waylay her in the garden if he chose, -or look for her in her favourite nook in the picture-gallery, and -enjoy her society until Maimie, posted judiciously near at hand, felt -it her duty to interrupt them, but he must not attempt to hide his -chains in public. Hence King Michael’s relations had the pleasure of -seeing him dancing attendance upon the whims of a languid beauty, who -had vouchsafed to lay aside much of her sharpness of tongue, but still -betrayed no delight in his attentions. Even Usk could not have desired -more absolute unconsciousness of her conquest than Félicia exhibited. -</p> - -<p> -“Have you ever known me forget my position?” King Michael asked at -last, when his mother’s face had grown more and more anxious. -</p> - -<p> -“Never,” she answered, recalling many memories at once humorous and -pathetic. -</p> - -<p> -“Then rest assured that I never shall.” -</p> - -<p> -“But, dear,” urged the Queen, “in that case would it not be as well to -return to London? It looks—mind, I only say it looks—as if you were -taking advantage of Usk’s prolonged absence to rob him of his bride’s -affections, and you would not wish to do that.” -</p> - -<p> -“Count Mortimer has already given me a pretty strong hint to go, but I -will not leave my work undone.” -</p> - -<p> -“But he told me to-day that it was all finished.” -</p> - -<p> -“On the contrary, it is only half-done,” was the reply, with an -enigmatical smile. “Who would have thought I should become so deeply -interested in a matter entered upon so lightly?” -</p> - -<p> -“So lightly—when the future of your kingdom and your own happiness -may depend upon the arrangements you are able to make?” cried the -Queen, in surprise. “You don’t take things seriously enough, Michael.” -</p> - -<p> -“Possibly not, but sometimes things take me seriously, quite against -my will.” -</p> - -<p class="spacer"> -* * * * * * * * -</p> - -<p> -“I would just love to hustle some folks a little!” Maimie was -reflecting, much about the same time. “Usk will arrive home in a day -or two, and I’d like to have things fixed. I never thought the Baron -would have so much grit in him, but the way he fights off a definite -declaration is real fine. But Fay is even with him there. What with -his precious kingdom, and her engagement, they can’t seem to get on at -all. And until they do, I can’t step in as fairy godmother to put -things straight.” -</p> - -<p> -While the thought was still in her mind, the door opened violently, -and Félicia ran in. Flinging herself upon the sofa, she began to cry, -not weeping in the artistic way which had damped Usk’s departure, but -shedding genuine tears of disappointment and mortification. -</p> - -<p> -“I’ll never forgive you!” she sobbed out to Maimie. “This is the -second time you’ve put me in just the most horrid sort of a position. -You had me encourage the Malasorte man until he cooled off of his own -accord, and now the King has told me in so many words that he can’t -ask me to marry him—after having me say I cared for him. I wouldn’t -mind so much but for that.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, you can marry Usk yet,” was the unsympathetic reply. -</p> - -<p> -“After expecting to be a queen!” fresh sobs followed “He spoke so’s I -really concluded it was all safe. And you sit there and say nothing. I -hate you!” -</p> - -<p> -“Why?” asked Maimie calmly. -</p> - -<p> -“How can I help it when you’re so mean and ugly? You told me you could -fix things, and I thought you had fixed them right away. And then you -have all of this happen!” -</p> - -<p> -“Now look here, Fay,” Maimie grasped her shoulder. “If I operate my -scheme right now, will you promise to give up Usk and marry the King? -I won’t go a step without knowing that.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t feel like giving him up until you have got things fixed. If -they should chance to go wrong, I would just find myself left.” -</p> - -<p> -“It may be some time before they go right, I grant that, but you must -take some risks. Well, if I let you stay engaged to Usk for the -present, will you break off with him when I give the word?” -</p> - -<p> -“Ye-es, but you’ll have to be quite sure about it.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’ll see to that. Where did you leave the King?” -</p> - -<p> -“On the second terrace. He was real sorry to have to say what he did, -but I was so mad I wouldn’t stop,” said Félicia, with a curious kind -of self-satisfaction. -</p> - -<p> -“It must be real nice to be able to love folks according to what they -can give you!” soliloquised Maimie, as she went in search of the King. -“She would accept Usk when there was no other man in view, but now the -Baron holds the winning cards—unless there should be any fascinating -emperors around before we get things fixed. But here’s the lucky man!” -</p> - -<p> -King Michael was walking from end to end of the terrace, smoking -moodily. His hands were thrust deep into his pockets, and the blackest -possible frown was on his brow. He was hard hit, Maimie saw, and -scarcely likely to welcome the appearance of the person to whom he -might consider that he owed his present unhappy frame of mind, but she -met him boldly. -</p> - -<p> -“Say, Baron,” she said, placing herself in his path, “is it true -you’ve told my Félicia you love her, but can’t marry her?” -</p> - -<p> -“It is, mademoiselle. If you have chosen this terrace as a promenade, -I will go elsewhere.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, if I was a king, I guess I’d marry the woman I loved.” -</p> - -<p> -“Pardon me, I am not only a king. I am a son of the house of -Schwarzwald-Molzau, and we do not mingle the blood of Charlemagne with -that of—manufacturers.” -</p> - -<p> -“And so you sigh as a lover and obey as a son? But you wanted to marry -Lord Usk’s sister once, I know, for Mr Hicks told me.” -</p> - -<p> -The King’s eyes flashed gloomily. “I do not understand this -catechism,” he said angrily. “It is intolerable! The Mortimer blood is -equal to that of any semi-royal house in Europe, and there were -special reasons why a marriage with Lady Philippa would have been very -pleasing to my subjects.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I guess a marriage with a Princess of Arragon would about -satisfy them, any way.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not if she were a Catholic.” -</p> - -<p> -“Is that so? Well, the girl you have just told that you love her and -can’t marry her is a Princess of Arragon and a Protestant.” -</p> - -<p> -“Impossible. I know the Prince of Arragon’s three daughters well, and -Don Florian’s only daughter is married to another cousin of mine.” -</p> - -<p> -“You are forgetting. There was a third brother.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don José? But he was not married. Oh, I remember there was some talk -of a morganatic marriage. But that is not to the purpose.” -</p> - -<p> -“Excuse me, but I guess it’s very much to the purpose.” -</p> - -<p> -“Allow me to say that you do not know how these things are -regarded—how I regard them, necessarily.” -</p> - -<p> -“But suppose the marriage was recognised? Wait, I’ll tell you about -it,” and she ran through the circumstances hastily. “If the marriage -was good enough for the Arragon family to accept Félicia as one of -themselves, I guess it would be good enough for you?” -</p> - -<p> -“Undoubtedly; but I do not see the faintest likelihood that the House -of Albret would recognise the marriage.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s where your help would be wanted. I’d like you to lay the whole -thing before Lord Cyril to-day, and have him operate it.” -</p> - -<p> -But the King started back, aghast. “My dear Miss Logan, do you not see -that it would be fatal—suicidal—for me to appear in the matter? -Count Mortimer has his nephew’s interests to consider.” -</p> - -<p> -“That is so; we mustn’t go ahead too fast,” said Maimie. “Then you -incline to think Félicia and I may fight all of the battle for -ourselves?” -</p> - -<p> -“Quite so. There can be no objection to your consulting Count -Mortimer, purely on her behalf, you know; and if by any chance your -efforts should be crowned with success, why—you have given me hope—I -am happy again!” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh no, you aren’t—not yet. We shall want your help any way. I know -well enough there’s no hope of having Félicia’s family recognise her -unless some one puts pressure on them. Are you ready to intimate at -the critical moment that you are real keen on marrying her, if they -can fix things right?” -</p> - -<p> -“That would be highly injudicious. I think I had better not -appear——” -</p> - -<p> -“As you please. You throw up your cards, then, and Félicia will just -marry Usk.” -</p> - -<p> -“You place me in a most difficult position, but rather than lose -Félicia——” -</p> - -<p> -“I thought so. Then you would better go way back to the Riviera right -now, and make a little gentle love to the Grand-Duchess Sonya, just to -keep your folks sort of interested, you know. I’ll let you hear when -you’re wanted.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch09"> -CHAPTER IX.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">A CHANGE OF VENUE.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -“<span class="sc">Why</span>, Uncle Cyril! how awfully good of you to come and meet me!” Yet -Usk’s eyes strayed to the dogcart waiting in the road just beyond the -station fence, and the stolid groom in charge of it. “Is—is any one -else here?” -</p> - -<p> -“No; Félicia is not here. What do you think of putting your bag into -the cart, and walking up?” -</p> - -<p> -“All right. I shall be glad to stretch my legs. Félicia isn’t ill, is -she?” -</p> - -<p> -“I saw no signs of it when I started. But why should you expect her to -meet you? I understood you and she had quarrelled?” -</p> - -<p> -“Quarrelled? Why, it was nothing—the most utter nonsense! She never -wrote me a word for four whole days, though. But I wrote to her every -day, and at last, on the fifth evening, I had a letter from her—an -awfully jolly letter, but making the most tremendous fuss about the -way she had behaved, calling herself names, and all sorts of things. -It seemed so uncalled-for that I really thought she must be going to -be ill, for she’s not a bit morbid generally, is she?” -</p> - -<p> -“Few people less so, I should think. The letter reached you five days -after you left here, you say. It was written the day before, of -course?” -</p> - -<p> -“The evening before. I know she said she was writing when the house -was quiet. But I’m awfully glad she’s all right. She’s so unexpected, -isn’t she? You never can tell what she’ll do next.” -</p> - -<p> -“I used to notice the same thing about my wife in the early days of -our acquaintance. There is a peculiar charm about that unexpectedness -when it is introduced into politics. It quite prevents any feeling of -flatness.” -</p> - -<p> -“Now one would have imagined”—Usk was still pursuing his own train of -thought—“that she would have come to meet me after that letter.” -</p> - -<p> -“The unexpected again, you see.” -</p> - -<p> -“But how did you know anything about our——? Well, it wasn’t a -quarrel——” -</p> - -<p> -“The suspension of friendly relations? I inferred it from what I saw -after you were gone.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you spoke to Félicia? Very kind of you, I’m sure, but—well, you -know——” -</p> - -<p> -“You prefer to conduct your own love affairs? Quite so. Make your mind -easy; I did not speak to Félicia. But if I remember rightly, I did -send you in your mother’s letter a strong hint not to stay away more -than the two days you intended at first.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, I know, but you said ‘unless it will damage your chances,’ and -it would have done, horribly. You see, it was such a piece of good -luck old Morrell’s taking to me so tremendously, when he had hated the -very mention of a successor before, that I couldn’t go and hurt his -feelings. He would drag me round the constituency, and hunt up all the -local organisers to introduce me to them, and we really covered an -immense amount of ground. The party agent said I couldn’t have made a -better start.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t think I want to see you less keen. It isn’t that. Did Félicia -tell you any news in her letter—anything that had happened?” -</p> - -<p> -“No; there was nothing of that sort. But really, Uncle Cyril, I don’t -think she was angry with me for staying away. I wrote her awfully long -letters—and sent her things, too. She couldn’t think I had forgotten -her.” -</p> - -<p> -“I never thought she did. But did she express regret for anything in -particular, or merely for her general treatment of you? I have an -object in asking,” as Usk looked at him in surprise. “Don’t think it’s -mere curiosity.” -</p> - -<p> -“She didn’t mention anything definite—except just to say that if -things went wrong between us, it was Maimie Logan’s fault, not hers, -which I could have told her myself. Oh, by the bye, that’s another -queer thing. I had an hour or two to spare in town, so I ran down to -Bradcross and looked up Mr and Mrs Steinherz’s marriage at St Mary -Windicotes. It was there all right, but the queer thing is that some -months ago a lady came and asked about it, and got a copy of the -entry, and I’m pretty sure it was Miss Logan.” -</p> - -<p> -“Exactly what I thought. How did you find out?” -</p> - -<p> -“There was the paper pasted on the inside of the cover, just as Mr -Steinherz said, and I tried one of the corners with my nail to see if -it was loose. Then the clerk’s wife, who had been in a great state of -excitement ever since she heard what entry I wanted to see, cried out, -‘Why, that’s just what the lady did as come here in the autumn!’ When -I said, ‘What lady?’ she nearly had a fit, and refused point-blank to -tell me anything, saying she wished she had bitten her tongue off -before the words slipped out. I tried the usual persuasive, and -assured her that I had the strongest possible reasons for wishing good -and not harm to Mr and Mrs Bertram, as she called them, and their -descendants, and at last I got it out of her that the lady was not -old, and not very young, not a regular foreigner, but not quite -English, and dressed very smartly,—‘fine enough for a carriage,’ the -old woman said, which is just what every one here says about these two -girls whenever they go out walking. Then she told me what her voice -was like, and I couldn’t doubt for a moment that it was Miss Logan.” -</p> - -<p> -“This is most interesting. When did you say it happened?” -</p> - -<p> -“About six months ago, as far as I could make out. Either just before -or just after Mr Steinherz’s death, I should think.” -</p> - -<p> -“When she was in London, of course. Well, I am glad to have this -cleared up. She told me a lame story of having been put on the track -by some writing in an old prayer-book belonging to her mother, and -said she had pieced together into a coherent whole things remembered -from childhood and details picked up since.” -</p> - -<p> -“She told you!” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes; that is the piece of news I wondered whether you had heard. She -knows the whole story, and has confided it to Félicia, and Félicia -will be satisfied with nothing short of full rights and recognition. -The story, as she told it, was less detailed than what I had heard -from you, but it corresponded with it so exactly that I felt certain -she could not have developed it in the way she made out. After this -discovery of yours, I haven’t a doubt that she was listening, either -when Mr Steinherz explained things to you, or when he made Hicks -Félicia’s trustee—no, scarcely that, unless he read aloud to him the -attested statement which was to be left in his charge. Well, we can’t -prove it against her, but that’s the truth, I feel certain.” -</p> - -<p> -“And Félicia knows—the whole thing?” -</p> - -<p> -“The whole thing. Now, Usk, I am going to depart for once from my -invariable rule, and give you a piece of good advice. There are two -ways in which you can take this. Either you could throw yourself into -Félicia’s view of the matter, and do everything in your power to help -her press her claim—which is never likely to be established. Do you -feel yourself debarred from such a course as that?” -</p> - -<p> -“Absolutely, by my repeated promise to Mr Steinherz.” -</p> - -<p> -“I thought so. Then here’s the alternative. Forbid Félicia to take -any step in the matter. Let her understand that if she does, -everything is over between you. Give her the choice. Otherwise, -whether she wins or loses, you will infallibly drift apart, for no -woman will stand seeing a man indifferent or opposed to an aim which -is the breath of life to her. If she cares for you enough to give it -up for your sake, it’s a different thing.” -</p> - -<p> -“I couldn’t ask it of her,” said Usk. “In one way, it’s almost a -relief that this has come out. I have always felt as if I was -defrauding her, somehow.” -</p> - -<p> -“Usk,” said his uncle, “there’s a good deal of your mother in you, and -that makes it perfectly hopeless to offer you any guidance. One could -generally get Caerleon to see reason, after a tremendous amount of -hammering, but nothing but fanaticism would move your mother—in her -young days, of course. Well, I don’t envy you the next few months. I -have cabled to Hicks to let me know the exact nature of the proofs he -holds, and also whether the trustees are debarred like you from -asserting any claim on Félicia’s behalf. It was necessary to find -that out, though those two girls were so impatient of delay that they -were ready to set out for Vindobona there and then, and press the -claim in person. I had to point out to them that Félicia would do -well to remain as far from Pannonia as possible for the present. There -are various approved ways of disposing of inconvenient young ladies -who persist in raking up forgotten scandals, especially when there are -a good many millions in question as well.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes. She is safest here, if she is resolved to go on. But what I -can’t make out is why Miss Logan should have been silent so long, if -she knew everything six months ago.” -</p> - -<p> -“I can’t be certain, but I have my suspicions that my hopeful stepson -comes in somewhere. That’s why I should be glad to see you put your -foot down, and end the matter one way or the other.” -</p> - -<p> -“You mean that he and Miss Logan are plotting that he shall marry -Félicia if the claim is allowed? Rather fine from their point of -view, wouldn’t it be? But they are reckoning without Félicia.” -</p> - -<p> -“Where did you get your wide knowledge of women?” asked Cyril, with -intense interest. Usk answered quite unsuspiciously— -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t know many, but I know Félicia.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you won’t even attempt to dissuade her from pressing the claim?” -</p> - -<p> -“I mean to tell her how anxious her father was that she should let -things alone, but I can’t help it if she decides not to. It’s her own -concern, and she has a right to judge for herself.” -</p> - -<p> -It would have been well if Félicia had also been able to adopt this -moderate view, and to concede to Usk the right of judging for himself. -But she demanded not merely his passive permission, but his active -approval, for all that she saw fit to do, and as he was not disposed -to go a step beyond the line he had laid down, the relations between -them became somewhat strained. The two lived in an atmosphere of -argument. Even the low-toned conversations in the drawing-room at -night were devoted to persistent efforts to make Usk confess that -Félicia was in the right, and that her success was certain. He kept -his temper admirably on the whole, but this led only to further -attacks, for Félicia could not believe he was in earnest. She lost -her temper somewhat frequently, but Usk understood that this was due -to “nerves.” -</p> - -<p> -“I guess I know why you’d like to have me let things slide,” she said -angrily one morning on the terrace. “You’re thinking of the dollars.” -</p> - -<p> -“The dollars! What dollars?” asked Usk. -</p> - -<p> -“Mine, of course. Pappa’s pile, which was to procure me the honour of -admission into your noble family.” -</p> - -<p> -“Are you trying to see what I’m like when I’m ‘riz,’ as Hicks says?” -asked Usk laughing. “Why, Fay, he would tell you that it was the -thought of your dollars that frightened me more than anything—kept me -back for ever so long.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then what was it made you conclude to go ahead at last?” -</p> - -<p> -“Look in the glass,” said Usk, and Félicia was mollified. -</p> - -<p> -“I’m real glad I have the dollars, any way,” she said, slipping her -hand into his arm. “This place wants making over from cellar to -garret.” -</p> - -<p> -“Does it? I suppose it seems so to other people, but it’s perfect to -us. By the bye, Fay, you hurt old Wright’s feelings terribly the other -day by depreciating his stables.” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, I only said I’d have those old shacks pulled down, and a real -elegant range of stabling built—just like at Bagatelle.” -</p> - -<p> -“One may like good horses, and drive them too, without making palaces -of their stables. Ours are all right.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I’ll never be satisfied until they’re just as good as those at -Bagatelle, with all sorts of cunning little notions around everywhere. -Why, even Baron von Neuburg had heard of the Bagatelle stables, and we -made an excursion over there for the day, so’s he might see them. But -there’s just everything to be done to this house and the grounds. I’ve -an idea of a glass piazza to close in that upper terrace, but the -whole front of the house wants modernising real badly.” -</p> - -<p> -Usk restrained himself with some difficulty. “Perhaps you don’t know -that the Castle is considered one of the finest houses in the -country?” he said. “It would be horribly out of character to try to -make an American summer hotel out of it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I’d as lief have it that as a ruin,” said Félicia -indifferently. “But it don’t even look old, only shabby. That’s what I -would just admire, to add on towers and battlements, and all that, and -make it a real castle.” -</p> - -<p> -“A sham castle,” said Usk. “And I don’t think you would care to live -in it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I’d have plate-glass windows, and electricity everywhere, of -course. And inside! Why, your mother has the rooms so bare, they feel -to me ’most indecent. When I fix up the picture-gallery, you’ll see -it’ll be just elegant. All those musty old pictures and horrid suits -of armour and swords and things will take a back seat. Now you feel -like looking at them because there’s nothing else to see, but when -I’ve inaugurated my reforms, one of them will just be on hand here and -there as a surprise.” -</p> - -<p> -“And how do you intend to dispose of them, then?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, instead of that horrid old dull tapestry and black panelling, -I’ll have silk hangings in pastel shades, each room a different -colour. I’ll have them weave them on purpose for me in France. And all -those cute little recesses in the gallery I’ll turn into cosy nooks, -with French furniture and nicknacks and Japanese things, and now and -then a suit of armour that’ll just give you the coldest kind of a -shudder. And some of the pictures can be cleaned, and the rest be -hidden back of the hangings. It’ll be too cunning for anything.” -</p> - -<p> -“Rather!” said Usk, with a short laugh. “I am only delighted to think -that my father and mother will probably be supreme here for twenty or -thirty years yet, happily, and that by that time you’ll have learnt to -be so fond of the Castle that you won’t want to lay a finger on it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Now that’s real horrid of you!” said Félicia angrily. “I don’t see -but Lord and Lady Caerleon would very well leave the Castle to us, and -go and live some other place. I don’t choose to board, especially with -your folks. I want a house of my own, so’s I can stamp my -individuality upon it.” -</p> - -<p> -“That you can have in London. There’s no likelihood whatever of my -parents giving up the Castle to us, I am thankful to say. Why should -they?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, because they’ve had it ever so long,” cried Félicia. “I shall -want to have house-parties here, when we’re not in town. Say, Usk! -I’ll restore the Abbey, and we’ll have that for our country-house.” -</p> - -<p> -“The Abbey!” Usk was aghast. “Do you know that all our family are -buried there?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, we’ll soon fix them up somewhere else. Why, I’ll have just the -loveliest sort of house-parties, not like any other person’s. We’ll -call them ‘retreats,’ and I’ll design a cunning little nun’s dress for -every one to wear. The papers will just gloat over it, and all of the -smart set will be fighting for invitations.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t like jokes of this kind,” said Usk, with forced calmness. “Of -course, when you are mistress of the Castle, you can alter the -arrangements as you please, provided you don’t destroy or make away -with the old things, but I give you fair warning that you won’t touch -a single stone of the walls, or do anything to desecrate the Abbey.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, I guess I’ll have to burn the Castle down. Then I can build it up -again as I want it!” said Félicia airily, leaving Usk with the -uncomfortable conviction that she had been joking all the time, and -that he had made a foolish display of strong feeling, and invoked his -authority quite unnecessarily. However, it pleased Félicia so much to -have made him angry at last, that she treated him better for the next -few days, until the tension became acute once more under the influence -of a stray piece of news from the Riviera. -</p> - -<p> -In answer to Cyril’s telegram, Mr Hicks had cabled that there was -nothing to prevent the trustees from supporting Félicia’s claim, if -she did not consider her father’s strongly expressed wish as binding -on her, and he added such details as to the papers and other objects -left in his charge by Mr Steinherz as enabled Cyril to draw up a -statement at once. The relationship between his wife and the royal -family of Arragon gave him the opportunity of proceeding privately, -much to his satisfaction, for expecting the whole affair to end in -smoke, he did not care for it to be canvassed in the European press. -Félicia would have preferred publicity, for she had been looking -forward confidently to becoming the heroine of the sensation-mongering -American papers, and felt that she was being defrauded of the -interviews and portraits that were her due. She yielded, however, to -the strong pressure brought to bear on her by Maimie, who pointed out -that a Steinherz boom would certainly alienate King Michael, not -knowing that King Michael himself was on the verge of rendering this -precaution unnecessary by carrying out too faithfully his part of the -programme. It was a paragraph in a weekly society paper which made his -doings known at Llandiarmid. Queen Ernestine brought the paper to her -husband when it reached the Castle, and pointed out to him anxiously -the “Lady’s Letter from the Riviera.” -</p> - -<p> -“Listen to this, Cyril,” she said. “‘Among last week’s arrivals at -Nice was the young King of Thracia, travelling <i>incognito</i> as Baron -von Neuburg. He may be seen every day in close attendance on the -pretty Grand-Duchess Sonya, who is making a short stay at the -Conciliation with her father, the Grand-Duke Eugen of Scythia, and the -announcement of their betrothal is daily expected. It is well known -that the attachment between them is of long standing, but that the -course of true love was interrupted by the attempt of the Dowager -Queen and her English husband to marry King Michael to the latter’s -niece, a daughter of the Marquis of Caerleon. Happily the young lady -was possessed of less ambition or more good sense than her august -relations, and made a love-match with a commoner a year or two ago, so -that her unwilling suitor is at liberty to return to the real object -of his affections.’” -</p> - -<p> -“It strikes me,” said Cyril, “that there is something more than the -unbridled imagination of the lady journalist at work here. I seem to -recognise the touch of a well-known hand. Let me look.” He turned back -to the beginning of the letter, with its usual altruistic -self-congratulation on the number of distinguished personages -sojourning on the Riviera, and pointed out among them the name of the -Princess Dowager of Dardania. “As usual!” he said. “Well, that -relieves your mind a little, doesn’t it? All the same, it might be as -well to write and advise Michael not to play his part too seriously.” -</p> - -<p> -But if Cyril’s acuteness, born of experience, had lessened the Queen’s -anxiety, there was no one to reassure Félicia in the same way. She -found the paper that evening and read the paragraph, and the crown -which had been merely shadowy seemed to become real and desirable in -proportion as it receded from her view. She blamed Maimie for -mismanaging things, blamed herself for consenting to remain at -Llandiarmid and prosecute her claim by deputy, and blamed the King -most of all for his inconstancy, showing a jealousy which her own -equivocal position did not by any means justify. She slept little that -night, and Maimie, who sat up for hours alternately arguing with and -soothing her, was at her wits’ end. It was her chief terror that -Félicia might insist on following the King to the Riviera forthwith, -but it would be almost as bad if she betrayed herself by making scenes -at Llandiarmid. She tried to persuade her to remain in bed the next -day, but Félicia refused pettishly, and made her appearance about an -hour before lunch, looking so ghastly that Usk uttered an exclamation -of horror. Unfortunately, this was a fresh grievance. -</p> - -<p> -“If I am looking sick, you needn’t tell me so,” she complained. -</p> - -<p> -“But you ought to see the doctor. Let me ride over and fetch him.” -</p> - -<p> -“No; I want to have you amuse me. Don’t look at me that way. You make -me nervous. Why don’t you say something amusing? I guess you would -make yourself sick worrying if you were tormented like me—not knowing -whether you were a princess or just a no-account girl.” -</p> - -<p> -“Isn’t it enough to be Miss Steinherz of the United States? Look here, -Fay, why not chuck it all? It’s only making you ill and miserable, and -you have a capital opportunity now. Uncle Cyril asked me to tell you -that Don Ramon of Arragon flatly refuses to recognise or even consider -your claim, and you can accept that as final. Otherwise you’ll have to -approach the Emperor of Pannonia, and go through all this bother -again, with just the same result.” -</p> - -<p> -“How do you know it would be just the same?” demanded Félicia -sharply. “It’s to your advantage to try and keep me out of my rights, -because you don’t want to lose me.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, oughtn’t you to be pleased at that? But I don’t see why I -should lose you if your claim was allowed.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I guess if I was a princess——” -</p> - -<p> -“You’d throw me over? Thanks, awfully! Do you imagine that if I became -a prince it would make any difference to you?” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, but you’d raise me to your level, any way. I couldn’t raise you.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, indeed, and I’m thankful for it. But don’t let us bother about -such nonsense, Fay. You’re no more likely to be a princess than I am -to be a prince, so why not recognise the fact and withdraw gracefully, -instead of wearing yourself to death worrying about it?” -</p> - -<p> -“Because I don’t feel like acting that way,” said Félicia -obstinately. “Well, supposing they did acknowledge me, and we had to -break off our engagement, what would you do?” -</p> - -<p> -“What other men do when they’re jilted, I imagine—grin and bear it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Would the world become a blank to you? Would you never believe in a -woman again?” -</p> - -<p> -“I should never believe in you again, certainly. But other women—why, -there’d be the mater and Phil just the same. Why shouldn’t I believe -in them?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, you might say you wouldn’t, any way,” pouted Félicia. -</p> - -<p> -“Look here,” said Usk. “You said you wanted to be amused, and I hope -you are. All this sort of stuff doesn’t amuse me at all. Let’s come -out.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, thanks. I’m awfully interested, analysing you. I do wish you were -different—sort of imperious, you know, so’s I daren’t disobey you. -I’d love to be made to feel that I just had to do whatever you wanted, -and there was no choice about loving you or anything. It would save so -much trouble.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m sorry, for your sake, that I’m not that kind of man. I never met -one, but I’ve read about them in books. Seems to me you’d have a -cheerful time—especially when you wanted to disobey him, and didn’t -dare to.” -</p> - -<p> -“I guess it would be better than this, any way. I can’t think why -things should be so horrid. I just want to have a good time, that’s -all, and every single thing seems to conspire to prevent it. It’s real -hateful!” and Félicia broke into genuine sobs. Usk’s first impulse -was to walk away, but he restrained it and stood awkwardly by. His own -temper was considerably ruffled by this time, and he was not disposed -to blame himself for Félicia’s tears, but her sobs became more and -more vehement, and he cast his injured dignity to the winds. -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t, Fay, don’t!” he entreated, kneeling down beside her. “I was a -brute to say what I did. I didn’t mean it—whatever it was; at least, -I didn’t mean you to take it like this. It was my fault, I know. What -was it I said that hurt your feelings? You know I didn’t mean it. Oh, -do stop. Here’s your Maimie coming, and she’ll be sure to say I made -you cry, and I don’t know what I could have said.” -</p> - -<p> -But Félicia sobbed on, and Maimie glared at Usk as she came up. -</p> - -<p> -“I do think you’re real horrid,” she said judicially. “Here’s Fay -making herself sick crying, and you teasing her all the time. I’ll -have her go up to town and see a nerve-specialist, now the weather’s -warmer. Your cars are so draughty in winter that I’d just as lief have -taken her to the Arctic. But I know all this is telling upon her -nerves, and it’s awfully bad the way you go on exciting her. Come, -Fay, darling.” -</p> - -<p> -She swept away the still sobbing Félicia, leaving Usk to mental abuse -of himself and her in turn, and having settled her in her room, went -with a grave face in search of Lady Caerleon. She felt certain that -the shock and strain of the autumn and winter had been too much for -Félicia’s strength, and that it was imperative to take her to a -London doctor at once. Grieved and startled, Lady Caerleon offered to -accompany the two girls herself, but Maimie declined her escort -gracefully. She and Félicia and the maid would run up to town for two -nights, and see whether the complete change from her present -surroundings would do anything to restore Félicia’s cheerfulness. The -inference was obvious, and Lady Caerleon interposed to restrain her -husband when he wished to insist upon accompanying the girls. It was -out of the question, he declared, for them to make the journey alone, -and stay at a hotel by themselves, but his wife was strongly of -opinion that it was better to leave them to take their own course. -Things could not go on as they were at present, and a little -reflection might show Félicia how severely she had of late tried the -patience of her friends. -</p> - -<p> -It is possible that there was in Lady Caerleon’s mind the thought, or -even the hope, that Félicia might discover that she was happier apart -from Usk, and take the opportunity of breaking off her engagement, but -the actual upshot of the visit to London was quite unexpected. It was -announced in a letter from Maimie, brief and agitated in appearance. -</p> - -<div class="letter"> - -<p> -“<span class="sc">Dear Lady Caerleon</span>,” she wrote, “I’m in the most awful state of -mind about Félicia. The doctor says it would be simply fatal for her -to return to the country at this season. She must just be in a -cheerful place, with lively people around, and everything bright. Most -happily, the letter that arrived when we were starting was from Mrs -van Zyl, repeating her former invitation to Nice, and I have wired to -tell her to expect us right now. We have bought a travelling-suit -each, and a waist or two, here, but we will just take a few hours in -Paris as we pass through, and get some decent gowns. I am sorry to -have quit Llandiarmid so suddenly, but at present I can think of -nothing but Félicia. She looks awfully sick, but I hope to see her -revive in the South. She will insert a note to Lord Usk if she feels -able. Will you kindly send our baggage after us to the Villa -Bougainvillea?” -</p> - -</div> - -<p> -There was no note enclosed, and this omission threw Usk into a -terrible state of alarm. Félicia was ill, perhaps dying, and he was -to blame. He would hear of nothing but rushing off to Nice at once, -and he was throwing his things into a bag when his uncle came down the -corridor and saw his preparations through the open door of his room. -</p> - -<p> -“I think this is a little unnecessary,” he observed gently. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, she may be gone before I get there!” cried Usk. -</p> - -<p> -“Scarcely. It may interest you to know that her boxes and Miss Logan’s -are all packed and locked. It’s no good shutting your eyes to it, Usk. -The visit to the doctor was a polite fiction to enable the girls to -leave the Castle without interference. We will put it more kindly, and -say they were bent on going, and wished to save us the trouble of -dissuading them. The question now is, what are you going to do?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know why I should do anything but go to her,” said Usk -doggedly. -</p> - -<p> -“Are you certain you are wanted?” -</p> - -<p> -Usk turned on his uncle. “If you know anything, say it, and don’t keep -hinting things,” he cried. “Why shouldn’t she want me?” -</p> - -<p> -“You think you would not be <i>de trop</i> when Michael was present?” -</p> - -<p> -Usk’s eyes flamed, and he made a step forward, but his hands dropped -suddenly to his side. “I’ll see her,” he said hoarsely, “and tell her -she must choose once for all between that fellow and me. I won’t be -kept hanging on, to be made useful if she doesn’t succeed in landing -him. But I don’t believe it’s that at all. She’s anxious and worried -about this wretched claim of hers, as she told me herself, and it’s -just a chance that he happens to be at Nice.” -</p> - -<p> -“Very well. As you say, it’s as well to see her before you judge. Your -aunt and I think of going to Nice to look after Michael a little, and -you may as well travel with us, and not rush off in this dramatic way. -You won’t want to make your differences of opinion public, I suppose, -in any case?” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch10"> -CHAPTER X.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">A DAMSEL IN DISTRESS.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">Nice</span> was looking its loveliest, but to Usk, making his way along the -Promenade des Anglais in the direction of the Villa Bougainvillea, it -was not lovely at all. He was uneasy and troubled in mind, and -thoroughly out of tune with his surroundings, and with the gay groups -of well-dressed people he met. The palms and the sunshine, the blue -sea and the white houses set in flowers and greenery, all jarred with -his mood. Not another word had reached him from Félicia herself or -from Maimie, but although he had only arrived the night before, there -had been time to learn that the Baron von Neuburg now divided his -abundant leisure and his <i>petits soins</i> between the Grand-Duchess -Sonya and a beautiful American girl who was staying with the -fascinating grass-widow, Mrs van Zyl. Even now, as he turned into one -of the side-avenues, in order to reach the smart white house nestling -in its groves of orange- and lemon-trees, he met a motor-car of the -latest and most elaborate construction, and recognised in the two men -who occupied it, disguised as they were by huge spectacles and -mackintosh coats and caps, King Michael and Captain Andreivics. He saw -a meaning glance pass between them as they returned his salute, and he -walked on faster, reaching the villa quickly enough to find the two -ladies who had shared the drive still lingering on the rose-hung -piazza in front of the house. They wore businesslike dust-proof gowns, -edged and faced with highly decorated leather, and their faces were -hidden by long gauze veils crossed behind and tied, French fashion, -under the chin, but Félicia’s exquisite figure was unmistakable, and -Usk mounted the steps without waiting for an invitation. He was -received with a little shriek. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, now, I was sort of expecting you!” cried Félicia. “It’s just -wonderful how one’s friends find one out. Sadie, this is Viscount Usk, -the son of the kind folks that have been boarding Maimie and me all -winter.” -</p> - -<p> -A kind of chill ran through Usk’s veins. “She hasn’t even told the -woman of our engagement!” he said to himself. -</p> - -<p> -“Awfully good of you to come so soon!” said Mrs van Zyl, a small, -sharp-featured woman with artificially bleached hair and a high voice. -“I guess we must change these horrid gowns now, but maybe you’ll <i>five -o’cloquer</i> with us this afternoon. I know there are just about three -hundred people coming.” -</p> - -<p> -“You are very kind,” said Usk, then he turned to Félicia. “I will -come at any time when it is convenient for <i>you</i> to see me,” he said -pointedly. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I don’t see but you can do that at tea,” she replied. -</p> - -<p> -“Say, Lord Usk, we can’t have you monopolise Miss Steinherz!” cried -Mrs van Zyl. “She’s just about the most popular girl in Nice, and -she’s getting fresh invitations all the time.” -</p> - -<p> -“I won’t detain her long,” said Usk, not offering to withdraw. -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, you’re bringing some message from your mother!” said Félicia. -“You come this afternoon, any way, and I’ll see you have a chance to -deliver it.” -</p> - -<p> -Usk accepted his dismissal, and went away, in no wise comforted. He -said nothing to his uncle or aunt of the reception he had met with, -but in the afternoon he returned to the Villa Bougainvillea with -absolute punctuality, determined to come to an understanding with -Félicia. He was shown into a small room, which was apparently the -private boudoir of the mistress of the house, so full was it of the -rococo and the bizarre. Presently Félicia glided in, in a wonderful -shimmering tea-gown of heliotrope shot with silver, and partly veiled -with long falling scarves of filmy lace, and Usk noticed with a pang -that her whole face and bearing seemed to have changed. There had been -a starved look about her at Llandiarmid, as if the cold northern air -and the simple life of the Castle had afflicted her with actual -pinching hunger, but here she was evidently in her element. The luxury -of the surroundings, the curious and costly objects which over-filled -every corner, seemed only a fitting frame for her beauty. Her face was -calmer and softer in outline, and her voice had lost its sharp tone as -she said, laying a little hand lightly on Usk’s arm— -</p> - -<p> -“Are you awfully mad with me, Usk?” -</p> - -<p> -It would be brutal to say that he was, and moreover, Usk was conscious -that his anger seemed to have melted away. It was impossible to -cherish it in the presence of those speaking eyes, that caressing -hand. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Fay, Fay!” he cried, catching her in his arms. “I knew it was all -right really. I knew you didn’t mean to be so horribly unkind.” -</p> - -<p> -“Unkind? to you? Oh, Usk!” Félicia dropped her head on his shoulder -for an instant, then raised it hastily and felt surreptitiously at her -hair. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, you were, you know. It nearly broke my heart this morning when -I saw you hadn’t told Mrs van Zyl that we were engaged.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I did tell her, Usk, only she’s real mad about it. They all beg -and entreat me not to make it public just yet on account of the claim. -Sadie is ready to swear that the Emperor won’t ever entertain it if he -thinks I’m provided for now. The only chance is to have myself appear -as a wealthy heiress entirely at my own disposal.” -</p> - -<p> -“And so you throw me over to deceive your father’s people?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t throw you over. I just ask you to wait and not announce our -engagement for the present. That can’t hurt you, any way.” -</p> - -<p> -“It does hurt me very much to see you encouraging King Michael.” -</p> - -<p> -“Encouraging him? because Sadie and I went for a ride on his -automobile? You get one, and we’ll come with you.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s not that. There’s an idea that he will marry you if your claim -is substantiated.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do tell! I’m real grateful to his Majesty. Well, Usk, I’m not -responsible for any plans he and Maimie may have fixed up together, -but I haven’t ever said a single word to him about any such thing, nor -he to me.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then you are not thinking of marrying him, even if by some miracle -the Emperor should persuade your father’s people to recognise you?” -</p> - -<p> -“I’ve imagined all the time that I was thinking of marrying you. No, -Usk, I won’t make any pledges. I’m going to have you trust me.” She -laid her white arms, from which the hanging sleeves fell back, round -his neck. “If you don’t feel like it, say so, and I’ll set you free -this moment, but if you’re the right kind of a man, you’ll believe in -me.” -</p> - -<p> -“I do believe in you,” said Usk hoarsely, kissing first one wrist and -then the other; “but don’t make it harder for me than you can help, -Fay.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’ll make it just as hard as I can,” laughed Félicia, stepping back, -“to punish you for doubting me at all. I shall fairly admire to test -your faith and see what it’s worth, so just remember that when you -find things in a snarl. You do trust me?” -</p> - -<p> -“I do, absolutely.” -</p> - -<p> -“Good boy! And you’ll defend me against the nasty suspicious things -your uncle says? It’s real kind of him to be so anxious to secure me -in the family, but I don’t feel like gratifying him just yet.” -</p> - -<p> -“But you won’t encourage the King? It’s that which makes him——” -</p> - -<p> -“I won’t promise not to go riding with him, if that’s what you mean. -Sadie will go around with me everywhere, you needn’t be afraid. She -knows what it is to be a chaperon in Europe, and she’ll do her duty to -the death. And now I guess we’ve had just about enough high-falutin’. -But before we go in the <i>salon</i>, just look at these patterns for our -dominos for the <i>corso</i> Tuesday. Don’t you think this shade of -heliotrope is quite too sweet for anything?” She held it up to her -face. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s a pretty colour,” said Usk hesitatingly. “But, Fay——” -</p> - -<p> -“And we’re going to fix up the carriage with those light-purple -anemones—just a mass of them. I wanted hepaticas—you can get real -nice shades in them, a much pinker purple, you know—but every one -says they wouldn’t last above an hour. Don’t you think it’ll be -awfully elegant?” -</p> - -<p> -“But surely you aren’t going? Your mourning——” -</p> - -<p> -“Silly boy! don’t you call this mourning?” She flourished the -heliotrope silk before his eyes. “But maybe, if you are very good and -unexacting beforehand, I won’t go. I’d just as lief see it from a -window. Now mind, I won’t have you trail me around everywhere. You’ll -get your turn with the rest, but it don’t do to be covetous.” -</p> - -<p> -It was with some misgivings that Usk followed her to the <i>salon</i>, -which was full of people, of a type with which he had not hitherto had -much acquaintance. The ladies were mostly Americans, either sojourning -in Europe without their husbands, like Mrs van Zyl, or married to -Continental noblemen of various nationalities. There was a sprinkling -of these gentlemen present, but most of the men were unencumbered by -domestic ties, and purely cosmopolitan, the product of the modern -health resort. Originally French, Brazilian, or Hungarian by race, -they had travelled so much in search of sport or distraction that the -whole civilised world was equally dull to them, and the only place -which was still able to kindle a spark of excitement in their breasts -was Monte Carlo. With them the talk was of the tables or of -pigeon-shooting, while the ladies preferred generally to discuss -flowers and fancy dresses. Lent fell late this year, so that although -it was the middle of March, the last days of the Carnival were still -to come, and every one was on the alert to discover what her neighbour -was going to wear. -</p> - -<p> -Usk left the villa before any of the other guests, meeting King -Michael on the threshold as he did so. The two young men eyed one -another with unfriendly glances. Each resented the other’s presence, -without having the right to object to it; but Usk noticed uneasily -that the King walked straight into the hall, and that Maimie, looking -more eager and anxious than ever, in a sprightly black-and-white gown, -fluttered out to meet him, and took him into the little boudoir -whither he himself had been conducted only an hour before. His uncle’s -words recurred to him, but he set his teeth. “She has asked me to -trust her, and I will—I do,” he repeated. -</p> - -<p> -It was natural, perhaps, that Cyril should not be so ready to accept -this view of the case. When Usk entered the <i>appartement</i> at the -Hôtel des Rois, which had been taken in the names of Lord and Lady -Cyril Mortimer, he was met by the secretary Paschics, who said that -his uncle wished to see him as soon as he came in. Usk was not at all -anxious to see his uncle, and his misgivings returned sharply upon him -as he sought him on the balcony of their sitting-room. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, have you had any talk with Félicia?” asked Cyril. -</p> - -<p> -“Just a little. I only had her to myself for a minute or two.” -</p> - -<p> -“And is she willing to have the engagement announced?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, no; not just yet. She has got some idea that it would prejudice -her claim if it was known.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then you have broken it off?” -</p> - -<p> -“Rather not. I have agreed to keep it private a little longer.” -</p> - -<p> -“In fact,” said Cyril, with slow scorn, “you set out to end an -anomalous state of things, and then agree to perpetuate it. You bind -yourself and leave her free, though it’s perfectly clear that she is -merely keeping you on as a last resource in case she loses Michael.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s nothing of the kind,” said Usk. “She has no thought of -Michael—she told me so herself.” -</p> - -<p> -“You are in love with love,” said Cyril bitterly, “and honour, and -self-sacrifice, and all the other things of which Miss Steinherz knows -no more than she does of good taste. Don’t you see the girl’s fooling -you?” -</p> - -<p> -“It may look like that to you, but you don’t know her as I do. She’s -playing for a great stake, and she shall have her chance. I won’t let -her be able to say that she would have won if I had not baulked her. -She won’t win, of course, but at least it won’t be my fault, and she -will leave off thinking about it, and we shall be all right.” -</p> - -<p> -“She is nothing but an adventuress who can’t make up her mind to burn -her boats.” -</p> - -<p> -Usk turned very white. “You have no right to say that of the lady who -has promised to marry me,” he said. -</p> - -<p> -“I beg your pardon; I ought not to have thought aloud. It is a bad -habit that has grown on me of late. My dear Usk, if she had promised -to marry you I should see daylight. As it is, she may have promised -and she may not. Can you assert a promise if the lady sees fit to deny -it?” -</p> - -<p> -“She won’t deny it. And, anyhow, it’s a thing that only affects me. I -am satisfied to wait until she chooses to announce our engagement, and -I don’t see what any one else has to do with it.” -</p> - -<p> -“In other words, I am to mind my own business. But, unfortunately, -this is my business, though I assure you no one can regret it more -than I do. I have just heard that the Grand-Duke and Duchess of -Schwarzwald-Molzau are on their way here. He is Michael’s uncle, and -it is quite natural that he should be frightened by the reports about -the Grand-Duchess Sonya, and come to find out the truth for himself, -but I haven’t a doubt that he is also commissioned to inquire into -Félicia’s affair on behalf of the Emperor of Pannonia, his -brother-in-law. They have come to the conclusion that her claim is a -serious one, and he is to see if she is presentable, and whether she -can be bought off. Now, suppose Michael takes it into his head to say -that he will marry Sonya Eugenovna unless he is allowed to marry -Félicia, what am I to do? No one would expect me to help him to cut -out one of my own family, but I am not allowed to say she is engaged -to you. I tell you frankly I should very much prefer to eliminate you -from the matter, for you and she are not in the least suited to one -another; but it seems that you object to that. It’s what I should like -best of all to see Félicia engaged to Michael, and her fortune made -useful in re-establishing Thracian credit, and yet I must invent -obstacles to prevent it. Of course the usual convenient fiction of the -overmastering avarice and ambition of the Mortimer family will come to -the front, and I shall be accused of plotting to engineer Félicia -into a marriage with you for the sake of her money, and putting her up -to this preposterous claim of hers in order to strengthen my position -by an alliance with royalty. Pleasant, very!” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m awfully sorry, but you can hardly expect me——” -</p> - -<p> -“To renounce your <i>fiancée</i> in order to spare my battered reputation -a few more knocks? I quite see that. Oh, don’t think I blame you. Here -am I groping helplessly to try and find the thread of affairs which I -could once have worked out in my sleep, and losing my temper with you -over it. It’s that which drives me wild.” -</p> - -<p> -He rose hastily, and left the balcony by the farther window, and Usk, -feeling perplexed and somewhat guilty, returned into the sitting-room, -where Queen Ernestine was writing at the table. -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t trouble your uncle more than you can help, Usk,” she said, -looking up. “He is very much worried just now.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s not my fault——” began Usk indignantly. Then he stopped, and -fidgeted awkwardly with the inkstand. “I don’t want to bother you, or -to do anything rude,” he broke out; “but if you could say a word or -two to the King! Of course it’s only natural he should admire her, and -that she should be pleased, but—well, you see how it is. I don’t -think I’m jealous generally, but it really is rather rough on a man. -And it’s just the uncertainty that’s weighing on Uncle Cyril, too. -Don’t you think—is there any reason why the King shouldn’t marry this -Scythian Princess?” -</p> - -<p> -The Queen looked almost terrified. “You don’t understand,” she said. -“It is not that we could have any objection to Sonya herself; it is -simply that the marriage is being pressed on by my cousin, the -Princess of Dardania, for her own purposes. She has hated your uncle -for many years, and she hates me because I am his wife. It was her -influence which banished your uncle from Thracia, and led to the -present troubles. To see Michael delivered over to her again—— No, I -must fight to the end against that.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m sorry,” said Usk. “I only thought—well, if he was married to -some one else, you see, there would be no excuse for these women to -persuade Félicia that he was after her. That’s what it is, you know. -It’s not her fault, it’s theirs. They get round her and make her think -that he really means something, and she doesn’t know——” -</p> - -<p> -“That he is only amusing himself?” supplied the Queen, as he paused. -“Oh, Usk, I see your trouble, and I will do anything I can to help -you. I fear it might not be much use to speak to Michael, but if we -could only see him happily married! There is just a chance that he -might take to the Schwarzwald-Molzaus’ youngest daughter, who is -coming here with them. But she is a mere child, only confirmed last -year, and I could not wish them to marry unless they loved one -another. I am afraid I have been indiscreet in speaking of it, but it -would smooth your path, wouldn’t it? Indeed I will help you if I can.” -</p> - -<p> -She held out her hand mechanically, and Usk kissed it, in the way he -had learned from his uncle. The Queen laughed. -</p> - -<p> -“I ought to play my part better by this time, at any rate in my own -family, ought I not?” she said. “Are you going to see that poor Mr -Nicholson, Usk? If there is anything he would like, flowers or fruit, -or books, you will tell me, won’t you? It seems sad to be so ill away -from home, and all alone.” -</p> - -<p> -Nicholson was a college friend of Usk’s, who was now at Nice as a -hopeless invalid. Usk had not cared for him particularly at Cambridge, -but had been startled and touched to meet him in the hall that -morning, and learn that he was alone save for a servant. Nicholson -himself protested that the Riviera had done him no end of good, and -that he was going to join in the Carnival gaieties on Shrove Tuesday, -but his appearance made the words seem a bitter mockery. -</p> - -<p> -“Thanks awfully,” said Usk. “I was just going to sit with him a bit, -and I’m sure he’ll think it tremendously kind of you. I was wondering -whether I might ask him in to tea one afternoon? I thought he would -like to talk to you a little. He doesn’t know in the least who you -are, of course, but his people don’t seem to realise how ill he is, -any more than he does himself, and there seems to be no one——” -</p> - -<p> -“I understand. Yes, of course, ask him to come in to-morrow if he -feels well enough, and we will take care not to invite any one else.” -</p> - -<p> -Usk took his departure, and spent an hour with his sick friend, whose -society was harrowing enough, owing to the ghastly contrast between -his plans and ambitions and his state of health. But there was a -reward for Usk when he returned to his own room, for a tiny note was -awaiting him from Félicia. It was written with purple ink upon paper -of a lighter shade, and perfumed with heliotrope—all the very latest -Parisian fancy of the moment—but Usk tore it open without a glance at -anything but the direction. -</p> - -<div class="letter"> - -<p> -“<span class="sc">Dear Boy</span>,” it ran, “Did you think me awfully mean this afternoon? -This is to make up. I have told Sadie that I am just not going to the -<i>fêtes</i> Tuesday, but I haven’t told her that I am coming riding with -you instead. I am, if you ask me nicely.—Yours, -</p> - -<p class="sign2"> -<span class="sc">Félicia</span>.” -</p> - -</div> - -<p> -Naturally, the only thing to do on receiving such a letter was to -hasten to secure the smartest possible vehicle for a long country -drive. But Usk found to his dismay that not a single proprietor would -let out a carriage of any description on the day mentioned save for -use at the Carnival, and he was obliged to invite himself to tea at -the villa instead. Félicia pouted when he told her of the change, and -kept him for some time in anxiety as to whether she would allow him to -come or not, averring that the ideal lover would have purchased a -complete turn-out rather than disappoint his mistress of the drive on -which she had set her heart. Usk pleaded that he had not the money, -whereupon she retorted that an American would have made the purchase -on credit, and resold the cart and horse at a profit immediately -afterwards, thus combining business with pleasure. However, she was at -last induced to promise to be at home, and Usk felt his self-respect -restored. He would have Félicia to himself, without the intervention -of Maimie, or Mrs van Zyl, or the King, and his uncle would be forced -to see that his suspicions were unfounded. -</p> - -<p> -But when the Tuesday afternoon arrived, a note was brought to Usk as -he sat in Nicholson’s room reading to the invalid, who had got as far -as the Jardin Publique in the morning, and there discovered that his -strength was at an end. This note was written with crimson ink upon -rose-scented pink paper, and Usk found that it came from Mrs van Zyl. -It was very short. -</p> - -<div class="letter"> - -<p> -“<span class="sc">Dear Lord Usk</span>,—Félicia is real sorry to disappoint you, but she -thinks it her duty not to miss such an excellent opportunity of seeing -the Carnival. I wish we could have you come with us, but our carriage -is full.—Yours truly, -</p> - -<p class="sign2"> -<span class="sc">Sadie van Zyl</span>.” -</p> - -</div> - -<p> -Usk crushed the note angrily in his hand when he had glanced at it. Of -course it might mean no more than that Félicia was to view the -Carnival procession from a window, but he felt almost certain that she -would don fancy dress and join in all the gaiety that offered itself. -And who was to occupy the fourth seat in the carriage? Only one answer -suggested itself—King Michael. Usk fought against the conviction in -vain. At last he stood up, and spoke hurriedly to Nicholson, who had -been watching him curiously. -</p> - -<p> -“I’m off. I shall go and see what all the foolery is like, anyhow.” -</p> - -<p> -“Disappointed of your tea-party?” laughed the invalid, his worn face -elfish, almost malicious. “But you can’t go down into the thick of the -fun in those things. You’ll be mobbed. Look here, you wear the togs I -ordered for myself—we’re about the same height. Ring for Jenkins, and -he’ll bring them. I was going as the typical Englishman of French -caricature. Now then, there you are. Don’t forget the whiskers, mind.” -</p> - -<p> -“They aren’t the right colour for me,” said Usk, tossing down the long -Dundreary whiskers which had been selected to match Nicholson’s sandy -hair. “I’m sure I shall look enough of an ass without them. Where in -the world did you get such checks?” -</p> - -<p> -“Horse-blanket,” responded Nicholson, breathlessly but proudly. -“Tasty, isn’t it? I thought when I chose it I should make a sensation, -but now I know what the French believe about us, I’m certain it will -fall flat. People will only say, ‘That English fellow has no business -to come in his ordinary clothes.’” -</p> - -<p> -“Ordinary!” gasped Usk, from the adjoining room, where he was arraying -himself rapidly in the scarlet and yellow checked knickerbockers, the -orange tawny Norfolk jacket, the golf-stockings combining all the -colours of the rainbow, and the aggressive sun-helmet, surrounded by a -white puggaree striped with red and blue, which Nicholson considered -would enable the French populace to identify the typical Englishman so -dear to their hearts. Football boots and an alpenstock completed the -costume, and when Usk had donned the orthodox velvet mask, Nicholson -lay back upon his pillows, and laughed and coughed until the tears ran -down his cheeks. -</p> - -<p> -“I wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” he gasped. “I shouldn’t have -realised the effect half as well on myself. You might have stepped out -of ‘Le Rire,’ except for your modest air of uneasiness. Swagger a bit, -and grind your teeth. Walk as if the whole earth belonged to you. And -do put on the whiskers. They’ll look all the funnier with your dark -moustache.” -</p> - -<p> -But this last sacrifice to appearances Usk declined to make, and after -Nicholson had reminded him to provide himself with a good bag of -confetti and a tin scoop, he crept downstairs, hoping fervently not to -meet any one he knew, and went out by the side door of the hotel, -whence he found his way easily to the Old Town and into the main -stream of gaiety. His sole idea had been to look for Félicia, to -convince himself that she had deliberately broken her promise to him, -or perhaps to have the delight of finding that Mrs van Zyl and Maimie -were joining in the fun without her. But once in the whirling, -ever-changing throng, he soon recognised that there was little hope of -finding any one. Strangers accosted him, rallied him on his -loneliness, invited him to join them. Confetti flew about in showers, -small hard bouquets hurtled through the air from the decorated -carriages as they passed, and the phantasmagoria of sound and colour -fleeted and shifted every moment. Overhead, against the glowing blue -of the sky, were strings of fluttering flags and wreaths of evergreen; -a little lower, windows and shop-fronts were garlanded and decked with -bright-hued stuffs; the lofty cars which lurched past vied with one -another in the richness of their colour-schemes and the <i>bizarrerie</i> -of their mechanical devices; small foot-soldiers and dragoons on -prancing steeds were pressed hither and thither in valiant attempts to -keep a line. There were people in the road, people on the pavement, -people in every door and window, people on the roofs. Bands blared, -maskers hissed, cackled, hooted, neighed, yelled; imperious policemen -forced their way along with the word “<i>circulez</i>” on their lips, -although to obey was obviously impossible. People entangled each other -in long paper streamers, banged each other with bladders, knocked off -each other’s headgear, poked confetti down each other’s collars, all -in high good-humour, and amid shrieks of laughter. Dominos of every -possible colour and shade of colour, Pierrots and Pierrettes of every -degree of inanity, debased national and historical costumes of every -country and every era, eddied round Usk, but he tried in vain to -distinguish any figure that he knew. Anxious and troubled as he was, -he had soon had enough of the scene, but he kept his temper, and flung -his confetti with the best, until they were exhausted. By this time he -had managed to traverse almost the entire route of the procession, and -he turned to retrace his steps. As he did so, he noticed a band of men -with false noses, who seemed to be chaffing some one in their midst. -As Usk was carried close to them by the crowd, he saw that the centre -of attraction was a girl in German peasant costume. Her hair hung in -two thick plaits below her waist, and in her short skirts she looked -little more than a child. Her stiff little round cap had been tweaked -off by one of the group surrounding her, two more had possessed -themselves of the ribbons from her hair, and were announcing that they -would wear them next their hearts for ever after, and another had -pulled the knitting from her apron-pocket and was drawing out the -pins. The girl herself was clinging with both hands to her mask, in -evident though unnecessary terror that it would be the next thing torn -from her, and gazing round like a hunted hare for a way of escape. -With an inarticulate exclamation, Usk pushed his way into the circle. -Whoever the girl might be, her terror and distress were obvious, and -he could not see her tormented by this rabble. To his utter -astonishment, as soon as her eyes fell on him, she darted forward and -seized his arm. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, you have come at last!” she cried in English. “It has seemed so -long!” -</p> - -<p> -“The fair Gretchen has found a cavalier!” laughed one of the -tormentors. -</p> - -<p> -“May they be happy!” cried another, and in the shower of confetti -which followed, Usk made his escape, the girl still clinging to his -arm. She was shaking from head to foot, and he managed to drag her -into a doorway, while he stood before her to protect her from the -crowd. Presently a small meek voice said— -</p> - -<p> -“Please forgive me. I ought not to have pretended I knew you, but I -was so frightened.” The tears were raining down. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, never mind,” said Usk cheerfully, wondering how this child had -been allowed out by herself. “They wouldn’t have hurt you really, you -know. Shall we wait here and watch for your people?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know where they are, and papa will be so angry.” -</p> - -<p> -“Why? Did you come out without his knowing?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh no. I was with him, and I wanted to hold his arm, and he wouldn’t -let me. He said I made him look absurd,” a sob. “But I knew we could -not keep together if I let go, and we were separated in a moment.” -</p> - -<p> -“All right. Don’t cry. I’ll take you home at once if you like. Your -father will guess you’ve gone back. Where are you staying?” -</p> - -<p> -“At the Hôtel des Rois. But please don’t allow me to trouble you.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s no trouble at all. I’m staying there too.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, are you? But I didn’t see you at breakfast. It was so nice seeing -all the people, and trying to guess who they were.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am with my uncle and aunt, and they prefer to have their meals -upstairs.” -</p> - -<p> -“So do papa and mamma. How droll! But it is my birthday to-day, and -mamma allowed me to breakfast on the terrace, for a treat. You are -English, aren’t you? When those horrid men all came round me, I -thought, ‘Oh, if only I could see a German or an Englishman!’” -</p> - -<p> -“You ought to be careful,” said Usk sagely. They were walking through -a quiet street by this time, on their way back to the hotel. “There -are a good many shady characters about.” -</p> - -<p> -“Shady? I don’t know that word. But it means dark, dangerous—is it -not so? But I could see you were not like that, of course.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m glad I was labelled English and harmless to the foreign eye,” -said Usk. “I shouldn’t have thought myself that this get-up would have -inspired confidence.” -</p> - -<p> -“What strange words you use. One judges people by their faces, not by -their get-ups—is that the word?” -</p> - -<p> -“There isn’t very much of my face visible to judge by.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, one can judge a good deal by the general outline,” said the girl -confidently. “Oh, is your uncle the poor sick Englishman I met in the -gardens this morning?” -</p> - -<p> -“No; that’s a friend of mine.” -</p> - -<p> -“I was so sorry for him, because I have been ill so much myself. When -I was a little girl I almost died every winter.” -</p> - -<p> -“But you look all right now.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am quite well, thank you, but mamma lived up in the mountains with -me for two whole years, that I might become strong. I was her baby, -you see.” Usk smiled involuntarily, the remark sounded so naïve. -“Franz, my next brother, was ten years old when I was born, and all -the rest are much older. I am even younger than two of my nephews, the -Princes of Schreckingen.” -</p> - -<p> -“Surely you must be the Princess of Schwarzwald-Molzau?” asked Usk -diffidently. -</p> - -<p> -“The little Princess they call me, or Princess Lenchen. At least they -used to do that, but now papa says I am always to be called the -Princess Helene. I am grown-up, you see, but I don’t feel as if I -were. When I was confirmed I thought there would surely be a -difference, that I should feel grown-up, but I don’t, and it -displeases papa. He used to laugh at the things I said, and say, ‘How -does the child get such things into her head?’ but now he is angry, -and says, ‘Will that child never grow up?’” -</p> - -<p> -She spoke so dolorously that Usk laughed. “You’ll be grown-up quite -soon enough,” he said. “I don’t know what to call you—your -Grand-Ducal Highness?” -</p> - -<p> -“I do not know yet who you are,” she replied, with a quaint little air -of dignity. -</p> - -<p> -“Probably you’ll know my uncle’s name better than mine—Count -Mortimer.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, then we are cousins!” she exclaimed in delight. “At least we have -the same aunt. She was married first to my uncle, you know.” -</p> - -<p> -“And now she is married to mine. Does that make her more my aunt or -yours?” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, but she is my mother’s cousin as well.” -</p> - -<p> -“That gives you the advantage, certainly.” -</p> - -<p> -“But does it make Count Mortimer my uncle? I am so anxious to know -that, and I am afraid to ask papa. He—he doesn’t——” -</p> - -<p> -“Care for the connection? None of you do, I suppose. But I think -you’ll like it better when you know my uncle.” -</p> - -<p> -“Like it? I wish him to be my uncle!” she cried. “You do not know; but -since he came to Molzau for my sister Theudelinde’s wedding, four -years ago, and I heard all about him, I have—oh, I do not know the -English word—<i>geschwärmt</i> for him. What is it that you do to a great -poet, or painter, or any great man?” -</p> - -<p> -“Admire him?” suggested Usk. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh no, no! You admire a horse. Have you no sisters? Did they not set -up some hero’s photograph and place flowers in front of it, and watch -for any mention of his name, and long to obtain his autograph?” -</p> - -<p> -“Now you mention it, I believe Phil—that’s my sister—did have a -severe attack of hero-worship some years ago. It was about the time -Lord Williams came home from Africa.” -</p> - -<p> -“Lord Williams? Oh, I know—Bills!” -</p> - -<p> -“And you pretend not to understand slang!” -</p> - -<p> -“I am sorry. I have heard my English cousins speak of him so much, and -they told me it was considered quite wrong in England to call him -anything else. Then what is the word?” -</p> - -<p> -“Adore, I should think. Or I know a girl, an American”—Usk’s face -clouded again as he thought of Félicia—“who would say she enthused -over him.” -</p> - -<p> -“Enthused? That is a good word. Well, then, I enthused over Count -Mortimer. I found a portrait of him in an illustrated paper—one of my -English cousins was staying with us, and her lady had brought it—and -I cut it out, and had it framed. I put it up in my room, and made a -wreath of green leaves for it on the dear Count’s birthday, and no one -was allowed to dust it but myself. Mamma laughed at me, but when the -trouble came, and your uncle left Thracia, you know, she told me I had -better take it down, lest papa should see it and be angry. So I took -it down, and laid it in a drawer, and looked at it every day; but when -the Count married Aunt Ernestine, I thought papa could not mind, and I -put it up again. But when he saw it he was—oh, I cannot tell you how -angry! and he broke the glass and tore up the portrait. But do you -know what I shall do now? I shall ask Aunt Ernestine to give me a -photograph of him and write my name on it herself. Papa couldn’t tear -that up, could he?” -</p> - -<p> -“Far be it from me to say what papa couldn’t or wouldn’t do!” returned -Usk, almost helpless with laughter, as they mounted the steps of the -Hôtel des Rois. The girl turned to look at him reproachfully, so that -Usk saw before she did an elderly gentleman, in a high state of -excitement, standing in the middle of the hall, and apparently giving -orders to the whole staff of the hotel in an imperious style, which -contrasted ludicrously with his peasant dress and the mask which was -pushed up on his forehead. -</p> - -<p> -“Communicate with the police instantly!” he was saying, with a strong -German accent. “They could do nothing, you say? But I insist upon it. -What! is my daughter to be torn from my side and kidnapped with -impunity?” -</p> - -<p> -“I am here, dear papa,” said the Princess Helene meekly. “I lost my -way, and this—this kind English gentleman brought me home.” -</p> - -<p> -Still spluttering and choking, the Grand-Duke turned round, and glared -at his daughter as if he was angry with her for being brought back. -Then he turned again to wave his hand majestically, and when the -waiters had fled, allowed his gaze to rest upon Usk, who became once -more painfully conscious of his attire. “I am obliged to you, sir,” -said the Grand-Duke coldly. -</p> - -<p> -“Papa,” whispered his daughter, anxious to improve matters, “it is -Aunt Ernestine’s nephew.” She shrank from the look she received as if -from a blow. -</p> - -<p> -“You are the nephew of Count Mortimer, sir, I understand? The Count is -a worthy man, and at one time did good service to my house. I am glad -you follow in his footsteps.” And the Grand-Duke led his daughter -away. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch11"> -CHAPTER XI.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">KNOWN TOO LATE.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">The</span> Grand-Duke and Duchess of Schwarzwald-Molzau were entertaining a -strictly family party at dinner in their <i>appartement</i> at the Hôtel -des Rois. King Michael and his mother were naturally the chief guests, -and the Queen’s presence involved Cyril’s. Usk had also the honour of -being invited, owing to the service he had rendered to the Princess -Helene, and there was a vacant place at the table, no explanation of -which was at first offered. Usk felt supremely uncomfortable, and was -very conscious of being an outsider, though reflection, or policy, or -his wife’s influence, had induced the Grand-Duke to show himself -gracious, if not cordial. Cyril’s help was desirable, even -indispensable, in solving the problems which lay before King Michael’s -relations at this moment, and there was a widespread belief that it -was not wise to show any discourtesy to “the Mortimer,” however -defenceless he might appear. Not that Cyril displayed any disposition -to insist upon his rights. With the tact which always distinguished -him, he claimed nothing that his hosts might not be willing to -concede, and in spite of his delicate position exerted such a genial -influence that before the end of the meal the Grand-Duke was -addressing him with absolute friendliness. It was Queen Ernestine who -was nervously on the look-out for slights offered to her husband, so -that throughout the evening she was clearly ready, as he told her -afterwards, to sail magnificently out of the room at a moment’s -notice, sweeping Usk and himself in her train. Her vigilance was not -without its effect upon the Grand-Duke, beside whom she sat, and as he -hoped much from her influence over the King, he took pains, in a rough -and somewhat tactless fashion, to show her that her fears were -unnecessary. -</p> - -<p> -King Michael sat next to the Grand-Duchess, a stout, -comfortable-looking lady whose sole anxiety seemed to be her husband’s -temper. When she had satisfied herself that he was desirous of -pleasing the Queen, and exhibited no active antipathy to Cyril, she -settled down to enjoy the King’s society. Usk, judging by her -occasional exclamations and generally shocked expression, thought that -he was probably entertaining her with the recital of some of the -escapades with which he daily edified the population of Nice, and that -she, regarding him as a possible son-in-law, was listening -indulgently, if with a certain amount of gratifying horror. -</p> - -<p> -Sitting solitary, since the empty place happened to be next him, Usk -had plenty of opportunity of observing his fellow-diners, and he took -a special delight in watching the pair opposite him. The Princess -Helene was looking very small and shy, and as young as ever, in her -simple white gown, with her hair coiled round and round the small -head, which seemed overweighted by the heavy plaits. She was not -pretty, thought Usk, looking at her dispassionately, she was too thin -and pale, but the over-abundant hair was of a warm brown, and the -large eyes a deep hazel. If she was with people who were kind to her, -and was not in constant fear of being snubbed or called to order, she -would be a jolly little girl. To this conclusion he was led by -observing her demeanour to Cyril, which reminded him of the way she -had talked to himself under the protection of her mask two days -before. At first she was almost too shy to speak, on finding herself -in the actual presence of her idol, but the barrier was soon removed. -There were few people that Cyril could not set at ease, and this -little romantic girl was no exception to the rule. -</p> - -<p> -“He talked to me about interesting things, as if I was quite old,” she -said to Usk in the drawing-room afterwards; and when Usk hinted that -this would not generally be considered a compliment, she was almost -angry. “People always will think that girls want compliments, and -simply to talk about balls and stupid things of that kind,” she cried, -“instead of books, and politics, and <i>life</i>; but the dear Count is not -like that. I have often thought that some day I might see him and -listen to him, but I never, never dreamed that he would talk to me, -and let me talk to him. And I should have lost it all if <i>he</i> had not -been so rude and come in too late for dinner.” -</p> - -<p> -She was sitting at the piano, which was isolated from the rest of the -room in a recess, and Usk was standing beside her to turn over the -pages of her music. As she spoke she threw a little scornful glance in -the direction of the defaulting guest, who had made his appearance, -with profuse apologies, when the meal was just over. A man of -uncertain age, looking young in a dim light, but considerably older -when the glare of the electric lamps fell upon him, he was presented -to the Queen as the Grand-Duke Ivan Petrovitch of Scythia. At first he -had appeared to think it his duty to hover round Helene with talk of -the very kind she despised, but when the four elders of the party drew -together for conversation, he seemed to find a more congenial -companion in King Michael, who had taken no notice of his little -cousin save to tease her with reminiscences of their childhood which -made her blush painfully. Usk, whose Welsh blood had boiled under the -calmly inquiring glance turned upon him by the new-comer, was glad -enough to follow Helene to the piano, where she tried over the -accompaniments of various songs, and played now and then a few bars of -one musical composition or another, “just to encourage conversation,” -as she put it. -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t you hate him?” she inquired presently, under cover of the -music, with a turn of her head in the direction of the visitor. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t much like his looks,” Usk agreed. -</p> - -<p> -“He may say that he lost his train from Monte Carlo, but I am quite -certain that he stayed at the tables too long on purpose.” -</p> - -<p> -“But that seems rather aimless, doesn’t it?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, he wished to be rude. I don’t know why, but I am certain it was -that. He makes me—I forget the word—quake? quiver?—all over when he -comes near.” -</p> - -<p> -“He grues you, does he? So he does me.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am so glad, because it shows it is not a fancy of mine. Do you know -what I think it is? Look at him through the leaves of that palm; see -how smooth he is, how well-brushed—is not that the phrase? Then think -of him as he would look without his beard. I have seen a picture of -him when he was much younger in his cousin Sonya’s album, and oh! it -was such a cruel face. I call him the Tartar—you know the saying, -<i>Grattez le Scythe, et vous trouverez</i>——? It amuses mamma very much, -but she told me not to tell papa. He would be displeased.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t think I would tell the Grand-Duke either,” suggested Usk, -half-pityingly. Could the child be so blind as not to see what the -presence of the Scythian Prince at this family gathering portended? -</p> - -<p> -“Oh no, I should not think of it. And besides, when he comes near me, -I can never talk at all. I feel like a mouse in a trap, and I can only -say yes and no. You know that he married one of my cousins? She died -before they had been married a year, and I believe”—her voice -dropped, and her eyes sought Usk’s with a haunting horror in -them—“that he killed her.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh no!” Usk felt compelled to say. “Why should he?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t mean that he murdered her with a dagger or with poison. I -should think it would be enough to kill any one to see that face and -that sneer always opposite them. And they wanted her to enter the -Orthodox Church, and she refused; and I don’t think he would be very -kind if his wishes were opposed, would he? Oh, it was brave of her, -poor Leopoldine! I should have surrendered, I know. I should be too -frightened to hold out.” -</p> - -<p> -“I say, you know,” said Usk awkwardly, “perhaps you’re misjudging him. -He mayn’t be as bad as he looks.” -</p> - -<p> -Helene shook her head. “It is the feeling his presence gives me,” she -said. “Now, there is Michael. I dislike him, but I am not afraid of -him. He is like a big boy who tortures flies for sport, not thinking. -The Grand-Duke Ivan would do it for the sake of cruelty. And there is -the Emperor Sigismund. Every one says how hard he is, but he is not -cruel. He is always kind to me. He used to call me his little kitten, -and I could always persuade him to do what I wanted. That was when I -was a little girl, of course.” -</p> - -<p> -Usk was silent, lost in amazement at this new light upon the character -of the Hercynian ruler. Helene was looking through a pile of music. -</p> - -<p> -“Ah!” she said. “This is what you in England call the Wedding March; -is it not so? Shall I startle them all by playing it in Michael’s -honour? It seems quite certain that he is to marry Sonya Eugenova. -Cousin Ottilie was calling on mamma to-day, and told us so much about -them both.” -</p> - -<p> -“No doubt the Princess of Dardania would know more about it than any -one else,” said Usk drily, “but,” he added, unhappy recollections of -his own coming to the surface again, “it would be a pity to -congratulate the King too soon.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then shall I play it for you?” she asked suddenly. “Cousin Ottilie -told us you were betrothed to a beautiful American girl. I hope I -shall see her. Michael knows her family, does he not? Mamma said he -was a good deal at their villa.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, please don’t,” said Usk hurriedly, laying his hand upon hers as -she was about to begin. “As you have heard so much, I can explain -things to you which I couldn’t to any one else. We are not exactly -engaged—at least, you know, I would give anything to be, but she -won’t have it. It’s—it’s just that she doesn’t like to be bound, you -know. Of course she thinks I should try to monopolise her, and she -would find it awfully dull.” -</p> - -<p> -Helene’s face, as she sat at the piano, wore an expression of -disapproval. “I don’t understand,” she said. “She has not refused -you—no? And yet she will not bind herself? But this is not treating -you honourably.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I don’t mind,” Usk assured her, with involuntary mendacity. -“She’s—she’s an American, you know, and American girls like to be -free above all things. I don’t want her to refuse me at all. I’m quite -content to wait until she is willing——” -</p> - -<p> -“To be betrothed? But why should she prefer freedom to becoming your -bride?” Usk felt some astonishment, until he remembered that she was -using the word in the German sense. “Surely she would receive far -greater consideration, besides having the right to your escort -everywhere, and all the respect you would naturally show her?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, it’s not that.” Usk felt helpless to explain the points involved. -“An American girl gets all the consideration she wants anyhow, and -that’s all there is going, or she’ll know the reason why. And you see -she would much rather have different men to take her about than me -always.” -</p> - -<p> -“I do not understand,” said Helene coldly, rising as she spoke. “It -seems to me that you ought not to allow her to treat you with such -insult. She cannot be a high-minded girl.” -</p> - -<p> -“What next?” thought Usk in amazement, as he put out the piano-lights -before following her. The party was breaking up by this time, and -Helene bade him good-night with freezing coldness. He was at a loss to -know how he had offended her, especially when he noticed that in -saying farewell to his uncle she handed him, with a deep blush and a -look of entreaty, a morocco-bound book. The Grand-Duchess laughed -pleasantly. -</p> - -<p> -“What, Lenchen, that absurd album of yours again?” she said. “Don’t -give yourself any trouble about it, Count, I beg of you. Every one -spoils this child by being too kind to her.” -</p> - -<p> -“What is it, Cyril?” asked the Queen curiously, when they had reached -their own <i>appartement</i>. Cyril flung the book on the table with a -groan, and his wife and Usk laughed when they saw that it was lettered -“Confession Album.” -</p> - -<p> -“What is there about me that impels romantic little girls to let me in -for things of this sort?” he demanded. “I thought Philippa said that -these wretched books had gone out years ago, but it seems some -malignant cousin brought your niece this one from England, and my -feelings are to be butchered to make a holiday for her.” -</p> - -<p> -“Poor little Lenchen!” sighed the Queen. “I am glad you were kind to -her, Cyril.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, poor little girl! If Michael was her last chance of escape from -Ivan Petrovitch, I’m afraid it’s a bad look-out.” -</p> - -<p> -“He took pains to show that he was not at all attracted to her,” said -the Queen, in a low voice. “I suppose it was as well to make it plain, -but——” -</p> - -<p> -“The unfortunate parents were doubly snubbed,” said Cyril. “It was -quite clear that Ivan Petrovitch saw he would only be welcomed as a -son-in-law if Michael disappointed them, and he showed his resentment -by arriving late. I don’t envy his future relations-in-law, I must -say.” -</p> - -<p> -“The poor little girl herself hates him,” said Usk. -</p> - -<p> -Cyril looked up quickly. “Did she confide that to you? Confidences of -that sort are dangerous. It is discreet to forget them at once.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m not likely to hand it on to the Grand-Duke Ivan, at any rate. And -talking of confidences, the Princess of Dardania seems to have been -indulging in a good many this afternoon.” -</p> - -<p> -“On matrimonial matters? So we heard. Perhaps you don’t know that she -was asked to join the family dinner-party, and refused on account of -the company she would meet—otherwise you and me?” -</p> - -<p> -“No,” said the Queen calmly; “she could not bring herself to meet me.” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Ernestine—your own cousin! Ah, I see. Because you had -degraded yourself by stooping to me—was that it?” -</p> - -<p> -The Queen looked at him searchingly. “Raised myself, rather,” she -said. “Yes, that is no doubt the reason, Cyril.” -</p> - -<p> -“I see the book Nicholson wanted has come. I think I’ll take it in to -him and see how he is,” said Usk, who felt himself slightly <i>de trop</i>. -From his brother-in-law Mansfield he had gathered the idea that the -Princess Dowager of Dardania would at one time not have scorned to -marry Cyril herself, but he knew his uncle well enough to be certain -that no word would ever pass his lips on the subject. -</p> - -<p> -“Ottilie is determined that Michael shall marry Sonya,” said the -Queen, when he had gone out. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes; it was considerate of her to call and quench any hopes that the -poor Schwarzwald-Molzaus might be cherishing. I shall be curious to -see if she tries anything of the kind upon Félicia.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t think she would regard her as a serious rival to Sonya.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then she would be very much mistaken. The Grand-Duke took the hint I -managed to give him far better than I expected. If his own daughter -had married Michael, it would not have solved our difficulties at all, -for there would still be the money to be found. Little Helene won’t -have more than a few thousands, at the outside, and her father sees -the difficulty. He will make Michael introduce him to Félicia, and -will watch her for a day or two before he takes any decided step. And -Félicia is the kind of girl who will appeal to him by her very -audacity. She will surprise and amuse him, and calmly ignore his -prejudices when that unfortunate little Helene would be cowering in -terror.” -</p> - -<p> -“Cyril, did it strike you? If we could get rid of Ivan Petrovitch, -there is Usk. Of course, I mean if Michael insists on marrying -Félicia.” -</p> - -<p> -“Usk marry Helene? My dear Ernestine, may I ask you to keep that idea -to yourself? If it came to pass, I should never leave Europe alive.” -</p> - -<p> -“Cyril, what do you mean? What difference could it make?” -</p> - -<p> -“Simply that I should have become too powerful. You know me as I -really am, dearest, a broken-down cobbler, patching things clumsily -together. But to Scythia, which means Soudaroff, I am a plotter of the -most dangerous type, at the head of a widespread conspiracy for -establishing myself as ruler of Palestine, and bent on strengthening -my position by royal alliances. You know, and I know, that when we -quit Europe it will be to return to Sitt Zeynab and not leave it -again, but end our days there in peace, away from the politics which -nowadays I can’t touch without spoiling. But Soudaroff thinks, and -very naturally too, after all the pains that have been taken to -impress it upon him, that my leaving will be the sign for a desperate -attempt—which he, knowing me as I was, believes will be -successful—to oust the Scythian garrison from Jerusalem. If I have -the additional support of the Schwarzwald-Molzau influence behind me, -as he would infer if Usk was allowed to marry Helene, surely it is -clear that his only chance is to put me out of the way?” -</p> - -<p> -“Cyril, you terrify me. Let us leave things to settle themselves, and -go back to the desert at once.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, no; we’ll see the young folks out of the wood if we can. Though -how we are to get things settled if Usk refuses to bring Félicia to -book, I don’t know.” -</p> - -<p> -Usk, in the meantime, had gone to Nicholson’s rooms, and found the -invalid sitting up in bed, his bright eyes looking ghastly by contrast -with his hollow cheeks. -</p> - -<p> -“Thought you’d be coming in,” he said, “and I wouldn’t lie down, for -fear I should go to sleep, though Jenkins has been at me incessantly. -Look here; I wanted to show you this.” -</p> - -<p> -He held out the page of a newspaper, which had the unfamiliar look -peculiar to English printed with French type. It was one of the -ephemeral society sheets which spring up once or twice a season in the -larger health resorts, and after enjoying a brief <i>succès de -scandale</i>, suddenly sink out of existence. Usk looked at the passage -to which he pointed:— -</p> - -<p> -“Tuesday’s Carnival procession was quite the best and most fashionably -attended of late years, and bearers of nearly every well-known name in -Europe took part in it or were among the spectators. Observed of all -observers were the ‘Famille Pierrot en deuil,’ comprising two ladies -and two gentlemen attired in Pierrot costumes with deep black borders. -The idea was most cleverly carried out, down to the black pompons -which adorned the white sugar-loaf hats of the two Pierrettes; and -universal admiration was attracted by the <i>abandon</i> with which the -wearers threw themselves into all the fun of the occasion. It is -whispered that one of the Pierrots was the youthful monarch of a -Balkan State, whose whole-hearted gaiety has given great delight to -Nice this season; and that the ladies were the fascinating American -tenants of one of the florally-named villas in the Croix de Marbre, -whom he honours with a good deal of his society.” -</p> - -<p> -“Rather suggestive of your friends of the Villa Bougainvillea,” -chuckled Nicholson, coughing as he spoke. -</p> - -<p> -“This thing ought to be prosecuted,” said Usk wrathfully. “Or who -edits it, do you know?” -</p> - -<p> -“How can I tell? But you can’t horsewhip a man for telling the truth.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s not true! Why——” Usk was happy again—“if they went, they were -to go in mauve dominos. She—one of them—showed me the stuff.” -</p> - -<p> -“Of course she did! And what was to be under the dominos? They were -only for driving. It was when your friends left their carriage that -they would come out as full-blown Pierrettes.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s not true,” repeated Usk, doggedly but hopelessly. “There’s the -book you wanted. Good-night.” -</p> - -<p> -Once more his mind was made up to force an explanation with Félicia. -He had not been near the Villa Bougainvillea since receiving Mrs van -Zyl’s note on the day of the Carnival, for he had determined that -Félicia owed him an apology, and that he would not move without it. -Now, however, he felt he could rest no longer under this uncertainty. -If Félicia had the smallest regard for him or his wishes, she would -not have taken part in the Carnival at all; and if she had no regard -for him, what prospect was there of their living happily together? It -was with these thoughts in his mind that he made his way to the villa -the next morning, as early as he thought Félicia would be likely to -be up. To his astonishment he was ushered into the <i>salon</i>, where Mrs -van Zyl greeted him with a severe expression of countenance. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know whether Félicia will receive you,” she said coldly, -when he had explained that he came to see Miss Steinherz, “but I will -send and ask her, any way.” -</p> - -<p> -An awkward pause ensued, during which Usk endeavoured vainly to make -conversation, wondering the while what was the reason for this -treatment, and Mrs van Zyl eyed him as if he had been a convicted -criminal. Presently, however, she was summoned to the door, and a -whispered colloquy followed, which appeared to have a satisfactory -result, for she went out, and Félicia entered the room. She seemed -the embodiment of injured rectitude as she halted opposite Usk, and -looked him over sternly. -</p> - -<p> -“I guess you’re come to apologise,” she said at last. -</p> - -<p> -“Nothing of the sort. I want an apology from you,” broke out Usk. -</p> - -<p> -“Do tell! You’re the person to ask for apologies, aren’t you?” -</p> - -<p> -“Exactly, and I mean to have one.” -</p> - -<p> -“Am I to apologise because you broke your appointment, and haven’t -been around for two whole days?” -</p> - -<p> -“Considering that you broke the appointment through Mrs van Zyl, and -went to the Carnival, which you had promised you wouldn’t do, I -scarcely thought you would care to see me.” -</p> - -<p> -“And if I told you that Sadie wrote you just to test you, and that I -was waiting for you here all of Tuesday afternoon, what then?” -</p> - -<p> -“I should ask who the two American ladies were from this house who -were at the Carnival with King Michael.” -</p> - -<p> -“I guess Sadie and Maimie are just as good Americans as I am,” said -Félicia languidly. “Well!” she cried, with sudden fire, “if I told -you all that what would you do?” -</p> - -<p> -“I should accept your word, of course.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, how kind! how condescending! Well, then, I just won’t tell you -anything of the sort. You won’t have any word to accept, do you see? -and you can just do as you like.” -</p> - -<p> -“Félicia, you are not treating me fairly!” cried Usk, torn asunder -with doubts. “Tell me you were not at the Carnival, and I will make -any apology you please. You had no right to test me as you say, for I -think I have passed the stage for that sort of thing, but if it was a -test, I failed; I acknowledge that.” -</p> - -<p> -“This is a test, too,” said Félicia calmly. “You promised to trust -me, and I mean to see what your trust is worth. I have suggested an -explanation, and if you don’t choose to accept it, you can just go.” -</p> - -<p> -“Only tell me that you were not at the Carnival.” -</p> - -<p> -“I won’t say a word. And you make out to love me!” -</p> - -<p> -“And I do. If I leave off loving you, it will be because you have -killed my love with your own hands. You know I love you, Fay. Could I -bear the way you treat me if I didn’t? Am I to stand all the tests and -you none? Give me just that one assurance, and you won’t repent it. I -shall be bowed down with shame.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t see but I’d better ring for Jacques to show you out,” -remarked Félicia conversationally, moving towards the bell. -</p> - -<p> -“You don’t care for me! You can’t care for me!” cried Usk. -</p> - -<p> -Félicia turned towards him again. “Solemnly, Usk, if I care for any -one, I care for you, but I won’t be treated that way. I must be -trusted all in all, or not at all. If you can do it, say so, and -stay.” -</p> - -<p> -Her hand was on the bell-rope. Her beautiful eyes looked sadly, -entreatingly at him. There were tears ready to fall. -</p> - -<p> -“I can! I do!” he cried. “Oh, Fay, you are cruel to me!” -</p> - -<p> -“Cruel only to be kind,” said Mrs van Zyl, entering the room just as -Usk’s arms were round Félicia. “I guess you’re in again, Fay? You’ll -stay lunch, Lord Usk? We receive this afternoon.” -</p> - -<p> -The last piece of information was not particularly delightful to Usk, -but he stayed, and was rewarded for abandoning his private judgment by -many tender looks and caressing words from Félicia. A certain amount -of triumph over Maimie was visible in her glance, and Usk guessed -miserably that Maimie had prophesied he would not allow himself to be -cajoled. Even now he felt horribly conscious that he did not believe -in Félicia’s explanation. He had yielded because at the moment the -fear of losing her seemed intolerable, but his submission degraded him -in his own eyes. All Félicia’s endeavours to hide his chain with -flowers were useless; she did not love him, and he did not trust her. -</p> - -<p> -Matters were no better when Mrs van Zyl’s guests arrived, and he had -no longer to keep up the dreary pretence which Félicia insisted on -treating as solid reality. He did his duty in helping to hand round -tea and cake, finding seats for elderly ladies, and making up sets for -croquet, but the company was not to his taste, although it was evident -that Félicia found it very much to hers. Once more he noticed the -change in her. At Llandiarmid she had been merely the shadow of her -real self, perversely critical or genuinely languid, but now she had -recovered the health and good spirits which had been so noticeable -before her father’s death. The well preserved, tightly buttoned, -barons and counts who owed allegiance to the other American women -present crowded round her, and competed for her smiles with rival -sallies of wit, and the weary cosmopolitans forgot to talk of such an -one’s score and some one else’s bad luck. She held her court among -them, listening to their deftly turned compliments with an -indifference which was almost contemptuous, until the splendid eyes -would all at once be lifted lazily, and a comment be -uttered—sometimes only a single word—which set all her hearers -laughing. She could hold her own with ease even when her indifference -piqued them all to unite against her. Still reclining with half-veiled -eyes in her hammock, she would annihilate half her assailants at once -with a single sally, and then dispose of the rest by a few crisp -sentences in succession. It was perfect, Usk saw. No wonder these -fellows were attracted and amused, and yet—and yet—what was to be -the outcome of it all? Was it possible for Félicia—even if she ever -intended to marry him—to be happy as his wife? Morbidly awake now to -her methods and aims, he found no pleasure in the fact that King -Michael had not put in an appearance all day, but rather a reason for -her restoration of himself to favour. In spite of his protestations to -his uncle, he was occupying now the most degraded of all positions, -that of a stalking-horse employed to pique the other man into renewing -his attentions. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch12"> -CHAPTER XII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">MURDERED FAITH.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -“<span class="sc">We</span> really ought to buy something at the refreshment-stall,” said -the Grand-Duchess; “but what is one to do with cakes in a hotel?” -</p> - -<p> -“We might have tea here instead,” said Queen Ernestine. “Usk, perhaps -you can find us a table in a quiet corner?” -</p> - -<p> -A bazaar was being held on behalf of some object connected with the -English church, and the Queen, escorted by Usk, had met the -Grand-Duchess of Schwarzwald-Molzau and her daughter making the round -of the stalls. One of the lady members of the committee, who was -hovering at the Queen’s heels with the view of directing her attention -to the most desirable, and expensive, articles on each stall, heard -the remark about tea, and appeared suddenly in front of the party, her -whole aspect eloquent of a desire to be addressed. -</p> - -<p> -“Perhaps you can help us, Miss Waverley?” said the Queen, with a -smile. “We should like to find a table a little more private than this -one.” -</p> - -<p> -“I can show you the very place, Ma’am,” replied Miss Waverley -breathlessly. “There is a little nook here where your Majesty can see -all that goes on without being seen, if your—if the gentleman will -just help me to move this table.” -</p> - -<p> -“Which of us is anxious to see all that is to be seen?” asked the -Queen, as Miss Waverley hurried away to order the tea. “I think it -must be you, Helene. Sit here, dear, where you can watch the people. -Do put those parcels on the floor, Usk, and sit down.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m trying to decide whether Miss Waverley takes me for your equerry -or your footman,” said Usk. “In either case she will be very much -scandalised if she catches me sitting down. I think I had better -receive the things from her and present them. Does your Majesty wish -to be served on the knee?” -</p> - -<p> -“I wish you to sit down in the place that is left for you, and to -amuse the Princess Helene while her mother and I have a talk.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ma’am, I obey,” and Usk took the seat pointed out to him. “How will -your Grand-Ducal Highness please to be amused?” he asked of Helene. -</p> - -<p> -“Why are you talking in this way? It is not at all like you,” she said -wearily, and he noticed that the pale little face looked thinner, and -that the eyes were heavy. “Why should you make this pretence?” -</p> - -<p> -“Because the world is full of pretence, and we can’t get away from -it,” he answered, bitterly enough. Her eyes sought his face in a -moment. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I am sorry,” she said quickly. “I ought to have known that there -was something wrong. I see it in your eyes.” -</p> - -<p> -“I had rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind. But I might say -the same thing to you. Something has gone wrong, hasn’t it?” -</p> - -<p> -“Ivan Petrovitch has found out that I call him the Tartar, and papa is -so angry. He made me apologise to him.” -</p> - -<p> -“And how did he take it?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, as one would expect. He only said smoothly, ‘I hope the Princess -Helene will think better of me when she has more opportunity of -judging,’ but his voice made me shiver. What did he mean?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, you know,” said Usk, as her eyes met his again with that look -of horror in them, “I told you——” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t say you told me it was a foolish thing to do. I know it, but I -am quite unhappy enough without that.” She sat looking out between the -draperies which shaded their corner, but her eyes seemed to see -nothing of the gay room and the busy people. Then she turned suddenly -to Usk again. “I am very rude and absent of mind,” she said. “You must -forgive me, please. I wanted to tell you that I saw your beautiful -lady yesterday.” -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Steinherz?” growled Usk. -</p> - -<p> -“Who else could it be? She is very, very beautiful, and her beauty is -uncommon—original—how shall I say it?—witchlike?—oh no, that has a -bad meaning in English, has it not? Spirit-like? ah, that is it. She -is an Undine—before she had found her soul, of course.” -</p> - -<p> -“Why do you say ‘of course’?” asked Usk. Helene started. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I beg your pardon. What could I have been thinking of? Please -forgive me, I ought not to have said such a thing. It was merely a -silly thought of mine. Do forget it, please.” -</p> - -<p> -“I think it was the truth,” said Usk bitterly. “At least, if she has a -soul, I have not found it, but I don’t think she has.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, don’t say that. She is so beautiful.” -</p> - -<p> -“Judge for yourself. I have fought against it a long time, but now it -is forced upon me. She does not love me, and only tolerates me near -her to make another man jealous.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh no, no!” Her tone was sharp with pain. “You love her, and yet you -can say this to me—almost a stranger!” -</p> - -<p> -“I have not dared to say it to myself before, but it’s better to face -it,” was the stubborn reply. “I oughtn’t to sadden you with it, I -know, but I can’t talk to my uncle and aunt about it.” -</p> - -<p> -“It will not sadden me, if I can help you. See, you have misunderstood -Miss Steinherz, have you not? She conceals her love, perhaps, she is -shy and proud? Perhaps even she coquets with you; she shows kindness -to another suitor for the sake of teasing you? That is foolish, it is -even wrong; but the heart is there, and loves you. You do not -understand women very much, perhaps? So often they think it -undignified, unwise, to let the love they truly have be seen. That is -it, is it not? not—not what you say. A good woman could not act in -that way, and she must be a good woman if you have chosen her to love -out of all the world.” -</p> - -<p> -“I wish I could think so!” said Usk, in a tone of such misery that -Helene’s eyes filled with tears. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, if only I could help you!” she said. “I can only pray—pray that -the good God will show you her heart full of love for you, that you -may learn how you have misjudged her. Think how you will be obliged to -humble yourself before her when you discover the truth!” -</p> - -<p> -“I shouldn’t mind that,” said Usk, with the ghost of a smile. -</p> - -<p> -“I’m afraid our tea-party won’t add very largely to the profits of the -refreshment-stall,” said the Grand-Duchess. “I think we have eaten one -cake of five centimes between us. Lenchen, darling, you are -over-tired. Eat one of these cream-cakes, to please me.” -</p> - -<p> -“I can’t, mamma. I am not hungry.” -</p> - -<p> -“I can give them a five-franc piece, if you like, madame,” suggested -Usk, “and ask them to add the change to their profits.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, that is a good idea. And if you see our <i>chasseur</i>, Lord Usk, -perhaps you will kindly tell him to call up the carriage.” -</p> - -<p> -Neither Queen Ernestine nor Usk spoke much as they returned to the -hotel, for both were thinking of the conversation at the tea-table; -but as soon as Usk had put down his parcels, and betaken himself to -Nicholson’s rooms, the Queen turned impulsively to her husband. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Cyril,” she said, “they are going to sacrifice that poor child!” -</p> - -<p> -“Little Helene? Is it all settled?” -</p> - -<p> -“They have not told her yet, but I can’t help thinking that she begins -to perceive the truth. There is a look in her eyes——” -</p> - -<p> -“But why doesn’t the Grand-Duchess break it to her, and let her have -time to get accustomed to the idea?” -</p> - -<p> -“She is afraid. The child has such a horror of Ivan Petrovitch that -Adelheid thinks it would nearly kill her. She has always been so -delicate, you know.” -</p> - -<p> -“But it will be much worse, surely, if it comes upon her suddenly?” -</p> - -<p> -“So I should think, but I can see that Adelheid is afraid both of Ivan -Petrovitch and her husband. Ludwig is bent upon the marriage. He has -never cared very much for Helene; she has always been her mother’s -child. And he thinks he sees the romantic strain coming out in her.” -</p> - -<p> -“No doubt of that, I should say. It is really curious how it reappears -once or twice in a generation.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes; and Ludwig can never forget his cousin Ernest Albrecht, who died -long ago. He was originally intended to marry Adelheid, you know, but -they allowed him, after years of waiting, to resign his rank and -betroth himself to dear Sister Chriemhild at Brutli. Ludwig is -determined never to allow anything of the kind while he is head of the -family.” -</p> - -<p> -“Still, he might find the girl a more attractive husband of her own -rank than that unspeakable Scythian. Has the Grand-Duchess pointed -that out to him?” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, but Ivan Petrovitch is also determined upon the match. I hope I -don’t misjudge him, Cyril—or rather I hope I do, for Helene’s -sake—but it seems to me that he sees the child’s horror of him, and -enjoys it. It gives him actual pleasure to play upon her sensitive -nature, and watch the torture it inflicts upon her.” -</p> - -<p> -“Pah! it makes one sick!” said Cyril, rising hastily, and walking up -and down the room. “But what can we do, Ernestine? We can’t interfere -to prevent a marriage which the girl’s own parents have arranged.” -</p> - -<p> -“I thought you might be able to think of something.” -</p> - -<p> -“Nothing would be any good, except to provide a more eligible suitor, -and where is he to be found? You could hardly wish me to make definite -proposals on Usk’s behalf when he has no eyes for any one but -Félicia?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, certainly not. Besides, Ludwig would not think him at all -eligible. I only wish he might. It is wonderful how Helene has taken -to him. She seems to open out like a flower in the sunshine. Adelheid -was quite delighted at first, but to-day she asked me to arrange that -they should not meet much. She is afraid that Ludwig might think they -were falling in love.” -</p> - -<p> -“Really these complications seem hopeless. I suppose Usk will see -before long that Félicia is simply fooling him, but I don’t in the -least think he will turn to Helene for consolation. He will be very -hard hit.” -</p> - -<p> -“And the woman who treats him in this way will marry Michael!” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, if she jilts Usk for him, we must infer that she loves -Michael,” said Cyril drily. -</p> - -<p> -“Loves his crown, perhaps. But that is uncharitable. Still, what hope -can there be of her exercising a good influence over him? Oh, Cyril, -isn’t it terrible to see everything going wrong around one, and not to -be able to put it right?” -</p> - -<p> -“I thought you believed that, after all, things were better managed -than you could arrange them yourself?” -</p> - -<p> -“I know. I am wrong to be so faithless. But one cannot see how all -this is to end.” -</p> - -<p> -<br/> -</p> - -<p> -Usk walked away from the Villa Bougainvillea with bent head and -compressed lips, and crossing the Avénue de la Gare, took the -direction of the Cornice Road. Félicia had befooled him once more. It -was arranged that he should come to the Villa at a certain time in the -afternoon, as he had done each day since their reconciliation, more -with the object of asserting his rights than because he felt any -special pleasure in Félicia’s society. To-day, as he approached the -house, he had caught a distant glimpse of a motor-car dashing off in -the opposite direction, and it was hardly with surprise that he heard -the servant say that madame and mademoiselle were not at home. There -was a meaning look in the man’s eyes, and for a moment Usk thought of -asking him where the ladies were. But he rejected with disgust the -idea of bribing a servant to spy upon Félicia, and moreover, there in -the drive were the marks of the wheels of the automobile, conclusive -evidence. Conscious that the man was watching his face with malicious -interest, he remarked merely that he would look in again later, and -walked slowly down the steps with head erect. But when he was out of -sight of the door, he gave up the pretence, and his pace quickened -insensibly. He must walk on and on until he was away from every one, -and could think over this last treachery and all that it implied. -Crowded streets and close-set houses, villas in gardens, desolate -building-land with straggling beginnings of avenues and terraces here -and there—they were all passed at last, and he was breasting the -slope of the mountain. Past the Observatory, up a farther ascent, and -he came upon a quiet spot enough, though four roads met there. He left -the road and plunged into the wilderness of low scented bushes, hating -the perfume they gave out as he crashed through them. Mounting a -hillock, he found a spot bare of bushes, and flung himself on the -turf, invisible to any one passing along the road. For a time he could -only lie there writhing in impotent passion, digging his feet into the -ground, and tearing up handfuls of grass and tiny flowers and flinging -them away. The instinct of destruction was strong upon him. He loathed -the beauties round him and the beauty outspread in front—the long -slopes clad in every shade of green, grey-green of olives, light-green -of carob, dark-green of orange and lemon-trees, bright-green of -pistachio, stretching down to the almost painful blue of the sea, from -which the eye sought relief gladly in the white of the town opposite -and the grey of the castle crowning the hill above the harbour. It -gave him no pleasure, even when the breeze ruffled the olives suddenly -into silver, and revealed gleams of gold among the orange-groves. He -hated the whole prospect for its very beauty. It was like Félicia, -beautiful, changeful, cruel. -</p> - -<p> -After a time the keenness of the pain which possessed him became a -little dulled, and he found himself resolving upon his future course. -To depart at once from Nice, leaving a scathing letter of farewell for -Félicia, was the plan which suggested itself first, but it was -obviously incomplete. He had realised now that he had nothing to hope -for from her in the way either of justice or tenderness, and it would -be a mistake to allow her to declare that he had gone away in a fit of -jealousy without giving her a chance of explaining matters. No, he -must see her again, distasteful as the thought was. She would try, no -doubt, to entangle him again in her sophistries, to wind him round -with that net of cajolery into which he had walked with his eyes open, -but this time it would be in vain. Never in his life had he felt so -miserable, so degraded, as during the past week, when Félicia had -been everything that was tender and affectionate. He had deteriorated -morally since he had condoned her faithlessness for the sake of her -beauty and her fascinations, but he was not the man to regard such -deterioration with equanimity. He would free himself from the toils -and turn his back upon Félicia for ever, returning to England wiser, -if poorer, robbed, as it seemed, of one whole side of his life. He had -no doubt as to his own course, but he must make it clear to Félicia -that he was leaving her finally—must place the issues before her so -plainly that she could not evade them or wriggle out of her -responsibility. -</p> - -<p> -How this was to be done was the question. The moral agony through -which he had passed seemed to have blunted his mental powers. His -reasonings ended abruptly, as though he had come suddenly to a blank -wall or fallen from a height; and though he struggled with himself, he -could not arrive at any decision. He was still lying on the turf, -utterly spent, his hands gripping the clods he had torn up, when a -voice behind him said, “Lord Usk!” -</p> - -<p> -He turned angrily and sprang to his feet, enraged that any one should -have observed him in this dark hour. Behind him stood a tall lady very -elaborately dressed in black. Her face, with its strongly marked -features and dark eyes, was handsome, though worn, and her abundant -black hair was still without a thread of grey. Usk knew her well. She -was the Princess Dowager of Dardania, who had shown a good deal of -interest in his sister Philippa and himself two years since at -Ludwigsbad. -</p> - -<p> -“I must apologise for intruding upon you,” said the Princess, as he -stood speechless, “but I saw you from my windows—with a -telescope,”—she pointed to a house just discernible among the trees -on one of the upper slopes,—“and I ventured to follow you. Perhaps -you would not mind coming a little lower down the hill? There is a -spot where we can be quite sheltered from observation, and I should -not like the dear young friend for whose sake I am here to know what I -had done.” -</p> - -<p> -Usk obeyed in silence. Speech seemed to have forsaken him, and he -could only follow the Princess, and sit down on the turf opposite her, -as her gesture invited him to do. -</p> - -<p> -“We need not beat about the bush,” she said. “You, like me, have a -particular interest just now in King Michael of Thracia,—I because -his fickleness is breaking the heart of the dear girl who is my one -comfort, you because he has chosen for the time being to set his -affections upon your <i>fiancée</i>.” -</p> - -<p> -Usk bowed, and opened his lips to speak, but the Princess held up her -hand. -</p> - -<p> -“Wait, if you please. I sympathise with you sincerely, but chiefly for -reasons with which you are not at present acquainted. Bad as his -conduct is, Michael is not wholly to blame. He is inspired by others, -who have taken advantage of his weakness of character to serve their -own ends. Don’t interrupt me,” as Usk, who began to see whither this -was tending, raised his head again, “but listen. The whole affair is -the work of your uncle, Count Mortimer. I don’t say that he is working -for his own aggrandisement in any vulgar sense, but with his incurable -instinct of intrigue, he has seen how to reap advantage from Michael’s -inconstancy.” -</p> - -<p> -“Before you go any further, madame,” said Usk firmly, “I may as well -tell you that nothing you can say will make me doubt my uncle’s good -faith.” -</p> - -<p> -An angry shadow crossed the Princess’s face. “Perhaps you will at -least have the politeness to hear what I have to say before you -decline to believe it,” she said. “I am doing Count Mortimer all -possible justice, and distinguishing him absolutely from the common -herd of adventurers, when I say that the prospect of securing Miss -Steinherz’s millions in his own family had no charms for him. It was -much too simple and obvious. But when the preposterous claim which the -young lady has chosen to put forward came to his knowledge, then he -saw an opening for his peculiar talents. You do not need me to tell -you that Miss Steinherz’s claim is utterly hopeless, judged by the -family laws of the houses both of Albret and Hohenstaufen. The -marriage in London is invalid on the face of it, and of the asserted -marriage at Vindobona not a single witness has come forward. Even if -it could be proved to have taken place, it was invalid without the -sanction of the Emperor and the King of Cantabria, as well as of the -Pope. But strange things are sometimes done in the name of expediency, -and your uncle thinks that for the sake of her millions Miss Steinherz -might possibly be admitted into a family which is in chronic want of -money, to settle a difficulty which demands large sums. Here, then, is -the state of the case. Michael, engaged to my dear Sonya, whose dowry -would put an end to all his difficulties, is deliberately exposed to -the charms of Miss Steinherz, who is betrothed to you, and he -succumbs, but cannot marry her since she is not of royal blood. Now -steps in Count Mortimer. To provide Michael with a bride of German -descent, and furnish the needed money without expense to the Three -Powers, will give him a claim on their gratitude, which is just what -he needs for the furtherance of his private ends. Your love, your -interests, have no part in his scheme. He does not broach his idea -until Miss Steinherz’s claim has been definitely rejected by the house -of Albret, and then he approaches the Emperor, his constant patron in -the past. The Grand-Duke of Schwarzwald-Molzau is sent to report on -the affair. You have wondered, perhaps, why King Michael has absented -himself for nearly a week from the Villa Bougainvillea, while you have -been received there. It was simply because the Grand-Duke was sending -his report to Vindobona, and waiting for the answer. To-day it has -arrived, and he is authorised to see Miss Steinherz and find out what -extent of recognition will satisfy her. You have still time, but only -just time, to put an end to the affair. If Miss Steinherz is satisfied -with the acknowledgment that her father was morganatically married, -she will receive no more, naturally, and Michael cannot marry her. If -she stood alone she would not get that; but in view of her betrothal -to you, I think it might be conceded. But the idea is that the -marriage shall be retrospectively recognised as fully legal, and the -girl raised by letters-patent to the status of a Princess of Arragon; -and things have gone so far now that you can only prevent this through -your uncle.” -</p> - -<p> -“And how is that to be worked, madame?” -</p> - -<p> -“Go straight to Count Mortimer, and tell him”—her nostrils dilated, -and there was something tigerish about her mouth—“that every detail -of his plot for establishing himself in Palestine is in my hands. I -know of everything, down to the penny subscription among the poorest -of those he has deluded to purchase a crown and royal robes for the -‘Prince of the Captivity,’ as they call him. The whole proceedings at -every meeting of the conspirators are reported to me, their agents are -known and followed everywhere. If he renounces this marriage project -of his I will take no further steps. When Michael marries Sonya I can -afford to laugh at Count Mortimer and his puny tricks in the East. But -if he goes on I will hand over all my information immediately to -Prince Soudaroff, and he may guess how much hope he has of success, -even of safety, after that. There is my message, which will restore -happiness to you, and also to the poor girl who is breaking her heart -for Michael. Will you deliver it?” -</p> - -<p> -“I will deliver it to Count Mortimer, madame.” -</p> - -<p> -“You exhibit no superabundant gratitude, Lord Usk. Surely if I restore -you your bride and her fortune, and also give you the opportunity of -saving your uncle from the consequences of his own imprudence, I -deserve thanks, at least?” -</p> - -<p> -Usk smiled involuntarily. It did not seem to strike the Princess that -he could have any hesitation in marrying Félicia, although Félicia -was moving heaven and earth to enable her to marry King Michael. -Probably her fortune was expected to obviate any distaste he might -feel. -</p> - -<p> -“Surely, madame, success and the applause of your own conscience would -be reward enough?” -</p> - -<p> -“Your uncle has been speaking against me!” she cried angrily. -</p> - -<p> -“Indeed, madame, I have never heard him express anything but the -highest possible admiration for your talents.” -</p> - -<p> -“You are too polite. It would be well not to imitate your uncle too -closely in his cleverness, lest you should do so also in his fate. Is -it allowable to ask what you intend to do about Miss Steinherz?” -</p> - -<p> -“I have not made up my mind, madame. But I shall not forget to deliver -your message. May I have the honour of escorting you home?” -</p> - -<p> -She declined the offer with a gesture, and, descending into the road, -walked slowly towards the house in the trees, while Usk turned his -steps again towards Nice. This new information gave him the crowning -test of which he had vaguely felt the need. After all, it was just -possible that Félicia might even now care for him enough to decide in -his favour rather than lose him altogether, and she should determine -matters for herself. The hour of struggle on the hill-top had not been -wasted, for he had made his decision. He would not be her slave any -longer. -</p> - -<p> -Félicia gave a little scream when he was suddenly announced at the -Villa. She was in a small upstairs sitting-room, which was sacred to -her and Maimie, and she was wearing a black gown with white ruffles, -which gave her a most incongruously Puritan look. Usk’s lip curled in -spite of himself as he saw that her hair was dressed to correspond -with the gown, for it was evident that she was ready to receive the -Grand-Duke. Maimie, no doubt, had suggested the pose, so well carried -out, of the daughter only lately bereaved, turning wistfully for -consolation to her dead father’s family. Usk himself knew too much to -be anything but an intruder at this moment. -</p> - -<p> -“I wasn’t just expecting you,” Félicia gasped. -</p> - -<p> -“I won’t stay unless you wish it,” he returned. “If you will just tell -me whether you intend to marry King Michael or me, I shall know -whether to go or not.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I can’t tell you right now,” objected Félicia, taken aback, -“because—why——” -</p> - -<p> -“Because you don’t know. You’ll marry Michael if you can get him, and -if not, then you’ll put up with me. But I don’t care for being put up -with, and if you mean to think of Michael still, I will go.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, then, you’re just horrid!” cried Félicia angrily. “I guess -I’ve told you ’most a dozen times that I like you best, but if I’m a -princess I must marry according to my rank.” -</p> - -<p> -“Won’t do, Fay. If you stick to me I’ll stick to you, princess or no -princess; but if not, I prefer to depart now rather than later.” -</p> - -<p> -There were genuine tears in Félicia’s eyes. “You won’t understand, -Usk,” she said, “and I don’t see but it must seem strange to you. I -don’t pretend to be romantic—American girls aren’t generally that, I -guess—but I like you, really. If they reject my claim after all, I’ll -just settle down real happily with you, and you’ll forget all of -this.” -</p> - -<p> -“And if they acknowledge it, you’ll settle down happily with me all -the same?” -</p> - -<p> -Félicia looked down. “I guess I won’t just have things in my own -hands then,” she said. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh yes, you will, if you choose. If you’re engaged to me, I’ll take -good care that you don’t marry any one else.” -</p> - -<p> -“You don’t know the temptation of a crown, Usk,” said Félicia softly. -</p> - -<p> -“I know my father tried it, and was jolly glad to give it up.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, your father!” The tone was eloquent. “But for me, Usk!” -</p> - -<p> -“Very well; if you prefer your crown, say so, and I’ll go.” -</p> - -<p> -“You’re real tiresome, fussing me like this. Do just wait a little.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not another hour,” said Usk. -</p> - -<p> -“Say, Fay!” Maimie burst into the room, “come right down; the -Grand-Duke’s here. Don’t stop to prink. That gown is just distracting -already.” -</p> - -<p> -“Now, Fay, decide,” said Usk. “If you make up your mind to stick to -me, it’s natural for me to be with you when you receive the -Grand-Duke, and to explain to him that we are engaged. If you tell me -you don’t want me to be there, I shall know you are giving me up.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do tell!” cried Maimie. “Who asked you to make conditions, Lord Usk? -Send him off right away, Fay.” -</p> - -<p> -“You said you cared for me,” urged Usk. Félicia wavered. -</p> - -<p> -“Félicia Steinherz, if you give in now I’m done with you,” said -Maimie, and Félicia unhooked Usk’s ring from her bangle, and threw it -at him. -</p> - -<p> -“I just hate you both!” she cried; “but I’ve concluded which to -choose.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch13"> -CHAPTER XIII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub"><i>MALA SORTE.</i></span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -“<span class="sc">Is</span> that you, Usk? Come in. Why, what’s gone wrong?” -</p> - -<p> -“Félicia and I have broken it off. I thought you’d be glad to know.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am interested to hear it. You broke it off, I hope?” -</p> - -<p> -“I suppose you would say it was done by mutual consent,” said Usk -drearily. “I told her to choose between the King and me, and she chose -him.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am glad she has made a definite choice, at any rate,” said his -uncle. “Hard hit, Usk? What do you mean to do.” -</p> - -<p> -“Leave this to-morrow, unless you or Aunt Ernestine want me for -anything.” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, where are you off to?” -</p> - -<p> -“Only to London. My father will be busy with this Bill of his, and I -daresay I can help him a little.” -</p> - -<p> -“Right. Throw yourself into it. Work as hard as you can. But don’t you -think such a sudden departure will seem a little marked?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know. I can’t help it.” Usk wondered why his uncle was -looking at him with such a curious, meditative gaze. “I couldn’t stay -here and meet them every day.” -</p> - -<p> -“I suppose not. The natural instinct is to hide yourself, no doubt. -But don’t give way to it more than you can help. It’ll soon wear off, -and you will find some one who will compensate you for everything.” -</p> - -<p> -“Never!” said Usk, so tragically that Cyril only restrained a smile -with difficulty. “I may marry, to please my father and mother, but I -can never feel again to any woman as I have done to Félicia.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t be too sure. Why, if you stayed on here for a day or two, you -might even find your heart caught at the rebound almost at once.” -</p> - -<p> -“If you knew how I have loved and—and believed in Félicia, you -wouldn’t say that—and I thought she loved me. How could I ever trust -a woman again who said she cared for me? I believe these French -marriages are better, after all. If you don’t love a woman, it can’t -hurt so much when she plays you false.” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Usk, you will allow me to say that you are talking very great -and very youthful nonsense. But I will remember your partiality for -arranged marriages, and possibly I may be able to gratify you at some -future time. And don’t make sweeping statements about women, because -that only shows how young you are. You are prejudiced just now.” -</p> - -<p> -“Prejudiced? I should think I was!” laughed Usk fiercely. “Why, as I -came home just now, I couldn’t see a fellow walking with a girl -without wanting to call out to him that she was making a fool of him.” -</p> - -<p> -“You had better go back to London, certainly, and forswear female -society for the present. It would be brutal to inflict you on any -unfortunate girl while you are in this state of mind. Your aunt will -agree with me, though we shall miss you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, but there’s another thing!” cried Usk, with sudden recollection. -“Don’t you think you had better come home too? The Princess of -Dardania came and spoke to me this afternoon, and gave me a message -for you. She wants the King to marry the girl she’s got staying with -her, you know, and she says if you don’t let him do it, she’ll tell -Prince Soudaroff all your plans.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, she ought to know by this time that Michael will marry to -please himself, and not either her or me.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes; but she thinks you can keep him from marrying Félicia, at any -rate.” -</p> - -<p> -“I see; you were to warn me and have Félicia back? But you went to -her first.” -</p> - -<p> -“It didn’t seem to strike the Princess that I might prefer her to -marry Michael if she wanted him. I didn’t need a bribe to warn you. -She says that all your arrangements are known to her as soon as they -are made, and that she has agents at all your meetings, and that your -life is in danger.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you remembered what I told you at Llandiarmid, and wisely -concluded that the matter was not pressing? Quite right. The Princess -knows only of the sham plot, not of the real one. At all the -headquarters it is arranged who is to act as her tool, and provide her -with carefully edited reports—a sort of bogus information-bureau for -her special benefit. She has not the faintest idea that the plot to -establish me in Palestine is really one to establish Malasorte in -Neustria. To make things safe, in case any genuine spies should be -present, he is always spoken of as Mortimer, and Neustria as -Palestine, and so on—in fact, there is a regular code. So you see she -is quite at fault.” -</p> - -<p> -“But you’re only thinking of your schemes, and I’m thinking of you. If -she and Prince Soudaroff believe in the bogus plot, it’s just as -dangerous for you as if it was genuine. I don’t believe you’re safe -anywhere but in England or at Sitt Zeynab.” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, what should she do—burn the hotel down, or kidnap me? Paschics -and Dietrich and I keep a very good look-out, I can assure you. If I -believed there was actual danger, do you think I would expose my wife -to it?” -</p> - -<p> -“But why not come to England?” -</p> - -<p> -“And leave Michael’s affairs to go wrong again? Now that we have -eliminated you, as I wished, I hope to set them right before very -long. No, don’t be afraid; I shall do my work.” -</p> - -<p> -“If you had seen her face when she spoke of you——” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Usk, I don’t doubt her will to ruin me body and soul, but -merely her power. If she had me anywhere in the wilds of Dardania, -now, with a few half-Roumi retainers within call—but she hasn’t, and -if I can help it, she won’t get the chance. That’s enough.” -</p> - -<p> -Thus dismissed, Usk carried to Queen Ernestine the news of his -approaching departure, and noticed that she looked at him with the -same anxious, questioning glance as his uncle. She said nothing, -however, save to agree that it was better he should go, and he went to -tell Nicholson, who was quite prepared to make a personal grievance -out of the announcement. -</p> - -<p> -“I’m awfully sorry,” said Usk, when a fit of coughing had forced the -invalid to desist from his animadversions upon the vile selfishness -which was about to deprive him of the only man he knew in this -wretched place, “but I really can’t stay. You see, I—I—— Well, I -didn’t know you liked seeing me so much, but I tell you what I’ll do. -I’ll ask my aunt to come and see you sometimes, and that’ll be much -better.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, don’t alter your plans for me,” muttered Nicholson frigidly. “If -your aunt cares to come in, I shall be thankful, and if she doesn’t, I -shan’t be surprised. I shan’t long be a bother to any one, but I never -thought you would go and leave me out here like this.” -</p> - -<p> -Usk felt somewhat guilty, but he reflected that, after all, he had not -brought Nicholson to Nice, and that his visits had never seemed to -give him any particular pleasure. At any rate, he could not bring -himself to alter his determination, for the whole aspect of the place -was hateful to him now. He thought of London mud and fog with absolute -yearning, feeling that this sunlit white and green town with its -fringing blue sea could never be anything but a loathed memory in -future. Idleness was intolerable, and such sports as the Riviera -afforded were not much better. Work was his only hope—to plunge into -it, bury himself in it, and thus to forget the dazzling, disquieting, -bitterly disappointing experiences of the past few months. Therefore -he remained immovable, and, in spite of Nicholson’s fretful -objections, insisted on bringing the Queen to see him the next day. -Nicholson was too ill now to be conscious of the awed satisfaction -that the rank of his visitor would have caused him in his days of -health, but the gracious kindness which had conquered so many hearts -did not fail of its effect with him; and when the Queen had promised -to visit him every day, and talk to him a little if he was well -enough, he was quite ready to let Usk go. Thus relieved of his chief -anxiety, Usk had time to make a farewell call on the Grand-Duke and -Duchess, neither of whom he saw, and then applied himself to the -preparations for his journey. -</p> - -<p> -Late in the afternoon he was on his way to the station, alone, by his -own wish, when he found that his rug had been left behind, and sent -his driver back for it, himself walking on to get his ticket. -Presently a carriage drew up just beyond him, and a resplendent -<i>chasseur</i> came to say that the Grand-Duchess of Schwarzwald-Molzau -would be glad to speak to him if he could spare her a moment. When he -reached the carriage, the Grand-Duchess insisted on giving him a lift -to the station, and talked volubly of the loss his absence would prove -to his uncle and aunt. -</p> - -<p> -“And, indeed, we shall all be so sorry to lose you—shan’t we, -Lenchen?” she turned suddenly to her daughter, who had sat silent -hitherto, leaning back wearily in her place. It struck Usk that if her -face had looked thin the other day, it was now actually pinched and -drawn, and he wondered whether it could be merely the afternoon light -filtering through the fresh foliage of the plane-trees which made her -look so ghastly. Her lips seemed to be moving, but she roused herself -with a start at her mother’s appeal, and Usk felt that there was -strong entreaty in the eyes which met his through her veil as she -answered— -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, we shall all be very sorry.” -</p> - -<p> -Usk felt vaguely uncomfortable. What could she want him to do? She had -blushed violently when his intent gaze showed that he had read her -look, and would not meet his eye again; but when the station was -reached, and he bade her good-bye, he surprised that piteous glance -once more. It haunted him for some time, until at last he thought he -had found a clue to it. -</p> - -<p> -“They’re worrying her to marry that brute Ivan Petrovitch, and she -wanted to have another talk, and relieve her feelings,” he said to -himself. “It’s awfully hard on her, poor little girl! but the -Grand-Duchess is a good-natured old lady, and won’t let her be -badgered into accepting him if she really dislikes him. What a world -it is! One can’t marry the woman he wants, and another is tormented to -marry a man she doesn’t want. The pater and mater won’t tease me to -get married, but I know they’d be awfully pleased if I did—some nice -good little girl with nothing baffling or exciting about her, whose -mind I could read like a book. There are those two Jones girls, now, -the mater would like one of them—be quite her right hand in -pauperising the estate. But I don’t a bit know which of them is which, -and yet they must be quite different, of course. It’ll have to depend -upon which of them I come across first. No, I really think one might -study them a little, even in making a sacrifice of oneself, just to -see which was most suitable. But to have the Reverend Goronwy for a -father-in-law! Why, he’d be always about the Castle. The mater -wouldn’t like that. I think we must get him moved to a distance before -doing anything serious. That’s a respite, anyhow. If the mater is very -miserable about me, I can tell her I’m thinking of one of the Jones -girls, and she’ll be pleased. But I never want to see a girl again. -Hope the Trade will move heaven and earth against the Bill, so that we -may have a rousing time. Only wish it was the Commons—I do bar the -Lords.” -</p> - -<p> -<br/> -</p> - -<p> -“Exit Viscount Usk!” said Maimie, and read aloud from the paper she -was scanning: “‘Viscount Usk left Nice for England on Wednesday. -During the present parliamentary session he will act as private -secretary to his father, the Marquis of Caerleon, to whom, as a -leading light of the Temperance party, it has fallen to pilot the -Anti-Tied-Houses Bill through the House of Lords.’ That ends a -chapter, Fay.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I hope you’re right happy now. You’ve destroyed the one chance -I had of being a good woman, and don’t you forget it.” -</p> - -<p> -“I didn’t know you had aspirations that way; but I guess Lady Caerleon -would receive you with open arms even now if you went back to her -properly penitent.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not I—but I wish I cared for Usk either more or less. If I didn’t -care for him, I wouldn’t mind his going; and if I was really in love -with him, I wouldn’t have had him go.” -</p> - -<p> -“You don’t care for him,” said Maimie decisively. “If you did, a crown -wouldn’t have tempted you. You just felt sort of safe with him, -knowing that he would be kind and fair all the time, whatever you -might do. And just tell me what would have happened if I hadn’t helped -you get rid of him? When the Grand-Duke said he understood you were -betrothed to the son of the Marquis of Caerleon, and that in view of -such an honourable alliance the Emperor might be willing to -acknowledge your father as morganatically married, and give you a -patent of nobility—didn’t that show you where you stood? You were on -the very point of losing everything. If we hadn’t been able to tell -him that there had been some thought of such a thing once, but you had -broken it off because Usk objected to your pressing the claim, you’d -have been just simply left!” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s so,” responded Félicia. “It’s as well to be through with it, -any way. I love that old Grand-Duke—he’s a real nice man.” The liking -was mutual, although Félicia had said things to the Grand-Duke which -would have made Helene’s hair stand on end with horror if she had -heard them. “But I can’t just see why he don’t have his wife and -daughter call on us.” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, it isn’t advisable yet. They can’t treat you as a princess -before you are one, and they’d think you wouldn’t just choose to be -treated as a no-account person. Say, Fay! she’s betrothed—that little -plain girl.” Maimie was still glancing over the paper. “Do you -remember the evil-looking Scythian that was riding in the -Grand-Duchess’s carriage yesterday—the dark man with the beard? -That’s the happy man. ‘A marriage has been arranged, and will take -place at Molzau shortly after Easter, between the Grand-Duke Ivan -Petrovitch of Scythia and the Princess Helene, youngest and only -unmarried daughter of the Grand-Duke and Duchess of -Schwarzwald-Molzau.’” -</p> - -<p> -“Shortly after Easter? Then we won’t see it!” cried Félicia. “I do -think these folks might hustle things a little. To keep me waiting -months this way, and not even let me stay here, is just horrid!” -</p> - -<p> -“But the yacht!” Maimie reminded her. “We’ll have a lovely time these -weeks, and it’ll be real elegant to appear among your new relations in -your own ship.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I don’t know,” said Félicia doubtfully. As delicately as he -could, the Grand-Duke had suggested that pending the decision of the -Emperor and the Prince of Arragon on her claim, it would be well for -her to withdraw herself to a certain extent from the public eye. A -sojourn in some quiet mountain village, whither her fame as an -American heiress would not precede her, and where her footsteps would -not be dogged by reporters, would best suit the views of her father’s -august relations. Maimie, reading between the lines of his speech, saw -that some rumour of the Carnival proceedings and other doings of the -kind had reached him, and forestalled Félicia’s indignant refusal by -suggesting that she should send for the Bluebird, the beautiful -steam-yacht which Mr Steinherz had designed and constructed for -himself, and sailed in all the Western seas, so as to take a short -cruise in the Mediterranean. The idea did not displease Félicia, and -to the Grand-Duke it came as such an evident relief that she could not -refuse to adopt it, especially when she found the yacht could not -reach Nice before Mid-Lent, which would enable her to take part in the -Battle of Flowers and other festivities of the occasion. But there -were details in connection with the proposed cruise which still -rankled in her mind, and again she turned angrily upon Maimie. “And I -do think, Maimie Logan, you might have stood by me, so’s we wouldn’t -have an old school-ma’am trail us along everywhere. It makes me real -mad to be shepherded around that way.” -</p> - -<p> -This referred to a proposal of the Grand-Duke’s that the chaperon on -board the Bluebird should not be Mrs van Zyl, but a lady of the -Pannonian Court, who might give the two girls various useful hints in -case of a change in their position. Félicia, who had delightful -dreams of fluttering the Imperial dovecotes by appearing among her -august relations as a frank and unashamed American, had been horrified -to hear Maimie acquiesce in the suggestion. In ordinary society -anywhere Maimie felt that she could hold her own and guide Félicia, -but on these lofty heights she was at fault, and she had the good -sense to see it. Félicia was more difficult to manage than she had -expected, but at last she succeeded in making her see that any <i>faux -pas</i> on her first introduction would produce a bad impression and -alienate King Michael, and she yielded with a poor enough grace. -</p> - -<p> -“But you save so much time getting at things on the voyage,” Maimie -urged now. -</p> - -<p> -“How does that make up, when I wanted to take a real nice party on -board, and have a good time? It’s nothing but a snub to poor Sadie, I -say.” -</p> - -<p> -“She won’t have you see that she feels it so, any way. She’ll conclude -to keep track of you, with an eye to the future, I know. And I thought -the Grand-Duke fixed it real nicely to have this Baroness Radnika come -and stay at the hotel, so’s you could just fall in love with her, and -invite her to make the cruise with you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, it’s all awfully smart, of course, and I guess Count Mortimer was -somewhere around when it was fixed. But for you and the Grand-Duke -both to insist that I must have this old dowd of a Baroness tag after -me, just because she knew pappa, and can teach me their tricks—why, -it’s the meanest thing out! I’m real thankful there’s the chance of a -frolic or two first. I’ll even up my accounts with you, you bet!” -</p> - -<p> -To Maimie this was sufficiently alarming, and yet, although Félicia -kept her word, and enjoyed herself thoroughly at the Mid-Lent -gaieties, the great and most disagreeable shock which the Battle of -Flowers brought with it was not due to her. As a reward for her -complaisance in withdrawing from the pleasures of society for the -present, she had promised herself the delight of outshining all -possible rivals before she disappeared from view. Her carriage was a -bower of irises in all the delicate shades which the flower presents, -and the occupants were dressed to correspond. Mrs van Zyl’s gown was a -soft harmony in yellow and lavender, Maimie wore white and dark -purple, and Félicia was in the colour she loved best, a clear pale -lilac, emphasised, but not unduly so, by the touches of black velvet -demanded by fashion. The scheme of decoration had been kept a profound -secret, and the “iris carriage” was greeted with shouts of admiration -from end to end of the course. Close at hand rode King Michael, duly -masked, but quite recognisable to the spectators, in a rich -gold-embroidered Thracian dress of two shades of purple. The -understanding which was implied by the correspondence between his -costume and those of the ladies suggested a hint of romance which the -populace were not slow to take, and he shared in the plaudits which -accompanied the carriage in its progress. Maimie felt a little uneasy, -wondering whether his action would be considered premature by his -relations, but before long she was conscious of quite a different -cause for anxiety. Among the mounted men by whom the line of carriages -was every now and then broken was one who seemed to be manœuvring to -place himself near Félicia, endeavouring also to attract her -attention by making his horse prance and curvet. He seemed to be short -of stature, but the close-fitting Mephistopheles dress which he wore, -carried out not in red but in black, set off a peculiarly graceful -figure, and he displayed a complete mastery over his restless steed. -His hair was black, and his eyes, when they could be distinguished -through the holes in his mask, dark and glittering. His mysterious -appearance was well calculated to rouse the curiosity of any one not -absolutely engrossed, as was Félicia, by her carriage, her clothes, -and her prize, and Maimie saw that King Michael was obviously uneasy. -Again and again, when the procession paused for a moment before one of -the tribunes, or when the carriage turned at the end of the course, he -interposed his horse so that the unknown cavalier should not approach -Félicia. His first idea had been that the stranger was his vanquished -rival, Usk, but it was obvious that the Englishman’s broad shoulders -could not possibly be hidden under the black doublet, and he scented a -deeper mystery. Presently another stoppage occurred before one of the -stands, in which sat the Grand-Duke and Duchess of Schwarzwald-Molzau -and the Grand-Duke Ivan Petrovitch. Bouquets were flying fast and -furiously, the air was full of roses, jonquils, violets, mimosa; -shrieks of laughter arose, now from the carriages and now from the -tribune, but King Michael took no part in the fray. In thrusting his -horse between Félicia’s carriage and the unknown rider, he had forced -the latter close to the Scythian Prince, who was staring at him in -astonishment, and presently addressed him in his own language. The -reply which reached King Michael’s ear, “An affair of the heart; you -won’t give me away?” only deepened his suspicions. Presently he was -able to leave Félicia in the safe keeping of his uncle, who asked to -be allowed to occupy the fourth seat in the carriage as it moved on -again, and he leaned over the railing to the Grand-Duke Ivan. -</p> - -<p> -“Who is the black Mephistopheles?” he asked. -</p> - -<p> -“You won’t betray him, I presume? Timoleon Malasorte.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then I was mistaken. I thought it was some one I knew, and I wanted -to play him a trick.” The King spoke with admirable nonchalance, but -he was inwardly perturbed. He knew the story of the Pretender’s -courtship of Félicia, and foresaw a repetition of it, and he blessed -the obtuseness of his uncle, who was enjoying himself hugely as the -butt of all the hardest bouquets, and claiming Félicia’s attention at -every turn. She looked round in vain for some one to deliver her, -while the Grand-Duke was giving her a long account of his daughter’s -obstinate refusal to attend the festivities with her betrothed. The -Grand-Duchess persisted she was ill; but he had been determined she -should go, and would have carried his point if his wife had not called -in a rascally, venal doctor to her aid. Félicia did not find Helene’s -delinquencies at all amusing, but while she sought for help, she did -not happen to glance in the direction of her former suitor. King -Michael returned to his post in the nick of time, and remained at her -side so gallantly for the rest of the afternoon that Malasorte had no -chance of accosting her. Apparently accepting his defeat, the Prince -dropped behind the carriage, but when King Michael saw him next, he -was picking up a spray of white lilac Maimie had dropped, and slipping -something with it into her hand. The King nursed his wrath in silence -until the return to the Villa, when he stopped Maimie as she was -following Félicia upstairs. -</p> - -<p> -“May I trouble you for the note Prince Malasorte gave you for the -Princess Félicia, mademoiselle?” -</p> - -<p> -Maimie stared at him in astonishment. She had not at all decided -whether to give Félicia the letter which Malasorte, relying on her -old friendliness, had entrusted to her, or not, but now she had to -come to a decision at once. What was the exact meaning of Malasorte’s -presence here, where he was at any moment liable to be arrested and -conducted to the frontier? Was he on his way to make himself emperor, -or was it only that he had learnt Félicia’s true descent, and desired -the support her family and fortune could give him in his campaign? -There were many things it would be well to know before determining the -fate of the letter, but here stood King Michael opposite her, holding -out his hand for it. “I guess I won’t jump at the shadow and lose the -substance,” she said to herself, and gave it to him. Somewhat to her -surprise he opened it immediately. -</p> - -<p> -“I am not like that poor fool Usk, to be deceived and hoodwinked, -mademoiselle,” he replied to her amazed look. “I protect myself, and -it appears it is necessary. Do you not think so?” He read from the -note: “‘Meet me at eight to-morrow morning in the garden of the Villa -Bougainvillea. I must speak to you. I have more to lay at your feet -than I had once.—M.’ Has he any ground for believing she would be -willing to meet him?” he demanded, looking Maimie sternly in the face. -</p> - -<p> -“None. She hasn’t a notion that he’s around. We lost sight of him -years back,” she answered, her tone anxious in spite of herself. -</p> - -<p> -“And if he renews his attempt, on which side are you? I wish to know, -that I may lay my plans accordingly. I am not to be tricked, -mademoiselle.” -</p> - -<p> -“On yours,” said Maimie firmly. “I don’t see throwing away all the -trouble and worry we’ve had these last months.” -</p> - -<p> -“You are wise. You will not find me ungrateful, but I beg you to -understand that I trust no one absolutely. To show that I am -favourably disposed towards you, I may tell you that Count Mortimer -has strongly recommended me to see that you are removed from the -household of the Princess before she becomes my wife. I mention this -that you may arrange with her to retain your services, for I find it -desirable to have at hand a trustworthy person with whom I can discuss -matters affecting the Princess which might be disagreeable to herself. -As long as your influence is exerted in compliance with my wishes, -your position in the Court will be secure.” -</p> - -<p> -“And when it’s exerted against your wishes——?” thought Maimie, as he -allowed her to depart. “You scored this time, you consequential little -wretch, but I guess you won’t do it any more. And as for your dear -stepfather, I’ll just count the days until I can punish him. Trying to -part me from Fay, indeed!” -</p> - -<p> -Nothing more was seen or heard of Prince Malasorte just then, and -Maimie guessed that Félicia’s non-appearance at the rendezvous had -disgusted him beyond remedy. Very shortly after the Battle of Flowers -she and Félicia embarked on the Bluebird, accompanied by the Baroness -Radnika, for whom, fortunately enough, Félicia had conceived one of -her sudden attachments. Maimie, who knew that the Baroness’s maiden -name had been Aline von Hartenweg, was not surprised by the passionate -tenderness with which she responded to Félicia’s endearments, and -wondered at the practical wisdom which had been shown in selecting -Prince Joseph’s old love as the instructress of his daughter. -Meanwhile, Mr Hicks was summoned from New York, bringing with him the -documents committed to his care; and alarming legal personages invaded -the parish of St Mary Windicotes, and the peaceful dwelling of the old -clergyman and his wife at Whitcliffe, demanding evidence on oath with -regard to the marriage of Joseph Bertram and Constance Lily Garland. -While the Bluebird cruised in the Western Mediterranean, never -spending more than one night away from port, the negotiations dragged -their slow length along. About once a-week a hitch appeared, which -threatened to bring them to a dead stop, but as King Michael -invariably marked these occasions by paying fresh attention to the -Grand-Duchess Sonya, matters were smoothed over in some way or other. -</p> - -<p> -The first hitch presented itself just after Mr Hicks’s arrival in -Europe, when the ‘Empire City Diurnal,’ a paper which was the -unresting rival of the ‘Crier,’ and even more noted for its skill in -exploiting sensations, suddenly published what purported to be an -interview with an intimate friend of Félicia’s. Her father’s history -was detailed in a highly-coloured style, embodying just enough of -truth to wring severely the withers of the royal and imperial -personages concerned, and ending with a claim, put forward apparently -in all seriousness, to the crown of Pannonia itself on Félicia’s -behalf. This claim was further pressed in a fervid editorial, calling -upon the manhood of the United States to arise and cross the ocean, -and sweep to destruction the effete usurpers who were keeping an -American woman out of her rights by force and fraud. A -subscription-list towards effecting this noble object followed, headed -by the proprietor and ending with the office-boy, and the names of -eleven volunteers (others were stated to be arriving in thousands) -appeared below. The extracts telegraphed at once to Europe raised a -ferment in Pannonian Court circles, and the Grand-Duke of -Schwarzwald-Molzau was very nearly driven to wash his hands altogether -of Félicia and her claims. Cyril happened to be in England at the -time, but Mr Hicks succeeded in saving the situation. An expenditure -at which the Grand-Duke stood aghast seemed nothing to him, and he -cabled whole columns to his own journal. The next day the ‘Crier,’ -strong in the indubitable fact of possessing one of the trustees of -the claimant on its staff, administered a douche of cold water to the -excited public of the ‘Diurnal.’ So far from possessing or advancing a -claim to any crown whatsoever, Miss Steinherz was solely concerned to -vindicate the good name of her mother; and the ‘Diurnal’s’ polemic was -nothing but an attempt to prejudice her in this sacred task by -alienating the august relatives who had welcomed the news of her -existence with tears of joy, and were only restraining their eagerness -to receive her into their midst in order that her claim might be -properly substantiated according to law. -</p> - -<p> -“Draw it mild, Hicks!” said Cyril, when they next met, and he read -this reply. “Any one can see you had your tongue in your cheek the -whole time.” -</p> - -<p> -“Is that so, Count? Well now, I’d bet my bottom dollar you’re the only -man that will see the thing was wrote sarcastic. There were tears in -the Grand-Duke’s eyes when he read it, any way. And in the States the -effect has been colossal, I hear, especially of the paragraph about -the ‘Diurnal’s’ stopping the cash-boys’ salaries to stick in its -subscription-lists. It isn’t every day a man can make a big scoop for -his paper and pat Europe on the head as well.” -</p> - -<p> -In any case, the ‘Diurnal’s’ sensation wilted, as Mr Hicks put it, and -no more was heard of it after the paper’s unfulfilled promise to -publish the name of the “distinguished lady” who had given the -information. The next difficulty came from Mr Steinherz’s elder -brother, Don Ramon, who demanded that before he considered her claim, -Félicia should prove her good faith by surrendering her fortune into -his hands as head of the house of Arragon. Her father’s will provided -effectually against this, and led to a deadlock; but as Félicia -intimated that her relations’ interests would receive careful -consideration from her if the relationship were established, the -difficulty was shelved. Then a hitch was caused by the discovery that -Konstantia von Lilienkranz was not sufficiently high in rank for even -the Emperor to raise her retrospectively to a level befitting the -bride of a Prince of Arragon. Cyril replied with the terse advice, -“Consult the heralds”; and after a little expenditure of time and -trouble Félicia’s mother was provided with a descent which rivalled -that of the Schwarzwald-Molzaus themselves. The difficulty which came -next threatened to be more serious; for the Church objected to the -recognition of the irregular marriage, on the ground that the Pope’s -consent to a mixed marriage had not been obtained, and that no -provision had been made for the children to be brought up in the Roman -Catholic faith. The solution obviously intended was that Félicia -should change her creed; but Cyril, on behalf of King Michael, pointed -out that this would make her impossible as a Queen for Thracia. The -Emperor, to whom the marriage offered a way out of many difficulties, -brought a despairing pressure to bear upon the Vatican, and the matter -was compromised on the understanding that Félicia should build and -endow a magnificent church to her father’s memory. She consented at -once, as she would have consented to build a mosque had it been -required of her; for the nearer she came to her goal, the more -intolerable did the thought of failing to reach it appear. It was a -joy to feel that Cyril and Mr Hicks were already discussing how her -fortune could best be applied to solve the financial problems of -Thracia without infringing the provisions of her father’s will; a -greater joy to learn that King Michael’s conditional proposal of -marriage had become a definite one; and greatest of all, to receive -through Mr Hicks a telegram, half-invitation, half-command, directing -her to proceed in her yacht to the Pannonian coast, that she might be -presented to her father’s family. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch14"> -CHAPTER XIV.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">FOR PITY’S SAKE.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">When</span> Usk returned to England, he found his parents in London, -established in a corner of the vast mansion which had been built by -Lord Caerleon’s grandfather, the Peninsular General, and much adorned -by his son, the Crimean hero, in the palmy days of landowning. Both -these veterans took a keen professional interest in battle-pictures, -and had embellished Caerleon House with many square yards of warlike -frescoes, which their civilian descendant sometimes wished had been -painted on canvas, so that they could be removed and sold. When his -father’s death, or, strictly speaking, the duties consequent thereon, -left Lord Caerleon unable to keep up two establishments, he succeeded -in letting the town house on a long lease to a Northern magnate who -had made a fortune in sugar-refining, but now sugar, as well as land, -had fallen upon evil days. The house was on its owner’s hands once -more, and it was cheaper to encamp in some of the smaller rooms than -to live in lodgings, especially since Lady Caerleon’s chief desire was -for a drawing-room which she could lend for meetings. Thus, while in -the state apartments the blinds remained down, and the furniture -looked ghostly in holland wrappings, Usk and his parents lived and -worked, interviewed political friends and opponents, and furthered -various religious and philanthropic schemes, in the modest suite -traditionally allotted to the heir of the house, and called the -Viscount’s rooms. It did not occur to them to feel ashamed of their -obvious poverty, and they found pleasure in entertaining the few, -chiefly old friends or fellow-workers, who did not consider that -stinted means and lack of “smartness” placed the Caerleons beyond the -pale of decent society. -</p> - -<p> -As for Usk, he threw himself so completely into his parents’ interests -that he had no time to think even of running down to Llandiarmid, and -thus the peace of mind of Gwladys and Myfanwy Jones remained -undisturbed. Lord Caerleon’s Temperance measure had hitherto escaped -the different snares and pitfalls in its path, and was rapidly nearing -the goal which was the usual fate of the Bills he brought forward—a -piteous request from the Government for its withdrawal, since to press -it further would jeopardise the success of the complete and carefully -drawn scheme of reform which His Majesty’s Ministers intended to -introduce next session. It is a striking instance of the vanity of -human wishes that never in any case did the next session see the -introduction of such a Bill. -</p> - -<p> -This was the state of affairs when one afternoon, about the middle of -April, Cyril walked into Caerleon House, and found his brother and -sister-in-law in the great desolate conservatory, which was sparsely -sprinkled with pots of flowers sent up from Llandiarmid. Lady Caerleon -thought the conservatory the most country-like place in the house; and -her husband preferred it because to smoke in any of the other rooms -seemed like sacrilege. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, Cyril!” cried Lady Caerleon, catching sight of him first. “Is -the—is Ernestine here?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, I have run over alone. Usk’s out, I hope? I wanted to catch you -two together. Bill flourishing, Caerleon? The session onward plods its -weary way, I suppose? How does Usk work?” -</p> - -<p> -“Splendidly. When we have him in the Commons, we shall begin to move -at last, I feel certain.” -</p> - -<p> -“Good. No chance that the Southumberland seat will fall vacant just -yet, is there, though? Morrell will hang on until death or a general -election unseats him, and there’s no present likelihood of either, I -believe?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not that I know of.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s all right, then. I want Usk.” -</p> - -<p> -Lady Caerleon turned pale. “Oh, Cyril, has Félicia repented?” -</p> - -<p> -“Never further from it. She is making splendid progress towards her -heart’s desire. But your maternal instinct was not at fault, Nadia. It -is on behalf of a prospective daughter-in-law that I am come to you.” -</p> - -<p> -“But Usk has never said anything——” -</p> - -<p> -“About her? I think he has. Has he never mentioned the Princess Helene -of Schwarzwald-Molzau?” -</p> - -<p> -“A Schwarzwald-Molzau!” cried Lord Caerleon, but his wife broke in— -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, of course. We saw her engagement to the Grand-Duke Ivan, and Usk -was quite unhappy about it. He said the man was a brute.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, it was broken off about a week ago, but I suppose the news has -not got into the English papers yet. That is the young lady.” -</p> - -<p> -“But, Cyril, I am quite sure Usk has never thought of her in that -way.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s just possible he might learn to do it.” -</p> - -<p> -“But why should he? Oh, you can’t mean that she has fallen in love -with him, and let other people see it, when he hasn’t said a word to -her?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why that tone of deep disgust? I seem to remember a young lady once -whom I only dissuaded with the greatest difficulty from sending a -refusal, in writing, to a man who had never proposed to her.” -</p> - -<p> -“Unfair, Cyril!” cried Lord Caerleon. “Nadia couldn’t help knowing -that I cared for her.” -</p> - -<p> -“I can’t stand up against the two of you, that’s certain. Well, Nadia, -let me tell you the circumstances, and I think you will acquit poor -little Princess Lenchen of any worse crimes than a romantic -disposition, and an ingenuous readiness to take Usk on trust on the -strength of a childlike adoration for his uncle.” -</p> - -<p> -“Of course I don’t wonder at her falling in love with Usk,” said Usk’s -mother. -</p> - -<p> -“Of course you don’t. And she never told her love, at any rate, which -is an extenuating circumstance. You mustn’t think there was ever any -affection between her and Ivan Petrovitch. Her parents had been -pressing her to accept him, and she yielded suddenly at last, -about—yes, it must have been just about the time Usk came -home—simply because she had not vitality enough to hold out longer, I -should think. She looked like a ghost after the engagement, but she -was dragged out to all the gaieties there were, which in itself was -nearly enough to kill a delicate girl brought up very quietly in the -mountains. She looked worse and worse as the days went on, and -Ernestine almost broke her heart over her; but when she spoke to the -Grand-Duchess, she only wept, and said her husband was determined the -marriage should take place, and she dared not cross him. The climax -came at the time of the Mi-Carême Battle of Flowers. The Grand-Duke -and the lover insisted upon the poor girl’s going, though she had a -perfect terror of it, after the fright she got at the Carnival, where -Usk met her first. She fainted twice while she was dressing, and the -Grand-Duchess was alarmed at last, and sent for a doctor. Very -fortunately, the English doctor whom Ernestine had advised her to call -in was in the hotel at the moment, visiting Usk’s friend Nicholson, -who was his patient. He put an absolute veto on the girl’s going out -that day, and promised to come and examine her thoroughly in the -morning. They told him nothing of the circumstances, but after seeing -her he said there was some trouble pressing upon her mind, and if it -was not removed she would die of sheer terror. The Grand-Duke stormed, -but could not shake him, and as no one could pretend not to know what -the trouble was, Ivan Petrovitch was sent about his business. I should -imagine the Grand-Ducal family went through stormy times for a day or -two. The Grand-Duke is not a pleasant man to oppose, but if you have -to do it, it’s as well to do it with spirit. Félicia and he get on -excellently, because if she doesn’t like what he tells her to do, she -says so, and the matter is at an end. Well, the doctor continued his -visits, as the Grand-Duchess asked him, but he told Ernestine -privately that it was useless. There was no organic disease, but the -child did not seem to have any wish to live. She knew that her parents -quarrelled over her, I suppose, and had not the courage to assert -herself. She was quiet and fairly happy when once her engagement was -broken off, but she didn’t get better. And only just seventeen, -Nadia!” -</p> - -<p> -“Much too young to be thinking about engagements at all,” said Lady -Caerleon, decisively but not harshly. -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, well, her parents had put the thought into her mind, you see. -Then, three days ago, she had a dreadful shock. Usk’s friend Nicholson -had another attack of hæmorrhage, and died in the hotel. Ernestine -thought him very much softened lately, and he used to like her to read -to him. She was with him just before the end, and the Grand-Duchess -asked her not to go and see Helene that day, lest she should inquire -for him. She took an interest in him as an invalid, you see, and used -to send him some of the flowers which were sent her. That afternoon -the Grand-Duke came to our rooms in a terrible state of mind. The -Grand-Duchess’s maid had let out to Helene that Nicholson was dead, -and, somehow, it seemed to awaken the child to the fact that she -wasn’t very far from dying herself. It did not disturb her to realise -it, but the Grand-Duke complained that his wife and the other women -looked at him as if he was a murderer. He begged Ernestine to go and -see them, and even promised that anything she thought might be any -good should be done. Of course Ernestine went, and you can imagine the -state of things she found—the lady-in-waiting weeping in the <i>salon</i>, -the maid sobbing in the passage, and the Grand-Duchess herself in -Helene’s room in floods of tears. I suppose the poor girl thought she -had no time to lose, for without giving her mother any opportunity of -recovering from the first shock, she had asked for her jewels and -other little things, and was saying who she would like to have them. -She’s such a simple little soul that it didn’t occur to her she was -doing anything hackneyed—it was just the most natural thing in the -world to her. There were bracelets and so on for her sisters and -cousins, and some trifle for me, and then she touched a ring which she -always wears, which was given her at her confirmation, and said she -would like Usk to have it. Her mother was so much astonished that she -didn’t answer for a moment, and Helene said piteously, ‘You won’t mind -then, will you, mamma? I shall never see him again, you know.’ -Ernestine thought the Grand-Duchess had gone out of her mind, for she -got up suddenly and seized her by the arm and took her out of the -room. When the door was shut, she said, ‘That’s what the child wants! -You will help me. We will take her to the mountains at once, and she -shall marry your nephew instead of Ivan Petrovitch, and get well. -Come, let us tell her about it.’ Ernestine begged her to wait and -consult the Grand-Duke, but she absolutely refused. She went back into -Helene’s room, and swept all the jewels into their box again. -‘Nonsense, Lenchen!’ she said. ‘You are not going to die. This place -is too hot for you. We will go back to the mountains, to our own -Lauterbach, just you and I, and your aunt will come and stay with us.’ -Ernestine felt obliged to back her up by saying that as I could not -leave Nice just at present, she would ask Usk to come and escort her -to Lauterbach, and they would stay at the cottage close to the -Schloss, so that Helene might be quite quiet. She says she didn’t dare -to look at the child as she spoke, but she heard her whisper, ‘Then I -shall see him again, after all!’ and for the first time she felt there -was some hope.” -</p> - -<p> -“But the Grand-Duke!” cried Lord Caerleon. “What did he think about -it?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, Ernestine and the Grand-Duchess very prudently came to our -rooms to have it out with him, lest Helene should be disturbed. Of -course he vowed he would never hear of such a thing, but for once his -wife seemed to have lost her fear of him. She told him plainly that -she would separate from him rather than let Helene die when she could -be saved; and as the money is nearly all hers, that brought him round. -At last he calmed down sufficiently to allow the doctor to be -consulted, and he was called in. He approved highly of the mountain -plan, and recommended very strongly that the girl’s inclination should -not be forced in any way. She was so sensitive, he said, that only a -man of a most sympathetic type could hope to make her happy. In -deference to the Grand-Duke’s feelings, his wife consented to leave -that part of the programme in abeyance, but they start for the -mountains to-morrow, and I should like to pack Usk off to join them, -if you have no objection.” -</p> - -<p> -“On what footing?” asked Lord Caerleon sharply. “I won’t have him -bandied about according to the state of the Grand-Duke’s temper.” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Caerleon, haven’t you learnt yet that the honour—the -punctilio, I might say—of the family is safe with me? Usk will be -received as a suitor approved by the young lady’s parents, though he -will not be formally presented to her as such.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well,” said Lady Caerleon, “if I were in Princess Helene’s place, it -would not make me better to know that a young man was being brought to -marry me, quite irrespective of his own wishes.” -</p> - -<p> -“She knows nothing of the kind, and no one has suggested it to her. I -don’t pretend to say what may be passing in her mind, but I should -imagine she flatters herself that she regards him merely as a dear -friend. But I seem to be unfortunate in my advocacy, Nadia. Since my -words only prejudice you further against the poor little girl, I shall -be obliged to show you this, which I didn’t mean to bring out if I -could help it, for it’s not flattering.” -</p> - -<p> -He handed Lady Caerleon a photograph, which she took with a stern and -unbending aspect, but her look changed suddenly. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Cyril, what a sad little face!—and how very——” -</p> - -<p> -“Plain?” suggested Cyril, as she hesitated. “If you saw her, you -wouldn’t think so. It’s the expression that is wanting in the -photograph.” -</p> - -<p> -“She must have beautiful eyes and hair,” said Lady Caerleon slowly. -“But, Cyril, Carlino, think of the difference from Félicia! Do you -think Usk would ever care for her? And so badly dressed! I should like -to take her in hand.” -</p> - -<p> -“Come,” said Cyril, “this is a ray of hope. Now you realise that she -needs comforting and dressing, Nadia, you won’t steel your heart -against her for long.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t want to steel my heart against her, poor little thing! but -you don’t seem to see—I daresay it sounds very selfish, but you feel -it too, don’t you, Carlino?—when Phil is so far away, to have to give -up Usk too! I know I ought to be willing to do it, if it’s to help -some one, but for him to have to go and live in Germany—it would be -like losing him altogether.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, no, Nadia,” said her husband quickly, as she turned to him with -streaming eyes, “that’s out of the question. Usk has his duties here, -and he won’t give them up with my consent.” -</p> - -<p> -“You both seem to have the worst possible opinion of me,” lamented -Cyril. “Is it likely that I should deliberately arrange for Usk to -become a hanger-on at a petty German Court, where he wouldn’t even be -welcomed? No; the Grand-Duchess quite sees that her husband and her -daughter agree best at a distance. ‘The young people will live in -England, of course,’ she said to me, ‘but they must come and see me in -the mountains every year, and sometimes I will come and see them.’” -</p> - -<p> -“Is that Usk coming in?” cried Lady Caerleon, starting up. -</p> - -<p> -“Suppose you break the idea to him, Nadia, and see how he takes it,” -suggested Cyril. “No one wants to force him into anything, of course, -but I hardly see how he can do better. And you will manage it much -more artistically than I should, for with you I began by giving the -poor little girl away, which was the last thing I meant to do.” -</p> - -<p> -Lady Caerleon hurried into the house, and the brothers were left -together. -</p> - -<p> -“I hope Usk will be able to see his way to it,” said Cyril. “Ernestine -and I are quite foolish over this child Helene. Imagine my tearing -across Europe just to get her what she wants!” -</p> - -<p> -“I can’t understand even now how the Grand-Duke came to give in. One -has always heard that his views on unequal marriages were so very -strict.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m going to give you a tip,” said Cyril. “You mustn’t allow that it -is unequal, on any account. Play the <i>grand seigneur anglais</i> for all -you’re worth when you meet him. Be impassive, bored, contemptuously -tolerant of all you see, and let him know that you have much better at -home.” -</p> - -<p> -“Anything else?” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s perfectly true. None of the Grand-Duke’s palaces can hold a -candle to this house, and there’s no need to mention that you can’t -afford to live in it. And as for Llandiarmid, though Félicia was -pleased to turn up her pretty nose at it, it would make him miserably -discontented with all his country seats, even if he saw it as it is. -To German ears your rent-roll sounds magnificent, and the family -jewels are historic. I’m thankful you never parted with them—but they -are heirlooms, aren’t they? so it was not any virtue on your part. If -you have to come to Molzau—for the wedding—make Nadia wear the -emeralds, and have the pearls mounted afresh for Helene. That will -smooth your path wonderfully.” -</p> - -<p> -“If you exalt me much higher, I shall begin to think that it is Usk -who is making the <i>mésalliance</i>.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, the rest of the Schwarzwald-Molzau family will soon undeceive you -in that case. It’s the Grand-Duke’s bitterest pill that he has imbued -his children so thoroughly with his views that they will all look -askance at him now. The youngest son, Prince Franz, who married the -daughter of Félicia’s uncle, Don Florian, is the only one from whom -he can expect any sympathy. Princess Resi is <i>recht demokratisch</i>, I -understand.” -</p> - -<p> -“Nice to be received upon sufferance into a family where only the -Radicals will tolerate you!” -</p> - -<p> -“You must make allowance for the susceptibilities of young people who -have all married as they were told, and done excellently for -themselves. I don’t know whether they married for rank, but they have -certainly married where rank is. The Grand-Duke has always warned them -against the romantic taint which crops out in the family with such -curious persistency, and their feelings will naturally be hurt when it -turns out that the taint has reappeared and vanquished him in the -youngest and most timid of them all.” -</p> - -<p> -“And this taint is merely a disposition to marry for love, I suppose?” -</p> - -<p> -“Exactly; the sort of thing which can’t be allowed in a semi-royal -house. The men in whom it appeared have generally gone to the bad, I -believe, and the women become <i>dévotes</i>, after experiences which -proved how wise their family were in refusing to listen to their -wishes. It doesn’t seem to have struck the family that it would have -been cheaper, and saved a good deal of scandal, to allow the -delinquents to resign their rank, and settle down in private life with -the objects of their affections. Their domestic squabbles would have -served as awful warnings to the next generation. Perhaps that is the -secret of the Grand-Duke’s yielding now.” -</p> - -<p> -“Cyril!” Lord Caerleon turned and looked fixedly at his brother. “I -hope there’s no morganatic foolery about this business? That I won’t -stand.” -</p> - -<p> -“Certainly not. Our Plantagenet blood, which your Radical friends -think so lightly of except when they want you to push their Bills in -Parliament, has stood us in good stead here, as I have often found -before. But I own I never expected to be grateful for poor old -O’Malachy’s descent from Irish kings. It was a happy thought of his to -have that elaborate pedigree drawn out, though I believe it was the -only thing he had to leave Nadia at his death, wasn’t it? I must have -it copied to take back with me, though I remembered enough of it to -quiet the Grand-Duke’s apprehensions as to Usk’s mother’s possessing -the regulation number of quarterings. But it is a curious thing that -you, the most typical Englishman I know, should apparently be doomed -to associate with foreigners. You have a foreign wife, so have I, and -now everything is conspiring to provide you with a foreign -daughter-in-law.” -</p> - -<p> -Lord Caerleon growled impatiently. “It doesn’t seem to have struck any -one to ask how Usk and his wife are to live,” he said. “Has the -Princess any money?” -</p> - -<p> -“In Germany she is regarded as something of an heiress, and her -fortune undoubtedly looks rather imposing reckoned in marks. I should -say she would have about eight hundred a-year—pounds, I mean.” -</p> - -<p> -“Even with what I can give Usk, it’ll be precious little to support -such a lot of grandeur upon. They won’t have much margin.” -</p> - -<p> -“She is sure to be a good housekeeper. All German girls are. By the -bye, what about that new railway which was to pass Llandiarmid and -open up the hill district? Is it still on the <i>tapis</i>?” -</p> - -<p> -“Rather. But Nadia and I both felt that we ought not to run up the -price of the land, as the line is so much needed.” -</p> - -<p> -“You didn’t tell the Company that, I hope? Don’t, pray, feel that you -must love your neighbour better than yourself. Let them make the first -offer. You may be sure they won’t propose to give more than the land -is worth, but you certainly ought to get enough out of them to -increase Usk’s allowance to something a little more in accordance with -his position.” -</p> - -<p> -<br/> -</p> - -<p> -In the meantime, Lady Caerleon had intercepted her son in the hall, -and drawn him aside into the library. -</p> - -<p> -“Your uncle is here, Usk, and he and your father are having a little -talk. Come in here. I—I want to speak to you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Anything wrong?” he asked in surprise. “Why, you’ve been crying, -mater! What is it?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, dear, there is nothing wrong. It was foolish of me to cry. I -ought to feel very glad and proud, after what I have just heard about -you.” -</p> - -<p> -“There’s little enough about me to make you either glad or proud, I’m -afraid,” he said bitterly. “But I’m glad you’re pleased, mater, -whatever it is.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I am not pleased!” cried Lady Caerleon. “At least, as I say, I -ought to be. But if it is to make you happy, I <i>will</i> be pleased.” -</p> - -<p> -Usk changed colour. “Mother,” he said, almost breathlessly, “if it’s -any message about—anything from Félicia, it’s no good. I don’t want -to hear from her. I could never trust her again.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, no! It’s about the Princess Helene of Schwarzwald-Molzau. Her -engagement to the Scythian Prince is broken off.” -</p> - -<p> -“Is that all?” cried Usk. “What a start you gave me! And what in the -world has it to do with me?—though of course I’m glad for the poor -little girl’s own sake.” -</p> - -<p> -“Usk,” said his mother quickly, “had you any idea she cared for you?” -</p> - -<p> -“For me? Princess Helene? What an idea! Of course not.” -</p> - -<p> -“She has been very ill, and when she thought she was dying, she begged -that the ring she always wore might be given to you. And now—they -hope she will not die.” -</p> - -<p> -“I—I don’t think you ought to have told me this,” said Usk awkwardly. -He looked with a kind of reproach at his mother, who could not meet -his eyes. “You see,” he went on more firmly, “she’s such a nice little -girl that it’s a shame to say that sort of thing about her. She’s as -innocent as a baby, and it would get her into dreadful trouble with -her people if they thought it was true.” -</p> - -<p> -“It is true,” said Lady Caerleon desperately, “and your uncle would -like you to marry her. Could you care for her at all, Usk?” -</p> - -<p> -“No one could help caring for her, she’s such a gentle, friendly -little thing. But not in that way! Mater, say you’re joking.” -</p> - -<p> -“I wish I could, but everything is arranged in a way. They think she -is pining after you—no, I know it doesn’t sound kind to say it, Usk, -but what am I to say? You were kind to her, weren’t you? and she -misses you, and they say it would cheer her if you went and stayed -with your aunt near her, and saw her every day. It doesn’t sound much -to ask, but then it involves a good deal more.” -</p> - -<p> -“But why?” asked Usk quickly. “I shouldn’t a bit mind seeing her as -much as she liked, and—anything of that sort. Why shouldn’t it stop -there?” -</p> - -<p> -“I suppose people would talk—I don’t know. Besides, if she -really——” -</p> - -<p> -Usk stopped her. “Please don’t. It would make her so awfully miserable -if she knew things of that kind were being said about her. Feeling as -I do, I have no business to listen to it. If I cared for her, it might -be different.” -</p> - -<p> -“But couldn’t you? Do you never mean——” -</p> - -<p> -“To marry? I don’t know. Perhaps some day it will seem more possible -than it does now. Mother, think! If you knew how I loved and trusted -Félicia, you would know that I could never feel the same to any woman -again, never! If she had even broken it off at one wrench, it would -not be so bad; but she played me like a salmon, pretending to let me -go, and then drawing me back again, until every feeling of that sort -seems quite dried up.” -</p> - -<p> -“But you are young, Usk. You will get over it some day.” -</p> - -<p> -“Possibly. I don’t feel like it just yet.” -</p> - -<p> -“And a good girl—not one like Félicia——” -</p> - -<p> -“Do you realise what Félicia is—how beautiful?—‘witchlike’ Princess -Helene called it once, I remember. If she was looking at me, I should -know it, though I was at the other end of the room and there was a -crowd of people between,—I should feel it all over me, somehow. I -couldn’t feel like that for the little Princess. I should like to make -her happy, to take her away from her father and be kind to her, and -see her begin to assert herself, and hear the funny things she says, -but I couldn’t marry her on that, could I?” -</p> - -<p> -“But pity is akin to love.” -</p> - -<p> -“Mater, you’re weakening! You don’t mean to say you would wish it?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t wish it, but—I’m beginning to be afraid it may be your -duty.” -</p> - -<p> -“And then it’s all up, isn’t it? What a thing it is to have a mother -with a conscience!” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t talk so hardly, Usk. I can’t help thinking how we should feel -if the poor girl died. You say you would not make it up with Félicia -if you could; don’t you think you may be called to make this -sacrifice?” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s not a sacrifice altogether,” admitted Usk. “I really do like -her, you know, but not in that way. The question is, is it fair to -Princess Helene herself? No; certainly it would not be such a -sacrifice as marrying one of the Jones girls,” he added with a laugh. -</p> - -<p> -“What, Gwladys or Myfanwy? My dear Usk!” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, mater, I had made up my mind to propose to one of them in due -time, simply because I thought you were so fond of them.” -</p> - -<p> -“As helpers in the parish, perhaps. But not to marry you.” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s just as well that we have had this explanation, then, for I -should certainly have done it.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am most thankful you haven’t. And Mr Jones—oh, Usk!” -</p> - -<p> -“Mater, I’m afraid you’re a very worldly woman.” -</p> - -<p> -“Am I? I hope not. But perhaps I am, though I don’t think there’s -anything wrong in preferring a Princess of Schwarzwald-Molzau to Miss -Jones. No, I’m afraid you’re right. I have always been so anxious -people should not think your father had done himself harm in marrying -me. It was pride, of course, because I used to hope you would both -make brilliant marriages. But I couldn’t wish Phil to have chosen -differently—though I wish she lived in England. But I should like you -to marry well, Usk.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then, on your own rule of conduct, I ought to go and propose to Miss -Jones at once, so as to mortify your pride, oughtn’t I?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, it would not be fair to Princess Helene. We have her to think of -too, you know.” Usk raised his eyebrows at this sophistry. “I—I -should like you to go back with your uncle, Usk.” -</p> - -<p> -“And propose immediately to the poor little girl?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh no, that’s not necessary. Only go and be kind to her. You may find -that she doesn’t care for you, after all, or you may come to care for -her, in time.” -</p> - -<p> -“And in any case I shall be safe from your friends?” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t, Usk. I only want to see you happy, you know that. Any woman -that can make you happy again will be welcome to me.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then the Princess Helene shall have the honour of trying the -experiment,” said Usk. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch15"> -CHAPTER XV.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">NOT LONG A-DOING.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">It</span> was night when Usk arrived at Lauterbach. At the little station, -far down in the valley below, Queen Ernestine’s solemn Syrian -major-domo and several of the Schwarzwald-Molzau servants had met him -with horses and pack-mules, and they had ridden up and up all through -the hours of the spring evening. When they reached the tiny table-land -on which the Bergschloss stood, it was too dark to distinguish -anything but towering peaks on every hand shutting out the stars, with -a gleam of whiteness at one side, cast by the waterfall which filled -the air with such a tumult of sound that Usk wondered how the dwellers -on the plateau ever heard each other speak. He was to learn later that -those who were accustomed to the noise did not even hear it, and that -they could distinguish other sounds as though it had not been. Even -now Helene, lying awake in one of the turret-rooms of the Schloss, the -twinkling lights of which showed its position against the dark -mountains, heard the sound of the horses’ feet as they passed, and -said to herself, “He is come, then, at last!” But although Usk, as he -rode under the walls of the castle, wondered for a moment which was -Helene’s room, he thought no more of her that night after reaching the -smaller house, called Luisenruh, after its builder, the mother of the -present Grand-Duke, where his aunt was staying. Queen Ernestine had -much to ask him about his parents and his work in London, and he had -to tell her the various incidents of his journey, and as if by a tacit -understanding they held aloof from the delicate matter which had -brought him to Lauterbach. -</p> - -<p> -In the morning, however, he found that they were to join the -Grand-Duchess and her daughter at the Schloss for the late breakfast; -and he walked with the Queen through the gardens, which adjoined each -other so nearly that few people could have told where the grounds of -the cottage ended and those of the Schloss began, and learned from a -servant who was sent to meet them that the meal was served in the -Chinese pavilion. There were several of these summer-houses dotted -about in the gardens—a Greek temple, a hermitage, a Persian mosque, -an Arcadian shepherd’s hut, all absurdly incongruous in their -architecture as in their names, but affording pleasant retreats in hot -or wet weather, and fine views of the mountains and the waterfall at -all times. In the Chinese pavilion, which had a range of pointed roofs -one above another, with little bells hung at every possible extremity, -the visitors found the Grand-Duchess, whose nervousness was concealed -under a restless activity which would have been called bustling in a -lady of lower rank. Helene, very thin and bright-eyed, with a red spot -in either cheek, was propped up with pillows on a couch which -commanded the finest of the views. -</p> - -<p> -“What do you think of my mountains?” she demanded eagerly of Usk, as -soon as she had greeted him, and she smiled with pleasure over his -answer that they looked jolly. “You can’t know them properly by only -seeing them from this distance,” she went on. “I shall show you all my -own special views and paths, and all the things I used to discover.” -</p> - -<p> -“No mountain-climbing just yet, Lenchen!” said the Grand-Duchess. “You -are to walk a little every day as soon as you are rested from the -journey, you know, but it must be only about the gardens, where the -paths are level.” -</p> - -<p> -“Walking where the paths are level! Why, mamma, in a fortnight I shall -be bicycling again. We will keep the level paths for that. I want to -take Lord Usk up the mountains, and see all my friends.” -</p> - -<p> -But in spite of Helene’s eagerness for exertion, it was long before -she could attempt the mountains. Naturally enough, when the excitement -of returning to her favourite scenes, and of welcoming Usk, had -passed, she seemed to lose strength, and to the anxious eye of her -mother appeared actually worse than she had been at Nice. Almost in -desperation, the Grand-Duchess threw herself upon Usk for help, and -adopted him as the natural sharer of her anxieties with a calmness -that surprised him. -</p> - -<p> -“You must help me to save her,” she said. “Here are the doctor’s -directions, and I look to you to carry them out.” -</p> - -<p> -Somewhat amused though he was at being turned into a sick-nurse, Usk -accepted the position, which he found to be no sinecure, and which -made him feel by turns horribly cruel and a good deal of a fool. -Helene was to live almost entirely in the open air, it seemed, and to -take exercise at stated hours and for a fixed period of time. If she -grew tired too soon, it was his duty to pretend not to notice it, and -to talk to her as she walked until she forgot it too. Or if, as -sometimes happened, she was ready to wander on when the stated time -was over, he was obliged to induce her to rest, which could -occasionally only be done by pretending that he himself was tired. It -struck him once, when he was hurrying after his patient with a rug, -because she would not sit down anywhere but on the grass, that his -position was a good deal less romantic than might have been expected -from his conversation with his mother. Helene talked to him as -naturally as if he had been her brother, and he could not flatter -himself that her frank pleasure in his society, and her readiness to -turn to him for everything she wanted done, sprang from any stronger -feeling than pure friendliness. His uncle and the Grand-Duchess must -have been mistaken, he decided, and the fact produced in him curiously -mixed sensations. On the one hand, when Helene was better, nothing -more would be expected of him, and he could go his way in peace; but, -on the other, he felt that he had to some extent been fooled when he -was induced to screw himself up to the performance of a tremendous -exploit which now appeared quite unnecessary. But he grew genuinely -fond of Helene in a brotherly way, and was as proud as her mother when -she began to show unmistakable signs of returning health. When she -refused breakfast one day, and the Grand-Duchess only waited until she -was out of sight to weep, Usk showed no disappointment. His prescience -was rewarded in the course of the morning, when Helene confessed -suddenly that she was “so hungry,” and asked him to fetch her -something to eat. Then there was the day when for the first time an -expedition was undertaken beyond the grounds, and Helene proudly -introduced him to one of her friends, the wife of a goatherd who lived -on the mountain-side. The good woman set before her visitors a meal of -black bread and goats’ milk; and this simple fare, which Usk privately -thought very nasty, Helene ate and enjoyed, and the Grand-Duchess wept -again, but this time her tears were of joy. -</p> - -<p> -Now that Helene was sufficiently recovered to take longer walks, her -mother thought it advisable to consider the conventions once more. At -first she succeeded in putting a veto on any distant expeditions by -the plea that Helene would overtask her strength, but when Usk had -suggested taking a pony with them, on which she could ride when she -was tired, it was necessary to provide suitable companions. Neither -the Grand-Duchess nor the Queen were equal to the exertion involved, -but the former invited her youngest son and his wife to pay a visit to -Lauterbach. Prince Franz Immanuel had been educated in England, and -Usk and he had been contemporaries at Eton for some years, so that -they had many interests in common, while Princess Theresia, the -daughter of Félicia’s uncle, Don Florian of Arragon, was so fond of -things English that she was known at the Pannonian Court as the -Anglomaniac. To her the Grand-Duchess had divulged her scheme -concerning Usk and Helene as soon as it was formed, hoping to gain one -firm ally, and the event proved that her object had been attained. The -elder children of the Grand-Duchess, to whom the secret had not been -revealed, were already writing from their married homes to inquire -suspiciously why “that man Mortimer’s nephew” was being thrown so much -with Lenchen, and prophesying that complications would occur; but -Princess Resi was an ardent supporter of the match, and insisted that -her husband should share her views. He had been inclined at first to -adopt the natural Schwarzwald-Molzau attitude, and scout the idea of a -<i>mésalliance</i>; but he and his wife were a most devoted couple, and -she fairly talked him over. Plied all day and every day with arguments -in favour of love-matches, unequal marriages, unions in which the -parties were of different nationalities, and harassed by the -unreasonable conduct of Princess Resi, who insisted on taking any -opposition as a reflection on herself or her mother, whose admission -into the house of Albret-Arragon had only been secured by her immense -dowry, he yielded at last, and when they arrived at Lauterbach his -wife had him well in hand. He was further cheered by finding that Usk -showed no signs of undue elation, and that the intercourse between him -and Helene was of so free and brotherly a nature as to suggest that -the Grand-Duchess’s plan had miscarried. -</p> - -<p> -Prince Franz and his wife were ideal companions on the expeditions -Helene loved. Princess Resi’s Anglomania was of so pronounced a -character as to degenerate occasionally into caricature, especially in -the matter of the costumes she adopted for climbing; but she made it a -point of honour to do as much as her husband, and they followed Helene -uncomplainingly into all the nooks and corners of the mountains. So -tireless was Helene herself that Prince Franz unhesitatingly expressed -his opinion that she had never been ill at all, and that her ailments -had simply been assumed as an excuse for leaving Nice and returning to -her beloved Lauterbach, but his wife reproved him for this in private. -She understood from the Grand-Duchess, she said, that Helene’s -recovery was almost entirely due to Usk’s care of her, and the -firmness with which he had carried out the doctor’s orders, and if -things of that kind were said, he would think her friends grudged him -his fitting reward. Even now, said Princess Resi, she thought his -feelings must have been wounded in some way, for she took care that he -had an opportunity nearly every day of speaking to Helene, but it was -clear he had not done it yet. -</p> - -<p> -As for Usk, about this time he wrote to his mother alluding gloomily -to Miss Jones, without specifying which Miss Jones he meant, and -advised her to make up her mind to welcome that young lady into the -family after all. It is possible that he was influenced by an incident -from which he drew, perhaps, larger deductions than he should have -done. -</p> - -<p> -He was mounting the stairs which led to the morning-room at the -Schloss one day when he heard a sound as of paper being torn -violently, and then Prince Franz’s voice raised in protest. -</p> - -<p> -“What in the world are you doing, Lenchen? That paper is mine.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then you had no business to bring it here. It’s a shame!” The -stove-door clanged, and there was a sound of fire-irons. “As if I -would let it lie about for him to see! She must be wickeder than I -could ever have imagined it possible for a woman to be, to go and -break his heart——” -</p> - -<p> -Usk stood hesitating on the threshold as Helene, with a flushed face, -rose from her knees before the stove. It had not struck him at first -that he was one of the persons alluded to, but now the truth was -clear. It was something about Félicia that she had been unwilling for -him to see, and of late he had thought less and less about Félicia, -and might almost be said to have forgotten her. Helene read in his -face that he had heard and understood, but she misread the blankness -of his expression when he realised the change which had come over his -mind. -</p> - -<p> -“The new guide-book has come. Wouldn’t you like to look at it?” she -asked, beckoning him into the library. No sooner were they out of -earshot of Prince Franz than she turned to him with tears in her eyes. -</p> - -<p> -“I am so sorry,” she said. “I only wished to save you pain.” -</p> - -<p> -“You are very good,” said Usk, “but I don’t quite understand——” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, it was a portrait of the Princess Félicia, and an interview with -her, in an American paper, and I knew it would bring it all back to -you—all the pain. If——if——” she hesitated—“if it would comfort -you at all to talk to me about her, please do. I am so very sorry for -you.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m afraid it wouldn’t,” said Usk, feeling rather guilty. -</p> - -<p> -“I thought if you felt that it wasn’t her fault—that she was coerced -by her family—it might comfort you to say so.” -</p> - -<p> -“It was something much more vulgar than that—simply the desire for a -crown.” Usk spoke with momentary fierceness, born of recollection. -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, you are bitter. I do not wonder. You have borne it all in such -silence. I have felt for you, but I did not like to say anything, lest -you might be beginning to forget. I hoped you might still be able to -believe the best of her, for that is always a comfort, isn’t it?” -</p> - -<p> -“But you don’t,” objected Usk. -</p> - -<p> -“How could I, when she has made my friend suffer?” demanded Helene -passionately. “But I would if it would comfort you,” she added. -</p> - -<p> -“You are too kind,” said Usk, with sufficient moodiness to satisfy -her; and when he was alone he told himself again that he had been -brought here on a fool’s errand. When Helene sent him the ring, she -only meant to assure him of her sympathy under the treatment he had -met with from Félicia. -</p> - -<p> -Hence it was somewhat disconcerting to Usk when his uncle appeared -suddenly on the scene, for whereas he was quite satisfied to go on -from day to day enjoying the present and not troubling about the -future, it was only too probable that Cyril would look to hear -something definite. He met the party as they came down from the -mountains one evening, sunburnt and hungry after a long day’s -wandering. The two girls had decorated themselves and the pony with -wreaths of flowers, and even Prince Franz’s Tyrolese hat was -ornamented with a garland which he was forbidden to remove on pain of -his wife’s severe displeasure. Usk, in consideration of his -nationality, was allowed to escape with a buttonhole, which Helene had -made up for him with great care; and Princess Resi’s obedient husband -hinted that he would not mind being an Englishman too for once. -</p> - -<p> -“But this is treason, disloyalty!” cried Theresia. “How shall we -punish him, Lenchen? Oh, I know! If you say another word, Franz, we -will put a wreath round your neck as well. We have plenty of flowers -left.” -</p> - -<p> -“You have, indeed,” said a new voice, as Cyril came face to face with -them at a turn of the path. “Princess Helene might be posing as -Flora.” -</p> - -<p> -Helene smiled shyly from her high seat on the pony, where she was -holding the luncheon-basket heaped up with flowers, and offered him a -mountain-rose for his coat. -</p> - -<p> -“After this mark of favour, I think I ought to be allowed to lead the -pony,” said Cyril. “Usk, the Princess will dispense with your services -for the present.” -</p> - -<p> -Usk looked round in apprehension, fearing that his uncle had -misunderstood the state of affairs, but Helene spoke hastily, lest his -feelings might be hurt. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, please, if you would not mind Lord Usk’s walking on the other -side,” she said anxiously to Cyril. “The pony knows him so well.” -</p> - -<p> -Cyril smiled, and allowed Usk to retain his position. “Surely there -can be no fear of the pony’s running away?” he said. “Even music seems -to have no effect upon him. I found my way to you by hearing your -singing far above me. I hope I did not put a stop to it?” -</p> - -<p> -“We were pretending to be peasants,” said Theresia, “but we had left -off singing before we met you, Count. We are getting so near the -castle, you see.” -</p> - -<p> -“Arcadian peasants, surely?” said Cyril, with an involuntary glance at -Prince Franz’s hat. “And is the Princess Helene sorry to leave the -upland meadows and the flowers, and come back to reality?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh no; we are bringing the flowers with us, you see,” answered -Princess Resi for her. -</p> - -<p> -“Which things are an allegory,” said Cyril; but what he meant he did -not explain just then. He spent the evening at the Schloss with Queen -Ernestine and Usk, watching all that went on without seeming to do so, -and gaining a much clearer idea of the state of affairs than his -nephew gave him credit for possessing. When they returned to -Luisenruh, and the Queen had gone indoors, he suggested to Usk that -they should smoke in the garden, and Usk could not think of any -sufficient reason for declining. -</p> - -<p> -“Well?” said Cyril at last, when Usk had exhausted himself in the -endeavour to confine the conversation to general subjects. “Any news, -Usk? Have you settled anything?” -</p> - -<p> -Usk’s first impulse was to feign ignorance, but he knew it would be no -use. “With Princess Helene, do you mean?” he asked. “No; I haven’t -settled anything, because there’s nothing to settle. You were all -mistaken. She only cares for me just as she does for her brother.” -</p> - -<p> -“This is really very strange,” said Cyril gravely. “I should have -thought the girl’s own mother ought to know the state of her feelings, -but of course the girl herself must know it better. Do you say she -told you this plainly? In that case, surely you would have found it -better to leave at once? You have your father’s dignity to think of as -well as your own, you know.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m afraid she might make herself ill again if I wasn’t here to look -after her,” explained Usk anxiously; and Cyril was seized with a -violent fit of coughing, due, he remarked, to something wrong with his -cigar. “But she didn’t tell me all this,” Usk added, with some -reluctance. “I saw it for myself.” -</p> - -<p> -“You mean you have never proposed to her yet? But you must, you know. -It will be merely a formality, of course, since you are aware what the -answer will be, and you can go away immediately afterwards.” -</p> - -<p> -“But,” objected Usk, “she might be afraid—of giving me pain——” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m afraid I don’t quite follow you. Oh, you mean she might accept -you for fear of hurting your feelings by refusing? That would put you -in a very awkward position, certainly. Your feelings have not changed, -I suppose?” -</p> - -<p> -“How could they?” was the tragic reply. “Félicia is still—nothing -can——” -</p> - -<p> -“Nothing can undo the fact of her intervention in your life, you mean? -Quite so. When you start with an absolute impossibility of that kind, -it simplifies matters, if only in the direction of cutting off one way -of escape. Otherwise I should have thought—— I may be at fault in -such a delicate matter, but if you were each prepared to marry out of -pure tenderness for the other’s feelings, it seems to put it on rather -a fair footing, doesn’t it?” -</p> - -<p> -“No doubt it all strikes you as awfully funny, but——” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Usk, far from it! I fully appreciate the seriousness of a -situation in which it is equally difficult for you to propose or not -to propose, to be accepted or refused. I never remember coming across -anything quite like it before. If you see any way in which I can help -you, pray tell me. How you and Princess Helene are ever to learn each -other’s real sentiments while sparing each other’s feelings, I don’t -know. Unless, perhaps, you were to intimate that you intended to -serenade her one night, and I took your place, <i>à la</i> Cyrano. But I -am getting rather old to play Romeo, and, besides, your aunt might -object.” -</p> - -<p> -Usk growled angrily but incoherently, then turned to his uncle. -</p> - -<p> -“Why you should think it funny I don’t know,” he said, with some -inconsistency. “I don’t. But what I want to know is, why should I -propose to her at all? Why not simply go away?” -</p> - -<p> -“But I thought her health would suffer? You don’t think so now? -Because you have been received here as a suitor accepted by her -parents, and it would be a blackguardly thing to do. It would be a -cruel slur on the lady herself, and a most undeserved insult to the -Grand-Duke and Duchess. Surely your father’s son is bound to be a -gentleman, Usk?” -</p> - -<p> -Even in the darkness Cyril was conscious of the start with which his -nephew flung up his head. “You don’t understand,” said Usk coldly. “I -am only anxious to do what is best for her. But think of it, Uncle -Cyril,” his tone changed suddenly; “she is such a child, so young. I -don’t believe she has ever thought of this kind of thing at all.” -</p> - -<p> -“Girls have a habit of growing into women very much more suddenly than -you would expect. At least you might try if she understands.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t like to disturb her. She has been so perfectly happy lately.” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Usk, this idyllic life in meads of asphodel is very nice, but -it can’t last always. Little Helene must learn to come down into -reality like that pleasant sister-in-law of hers, and she will do it -with a much better grace than you think. She will bring the flowers -with her, as Princess Franz said, if only you will let her.” -</p> - -<p> -“But why not let things go on as they are? We might drift into an -understanding at last, without making such a fuss about it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Because the rest of the world is not standing still while you are -drifting. In plain English, we must begin to make arrangements for -Michael and Félicia’s wedding. Things are so far advanced that it’s -safe to go to work quietly. It is not expedient that they should be -married in Thracia, as they are both Protestants. They can’t be -married at Vindobona, for the same reason, and therefore Molzau, as -the seat of his family, is the natural place. Unless you have any -objection, I should prefer to get you out of the way first. You have -no particular wish to hang about at the ceremony, have you?” -</p> - -<p> -“I? No, indeed!” Usk shuddered. “Well, I’ll speak to her somehow, and -get something settled, but I shall always feel myself the biggest -blackguard on the face of the earth.” -</p> - -<p> -<br/> -</p> - -<p> -All the next day Usk went about with a remorsefully resolute -expression, which was correctly interpreted not only by his uncle but -by Princess Theresia, who was sympathetically prepared to give him -every possible assistance. The wanderings of the four young people led -them that day into one of the most difficult parts of the mountains, -and about noon they left the pony at the hut of one of the -Grand-Duke’s gamekeepers, since it would only be an encumbrance in -their climb. The girls were very tired when they approached the hut -again in the evening, and, to her husband’s alarm, Princess Resi -seemed even more exhausted than her sister-in-law. She hung heavily on -his arm, and walked so slowly that Usk and Helene were soon out of -sight in front. -</p> - -<p> -“You are much more tired than Lenchen,” said Prince Franz. “You must -ride instead of her, or at least you must take turns.” -</p> - -<p> -“I won’t! Why, it would spoil everything. No, you are not to shout to -them, Franz. I won’t have you interrupt them.” Then, as he looked at -her in astonishment, “He has been making up his mind to do it all day, -and he shall have his chance.” -</p> - -<p> -“To speak to Helene, do you mean? Well, I hope you see now that even -an Englishman feels a little diffidence in the presence of a daughter -of Schwarzwald-Molzau?” -</p> - -<p> -“Because he has taken so long about it, you mean? Franz, it does -surprise me to see how foolish even a rather nice man, such as -yourself, can be!” -</p> - -<p> -“At least I’m not too dull to see that your fatigue has suddenly -disappeared in the heat of argument.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, you only <i>see</i>. I <i>know</i>, and I know just what his feelings are.” -</p> - -<p> -Prince Franz received this assurance with a shout of laughter, but he -consented to lag behind with his wife. Usk and Helene had not noticed -their considerate conduct, however. Helene was keeping up bravely, in -spite of her fatigue, laying plans for fresh expeditions, and -wondering why her companion received them in such a half-hearted way. -He did not seem to be listening, she thought, and at last he broke -into one of her sentences. -</p> - -<p> -“Take my hand here, won’t you? It’s a stiff bit.” Then a few moments -of silence, and he spoke again suddenly. “I’m afraid I shan’t be here -much longer. My uncle was saying last night that I ought to be off.” -</p> - -<p> -This was the plan Usk had devised, after much cogitation, for breaking -the ice, and preparing Helene for the proposal which was bound to be -so startling to her, but its immediate effect alarmed him. He felt her -stumble, and a shiver ran through the arm which was passed through -his. Presently she said wearily— -</p> - -<p> -“I am so tired—so terribly tired. Do you think you could leave me -here, and fetch the pony from the hut? I feel as if I could not walk -any farther.” -</p> - -<p> -Much perplexed, and wondering guiltily whether his announcement was to -blame for this sudden exhaustion, Usk sought out a large stone by the -wayside. -</p> - -<p> -“Of course. Sit here, and I will bring the pony to you in a minute. -What an idiot I was not to see that we were going too far for you! But -you will catch cold.” -</p> - -<p> -He felt in the inner pocket of his jacket for the warm scarf his -mother had placed there, adjuring him always to wear it in the -mountains, and wrapped it round Helene’s neck, tucking the ends into -her coat and buttoning it. She pushed his hands away. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, don’t! I can’t bear it!” she cried, then added hastily, “I shall -be too hot, I mean.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am a brute!” thought Usk, lingering near her, but she bade him go -with a gesture which aroused in him something of indignation. Helene -to treat him in this way! Then he realised the truth of his uncle’s -words. She was a woman, after all. -</p> - -<p> -Usk made short work of the climb to the gamekeeper’s hut, and himself -helped to saddle the pony. Helene had not been alone five minutes when -the clatter of hoofs on the stones announced his return. She began to -apologise for her rudeness in a gentle, tired voice from which all -ring of happiness had departed, but he seemed to have no time to -listen to her. He had her mounted and well on the homeward way before -he would speak, in his new-born terror lest Prince and Princess Franz -should come up and interrupt them. -</p> - -<p> -“I want to ask your advice, Princess,” he began. “I am in trouble—in -a difficulty.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, if I could help you,” she said, with a quick return of pleasure. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s about a man who—whom I know. He can’t make up his mind what to -do. May I tell you about him?” She gave him a breathless permission, -and he went on. “This man was in love with a girl, awfully lovely and -all that, and she—jilted him for some one else. Then he met another -girl, and got very fond of her, but he felt that he never could love -any one again as he had loved the first girl. And it seemed to him -that it wasn’t fair to ask the second girl to love him when he -couldn’t care for her as he ought. I can’t tell you exactly how he -felt about it——” -</p> - -<p> -“Perhaps I can,” she said. “The first girl was so beautiful that she -had only to command, and it was a joy to him to obey. She seemed to -know the right thing to be done, as if she had been a prophetess, and -the second girl was only a poor little thing to whom he had been kind. -She could not advise him, and he would never think of asking her for -advice. But because he had been kind to her, he pitied her, and cared -for her in a sort of way——” her voice thrilled with pain. -</p> - -<p> -“No, no!” cried Usk. “It’s not that. He really is awfully fond of her, -but he can’t feel that it would be fair to ask her to marry him when -he doesn’t love her as he did the first girl.” -</p> - -<p> -“He adored the first, and the other he is only—fond of?” said Helene. -“I think the second girl should be asked whether that is enough for -her.” -</p> - -<p> -“Is it, Lenchen?” He looked up at her as he walked beside the pony. -</p> - -<p> -“One thing I must know first,” she said hastily. “See, she comes to -you again, the Princess Félicia, and holds out her hands. She says, -‘I am free. I hardened my heart against you for the sake of a crown, -but I find that I cannot live without you. I have always loved you -best, and I have broken loose and come back to you. Take me.’ And you -would, would you not?” -</p> - -<p> -“Rather not!” cried Usk. “She has broken me of that kind of thing. I -should only want to know what she expected to gain by it.” -</p> - -<p> -“You.” -</p> - -<p> -“But that’s not enough for her. She despises me, you see. And I come -and offer you what she despises. Do you wonder I’m ashamed?” -</p> - -<p> -“And I accept it,” said Helene. “Does it seem to you very -poor-spirited to be content with what you offer me? Perhaps it is, -but—I can’t do without you. All my strength seems to forsake me when -you are away. The day you left Nice, when we met you on your way to -the station, I was praying—oh, so earnestly!—that the good God would -change your mind, and make you decide to stay. It would have been a -miracle, you say? But why not? I knew I could not hold out against my -parents and Ivan Petrovitch if you were gone. But you went away, and I -seemed to have no power to resist. I allowed papa to tell Ivan -Petrovitch that I would marry him, and I prayed that I might die soon, -before the day could come. Do you wonder, then, that I am content now? -But listen to me, please.” She laid her hand on his shoulder as he -walked beside her. “I am glad you have told me all your feelings, -because it relieves me from one of my fears, at least. I am content, -but I am not satisfied. I shall not be satisfied until you can tell me -from your heart that you love me best.” -</p> - -<p> -“But really, you know,” protested Usk, “it’s simply that I can’t help -knowing that if I had to live the time over again since last August I -should do exactly the same—as regards Félicia, I mean.” -</p> - -<p> -“I know—and I want you to be able to say, ‘If I had known Helene -then, I should have loved her best.’ It sounds impossible, does it -not? and you are honest; you will not say it does not. But let me try. -Do not steel your heart against me, that is all I ask. You promise, -then?” as Usk took her hand and pressed his lips to it. “And you will -say nothing of this to any one? It is our secret, yours and mine.” -</p> - -<p> -“I feel as if every one ought to know how wretchedly, miserably -ashamed I feel beside you,” he muttered. -</p> - -<p> -“So? I would have liked you to feel proud—and just a little pleased,” -and Helene smiled at him with trembling lips. Usk looked at her as if -he hardly realised the meaning of her words, then his strained -expression relaxed, and he smiled too. -</p> - -<p> -“This part of the path is rather steep. I think I ought to hold you on -the pony,” he said, and did so. -</p> - -<p> -“There’s one thing I want to ask you,” said Helene presently. -</p> - -<p> -“To the half of my kingdom, such as it is! Only let me hear it.” -</p> - -<p> -“You have a Christian name, haven’t you? I want to have a name for you -that other people don’t use—not to have to call you after a place, -like a king in Shakespeare. Do you think Cordelia called her husband -‘France’?” -</p> - -<p> -“My Christian name is Edmund,” said Usk gravely. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, and Edmund in ‘King Lear’ is so horrible! I couldn’t call you -that.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m sorry. It’s a family name, you see. But as you’re such a -Shakespearean scholar, have you ever read ‘Henry V.’?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t think so. No; I’m sure I haven’t. But I will, as soon as I -get home.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh no; you needn’t,” hastily. “There’s a fellow in that called Nym—a -delightful person—and Nym was short for Edmund, you know. That’s a -name you can have quite to yourself, if you like it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes; I like it. But I shall only use it when we are alone, lest other -people should find it out. Nym!—I believe it is the name of a horrid -person after all,” as Usk smiled involuntarily. “Then I shall call you -by it all the same, just to punish you. Well, Nym, do you still think -you must go away soon?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not without you. I shall want you to help me with my election when I -get back to England. I’m sure I could never get through it alone.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, do you mean that I may help you—really help you—in your -parliamentary work? What may I do? I know so little.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, you can help me with my speeches—look up references, and that -sort of thing,” said Usk vaguely. “And you could canvass, of course.” -</p> - -<p> -“Canvass? But that is to ask people to vote for you, is it not? And -the English great ladies allow the voters to kiss them, don’t they?” -</p> - -<p> -“<i>You</i> had better not, unless you want me to fight the voters all -round. No; the way of going to work nowadays is to get at the -electors’ wives, and make them promise to influence their husbands.” -</p> - -<p> -“I see. I am to say to them, ‘You must tell your husband to vote for -mine, because I am the person who knows best, and I can assure you how -good he is.’” -</p> - -<p> -“You are nothing but a child after all,” laughed Usk. “And a few -minutes ago I thought you had turned into a woman who was quite a -stranger to me.” -</p> - -<p> -“A child for you to love, and a woman to love you,” said Helene, very -low. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch16"> -CHAPTER XVI.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">BEYOND RECALL.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -“<span class="sc">Oh</span>, Nym, I am so frightened!” -</p> - -<p> -“Why? About what your father will say, do you mean?” -</p> - -<p> -“No; it’s something I have done.” -</p> - -<p> -“What wickedness have you been up to now? An infant like you!—aren’t -you ashamed of yourself?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not exactly ashamed,” said Helene seriously, “but terrified.” -</p> - -<p> -“Hadn’t you better confess? My mind is duly prepared for horrors.” -</p> - -<p> -“If you’ll call me Little Nell, I will.” -</p> - -<p> -“Little schemer, I think. Well, Little Nell?” -</p> - -<p> -Helene put her hand through his arm, and clasped his wrist tightly. -“It seemed such a splendid idea when it came to me first. It was the -very evening that we were—engaged, you know, and I was so happy I -could not sleep, and rather frightened, too, because mamma had been -sitting by me and crying, and saying all the relations would be so -angry. Then I remembered that the Emperor Sigismund was hunting near -Neuburg this week, and I thought I would write to him, and get him on -our side. And I did.” -</p> - -<p> -“How frightfully enterprising! And what does he say?” -</p> - -<p> -“There hasn’t been time for an answer yet. But last night it seemed to -me that it would have been so much better not to write to him -until—until everything was over, you know. And the answer might come -to-day, if he wrote at once. And I am so frightened. I don’t know what -to do.” -</p> - -<p> -“It strikes me you’re much too independent for an engaged young woman. -You deserve a good scolding. Why didn’t you say anything to me?” -</p> - -<p> -“I thought it would be such a nice surprise. I never imagined he might -be angry, somehow. Please scold me, Nym. Then perhaps I shall not be -so frightened.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t think there’s much need for me to scold you,” said Usk -gravely, rising to look down the path which led to the Lauterbach -plateau from the lower world. He and Helene were sitting on the roof -of the Moorish kiosk which was one of the less bizarre erections -scattered about the gardens, and commanded one of the widest views. -“There are people coming up, Lenchen, and one of them looks like——” -</p> - -<p> -“Not cousin Sigismund himself? Oh, Nym!” She was white and trembling, -and her hands gripped his arm convulsively. “Can’t we escape?” -</p> - -<p> -“Where to? Why, Nell, what is there to be afraid of? He can’t eat -you.” -</p> - -<p> -“But if he should want to send you away? He shan’t, he shan’t! If he -does, I will go too. You won’t give me up, Nym?” -</p> - -<p> -“You silly child! I shan’t be asked. They’ll want you to give me up.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then we are quite safe, for I won’t.” -</p> - -<p> -“He’s looking this way; he’s seen you, Nell. Wave your hand and don’t -be frightened. We’ve done nothing to be ashamed of.” -</p> - -<p> -“Of course not. I’m not ashamed. Oh, Nym, he is telling the rest to -ride on. He is dismounting and coming up here. What shall we do? Let -us go down—quick!” -</p> - -<p> -“Remember that you’ll have to ask if you may present me,” said Usk -hurriedly as he followed her down the outside stair. At the foot he -waited, expecting Helene to go forward alone to greet the soldierly -man in hunting costume and Tyrolese hat who had just mounted the knoll -on which the summer-house stood, but she caught his arm and dragged -him forward with her. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, cousin Sigismund, please—this is Usk!” -</p> - -<p> -A more informal presentation there could not have been, and the -Emperor, finding his hand forced, looked almost embarrassed and -decidedly annoyed. He acknowledged Usk’s presence coldly, greeted -Helene with paternal kindness, and sat down on the piazza of the -summer-house, motioning her to a seat beside him; but she preferred to -stand, still gripping Usk’s arm as though to hold him fast. -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t think your friend will run away, Lenchen,” said the Emperor, -with an involuntary smile, as he glanced at the two culprits before -him; and Helene laughed nervously as she released Usk’s arm, still -retaining her hold of his hand, however. Her eyes sought her cousin’s -face anxiously. -</p> - -<p> -“I suppose you know you are a very fortunate young man?” said the -Emperor abruptly to Usk; and both hearers felt that it was not at all -what he had intended to say. -</p> - -<p> -“Most fortunate, sir.” Usk squeezed Helene’s hand reassuringly. -</p> - -<p> -“Have you any explanation to offer of your pres——” Usk felt that -Helene darted a look of angry reproach at the questioner—“of the -ambition which has led you to seek an alliance with the house of -Schwarzwald-Molzau?” -</p> - -<p> -“I can’t say it was exactly ambition, sir. I—I love the Princess——” -</p> - -<p> -“I love him,” interrupted Helene calmly. -</p> - -<p> -The Emperor frowned. “My dear cousin, as a favour to me, allow Lord -Usk to answer for himself. Do you intend to seek a career in Germany, -Lord Usk? You hold a commission in the British army, I believe?” -</p> - -<p> -“Only in the Yeomanry, sir. If I might speak freely to your -Majesty——” -</p> - -<p> -“By all means. That is what I desire.” -</p> - -<p> -“I have no wish to live anywhere but in England, sir. I am my father’s -only son, and have many ties at home. I hope to enter Parliament -before long, and devote myself to a political career.” -</p> - -<p> -“And we shall live in a tall, narrow black house in a square, and I -shall drive him to the House of Commons every evening, and sit up and -look out quotations for his speeches until he comes back,” said Helene -ecstatically. -</p> - -<p> -“At least you have not idealised the prospect!” said the Emperor drily -to Usk, then turned to Helene. “My dear little cousin, might I ask you -to be so very kind as to go and tell your mother of my arrival? You -will do me this favour, won’t you?” -</p> - -<p> -“If you command me as Emperor, I suppose I must,” said Helene -undauntedly, though Usk could feel that she was shaking; “but for -anything short of that I can’t—I mean, I won’t go.” -</p> - -<p> -“Really we could talk business much better,” said Usk, aghast, and at -his wits’ end to know how to act and speak without either offending -the Emperor or wounding Helene’s feelings. She looked at him with high -disdain. -</p> - -<p> -“The Emperor wishes to get rid of me that he may say things to you -which will make you give me up, but he shall say them before me, or -not at all.” -</p> - -<p> -“As you will, little cousin,” said the Emperor carelessly. Then he -turned suddenly a penetrating gaze on Usk. “What part does this -intended marriage of yours play in the plans of your uncle Count -Mortimer? If there is any question of a revival of your father’s -preposterous claim to the throne of Thracia, understand that it will -not be permitted. The unbridled ambition of you Mortimers has already -endangered the peace of Europe too often.” -</p> - -<p> -This time it was Usk who could not help smiling. “If your Majesty knew -my father, you would see how strange it sounds to hear you speak of -unbridled ambition in connection with him. He went to Thracia against -his will, led on by circumstances, and left it with the most intense -pleasure. He would do anything rather than go back there or allow me -to go.” -</p> - -<p> -“You will find it more generally accepted that your father’s ambition -failed him at a critical moment. He aspired to enter the ranks of -reigning sovereigns without submitting to their limitations, and -preferred a marriage of affection to one arranged for state reasons. I -am only doing honour to the foresight of that most accomplished -statesman, Count Mortimer, when I say that if the marriage he -projected for his brother with the lady who is now the Dowager -Princess of Dardania had taken place, we should probably have had a -Mortimer dynasty firmly established in Thracia to-day, and the Balkans -would be less of a menace to European peace. But your father withdrew -from Thracia, and neither he nor his son will be allowed to return -there.” -</p> - -<p> -“May I remind your Majesty that my uncle has devoted his life to the -work of strengthening the throne of the present King of Thracia?” -</p> - -<p> -“I do not presume to fathom your uncle’s plans. But I see that he has -reappeared on the political stage after the check he received in the -Scythian occupation of Jerusalem, and I augur badly from that.” -</p> - -<p> -“Indeed, sir, he is visiting Europe purely on King Michael’s account.” -</p> - -<p> -“And yet I know him to be at this moment the centre of a widely -extended conspiracy, the object of which is to establish him as ruler -of Palestine. You would have me believe that he contrives to ally -himself with half the reigning houses of Europe in a fit of absence of -mind, as you English like it to be thought that you built up a -world-empire? No; if Count Mortimer really wished only to set the -affairs of Thracia in order, and return as a private person to his -retreat in the desert, his judgment is at fault. He should have -married his stepson to the Princess Helene, and you to the American -heiress, leaving her in her original obscurity until the wedding was -over.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I would never have married Michael!” cried Helene, in dismay. -</p> - -<p> -“You would if Count Mortimer had wished you to do so, much as you are -now marrying his nephew, my dear Lenchen,” was the reply. Helene was -about to make an angry answer, but Usk stopped her. -</p> - -<p> -“It is not for me to defend my uncle,” he said hesitatingly, “but if -your Majesty would grant him even a short interview, I think he would -be able to convince you of the honesty of his intentions.” -</p> - -<p> -“Count Mortimer is as yet scarcely in a position that would entitle -him to ask for an interview,” was the reply, “and in view of the -propaganda he is carrying on, I must decline to receive him in -audience. My Chancellor would no doubt be interested in his plans if -he cared to impart them to him. I can quite believe that you have the -fullest belief in your uncle,” this as Usk was digesting the snub as -best he might, “but it is merely another proof of his astuteness. If -you have any regard for his safety, you might warn him that to persist -in his present course will be dangerous in the extreme. He is too much -of a firebrand to be left at large in Europe, and if I feel this, what -must be the sensations of those whose policy he is deliberately -opposing? He will do well to bury himself in the desert again as soon -as possible. This morning I should have advised him also to give up -all hope of the ambitious alliance he has devised for you, but -provided that you and your father refuse to allow yourselves to be -drawn into his schemes——” the Emperor paused. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, you are going to be kind? You will take our part?” gasped Helene. -</p> - -<p> -“Certainly not. I cannot bestow my approval on such marriages as this, -but in the circumstance, and especially if Count Mortimer leaves -Europe immediately, I will not oppose it.” -</p> - -<p> -“The Princess Helene and I are most grateful to you, sir,” said Usk, -wondering that Helene did not speak. But as the Emperor rose to meet -her mother, who had heard of his arrival and come to look for him, she -pressed her lover’s arm. -</p> - -<p> -“You do believe that I love you, Nym? Even if we have to part, you -will never let anything keep you from believing that?” and her face -was pale and anxious again. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, of course not!” said Usk. “But what should part us now?” -</p> - -<p> -<br/> -</p> - -<p> -It happened that Queen Ernestine was spending the morning at the -Schloss, and when the Grand-Duchess brought in the Emperor she was -unable to escape, much to her disgust. The Emperor was very glad to -meet her, and anxious to talk to her about King Michael’s marriage, -but he was careful only to allude to Cyril as if he were still a -trusted minister of state. The Queen had far too much <i>savoir faire</i> -to expose herself to such a rebuff as Usk had incurred, but it was -gall and wormwood to her that her husband’s existence should be thus -pointedly ignored. Her cousin had played a prominent part in bringing -about her unhappy first marriage, and this still rankled in her mind, -so that the time seemed interminable to her which she spent in -answering his questions and receiving his suggestions. The Emperor -departed after lunch, and she returned quickly to Luisenruh, where -Cyril came out to greet her with a smile. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, Ernestine, so you have had a visitor? The excursions and alarms -penetrated even to my quiet retreat here. Was he in a good temper?” -</p> - -<p> -“I think so—for him. He won’t object to Usk’s marrying Helene, though -he doesn’t approve of it, and I am thankful for that. And he approves -of all that has been arranged about Michael—thinks that Molzau is -quite the best place for the wedding, and that your idea of getting my -aunt Amalie to escort Félicia to meet her father’s people is -excellent. But, Cyril——” -</p> - -<p> -“I thought there was something behind. What is it?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t think he wants you to be at the wedding.” -</p> - -<p> -“Is that all? I never thought of being there. The apple of discord -would be nothing to me. The party would scarcely separate without -bloodshed.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then I shall certainly not go either.” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Ernestine, you must. How could you, Michael’s own mother, and -on excellent terms with him, be absent? Without me you will have no -difficulties about precedence. Do you think I could stand your -reducing yourself to a Countess, as I know you would do when you saw -me relegated to my proper place? You must think of Michael’s feelings -a little.” -</p> - -<p> -“I shall speak to Michael. He can’t be so ungrateful as to let you be -slighted after all you have done for him.” -</p> - -<p> -“What can Michael do when he comes in conflict with the unbending laws -of etiquette? No, Ernestine, listen; I have it all nicely mapped out. -We shall both be at Helene’s wedding, at any rate; we won’t let them -do me out of that. Then we will pick up your aunt Amalie and run down -to Nice again, and see Félicia safely into the hands of her father’s -family. You will return to Molzau for the wedding, and I shall go on -to Thracia. Michael and Mirkovics have give me <i>carte blanche</i> as to -reorganising the government offices, so as to prevent corruption in -future, and you will join me at Bellaviste. Then we shall be ready to -welcome Michael and Félicia, and as soon as they have settled down we -will take our leave and be off to Sitt Zeynab, and spend a quiet old -age dispensing justice to the Arabs under our own palm-trees.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I would rather not wait for that until after the wedding. I -should like to go back at once, Cyril—at once, this very day.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m afraid we can’t annihilate time and space quite to that extent. -But I suppose this means that the Emperor has been saying unpleasant -things? I have had Helene here, drowned in tears, and offering to give -up Usk if his marrying her would really bring me into danger. What -does the man mean by trying to frighten two women? Why not say what he -has to say to me?” -</p> - -<p> -“He told me distinctly that you were in danger as long as you remained -in Europe and persisted in your schemes. Poor little Lenchen must have -heard the same.” -</p> - -<p> -“Probably. If we were punished as severely for our evil deeds as for -our good ones, we should come off pretty badly, shouldn’t we, -Ernestine? I’m sure the best thing I ever did in my life was when I -threw myself on your mercy and induced you to marry me, and I’m -tolerably certain the next best was bringing Usk and Helene together, -and yet it’s just those two things these people can’t forgive me.” -</p> - -<p> -“But must you stay, Cyril? Do let us go.” -</p> - -<p> -“Before we have seen the young people made happy? No, no; we’ll see -the thing through after having so much to do with it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, then, as soon as Michael’s wedding is over, you can meet me at -Trieste, and we will leave for Beyrout at once. Why should you run -into danger for the sake of Prince Malasorte?” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s not that. I failed my friends when they trusted me, and now that -they have thrown in their lot with Malasorte, I won’t spoil their -plans a second time, as I should do if I left Europe before he brings -off his <i>coup d’état</i>. They trust him, and I don’t, but if I can help -them a bit by getting public suspicion concentrated on me instead of -him, I will. And that’s my last word, Ernestine.” -</p> - -<p> -<br/> -</p> - -<p> -With a couple of weddings approaching, there was no time to lose, and -the Schwarzwald-Molzau family were most anxious to get the less -important of the two over, and be able to devote themselves to the -preparations for the gorgeous state ceremonial which would mark the -marriage of King Michael. Hence Usk made a hasty business journey to -England very shortly after the Emperor’s visit, and when he returned -it was in company with his parents, who were duly installed by the -Grand-Duke, not with the best possible grace, in a wing of the great -Schloss at Molzau. The transaction with the Aberkerran and Western -Hills Railway Company, to which Cyril had alluded, proved, when -carried out on the lines he suggested, highly beneficial to Lord -Caerleon’s exchequer; and he was able to leave on the minds of the -Molzau people an impression of sober magnificence which checked any -misgivings as to the match their little Princess was making. Quite -unintentionally, Lord Caerleon also produced a distinct impression on -the Grand-Duke, who revenged himself afterwards by alluding to him as -“the stone image,” but at the time actually asked Cyril whether his -brother would like to be received with the honours due to an -ex-sovereign, purely as a compliment, of course, and without prejudice -to King Michael’s rights. Cyril declined the offer on Caerleon’s -behalf, but he derived a good deal of amusement as well as relief from -the fact that his brother could overawe the irascible Grand-Duke to -such an extent that the occasion was not marked by a single burst of -temper. The wedding was very quiet. Princess Theresia induced her -mother to be present, and that amiable lady, who was always at her -daughter’s beck and call, shed the lustre of her historic jewels on -the ceremony, but Europe as a whole turned its head away and refused -to be aware of what was taking place. When the wedding was over, the -bride and bridegroom, with what Usk regarded as a preposterous retinue -of servants, and Helene as the lowest number with which it would be -respectable to travel, betook themselves to the Lebanon, where they -were to meet Philippa and her husband, who had been prevented from -coming to the wedding by the authoritative claims of a son and heir -only a month old. The Grand-Duchess, who had maintained for the past -three months a defiant attitude towards circumstances irresistibly -suggestive of a ruffled hen defending its brood, bewailed the loss of -Helene with floods of tears to Lady Caerleon, Queen Ernestine, -Princess Florian, and Princess Resi by turns, and then settled down to -her usual duty of acting as a buffer between her husband and his -surroundings. Lord and Lady Caerleon returned to England, and Cyril -and his wife journeyed back to Nice, in company with Princess Amalie -of Weldart, the Queen’s aunt, who disapproved highly of Helene’s -marriage, but had not been able to bring herself to stay away from the -wedding. -</p> - -<p> -Félicia was now very near the realisation of her hopes. Princess -Amalie, who was her great-aunt, was to take charge of her at Nice and -deliver her over to Don Ramon of Arragon, who was to await her with -his family at the Pannonian seaport close to which her father’s youth -had been passed. Her position was now recognised in the Court circle, -and after the reception by her uncle it would be made evident to the -world. With considerate regard for the endurance both of Félicia and -her new-found relatives, it had been arranged that her marriage with -King Michael was to follow as soon as the long journey from the coast -to Molzau would allow, and this visit to Nice was for her a delightful -whirl of congenial toils. Dresses, jewellery, furs, decorations and -furniture for the palace at Bellaviste, servants’ liveries, the exact -constitution of her court, all these things had to be thought of, -discussed, decided upon. King Michael was determined to spare no pains -nor expense in gratifying the wishes of his bride; and it was well -that Félicia had the good taste and loving advice of the Baroness -Radnika at hand, and also the wide experience of Mr Hicks, whose -sarcastic humour restrained her from not a few follies. Revelling in -the interest she excited, for her story had long since leaked out, she -was absolutely busy and perfectly happy, save for one shadow of a -cloud in her sky. -</p> - -<p> -“Maimie,” she exclaimed incredulously, as they were looking through -the letters and papers that awaited them on their arrival at Nice. -“Come and look here—right now. Usk is married!” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I guess he hasn’t wasted much time lamenting you,” said Maimie. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s to the Grand-Duke’s daughter, the little pale girl—and they -haven’t ever told us!” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, you know every one said she must be in love with some other man -when she was engaged to the Scythian Prince and looked so miserable. -Of course it was Usk, and now Count Mortimer has had him marry her.” -</p> - -<p> -“He’ll be real good to her,” said Félicia slowly. -</p> - -<p> -“What’s that to you, any way?” was the sharp response. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I don’t know. Say, Maimie, is the ‘chapel attached to the -Grand-Ducal Palace at Molzau’ the same as the Schlosskirche where I’m -to be married? No bridesmaids, of course—I do hate that. I always -meant to design the cunningest costumes for my bridesmaids. ‘The -Marchioness of Caerleon was gowned in panne of an exquisite shade of -heliotrope, with the famous family emeralds’—guess she looked just -elegant, don’t you? ‘Her Royal Highness Princess Florian of Arragon in -<i>gris argent</i> brocade, the corsage almost covered with the magnificent -Mohacsy diamonds,’ ‘the Princess Franz Immanuel of -Schwarzwald-Molzau’—that’s my cousin Resi, of course—‘in pink satin -and pearls.’ What did the Grand-Duchess wear, I’d like to know? -Crimson velvet, I guess. ‘The bride’s travelling-dress was trimmed -with exquisite Eastern embroidery, sent from Palestine by the -bridegroom’s sister, Lady Philippa Mansfield.’ Did Phil mean that for -me when she bought it, do you think, Maimie? But there don’t seem to -be much to say about her wedding-gown—just that she wore the Caerleon -pearls. I guess I shall go one better in gowns, any way.” -</p> - -<p> -“I just know you will,” responded Maimie. “Why, you’ll be a queen, -Fay.” -</p> - -<p> -“That is so.” Félicia’s tone sounded a little wistful. “I can’t seem -to feel real happy, Maimie. It’ll be you and me one side, and Michael -the other, all the time. Being queen will be just elegant, but—— -Michael’s awfully in love with me, but I don’t trust him, and he don’t -trust me.” -</p> - -<p> -“And Usk you did trust,” cried Maimie, much alarmed by the turn the -conversation was taking, “and he marries another girl right away, -before you’re married yourself, even. Don’t you see the way it is, -Fay? It’s just that he won’t look as if he had been jilted—just -pride, and not anything more. He don’t care a red cent for this other -girl, but he’s set on making you mad. I wouldn’t have him do it.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, I don’t feel mad, only a little sorry. And not real sorry, -either, for I wouldn’t go way back now. It’s just that it’s the end, -Maimie.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s so, and I’m real glad of it, for you won’t ever be able to -reproach yourself about Usk again. And as to Michael, don’t be afraid. -We’ll fix him up some way. You and I will have some place just all to -ourselves, so’s we can forget all of the stuff the Baroness has been -teaching us, and have a good time together, chewing gum and talking -the way we choose, and no other person shall come in there.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you don’t hate turning into a hired girl?” asked Félicia, rather -doubtfully. -</p> - -<p> -“Not a cent, so long as you are queen. I’d as lief be hired girl as -not, so’s I can fix it that I wait on you. They won’t turn you into a -statue while I’m around.” -</p> - -<p> -It was only when she was alone with Félicia that Maimie ventured to -speak thus freely nowadays. She had fallen quite naturally into the -position of her friend’s confidential lady-in-waiting, and had -profited by the teachings of Baroness Radnika a good deal more readily -than Félicia herself. Her influence was invaluable, said the -Baroness, and no one dreamed of the absolute equality to which the two -girls returned when they were unobserved. When Princess Amalie -arrived, she took a great fancy to Maimie. Félicia was just a little -difficult to manage sometimes, she admitted, “but that good creature -Logan” could nearly always persuade her to see reason. Princess Amalie -was a cheerful old lady, whose temper did not seem to have been soured -by the fact that her lack of beauty had driven her family to provide -for her by making her a canoness. The semi-conventual title ensured -her a position of independence, a sufficient income, and a home at the -Stift, or Institution, whenever she was not visiting her relations, -which was very seldom, for she made up for not possessing a family of -her own by taking the keenest interest in the affairs of her large -circle of nephews and nieces. In nearly all the Courts of Europe she -was “everybody’s aunt,” and every one confided in her, although she -had a perfect genius for betraying secrets to the very people to whom -they ought not to be told. Very soon after her arrival at Nice -Félicia knew of all the discourteous and uncomplimentary remarks her -uncle Don Ramon had made when he found himself forced to acknowledge -an American niece, and Maimie had heard a second time that Cyril had -advised King Michael to get rid of her before he married Félicia. -Both of them had drunk in with keen delight Princess Amalie’s account -of the disgust felt by all the younger branches of the -Schwarzwald-Molzau family and their relations over Helene’s marriage, -and the almost total lack of wedding-presents and royal guests. It was -this which pleased Félicia most, but Maimie took an even greater -pleasure in the further resolution which seemed to have been generally -formed by King Michael’s family, that they would not attend his -wedding if Count Mortimer was to be present. Any slight inflicted upon -the man who had tried to separate her from Félicia she accepted as a -boon to herself, and it happened that there was another person who -felt with her. -</p> - -<p> -About three days after Princess Amalie’s arrival, it struck her -suddenly that she ought to call upon the Princess of Dardania, who was -also her niece, but whom she had not seen for some time, owing to the -unfortunate series of events which had long ago alienated the Princess -from her relations. Félicia was driving with Queen Ernestine, with -whom she agreed as well as could be expected when they had not a -single taste or thought in common, and as Princess Amalie’s own <i>dame -d’honneur</i> was ill, she borrowed Maimie for the afternoon. Maimie had -by this time become accustomed to being regarded as a mere chattel, an -appendage to Félicia, and was by no means loath to accompany the old -lady, from whose chatter she expected to pick up a good deal of useful -information. She knew that the Princess of Dardania had an old grudge -against Count Mortimer, and as she sat silent and apart during the -visit, holding Princess Amalie’s lap-dog, she heard, as she had -anticipated, the canoness beginning her tale afresh. Every disparaging -remark, every calculated rebuff, was detailed over again, the Princess -of Dardania listening with lazy satisfaction, commenting on what she -heard rather with her great black eyes and arched eyebrows than by -word of mouth. -</p> - -<p> -“Then what is the poor Count to do, while Ernestine queens it at -Molzau, and he is shut out?” she asked at last. “Will he go to -England, to his brother?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t quite know,” said Princess Amalie, unwilling to confess -herself at a loss. “Ah, but Miss Logan will know. They were explaining -their plans to Félicia last night, and she was there.” -</p> - -<p> -“And did Miss Logan happen to hear how Count Mortimer proposed to -enjoy his week of liberty?” asked the Princess. -</p> - -<p> -“He is going to Thracia, madame, and her Majesty is to join him -there.” -</p> - -<p> -“To Thracia—from the south of Pannonia? It will be a long journey.” -</p> - -<p> -Maimie was conscious of something in the Princess’s tone which seemed -like repressed excitement. She answered promptly, “He intends to go -through Illyria, madame. There is only a few miles of country between -the Pannonian and Mœsian railways, and he will save time by driving -from one to the other instead of taking the long round.” -</p> - -<p> -“To drive across Illyria—— Ah!” said the Princess slowly. Again -there was that hint of eagerness in her manner, and Maimie caught it. -The Princess looked up, and saw the responsive sparkle in her eye. -Instantly her own face changed. “Illyria is a country of very -beautiful scenery. I have travelled there a good deal,” she said, with -a dead calmness in her tone, and Maimie was left to wonder what -memory, or what project, had provoked that sudden excitement. For some -reason she suspected that it did not bode well for Count Mortimer, and -she was glad of it, though it was not evident to her what the Princess -could do to annoy him. -</p> - -<p> -A few days later, the Bluebird left the Western Mediterranean for the -port at which Don Ramon of Arragon was to welcome his niece. The Queen -and Cyril were on board, so was Princess Amalie, and so also was Mr -Hicks, who was understood to occupy the position of the late Prince -Joseph’s man of business. A high honour was awaiting Félicia, for the -Emperor of Pannonia happened to be visiting the port; and when Don -Ramon’s arrival was delayed, through some accident or mistake which -was hinted not to be altogether accidental, he took upon himself the -duty of welcoming her and Princess Amalie. Queen Ernestine went -northwards to Molzau, Cyril started on his journey to Thracia, and -Félicia, with her train of followers, was delivered into the hands of -her uncle. He proved to be a stern-faced elderly man, early soured by -the loss of all his prospects, and interested in humanity only from -the point of view of a student of brain disease. His wife was so -completely his shadow that she was known as “la Ramona” at the -Pannonian Court; but she had individuality enough to disapprove very -heartily of heretics, Americans, and people who were not <i>hoffähig</i> -generally, and to regard Félicia as an example of all three. The -daughters were uninteresting girls, keenly on the look-out for -something shocking in everything their new cousin said or did, and -Félicia expressed privately to Maimie her opinion that even if her -whole fortune had been divided among them they would not have married. -But these unpleasing family characteristics were merely spots in the -sun. Félicia’s ambition was on the eve of attainment. She was -recognised as a daughter of Arragon, and as the Princess Doña -Feliciana Josefa was on her way to Molzau to receive a crown—and -incidentally, to marry a king. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch17"> -CHAPTER XVII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">MISSING.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -“<span class="sc">Well</span>, Phil, what do you think of your sister-in-law? Isn’t she an -amusing child?” -</p> - -<p> -“She is amusing, but she’s not a child—or at any rate, she’s a woman -as well.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, Phil, I swear to you I feel like a showman, or old Barlow in -‘Sandford and Merton,’ or a benevolent uncle taking a small kid to the -Zoo—like anything but a husband. Now, do we look like a married -couple?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not a bit. How funny! It was only this morning that it struck me you -looked like a kind elder brother taking his little sister out on a -half-holiday. Helene was hanging on your arm and looking up into your -face, and chattering hard the whole time.” -</p> - -<p> -“Of course. She’s nothing but a child. She has been nowhere, seen -nothing, heard nothing, and her mother has done all she could to keep -her a baby. Everything is new and interesting to her, and life is a -nice new game. I keep thinking of that absurd story of the wife of -some literary man who chose a house because ‘the garden would be so -lovely for her and Percy to play in.’ I’m certain Helene would be -attracted by a good lot of bushes. She’d think they would be so -convenient for hide-and-seek.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m glad the more obvious literary parallel hasn’t occurred to you,” -said Philippa severely. -</p> - -<p> -“More obvious even than that? Oh, I know! David Cop——” -</p> - -<p> -“If you say it, I shall throw this book at you. She is a dear little -thing, Usk, and you don’t appreciate her a bit.” -</p> - -<p> -“I know she’s a dear little thing, and I’m awfully fond of her. And no -doubt it’s most excellent for her to be firmly convinced that I know -everything. Plenty of men would give their ears for their wives to -think so. But it’s horribly embarrassing for me when she looks up at -me just like a child and asks some perfectly impossible question.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, not like a child. A child is never satisfied if you can’t answer -it. ‘Don’t you know? Why don’t you know? Does anybody know? Then <i>why</i> -don’t you know?’ You used to go on like that yourself; I can remember -it quite well. But when Helene finds she has asked a question you -can’t answer, she’s dreadfully afflicted, and looks round to make sure -that Fred and I haven’t noticed.” -</p> - -<p> -“Poor little girl! But really, Phil, we get on perfectly well, and -she’s continually assuring me that she was never so happy in her -life.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes; but I am in constant terror that her eyes will be opened. I -always try to draw her in when you and I are talking. Don’t you see -how it is? You consult me about what you are going to do, but you tell -her about it when it’s all settled. And she has a right to be -consulted.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, nonsense! I don’t want her to worry herself. She’s a dear little -comrade as it is, and I believe I’d rather she remained a child, after -all. She—she’s so awfully contented and satisfied now, you know.” -</p> - -<p> -Philippa nodded her head sagely. “That’s just it. You think that as a -woman she would demand more from you. But she is a woman in the way -she loves you, Usk. I can see that.” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Phil, you are most penetrating and far-sighted, I don’t -doubt, but after all, I’m Helene’s husband, and I may be allowed to -know her better than you do. Look at her now, tormenting old Fred with -a catechism on vine-growing. She’s only a child, vividly interested in -everything, and devoted to me just because I’ve been kind to her—as -if I could help it. I suppose she’ll grow up some day, but I’m not -going to turn her into a little old woman before the time.” -</p> - -<p> -Philippa rose and looked over the carved wooden railing that -safeguarded the balcony, for the house stood on a precipitous -hillside. Up the winding path her husband and Helene were slowly -climbing, with a pleasant murmur of voices, after visiting the -vineyard which occupied a more gradual slope below. Far in the -distance could be seen the blue of the Mediterranean, with a -wilderness of hills between, some bare and rugged, others cultivated -almost to the summit. The native house in which the Mansfields had -taken refuge from the heat and possible fever of the Palestinian -lowlands where their work lay was situated on the western slope of -Mount Lebanon. -</p> - -<p> -“They won’t be here for a minute,” said Philippa hastily. “Usk, tell -me quickly—I’m most frightfully anxious—is it because you are still -in love with Félicia that you can’t care properly for Helene?” -</p> - -<p> -Usk laughed. “You’ve quite determined that I’m a brute to Helene. No, -Phil, I can’t say that I feel the very slightest envy of King Michael. -If Félicia was cruel, she was kind too. As I was not to love her, she -left me nothing to do but hate her. No, I don’t mean that exactly. You -know, don’t you?” -</p> - -<p> -“And now she has probably had her wish, and been a queen, for two -days. It doesn’t seem at all fair or moral. Even Becky Sharp never -quite succeeded in getting what she wanted. But she’s out of your way, -and I’m glad of it. Poor little Helene must ‘dree her ain weird,’ I -suppose, as you won’t listen to what I say about her.” -</p> - -<p> -“A telegram!” cried Helene, running up the steps at the end of the -balcony. “We met the servant coming from Beyrout with the letters, and -he had this for you, Usk. What can it be?” -</p> - -<p> -“What can it be?” echoed Usk, as he tore open the envelope. “I say!” -his tone changed. “Just listen: ‘Your uncle has disappeared. Meet me -immediately at Novigrad, <i>viâ</i> Trieste.—<span class="sc">Ernestine</span>.’ What does it -mean?” -</p> - -<p> -“Uncle Cyril disappeared!” gasped Philippa. -</p> - -<p> -“They’ve murdered him at last!” cried Mansfield. “Don’t stand staring, -Usk; they shall pay for it! We’ll track them to the world’s end.” -</p> - -<p> -“It doesn’t say he’s dead,” suggested Helene, very pale. “Perhaps it’s -brigands, and they are holding him to ransom.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, at any rate, we must find him,” said Mansfield. “If we go down -to Beyrout to-night, we can catch the steamer to-morrow morning, Usk.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, no,” said Usk, recovering himself. “You must stay here. We can’t -leave the girls alone. Besides, there’s your work.” -</p> - -<p> -“Hang the work!” cried Mansfield. “The girls will look after one -another.” -</p> - -<p> -“No,” said Helene, very quietly, but with white determination, “I am -going with Usk.” -</p> - -<p> -“Nonsense, Lenchen! I can’t take you. You’ll stay with Phil and the -baby.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am going with you,” repeated Helene. “Or if you refuse to let me -come with you, I shall follow you by the next steamer, and Phil will -help me, because she knows I am right in going.” -</p> - -<p> -“She is, indeed, Usk,” said Philippa. “With you to take care of her, -what reason is there why she shouldn’t go?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, dozens! It’s simply preposterous. I shall be rushing about into -all sorts of places, where I couldn’t take a lady. You don’t know how -rough things are in Illyria.” -</p> - -<p> -“I can live upon black bread and goats’ milk,” said Helene calmly, -“and you couldn’t.” -</p> - -<p> -“But I can’t trail about a whole procession of servants. Everything -may depend upon following up a clue quickly.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then we will leave some of them behind. I promised mamma I would -never travel without Hannele and Jakob—she was afraid of my becoming -English and independent, so she made me promise not to go about -unattended,” explained Helene rather piteously to Philippa—“so we -must take them; but with your William besides, we can manage quite -well.” -</p> - -<p> -“Now you know you only want William because his name is the same as -the groom’s in ‘Mademoiselle Mathilde,’” said Usk unkindly. -</p> - -<p> -“No,” said Helene, with dignity. “It is because it is not suitable for -my husband to have no attendant while I have two.” -</p> - -<p> -“And look here, Usk,” said Mansfield; “you can establish your wife and -the servants comfortably at some safe centre while you go off and -follow up clues. It’ll be much better for her to have some one with -her.” -</p> - -<p> -“That is not what I want,” objected Helene—“to be left safe and -comfortable while Usk goes into danger. I want to go with him and -help.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, but you don’t want to be in the way, Lenchen,” said Philippa, -speaking with the authority of a whole year of matrimonial experience. -“You will do as Usk thinks best, I know, and he’ll take you with him -wherever he can, won’t you, Usk?” -</p> - -<p> -“Rather!” said Usk forgivingly, and Helene brushed away a threatening -tear or two, and smiled up at him. -</p> - -<p> -“Because, you see,” Philippa went on, “this is such an awful thing -that we must none of us think about ourselves at all, only about Uncle -Cyril and how to find him. We had better settle that you are to -telegraph for Fred the moment you want him, Usk. I don’t think he -ought to leave Palestine until you see what there is to be done, for I -know the Chevalier Goldberg considers his presence here very -important.” -</p> - -<p> -“I hate being made a part of a plot and not seeing how it works,” said -Mansfield gloomily. “If you wire I’ll come like a shot, Usk. Which is -the quickest way?” -</p> - -<p> -“To land in Dardania and cross the mountains, if the steamers fit. Why -does Aunt Ernestine tell me to come round by Trieste, I wonder?” -</p> - -<p> -“Because she has reason to distrust Dardania, probably. It’s quite -possible that our friend the Dowager Princess has allies there still.” -</p> - -<p> -“You are puzzling Helene,” said Usk. “She doesn’t know all the ins and -outs of the family differences.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I know that Cousin Ottilie was very angry about Aunt Ernestine’s -marriage, and said horrid things about the dear Count,” said Helene; -and then the subject dropped, as Philippa suggested that it was time -to pack. -</p> - -<p> -Five days later Usk and Helene, with their diminished retinue, were -landing at Trieste, after eagerly seizing upon the papers brought out -by the boats which boarded the steamer outside the harbour. When they -left Beyrout, no news had arrived concerning the disappearance of -Count Mortimer beyond the Queen’s telegram, but in these European -papers it was the sensation of the hour. The circumstances appeared -equally simple and perplexing. The Count, with his secretary and -valet, had left the Pannonian railway at its termination on the -eastern border of the Illyrian Provinces, and, like other travellers, -hired a carriage to convey him across the debatable land which was -owned by Roum, partially occupied by Pannonia, and unceasingly coveted -both by Dardania and Mœsia. The Roumi Government had refused -persistently, and from its own point of view wisely, to allow any -railway to be built across this strip of territory, but there was a -carriage road, kept in good order by Pannonian military engineers, -which connected the Pannonian railway system on the western border -with that of Mœsia on the east. Quitting Novigrad in Illyria, the -party had arrived safely at a posting-station bearing the uneuphonious -name of Klotsch, situated near the point at which the main road into -Dardania crossed, almost at right angles, that which joined the two -railways. Here, while the horses were changed, the travellers alighted -for dinner, only to find when the meal was over that their driver had -got drunk. The landlord volunteered to provide another, but he had to -be sought for in the village, and Count Mortimer, who was obviously -impatient at the delay, decided to walk on with his secretary, and -allow the carriage, with the valet and the luggage, to overtake him. -It was a long light summer evening, and he was anxious to reach the -Mœsian frontier that night. The carriage started about a quarter of -an hour later, but the driver and the valet were astonished to find -that they did not come up with the walkers, although the horses were -fresh and the road good. In ever-increasing astonishment they drove -the whole way to the customs-station on the Mœsian border without -meeting any one, and learned there that Count Mortimer and his -companion had not arrived. The valet became immediately very much -excited, and demanded a force of gendarmes from the Pannonian -frontier-post, in order to go back and make a thorough search on both -sides of the road for his master, who, he declared, must have been -waylaid and murdered. The officer in charge of the post received the -demand with contempt and some resentment, for the road was regarded as -particularly safe, but the valet’s earnestness, and his declaration -that he believed his master had enemies who would stick at nothing to -get him out of the way, induced him to send a patrol with torches to -search the roadsides as far as Klotsch. Messengers were also sent -along the road which led into the Dardanian highlands, to inquire -whether the two men had taken the wrong turning and gone that way by -mistake; but neither at the one country-seat which stood in the -neighbourhood, nor in any of the poor hamlets along the road, had -anything been seen of them. The country-house belonged to Prince -Valerian Pelenko, a cousin of the Prince of Dardania, and he himself, -travelling to “Europe,” had passed through Klotsch with his attendants -shortly after the carriage had started. He had not met it, for it -would have passed the cross-road before his carriage turned into the -main highway, and most certainly he had not met the missing men, for -his attendants would have been sure to report at the posting-station -the astonishing sight of two “European” gentlemen walking unattended -along the road. Extraordinary as it seemed, there was no doubt that -Count Mortimer and his secretary had disappeared as completely as -though they had not been, and that the disappearance had taken place -on the high road and almost in broad daylight. There were no signs of -a struggle, and tentative suggestions of a landslip, or a fall over a -steep place on the edge of the road, were scouted at once, for there -was absolutely not the slightest indication of either. The English -papers, taking up Count Mortimer’s cause with a vigour they had seldom -displayed during his career, were drawing parallels between his -disappearance and that of the unfortunate Mr Benjamin Bathurst in the -early years of the nineteenth century, and hinting that as similar -influences were in all probability at work, the fate of the one was -likely to remain, like that of the other, an unsolved mystery. The -Neustrian, Scythian, and Roumi papers, relying on the known antipathy -of their respective Governments to the Pannonian occupation of the -Illyrian Provinces, were urgent and eloquent in their representations -that Pannonia had now conclusively proved herself unfitted to -discharge her duties, since she could not even protect travellers on -the high road. The Pannonian papers, unable to deny the facts, took -refuge in the assertion that Count Mortimer’s disappearance was purely -voluntary. For reasons of his own he had made up his mind to vanish, -and he had done so, and who could be held responsible for the doings -of a man whose pride it had always been to baffle and astonish the -rest of Europe? This was the state of things at present. Queen -Ernestine, in the deepest grief and anxiety, was at Novigrad, where -Lord Caerleon had joined her as fast as steam could bring him from -England, and they were making a comprehensive search throughout the -whole district, aided by the best detectives that money could procure. -</p> - -<p> -“It looks hopeless!” said Usk despondently to Helene, as they walked -up the quay at Trieste. “One almost wonders—— Now then, where are -you going to?” The words were addressed to a loutish youth, apparently -a dockyard loafer of the usual type, who had lurched up against him; -but as the man withdrew with a surly apology, Usk found a piece of -paper in his hand. Guessing that it contained some secret information, -he unfolded one of the newspapers he had bought, as if to look at the -page again, and laid the paper against it. “Look here, Helene!” he -said. -</p> - -<p> -Helene glanced quickly at the scrap of writing. -</p> - -<div class="letter"> - -<p> -“When you leave Trieste this afternoon, watch out for me. I shall be -fooling around at the depot with a camera, and I don’t want to have -you seem to know me. Get into talk with me the way you would with a -stranger, for I must speak to you.—<span class="sc">Hicks</span>.” -</p> - -</div> - -<p> -“This gentleman is some English peer of your acquaintance?” said -Helene, looking respectfully at the signature. -</p> - -<p> -Usk smothered a laugh. “Not exactly,” he said. “He’s the American -newspaper man you’ve heard so much about, and a real good fellow. If -you’ll excuse me, Nell, I’ll light a cigar.” -</p> - -<p> -“A long way round!” said Helene, as he twisted the paper into a roll, -and striking a match, set light to it, instead of lighting the cigar -with the match. -</p> - -<p> -“If you mean a roundabout way, my child, why not say so? Don’t you see -that Hicks evidently expects us to be watched? I daren’t leave that -paper lying about, or even tear it up. Now will you keep your eyes -open this afternoon, and express innocent wonder if you see a long -scraggy fellow, with a thin grey beard, taking snap-shots? That’ll -give us an opportunity to get into conversation.” -</p> - -<p> -Helene promised to be on the watch, and very soon after they reached -the station she pulled Usk’s sleeve. “Do look at that gentleman taking -photographs,” she said, with admirable innocence. “It must be so -interesting to be able to do it! All these quaint costumes——” -</p> - -<p> -“They’re nothing to what you’ll see in the Balkans,” said Usk. “What a -pity we didn’t think of bringing a kodak. But we might send for one, -of course. Would you mind allowing my wife to see how your camera -works?” he asked of the photographer, who had been listening with a -twinkle in his eye while pretending to focus an Albanian group on the -opposite platform. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, certainly,” was the hearty response. “You hold it this way, and -you put your eye here—— But if we move away a step or so, we won’t -be so crowded. I have a whole-souled admiration for your manner of -meeting me, sir,” added Mr Hicks, in a lower tone, as he exhibited the -camera and appeared to be describing its mechanism. “And this is the -little Princess?” -</p> - -<p> -“No,” said Helene. “It is Lady Usk.” -</p> - -<p> -“Is that so?” asked Mr Hicks slowly, manipulating a screw. “Well, I -incline to think Lord Usk has struck ile.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know English quite well yet,” said Helene apologetically. -</p> - -<p> -“I guess your husband has found the pay-streak, then.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m afraid there must be a great many words I don’t know. I must look -them out.” -</p> - -<p> -“Mr Hicks wants me to understand that I’ve married a treasure, -Lenchen. Does that satisfy you? Well, Hicks, what’s the plan of -campaign?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, just this, sir. There are the Queen and your father turning the -Illyrian Provinces upside down, and a whole army of detectives -figuring around. But those that took on this big risk mean to see it -through, and they will pour out the dollars like water to keep truth -at the bottom of her well. They know just who’s on their trail, and -they have covered their tracks. I have concluded to work back of them, -instead of in front, which is high-toned, but renders a man more -liable to sudden death than appeals to me. I am working up the -Illyrian Provinces with typewriter and camera, <i>sabe</i>? on behalf of a -monster tourist agency in the States that’s set on exploiting them, -and you may bet your last red cent my eyes will be open for any -suspicious circumstances. I’d like to fix up a code for communicating -with you——” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, please,” said Helene, “pardon my interrupting you, but I have -just seen my cousin, the Princess of Dardania, getting out of the -train at the end of the platform, and I thought from what Usk -said——” -</p> - -<p> -With great dexterity Mr Hicks withdrew himself behind a pile of -luggage. “You’re real smart, Lady Usk. If her Royal Highness had seen -us together, it would have been just about the meanest trick fate -could have played us. Coming off the cars from Illyria, was she? Now -what’s she been doing way down there? She was at Nice yet when we quit -it before the wedding. You don’t think she saw us, do you?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, I’m sure she didn’t, but she is coming this way.” -</p> - -<p> -“Helene, you’ll have to face her,” said Usk. “I must arrange things -with Hicks. If I establish you on this seat, with a bodyguard of -servants in the background, while I go and see about the luggage, you -won’t move away till I come back, will you? and you’ll try to keep her -in talk?” -</p> - -<p> -“But there is no need to see about the luggage,” Helene called after -him, as he hurried away; “the railway officials look after that, or -you can send one of the servants.” But he was already out of earshot, -and Helene rose to meet the Princess, who swept towards her with -outstretched hands, making her feel incredibly young and small. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, my little Lenchen!” cried Princess Ottilie; “do I find you -alone? What has happened to the Fairy Prince—fairy peer I should say, -should I not?” -</p> - -<p> -“Usk is gone to look after the luggage,” said Helene. -</p> - -<p> -“The ruling passion of the Englishman on his travels! And are you -tired of one another yet, my romantic Lenchen?” -</p> - -<p> -“I am certainly not tired of him, Cousin Ottilie.” -</p> - -<p> -“What freezing coldness, little one! But I forgot that you had married -into a romantic family. The Mortimers and their wives are always -absurdly attached to one another. It is quite -<i>bürgerlich</i>—middle-class, I suppose your new relations would call -it.” -</p> - -<p> -“If it is middle-class to be fond of one’s husband, then I am -middle-class,” said Helene. -</p> - -<p> -“You—the descendant of Charlemagne! And you are allowing your husband -to drag you into exile already? Where are you going with this -wonderful luggage which needs so much looking after?” -</p> - -<p> -“Can you ask, Cousin Ottilie? Of course we are going to Novigrad, to -help look for the dear Count.” -</p> - -<p> -“To help look for——? Oh, Count Mortimer!” the Princess broke into a -soft peal of laughter. “My darling Lenchen, you must forgive me. It -really did not occur to me whom you meant. Has it never struck any of -you that Count Mortimer might prefer not to be looked for?” -</p> - -<p> -“How could it? What can you mean?” -</p> - -<p> -The Princess drew a letter from her pocket. “Of course Lord Usk won’t -believe me,” she said, “but I should really like to save you two from -taking a journey into the wilds for no reason at all.” -</p> - -<p> -“Cousin Ottilie! why shouldn’t Usk believe you?” cried Helene, aghast. -</p> - -<p> -“My dear child, he is prejudiced, of course,” but the Princess seemed -a little confused, and unfolded the letter quickly, as though to -forestall further questioning. “This is from my husband’s cousin, -Valerian Pelenko. I have just been paying a flying visit to -Dardania—to see the new baby, not to stay; Emilia and I agree better -apart—and I wrote to ask whether I might spend a night at his house -near Klotsch on the journey. Here is what he says: ‘Pray consider my -house as your own, as often and as long as you like. I am sorry to be -away. By the bye, I had a curious <i>rencontre</i> just as I was leaving -home. Do you remember the man Mortimer, who made rather a -laughing-stock of himself at Ludwigsbad two or three years ago by -aspiring to your particular favour? Naturally you will remember him; -he found your cousin Ernestine of Thracia less hard-hearted than -yourself, I recollect. Well, as I was driving towards Klotsch, before -we turned into the Novigrad road, we met another carriage, and in it I -saw Count Mortimer and a lady, with whom he seemed to be on excellent -terms——’” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, it must be a mistake!” cried Helene. “Why, Aunt Ernestine was at -Molzau, at Michael’s wedding.” -</p> - -<p> -“My dear Lenchen, let me entreat you not to make that remark to your -husband when you tell him this, or he will set you down for ever as a -fool. Valerian goes on: ‘There were servants and luggage, and all the -necessaries for a long journey, apparently. Doubtless your friend was -bound, by way of Dardania, for the Ionian Isles, or some similar -region of delight, where a spot or two may yet be found destitute of -the moral code, as I once heard an Englishman say of the East -generally. Happy he! What are your plans for the autumn? I am too late -for Ludwigsbad this year, alas!’ That is all that concerns the Count,” -said the Princess, folding the letter, as Helene sat dumb. “And here -is your husband, come to sweep you into the train with the rest of the -luggage, I suppose. How do you do, Lord Usk? So delightful to get this -short glimpse of little Lenchen! She really looks younger than ever -since you married her.” -</p> - -<p> -Helene was still speechless as the Princess bade her an affectionate -farewell, and gave her hand to Usk that he might lead her to her -carriage. When he returned to warn Helene that their train was coming -in, she turned an ashy face to him. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Nym, I must tell you. She says such things——” -</p> - -<p> -“Wait until we’re in the train,” said Usk; and it was only when they -were moving out of the station that he turned to her with, “Well, what -is it, Nell?” -</p> - -<p> -“She says that the dear Count went away of his own accord, with—with -a lady, and that he doesn’t want to be found.” -</p> - -<p> -“Not content with kidnapping him, they try to take away his character, -do they?” said Usk savagely. “She wants to hurt Aunt Ernestine, do you -see, Nell? We won’t tell her if we can help it. Of course you don’t -believe the story?” -</p> - -<p> -“Of course not. But it is so dreadful that people should say such -things about him, when we know how good he is, how——” Helene’s voice -failed. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, we know that no one will believe it who knows anything of him. -She must have thought you very young, and ready to believe anything, -mustn’t she? Poor little Nell!” He put his arm round her, and drew her -close to him, regardless of the fact that the guard might appear at -any moment. -</p> - -<p> -“But how terrible that she should say such things, when she knows they -are not true! Our own cousin, Nym!” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, well, you see, she has a grudge against him.” -</p> - -<p> -“But why? What has he done?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, she wishes it to be understood that he proposed to her at -Ludwigsbad a year or two back, and she refused him. That sort of thing -generally makes a woman pursue a man with implacable hatred, doesn’t -it? What do you say?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, I should have thought just the opposite—that she would be as -kind to him as possible, and fearfully sorry that he should love her -in vain.” -</p> - -<p> -“So should I. And we think, all of us—mind, he has never said a word -on the subject—that she—well, that it was the other way about.” -</p> - -<p> -“That she proposed to him, and he refused her? Oh, Nym!” -</p> - -<p> -“And he married Aunt Ernestine. That’s where the sting comes in, you -see. Why, what’s the matter, Nell?” for Helene was crying. -</p> - -<p> -“I never thought people could be so wicked,” she murmured at last. -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, you’ll find worse things done than that,” said Usk sagely. “Now -do you see why Hicks thinks the Princess is mixed up in whatever has -happened?” -</p> - -<p> -“But what could she have done?” -</p> - -<p> -“He’s quite certain there has been foul play, and he thinks the most -likely thing is that they have hired a band of brigands to carry him -off into the hills. You see, the district is a sort of No Man’s Land, -and the brigands may have come from any part of the Balkans. They may -even have taken him down into the Roumi territory to the south, where -an army couldn’t find him. But Hicks doesn’t believe it’s as bad as -that,” quickly. “He thinks it’s much more likely they have got him -somewhere in the Dardanian mountains.” -</p> - -<p> -“And does he hope to find him?” -</p> - -<p> -“He’s going to try. By the bye, he is to get a camera for us, and send -us hints on photography from time to time, and we have arranged a code -with the technical words. So cheer up, Nell. We’ll outwit them yet.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch18"> -CHAPTER XVIII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">WANDERING FIRES.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">It</span> was on a day of appalling dust and heat that Usk and his wife -arrived at the Illyrian town of Novigrad. The place stood among hills -which had been left stony and treeless by several centuries of Roumi -domination, but up which patches of woodland were beginning to creep -under the fostering care of the Pannonian officials in charge of the -province. There was a sparkling river which flowed in a rocky channel -through the town, and many of the houses on the outskirts were -embowered in greenery, but the general impression was of glaring white -walls, dazzling roofs and blinding dust, and an atmosphere of heat -from which no refuge could be found. Helene was nearly fainting when -Usk helped her out of the carriage at the door of the solitary hotel, -and her plight moved an elderly man of Jewish appearance, who was -sitting in a dejected attitude on the terrace in front, to catch up a -glass of sherbet, and hasten to her assistance with a murmur of -sympathy. -</p> - -<p> -“Place de younk lady in dis chair off mine, sir,” he said. “Heat such -as dis iss killink for dose not accustomed to it. Your business must -be fery pressink, iss it not? But why! it iss my frient Lord Usk and -his most gracious lady! Ah, den I need not ask your reasson for comink -here. What a loss iss dis we hef all sustained!” -</p> - -<p> -“I never thought of finding you here, Chevalier,” said Usk, -administering a few drops of the sherbet at a time to Helene, “and yet -of course it’s the natural thing. Helene, this is the Chevalier -Goldberg, my uncle’s great friend——” -</p> - -<p> -“Alas, no!” cried the Chevalier, raising his hands deprecatingly—“not -his frient, his enemy. It is my embition, my esspirations, det hef led -to all dis! De Queen says it; she will not receife me. I may not help -efen to search for him, but I remain here, in case I may yet be -permitted to do somethink.” -</p> - -<p> -“But you didn’t help to lead him into danger?” asked Helene anxiously. -</p> - -<p> -“I kennot tell. De Queen says it. It seems he hed receifed warninks; I -wass not told. Rader would I hef postponed efen de triumph off my -nation den risk his life, his freedom.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then where is the Queen?” asked Usk. -</p> - -<p> -“She is spendink de day at Klotsch, and your fader also. So it iss -efery day. Dey go dere to exemine all de neighbourhood demselfs, and -come beck at night to receife de reports off deir achents. But her -Machesty will not see me, nor allow me to take any part in de search.” -</p> - -<p> -“We will speak to her, and ask her to let you help,” said Helene. “It -must be so sad for you not to be allowed to do anything.” -</p> - -<p> -The Chevalier pursued her with his fervent thanks as Usk supported her -into the hotel, but the task she had undertaken proved more difficult -than she expected. When Queen Ernestine returned, she refused to have -anything to do with the Chevalier Goldberg. He had sacrificed her -husband to his plots, she declared, with a violence of unreason which -reminded Lord Caerleon of those early days when she had done her best -to make Cyril’s life a burden to him. The stately gentleness which had -characterised her of late years seemed to have disappeared, and she -was simply a woman fighting wildly for her husband’s life. The fearful -anxiety of the last few days had driven her almost mad, as she joined -feverishly in the searches made in the district round Klotsch, or sat -waiting for messages, not knowing whether to look forward to their -arrival with fear or with hope. But so far no news whatever had been -received. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s quite natural she should feel prejudiced against the Chevalier,” -said Lord Caerleon to his son, as they walked up and down the terrace, -while Helene sat with the Queen, and tried in vain to cheer her, “but -it’s very unfortunate. These Jews have a natural instinct for -ferreting out mysteries, and Goldberg can set in motion a whole army -of helpers all over Europe. But I can’t urge her against her will. I -wish your mother was here.” -</p> - -<p> -“What is the mater doing, by the way?” asked Usk. “We quite thought we -should find her here.” -</p> - -<p> -“Pauline Vassilievna is dying. We were just starting for Geneva to be -with her, when your aunt’s telegram came, so your mother went alone to -Switzerland, and I came on here.” -</p> - -<p> -“And King Michael—what about him? What an ungrateful beast he must -be!” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, he is away on his honeymoon, in the Bluebird, and your aunt -wouldn’t allow him to be told. He was only to be troubled with -absolutely necessary State business, and she doesn’t particularly want -him here. He could do no good.” -</p> - -<p> -“Usk,” said Queen Ernestine from the window, and Usk noticed the new -tone of sharpness in her voice, “you and Helene are not to stay here -more than one night. Helene looks ill already, and Mirkovics tells me -she was nearly dead when she arrived. You must take her up into the -hills, to Drinitza, in the morning.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, please not,” Helene’s voice interposed, from the sofa. “Dear Aunt -Ernestine, we have come here to help. You will break our hearts if you -send us away, and won’t let us do anything.” -</p> - -<p> -“Hush, Lenchen!” said the Queen harshly. “I will not have more trouble -brought upon the innocent by their connection with me. How could I -ever forgive myself if you fell ill?” -</p> - -<p> -“Besides,” said Lord Caerleon, in his calm tones, “you can be very -useful at Drinitza. It is not so far off, just above the underground -cavern out of which this river here flows, and you will be able to -explore that part of the country as we have been doing the other side. -It seems quite certain that your uncle has not been taken across the -Dardanian frontier, and therefore he must still be on this side of it. -That will be your work, to search the Drinitza district.” -</p> - -<p> -“But Helene is not to be sacrificed. I will not have her sacrificed,” -repeated the Queen feverishly. “If there is a curse, it shall rest on -me alone.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, no; who is talking of sacrificing Helene?” asked Lord Caerleon. -“She is going to spend these hot weeks at a pleasant little place in -the hills, and take plenty of walks and drives with Usk. That will -suit you, little girl, won’t it?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh yes; if we can really help in that way,” said Helene eagerly. -</p> - -<p> -“I am having the buggy sent out which I had built for you,” Lord -Caerleon went on. “It is intended for rough roads, and I have my eye -on a pair of fair enough horses which one of the officers in the town, -who is ordered back to Vindobona, wants to sell. Usk will give you -driving-lessons, and take you with him on all his expeditions wherever -the buggy can go. When he can’t be with you he’ll leave you in charge -of his man William, who is the nephew of our coachman at Llandiarmid, -and knows all there is to know about horses.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, thank you. You have arranged everything so nicely,” said Helene. -</p> - -<p> -“We will take a carriage and go over to Drinitza in the morning to see -about rooms,” said Usk. “Will that suit you, Aunt Ernestine? You -evidently share Phil’s opinion that I don’t take proper care of my -wife.” -</p> - -<p> -“It is not that. I have brought trouble on so many——” began the -Queen. -</p> - -<p> -“By the way, Ernestine,” said Lord Caerleon, with some impatience, -“are you still thinking of a personal appeal to the Emperor of -Scythia? If so, we shall want to leave some one in charge of things -here. Are Usk and Helene to come back from Drinitza?” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, you are trying to persuade me to accept the help of the Chevalier -Goldberg!” said the Queen. “Well, I cannot say yet. I must wait until -all the detectives have reported to me. Then, if there is still no -news,” she shuddered, “we must think what is to be done.” -</p> - -<p> -Early the next morning, while the air was still comparatively cool, -Usk and Helene hired a carriage and drove out to Drinitza. Their road -zigzagged up and down the hill-sides, and crossed several bridges, all -over the same river. The hamlet for which they were bound stood near -the crest of a hill, looking as if it might at any moment slip from -its little terrace of rock over the stupendous cliff below. Behind the -hotel the wooded summit rose sheer; in front there was the pretence of -a garden, with arbours (a little the worse for dust), and a fountain -or two, and a piazza which commanded a pleasant view. At the foot of -the cliff, in a cool glen cheerful with singing-birds, and bright with -crimson-flowered bushes and masses of white-blossomed creeper, was the -mysterious cavern from which the river burst forth full-grown. The -landlord of the little inn, an old Pannonian soldier, was eloquent in -his description of the wonders of the cavern, the blueness of the -water inside it, and the strange shapes of the rocks, but it seemed -that he had only explored it to a point from which the entrance could -still be seen. He was too wise, however, to dash the hopes of -prospective guests, and promised to provide a boat and plenty of -torches, and do his best to find two boatmen, if the “gracious English -nobilities” wished to make a more thorough search at any time. The -place was beginning to become known, but the old man’s principal -customers were still the officers and townspeople who drove out from -Novigrad on Sundays and holidays, and he was delighted to let his best -rooms to such distinguished persons as Lord and Lady Usk. In his -abounding satisfaction he escorted them up the wood-paths to the top -of the hill, and pointed out in the valley far below on the other side -a white thread, which he told them was the road into Dardania. -</p> - -<p> -“Then where does Prince Pelenko live?” asked Usk, while Helene gave a -gasp. They might even now be looking at the scene of the final act of -the tragedy which was baffling them all. -</p> - -<p> -“Yonder is his Highness’s house,” answered the old man, pointing to a -large white building dimly seen among the trees, “but his property -extends for miles, as far as the Dardanian frontier.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then we shan’t be able to walk through those lovely forests, as he is -away from home, and can’t give us leave,” said Helene. -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, the gracious lady need not grieve herself,” said the old man, -with a knowing look. “The Prince started, certainly, but he is back at -home now, sure enough, though it is not every one that knows it, and -it will be easy to obtain his leave for the noble lady and gentleman -to go where they like on his land.” -</p> - -<p> -“At home? Oh, Usk, we must go and see him, and find out whether he -really——” but Usk pressed her arm. -</p> - -<p> -“Is it true that the river flows underground before it reaches the -cave, and that there is a place where it disappears into the earth?” -he asked the landlord. Volubly the old man assured him that it was -perfectly true,—that close to the Mœsian frontier, on the -north-east, there was a spot called Bagnanera, where the river -disappeared suddenly into a cave of awful blackness, and that objects -thrown into the water there had in due time been found in the river -below the hotel. -</p> - -<p> -“How dreadful!” said Helene, shuddering. “Why,” her tone changed, -“there is a European coming up the hill—not an officer. Have you any -other visitors?” -</p> - -<p> -“It is the great Scythian nobleman who has been visiting the Pelenko -mansion. Will the nobilities excuse me?” asked the old man hurriedly. -“I must see that his horses are ready.” -</p> - -<p> -“How awfully unfortunate!” said Usk quickly, as the landlord hastened -back to his house. “It’s Prince Soudaroff, of all people! and there’s -no hope that he hasn’t seen us. Well, we had better face it out, Nell, -and just admire the view till he gets up here.” -</p> - -<p> -The recognition seemed to be mutual, for the gentleman who was -mounting the steep path stopped and hesitated perceptibly when he saw -the two figures on the hill-top, but coming, apparently, to the same -decision as Usk, he resumed his climb, and advanced towards them with -beaming countenance and uplifted hat. -</p> - -<p> -“I assist at an idyll!” he said in French as he met them. “Youth, -beauty, and nature—I enjoy them all at one glance. Let me -congratulate you, Lord Usk, on the spot you have chosen for your -sojourn. It is evident that you are of the few who have discovered the -charms of this corner of Europe, you and—may I say Madame la -Vicomtesse?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh yes, please,” said Helene, flushing with pleasure. Here at last -was some one who understood her wish without being told. -</p> - -<p> -“It isn’t the scenery that has brought us here,” said Usk bluntly. -</p> - -<p> -“Ah no, I understand. A family bereavement, is it not? and one of a -particularly distressing character. You have no good news yet, I -fear?” -</p> - -<p> -“Fear? you mean hope!” was Usk’s unuttered comment. Aloud he said, -“None.” -</p> - -<p> -“But we hope to learn something soon,” said Helene eagerly. “We were -so glad to hear that Prince Pelenko has returned home, because he -seems to have seen Count Mortimer later than any one else on the -evening that he disappeared, and we want to ask him so many things.” -</p> - -<p> -Again a look of uncertainty flitted across the Scythian statesman’s -face. “Ah, I see!” he exclaimed. “I fear you will be disappointed, -madame. It is not Prince Valerian, the head of the family, who is at -the Pelenko mansion, but his younger brother, Prince Shishman Pelenko, -who holds a commission in my imperial master’s bodyguard, and it is on -his account I am here. Ten days ago this young man was engaged in a -duel, and had the misfortune to kill his opponent. The sad event -preyed so much upon his mind that he wrote a hasty resignation of his -commission, and retired to the family estate, to bury himself among -these hills. My august master received his decision with much regret, -and graciously entrusted me with a mission to the unfortunate young -man, and it is from the discharge of this mission I am -returning—unsuccessful, alas! Ah, madame, how can I hope to explain -to one so youthful and innocent as yourself the depth of grief, of -remorse, in which this unhappy Prince Shishman is plunged? He confines -himself to the enclosed grounds immediately surrounding the paternal -abode, and in these narrow limits he paces up and down like a caged -tiger. Until the unfortunate dispute which separated them, he and his -rival had been the closest of friends, and now no assurances that his -conduct throughout was that of a man of the nicest honour will comfort -him. He cannot forgive himself,” and Prince Soudaroff, deeply affected -either by his own eloquence or by the moving picture he had conjured -up, brushed away a tear. -</p> - -<p> -“I am so glad you have told us this,” said Helene, in -conscience-stricken tones. “We were going to ask leave to walk through -the woods on the estate.” -</p> - -<p> -“But why not, madame? In this I can serve you, I am happy to say. At -the inn I will write a note to Prince Pelenko’s steward, and he will -send you the necessary permission without troubling the unhappy Prince -Shishman. Of course I will assure him that you will confine your walks -to the unenclosed woods, and not threaten the privacy of the mourner.” -</p> - -<p> -“Surely that assurance is scarcely necessary, Prince?” said Usk -haughtily. -</p> - -<p> -“You must pardon me, my dear Lord Usk. I was only considering how, as -a friend of the family, I could best ensure the goodwill of an old -family servant. You intend to spend some time here? I myself am -leaving at once, summoned to the sick-bed of my sister-in-law, Pauline -Vassilievna, or I should have been delighted to do anything in my -power to show you the neighbourhood.” -</p> - -<p> -“We stay here,” returned Usk, with unconscious grimness, “until we -have cleared up the mystery of my uncle’s fate.” -</p> - -<p> -“Indeed?” Prince Soudaroff raised his eyebrows. “It is a delicate -suggestion to make, but are you sure you are quite wise? Is it kind to -condemn madame to a possibly lifelong sojourn among these hills? When -one wishes to disappear, one is generally able to baffle pursuit.” -</p> - -<p> -“Count Mortimer didn’t wish to disappear!” cried Helene indignantly. -“It is his enemies who have got him imprisoned somewhere.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah? ‘The Prince of the Captivity,’ indeed!” said Prince Soudaroff -pleasantly. “I would not for the world destroy your faith, madame. But -I must reluctantly depart. I trust we may often meet again. Farewell, -madame! farewell, Lord Usk—surely all the world must be jealous of -your happiness?” and kissing Helene’s hand gallantly, the diplomatist -departed. -</p> - -<p> -“Usk,” breathed Helene, clutching her husband’s arm, “that man knows!” -</p> - -<p> -“Knows what?” -</p> - -<p> -“Where the dear Count is. I saw it in his eye.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, nonsense, Nell! He’s much too wily for that.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t care. I don’t know how it is, but I know that he knows.” -</p> - -<p> -“If it was certain, it would be maddening,” cried Usk; “for you might -as well tell me that the General of the Jesuits knows. We are just as -likely to get it out of him. But we’ll tell Aunt Ernestine what you -think when we get back to Novigrad. It may help to decide her plans.” -</p> - -<p> -“Prince Pelenko is not at home, after all,” said Helene to the old -landlord when they returned to the hotel. “It is his brother, Prince -Shishman.” -</p> - -<p> -“So the noble Scythian gentleman told me, gracious one. I did not see -the Prince come home; I only saw smoke coming from the chimneys, and -the Dardanian servants hanging about, and I knew that one of the -family must be at the house. I guessed that there were creditors -waiting to make themselves troublesome as soon as his Highness arrived -in Europe, as has happened before, and that he had therefore -returned.” -</p> - -<p> -<br/> -</p> - -<p> -As Usk had anticipated, the chance meeting with Prince Soudaroff -decided Queen Ernestine to make an immediate appeal to the Emperor of -Scythia, who was far more likely to listen to her, now that the -influence of his terrible Chancellor was temporarily removed. At the -moment he was paying his annual visit to his relations at Kaufenhafen, -the capital of Cimbria, and the Queen made up her mind to follow him -thither, trusting to the kind offices of their common cousins to -secure her an interview. It was a relief to Lord Caerleon that his -sister-in-law should be willing to take this long journey, for the -whole of the district round Klotsch had now been scoured, without -revealing the faintest trace of the missing men, or anything that -could throw light upon their fate, and he feared that her brain would -give way under the continued anxiety. In view of this personal appeal -she became almost hopeful, for she and her helpers were now beginning -to feel convinced that Count Mortimer and his secretary had been -kidnapped either by Scythia or by persons in Scythian employ, and -conveyed in some mysterious way into Scythian territory, to be there -imprisoned. -</p> - -<p> -“I will go on my knees to the Emperor to release him!” she said. “I -will promise anything in his name—anything, even that we return at -once to Sitt Zeynab and never leave it again. Cyril will keep the -promises I make for him—he may hate me for making them, but I can -bear that, if only he is restored to me safely.” -</p> - -<p> -The Chevalier Goldberg, whom she had at last consented to receive, and -even, on Lord Caerleon’s advice, to leave in charge of affairs at -Novigrad, was equally ready to make sacrifices on Cyril’s behalf. If -it was the plot to place Cyril on the throne of Palestine that had led -to his disappearance, the plot should come to an end and the plotters -be disbanded the moment he was released, and the heads of the great -Jewish syndicate called the United Nation would pledge themselves that -he should never again be brought forward as a candidate, and would -enforce the same pledge on their poorer brethren the Children of Zion. -Besides these concessions, the importance of which was, to the -initiated, rather apparent than real, the Chevalier was prepared to -give other aid, but the nature of this he did not mention to the -Queen, although Lord Caerleon understood that the journey would be as -easy as the financier’s influence could make it. At every -stopping-place an agent of the Chevalier’s was at hand, to see whether -anything was needed, and at Kaufenhafen his representative had <i>carte -blanche</i> to take any measures advisable for furthering the interview. -These included the discreet distribution of presents among various -high functionaries of the Scythian Court, and the expense was likely -to be considerable. -</p> - -<p> -Usk and Helene drove into Novigrad to see the Queen and Lord Caerleon -start on their journey, and returned rather dolefully to Drinitza. -They had never anticipated anything like this resultless and hopeless -waiting, this wall of silence which seemed to close them round. Even a -rumour, though it might be proved baseless, would have been some -comfort; but no one came forward with false clues, as generally -happens in more thickly populated countries. The disappearance was -complete. -</p> - -<p> -“Look here,” said Usk, rousing himself, as they sat silent on the -terrace over their after-dinner coffee, “we’re getting into the blues, -Nell, and I won’t have it. I shall wake you up jolly early to-morrow -morning, as soon as ever I come back from the river, and you shall -have a good stiff driving-lesson before breakfast. Give you something -else to think about.” -</p> - -<p> -Helene smiled faintly, but she was destined to be waked even earlier -than her husband intended, and the driving-lesson was not to take -place that day. Usk went down to the river for a swim every morning, -and he was still absent when Helene was aroused by hearing a horseman -dash up the steep road, and ride clattering into the stone-paved -courtyard beside the hotel. She heard him inquire eagerly for the -English nobleman, and peeping out of her window, she saw the tokens of -dismay, horror, and astonishment exhibited on the faces of the -audience which gathered round him. She saw him ride down the road -again to find Usk, escorted by several volunteer guides, and she rang -wildly for her maid, and sent her to find out what had happened. To -her dismay, the landlord returned a polite message that the rider had -brought news for the noble Viscount, and for him alone, and that it -was of too horrible and appalling a nature for any one else to take -the responsibility of communicating it to the gracious lady. From this -decision he could not be moved, and Helene, in terrible anxiety, flung -on her clothes in wild haste, regardless of the protests of the -discreet Hannele, who owed her position to her supposed power of -keeping her young mistress within bounds. Dressed at last after a -fashion, Helene rushed out, hatless and in slippers, and ran down the -sunny, rocky road towards the glen. Before she had gone half the -distance, she met Usk hurrying up, some way in advance of the -messenger and his friends, and ran to him. She could not speak, but he -read her question in her eyes. -</p> - -<p> -“No, he’s not dead—at least we don’t know that he is, but they have -found Paschics’s body in the river between here and Novigrad.” -</p> - -<p> -“Dead—murdered?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know. I am going into the town to see. No, you had better not -come. I’ll send out to tell you anything we may discover.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I must—I must come,” cried Helene, clutching feebly at his arm, -and forthwith stultified herself by spinning round and falling in a -dead faint at his feet. To Usk’s intense relief, there appeared at -this point a sufficiently comical procession, consisting of Hannele -with her Highness’s hat, Jakob with her Highness’s shoes, and William, -pressed into the service, with her ladyship’s sunshade. With their -assistance, Helene was carried back to the hotel and up to her room. -When she recovered consciousness, her first thought was to send Usk -off to Novigrad at once, and she went so far as to promise to stay in -bed until he came back, although the scandalised Hannele was not a -very agreeable sick-nurse, even when her company was the only -alternative to Helene’s own anxious forebodings. It was a long, weary -day, but Usk returned at last, though without any comfort to offer -her. -</p> - -<p> -“It is poor Paschics, sure enough,” he said. -</p> - -<p> -“And he has been murdered?” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s what we can’t be sure about. The body is terribly bruised, but -there seems to be no injury sufficient to cause death.” -</p> - -<p> -“But perhaps he was drowned?” -</p> - -<p> -“No; the police-surgeon seemed quite certain it was not that. He -rather thinks that death was due to heart-failure following on a -violent shock of some kind.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Usk, how terrible! If he could only speak! But the bruises?” -</p> - -<p> -“I have a theory which may account for them. Do you remember what the -landlord said about this river flowing underground from Bagnanera, -fifteen or sixteen miles away? Well, suppose the poor fellow was -thrown into the water there, whether dead or alive, in the hope that -he would sink and never be heard of again, but that the river carried -him all the way to this place? The bruises would be easily accounted -for then, you know.” -</p> - -<p> -“Isn’t it horrible? Oh, Nym, do you mean—you can’t mean that they did -that to the dear Count too, and that he has not been found, and we -shall never know? What are you going to do?” -</p> - -<p> -“I think of going over to Bagnanera. We never dreamed of extending the -search in that direction, it seemed so entirely out of the way. I only -wish I could get hold of Hicks to come too.” -</p> - -<p> -“The camera he was to send us came to-day.” -</p> - -<p> -“That won’t tell us where he is, though. We must only hope that the -thought of the underground river will strike him when he hears about -this. There are not many things that don’t occur to him.” -</p> - -<p> -Very shortly it was evident that Mr Hicks had a correspondent in -Novigrad who kept him in touch with the course of affairs, and that -the idea which occurred to Usk had struck him also, for the next day a -telegram was brought out from the town which read— -</p> - -<div class="letter"> - -<p> -“Hope camera arrived safe. Bagnanera good place for views. Am going -there to-morrow; will coach Lady Usk if you come. Bring films.” -</p> - -</div> - -<p> -“We must make a day of it,” said Usk. -</p> - -<p> -“And you’ll have to take me,” said Helene. -</p> - -<p> -“I’ve a good mind to take Hannele too, to look after you,” returned -Usk; but Helene smiled contentedly, in the certainty that Hannele -could not possibly be accommodated in the buggy. In accordance with -the cryptic direction at the end of the telegram, William and Jakob -accompanied the carriage as a mounted escort, and Mr Hicks smiled when -he met the procession, in spite of the seriousness of the occasion. -</p> - -<p> -“Your outfit is real elegant, Lady Usk,” he said, as he helped Helene -out. “Guess the natives will be ’most too frightened to stop and look -at you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do they make any opposition to our exploring the place?” asked Usk. -</p> - -<p> -“Not a cent, sir. I’ve been figuring around as cross-examiner all of -the morning, and I can’t dig anything suspicious out of them. The -whole township isn’t anything but rocks and a few goats, and there’s -not a sign of plunder or bribery in any of the houses. Of course, they -may all be in it together, and have hidden everything dangerous, but I -can’t quite fix it so. And now, if her ladyship will be so good, after -a few hints from me, as to work that camera all it’s worth, and make -love to the women and the population generally, you and I will strike -for the disappearing river.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, mayn’t I come?” asked Helene anxiously. -</p> - -<p> -Mr Hicks appeared to consider deeply. “Well, Lady Usk,” he said, “I’d -as lief have you come as not, but you could assist us far more by -exercising your fascinations upon the villagers. A few nickels laid -out in bribing the children to have their pictures taken might raise -us up friends that would justify their existence.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then of course I will go to the village,” said Helene. -</p> - -<p> -“Between you and me, sir,” said Mr Hicks, when he had explained the -working of the camera, and Helene, attended by Jakob, had begun to -climb the steep street of the hamlet, “I have no use for her ladyship -the next hour or two. It’s a real ugly place, this cave, with a -current that runs like Niagara, and a sweet reputation among the -people. They won’t go near it for their lives, and would consider it -profane to build a boat. I propose that you and I and your groom -should take it in turns to explore, one man swimming, and the other -two holding the rope and lighting him.” -</p> - -<p> -Usk agreed, and the first sight of the cave proved to him that Mr -Hicks’s precautions were not unnecessary. The river, running swift and -dark, lost itself under an overhanging brow of rock, and it required a -good deal of nerve to plunge into the blackness within, even when -secured by a rope. Various ways of obtaining light were tried, such as -burning candles at the entrance, fixing a lantern just inside it, or -fastening a candle in the cap, miner’s fashion, and the cave was -explored for some distance. Usk, indeed, ventured too far, being -caught by the swift current, and only saved by clutching at a rock -past which he was swept, until he had regained sufficient strength to -add his own efforts to those of Mr Hicks and William as they hauled -desperately at the rope. He returned silent and grave, for, as he -confided to Mr Hicks, he felt he had been very near death. In the -narrow passage he had reached, the torrent took a downward course, and -above the rush of the current he believed he could distinguish the -roar of water falling from a great height. What fate could be more -awful than a plunge over a subterranean cataract, to be dashed and -beaten and choked to death in the bowels of the earth? No attempt was -made to penetrate farther, but there were some gruesome experiments to -be conducted with the carcases of goats, in order to ascertain whether -a body thrown into the river here could possibly reappear below -Drinitza. The result, it may be mentioned, was of a negative -character. Two of the carcases were actually found the next day in the -river above Novigrad, but the rest were never seen again, so that the -experiment proved little, either as to the body of the unfortunate -Paschics or the still unknown fate of Count Mortimer. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch19"> -CHAPTER XIX.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">A CHANCE WORD.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">The</span> result of Queen Ernestine’s journey to Kaufenhafen was in one -respect satisfactory, although it threw no light upon the mystery of -her husband’s fate. The Emperor of Scythia received her kindly, and -pledged his imperial word that neither he nor his ministers had had -any hand in Count Mortimer’s disappearance, nor had they the slightest -idea where he was at present. No reference was made to the Zionist -plot, and the Emperor did not express any disapprobation of Cyril’s -late political activity, which, said Prince Soudaroff when he heard of -the interview, was a clear waste of a heaven-sent opportunity. Even if -the Emperor did know nothing about Cyril, he might surely have -dissembled his ignorance, and obtained some useful pledges from the -Queen by means of vague promises and hinted hopes. But the whole -subject of the interview amused Prince Soudaroff extremely, and he -confided his <i>bon mot</i> respecting the “Prince of the Captivity” so -freely to the two or three kindred souls he contrived to gather round -him even at Geneva, that it was repeated all over Europe before the -end of the week. It was generally added, and the addition may also -have been due to the kindred souls, that the Emperor had been wise in -asserting his Chancellor’s non-participation in the <i>affaire Mortimer</i> -before, and not after, questioning the Chancellor himself on the -subject. -</p> - -<p> -Heart-sick from her failure, the Queen was driven almost mad by the -accounts which reached her from Illyria of the discovery of Paschics’s -body and the abortive search at Bagnanera. Fresh confusion had been -imported into the matter by a surgeon of high reputation for whom Usk -had telegraphed to the capital of the province, for he certified that -the bruises on the body had been caused before death, and could not, -therefore, be the result of a buffeting in the subterranean river. -Anxious to examine into the mystery herself, and also pay the last -tribute of gratitude to her husband’s faithful servant by attending -his funeral, Queen Ernestine hurried away from Kaufenhafen, only to -fall ill on her journey to Illyria. A nervous fever, brought on by -grief and overstrain, kept her a prisoner at Vindobona, tended by her -aunt Princess Amalie, who was almost as much at home in the sick-room -as at a wedding, and watched over by Lord Caerleon, who had not the -heart to leave her and go on to Novigrad. -</p> - -<p> -Then, before Prince Soudaroff’s witticism had time to grow stale by -repetition, and when the papers, having made the most of the sensation -afforded by the medical evidence as to the cause of the secretary’s -death, were beginning to hunt for a fresh topic of interest, there -came a rush of events which swept the “Balkan mystery” clean out of -men’s minds. Just at first it was remembered sufficiently for Prince -Soudaroff’s friends to say among themselves, with exquisite glee, that -if he had his secrets from the Emperor, the Emperor clearly kept one -or two things secret from him. But as Prince Soudaroff only looked -wise and said nothing in public, the world in general thought he had -known of the matter all along, little guessing the gnashing of teeth -and tearing of hair which had taken place in certain chancelleries, -that of Scythia not excepted, when the news came. There was a -revolution—the fifth, if minor outbreaks are left out of the -calculation—in Neustria. -</p> - -<p> -This new revolution was the crowning glory of its kind. Other -revolutions had been bungled at their inception, or had dragged on for -several years before they could fairly be considered successful, but -this one seemed to have been born full-grown. One night Prince -Timoleon Malasorte was a casual sojourner in a Lutetian hotel, so -little thought of as a political personage that the police either were -not aware of his arrival in the forbidden capital, or winked at it. -The next night he was master of the army, and by its means of every -fortress in the country, master of the ecclesiastical system, and -through it of the women of Neustria, master also of the national -purse-strings. The whole thing came about with almost the suddenness -of a transformation scene. It was never known publicly when and how -the idea of the revolution had taken shape, or how long the astutest -minds in Europe had toiled by devious and underground paths to prepare -its way; all that was certain was that one morning the city was white -and purple with unauthorised proclamations, posted in all sorts of -forbidden places. The police tore them down, only to find that -whatever way they turned, fresh bills were posted behind their backs, -and while they did their confused best to keep pace with the -bill-stickers, a drastic “Pride’s Purge” was being administered at the -centre of parliamentary life. The Senate and the Chamber of Deputies -were found to be surrounded by troops, and the alarmed legislators saw -their sacred precincts invaded by armed men, headed by—as it seemed -to their startled eyes—the counterfeit presentment of Timoleon I. -Without giving them time to recover from their surprise, the new -Timoleon informed them that he had assumed the office of Dictator in -order to save the country from the evils menacing it, and announced a -dissolution. Before even the most violent deputy could raise his voice -in protest, soldiers were filing down the alleys between the rows of -seats, and arresting one man here and another there. Those arrested -were taken at once into safe keeping, where they met many of their -friends in other walks of life, who had been apprehended at their -homes or places of business. The city Municipality, indeed, found its -numbers almost complete in this new place of meeting. The whole scheme -could not, naturally, be carried out with the same celerity and -certainty as these preliminary steps, and in the streets of Lutetia -there were a number of spasmodic attempts to erect barricades. But -Prince Timoleon and his supporters were not men to be trifled with; -troops had been posted at strategic points throughout the whole city, -and there were cannon ready wherever they were likely to be needed. In -these circumstances the barricade-builders found it well to carry back -into the houses the bedding and furniture they had requisitioned, to -restore the overturned cabs to their normal position, and even to lay -down again the torn-up paving-stones. In the more respectable portions -of the city no opposition was offered to the new rule. The better -class of people were so sick of their late government, so weary of a -long succession of mediocrities diversified by knaves, that they were -ready to welcome any change that promised stability and some measure -of relief from corruption, and above all, they hailed the advent of a -man—a commanding personality who would not only command but be -obeyed. The priests headed processions of their flocks to take the -oath of allegiance to the new government, and—surest sign of the -strength that lay behind the movement—the credit of the country rose -higher than before, and the Dictator had no difficulty in obtaining -money. In all the larger provincial towns a similar change of affairs -had taken place, and each town saw that the district round it followed -its example. The rural inhabitants submitted to the altered conditions -quite philosophically. They had always been of the opinion that they -lived in the worst possible world for honest people, so that it was -clear they could not become worse off. There was some fear lest the -sacred names which had been handed down from the days of the first -revolution should be lost to sight, and an absolutist empire, -supported, as it was now currently believed this new enterprise had -been throughout, on one side by the Jews and on the other by the -Jesuits, be set up. But the Dictator was too wise for this. The -proclamation which he issued on the night of his triumph, dated from -the Presidential palace (which the former occupant had quitted in -haste and without much reluctance), was a model in its way. After a -short sketch of Roman history, appropriate to the occasion, Prince -Timoleon called the nation to witness that he had been welcomed as the -saviour of society by the whole people, and established at the head of -the government with scarcely the shedding of a drop of blood. There -was the inevitable reference to the deeds, sacrifices, and triumphs of -his ancestors; but with touching modesty and fairness Timoleon -Lucanor, Prince-Dictator, concluded by saying that he proposed -immediately to take a <i>plébiscite</i> of the whole nation on the -question of reviving the imperial form of government in Neustria. This -clinched matters. Timoleon Lucanor trusted the people. -</p> - -<p> -When the great news was flashed over the wires from Neustria to -Illyria, and the flock of newspaper correspondents which had settled -upon the country round Novigrad, like rooks upon a ploughed field, -pocketed their notebooks and their fountain-pens, and took the -quickest way back to Europe, they were followed also by all the -detectives who had been engaged in the search for Cyril. Curiously -enough, as it seemed to Usk and Helene, these men all saw in the -Neustrian revolution a chance of exercise for their peculiar talents, -and no bribe would induce them to remain. Consequently, to continue -the investigation of the mystery there were only Mr Hicks, still -pursuing his inquiries in the Bagnanera district, the Chevalier -Goldberg, who was called away every few days to Vindobona on business -of European importance, but returned doggedly to Novigrad when it was -settled, and the two young people at Drinitza, who were now absolutely -at a loss, and could not even think of anything more that might be -done. They made long driving excursions, during which Helene was duly -tutored in the use of the reins, and which were always made the -occasion of questioning any country-people who might be met on the -road, and they wandered through the beech-forests on the Pelenko -estate, and invented wonderful series of events which might happen, to -crown all their work and anxiety with success, if only some clue would -opportunely show itself. But in the minds of both there was surely -growing up the conviction, hateful and long resisted, that the black -pool in the cave at Bagnanera held the clue to the secret. -</p> - -<p> -Riding back to the inn one day from Novigrad, tired and dusty, and -perhaps a little cross, Usk caught sight of Helene talking to a lady -on the terrace. The lady’s face was not familiar to him, and there was -something about her look and dress which made him think she was not -likely to be an acquaintance of the Schwarzwald-Molzau family, but -Helene was so deeply engrossed in listening to her that she had not -even heard him ride up. -</p> - -<p> -“Who is the lady talking to Lady Usk?” he asked of the landlord, who -came out to take his horse. -</p> - -<p> -The old man looked embarrassed. “It is a Scythian lady, honourable -sir, who has driven out to see the glen. Her name is—at least she -calls herself—Mlle. Garanine.” -</p> - -<p> -“Tania Garanine—the actress?” cried Usk. -</p> - -<p> -“I know, honourable sir. She is not suitable company for the gracious -lady, but what could I do? It was not for me to——” -</p> - -<p> -Usk had left him, and was hastening round the corner of the house. As -he reached the terrace, however, he saw the stranger already -descending the steps to her carriage. She glanced over her shoulder at -him—he noticed that her eyelids were artificially darkened—and -laughed gaily when she saw his angry face. In a moment she was driving -away, kissing her finger-tips lightly to Helene. The action raised -Usk’s wrath to white heat. -</p> - -<p> -“How dare you take up that woman?” he demanded fiercely of Helene. -“Surely your own self-respect ought to have kept you from speaking to -her.” -</p> - -<p> -“I thought she wasn’t very nice,” murmured Helene, gazing at him with -dilated eyes. “Her hair was such a strange colour—I think it must be -false—and her skin looked—oh, so <i>dead</i> when she came close. But she -sat down here by me, and talked.” -</p> - -<p> -“She’s one of the most notorious women in Europe,” fumed Usk, “and now -she’ll spread it abroad that you have noticed her and received her, -and what will your people think of me for letting you do it?” -</p> - -<p> -“But you couldn’t help it, nor could I,” pleaded Helene. -</p> - -<p> -“Why didn’t you get rid of her, when you saw the kind of woman she -was? I thought exalted persons like you always knew how to dispose of -people who tried to force themselves upon your notice?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know how to be rude,” said Helene, with heightened colour. -“No one who was unfit to speak to me has ever been allowed to come -near me before.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s a nasty one for me!” said Usk, whose wrath was beginning to -evaporate. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Nym, I am so sorry; I didn’t mean it. And see, I will tell you -how it was that I felt obliged to listen to her. I didn’t dare even to -try to cut her short, lest I should lose something important. She -talked about the dear Count.” -</p> - -<p> -“I might have known it! More lies, I suppose?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know; I suppose so, I hope so. She said, just as Cousin -Ottilie did, that he had gone away of his own accord, but—I couldn’t -quite understand—I think she wanted to make me believe that she was -the lady Prince Pelenko said he saw in the carriage with him. At -least, she talked as if she knew him quite well, and could tell us -where he was now, and she said such horrible things. I don’t know -whether she only suggested them, or really said they had happened, but -I know she hinted that the Count had—had got rid of poor M. Paschics -because he knew too much, and he had no more money with which to keep -his mouth shut. And she talked about a gay life among the islands -somewhere, and then she spoke just as if the dear Count was mad, and -told me a dreadful story about some one she knew once who had spent -all his money, and was found by his relations, quite by chance, in a -refuge for lunatics somewhere near Trieste. She said they had -advertised for him everywhere, but he had forgotten his own name, and -it was only because his nephew happened to catch sight of him that he -was recognised. Do you think—she could mean—that the dear Count is -in one of those terrible places?” -</p> - -<p> -Usk pondered a moment. “No; I don’t!” he cried suddenly. “They want to -get us out of the neighbourhood, Nell, that’s it! Now that Malasorte -has made his <i>coup d’état</i>, they see through the bogus plot, and they -want to undo their work, if they can. I’m certain they have him hidden -somewhere near—in a cave or something of that kind—and find they -can’t get him out of the country without our knowing. We’ll stick on -here and tire them out. To-morrow I’ll go over and bring Hicks back -with me, if I have to drag him by main force. If the whole crew know -he’s on our side I don’t care. He’s the man to smell them out.” -</p> - -<p> -“How clever you are, Nym! I never thought that it might be a trick. I -do wish I was older, and—and——” -</p> - -<p> -“Wiser?” suggested Usk. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, wiser, and able to give you good advice.” -</p> - -<p> -“Thanks; I’d just as soon not. I probably shouldn’t take it, you -know.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Nym, I wish you wouldn’t laugh. I want to be a better wife to -you.” -</p> - -<p> -“You’re tons too good as it is, so don’t get any better. Was I awfully -down on you just now about that Garanine woman, Nell? I didn’t mean -it, but you must learn to protect yourself, you know. Just say, ‘I was -a silly little idiot, and I’ll never do it again.’” -</p> - -<p> -Helene repeated the words with admirable docility. “But I do wish I -could think of clever and useful things like you,” she added with a -sigh. -</p> - -<p> -<br/> -</p> - -<p> -When Usk betook himself to Bagnanera the next day, he left Helene -listless and unhappy. The actress’s words had affected her more than -she knew, and the vision of Cyril, nameless and robbed of everything, -in a pauper lunatic asylum, was constantly before her eyes. The -prospect of spending the whole day alone, since ten hours at least -must elapse before Usk could return, if he was to bring Mr Hicks with -him, was terrible, for she could think of nothing but that vision. At -last she took herself resolutely in hand, determining to set to work -at something that would occupy her thoughts. She would spend the day -in the beech-woods, and make a sketch for her mother, setting herself -the task of finishing it at a sitting. Telling Jakob that she would -need his attendance, she went to her room to get out her colour-box. -Hannele, who was mending a torn gown, was pleased to approve of her -intention. Sketching was a lady-like and elegant accomplishment -(provided the sketcher took care not to sit on the grass), and far -more suited to the daughter of a princely house than tearing about -over the country with a husband as thoughtless as herself. Helene felt -that the rebuke was not undeserved, for she had torn the gown -disgracefully in scrambling through a thicket with Usk, and she did -not venture to suggest that it might be discarded, although Hannele, -in her huge spectacles, had the half-resentful, half-triumphant aspect -of an unwilling martyr. Hannele was grumbling monotonously on, -therefore, when Helene silenced her suddenly by an imperative gesture. -Standing near the window, she had been half-unconsciously aware that -two Englishmen who had spent the night at the inn were discussing the -views as they breakfasted on the terrace, but now her full attention -was aroused by hearing the name of Shishman Pelenko mentioned. -</p> - -<p> -“Queer thing that we should have come straight from Shishman Pelenko -to his ancestral halls,” one man had said. -</p> - -<p> -“Would it be well to call? The place looks inhabited.” -</p> - -<p> -“I think not. We know that Shishman isn’t there, and though he’s a -good sort, his elder brother is a queer lot, I believe.” -</p> - -<p> -Helene dropped her paint-box, and running down the stairs, presented -herself suddenly before the astonished tourists. -</p> - -<p> -“I must ask you to excuse me for disturbing you,” she said, with the -little air of dignity which sat so oddly and yet so well on her, “but -I think I heard you mention the name of Prince Shishman Pelenko? He is -a kind of relation of ours—at least, he is the cousin of a -cousin—and his movements have—have puzzled us a little of late.” Was -this untrue? she wondered uncomfortably. -</p> - -<p> -“He is an erratic fellow,” said the elder of the two Englishmen—they -had both risen politely when she addressed them, “but I am glad to be -able to assure you that he was all right ten days ago, Fräulein. We -have been mountaineering with him in the Caucasus for more than two -months, and though he has had several hairbreadth escapes, he’s as fit -as he can be.” -</p> - -<p> -“We heard a rumour—about a duel,” hazarded Helene. -</p> - -<p> -“He has had no opportunity of fighting a duel for three months at -least, madame”—the speaker had caught sight of the wedding-ring on -Helene’s finger. “Indeed, I know, for he told me himself, that his -last duel happened quite three years ago.” -</p> - -<p> -“Thank you. You have relieved my mind very much,” said Helene simply, -but she returned into the house with slow, dragging steps. Was her -mind relieved, or was it oppressed with a new and vague anxiety? -Prince Shishman Pelenko had never been in the neighbourhood at all; -his duel, his remorse, his flight from society, were all alike -inventions of the Scythian Chancellor’s fertile brain. But if he had -not been occupying the Pelenko mansion, then who was the recluse -there, who never walked beyond the garden, whom no one in Drinitza had -seen? Conviction forced itself upon Helene. The Princess of Dardania’s -apparently purposeless display of Prince Valerian’s letter, the visit -and the glib falsehoods of Prince Soudaroff, the strange hints of -Tania Garanine—all pointed to one fact and one alone. Cyril was -imprisoned down there in the Pelenko mansion, and Helene could take no -steps to rescue him for a whole day. The idea was intolerable. She -must at any rate try to find out whether she was right—and in a -moment she saw how this might be done. Only once had she and Usk -approached the great house closely in their walks, and then they had -noticed a corner of the garden wall where a tree, growing against the -masonry, had forced the lower courses out of position, and dislodged -the upper stones. Usk had remarked that it was a standing invitation -to burglars, and now she would play burglar. -</p> - -<p> -Her face was flushed with excitement when she entered her room again, -and she gathered her paint-brushes together with shaking hands. She -could think of nothing but her scheme, and did not at first perceive -that Hannele was grumbling still. -</p> - -<p> -“Going out alone on the public terrace and speaking to two -strangers—Englishmen, too, who have no reverence or good manners! -That was not the way your august parents taught you to behave, -Highness. And asking after a young rip of a Scythian captain as if -life and death hung upon it! What’s Prince Shishman Pelenko to your -Highness, I should like to know? I wonder what your noble husband will -think when he hears?” -</p> - -<p> -This it was which reached Helene’s ears at last. She turned angrily -upon the woman. “Silence, Hannele!” she said, with a decision Hannele -had never seen in her before. “I justify myself to my husband, not to -you.” -</p> - -<p> -Leaving the maid crushed but indignant, she quitted the room with her -painting materials. Jakob was in waiting, with her camp-stool and -umbrella, and they climbed to the top of the hill, and plunged into -the beech-woods on the other side. When Helene was as near the Pelenko -mansion as seemed prudent, she chose a spot in a long grassy glade, -bordered on either side by huge trees which were beginning to show the -first touch of autumn, and set to work with uncertain fingers, -wondering how long it would be before Jakob went to sleep. She had -decided not to make him a partner in her enterprise. For one thing, -there might be danger for him where a girl would pass unscathed; and -again, he would be very likely to presume upon his long service with -her family to prevent her doing anything. It seemed to her that her -henchman was provokingly wakeful to-day. Generally it needed but a few -minutes to set him propped against the trunk of a tree, slumbering -peacefully, with his mouth as wide open as if he wished the squirrels -to drop beech-nuts into it. But on this occasion it almost seemed that -he must have been making resolutions against his drowsiness, so -unwinkingly watchful did he remain. Helene thought hours must be -passing before his rigid frame relaxed, and his grey head dropped -gently back against the tree. When at last he was undoubtedly asleep, -she tore out a leaf of her sketch-book, wrote on it in pencil, “I am -going to seek another view. I will return here,” and laid it near him -with a stone upon it to keep it from blowing away. Then she stole -noiselessly past him, and made sure that the tree was between him and -herself before she ventured to turn in the direction of the house. She -was not long in reaching the corner of the wall, and although it was -harder to climb than she had expected, she succeeded in getting over. -Inside the wall was a thick belt of shrubbery, so wild and unkempt -that it might almost be called a wood, and with beating heart she -forced her way through this. There was a clear space in front, she -saw, and presently she reached its edge. Crouching down and peering -through the bushes, she found that she was close to the house, which -looked much less imposing near at hand than from a distance. -Originally a pretentious building of the sham classical style dear to -the heart of the Europeanised Illyrian, with a good deal of ornamental -work in plaster about it, it was now little better than a ruin. Great -masses of the balustrading had fallen from the edge of the roof, the -walls were cracked in many places, and there were only a few remnants -of glass left in the windows. The garden was utterly neglected. Grass -was springing up between the stones of the paved pathways, and the -water in the large square tank was foul and choked with weed, above -which the melancholy fragments of a broken fountain reared themselves. -It was evident that whatever debts Prince Valerian Pelenko had -contracted in Europe, he had not spent the money on his family seat. -</p> - -<p> -As Helene peeped through the bushes, a slight movement attracted her -attention to two persons whom she had not at first noticed—an old -man, sitting on a stone seat beside the tank, in the shade of a clump -of overgrown myrtles, and a servant, like his master in European -dress, lounging against the wall of the house a little behind him. The -picture was so pathetic that Helene felt the tears rise to her -eyes—the old man sitting there among the ruined glories of his house, -his gaze fixed on the dull stagnant waters of the tank. But there was -a rustling in the bushes behind her; and turning her head, she saw -that a huge fellow in the gorgeous Dardanian dress, his sash bristling -with knives and pistols, had tracked her through the wood, and was now -within a few feet of her, his cruel eyes gleaming in his fierce face. -With a shrill scream she threw herself wildly forward, hoping to find -safety in the company of the musing old man, but her foot caught in a -briar, and she felt her pursuer’s great hand upon her throat. Her -scream had aroused the two occupants of the garden, however, and she -saw the old man look round. -</p> - -<p> -“What is it that Danilo has found in the shrubbery—a child?” he asked -the servant in French, and bewildered and shaken as Helene was, it -seemed to her that the voice was familiar. The servant’s reply was -inaudible, but she heard the old man say sharply, “Bring her to me, -and I will reprove her. I will not have children mauled by these rough -fellows.” -</p> - -<p> -Helene’s captor released her reluctantly as the servant approached, -but it appeared to her that the new-comer helped her up with equal -reluctance, and cursed her under his breath. He gave the Dardanian -some direction in his own language as he led Helene to his master, but -she had no time to think what the words might mean, for it was Cyril -who sat on the stone bench—Cyril whose clear blue eyes met hers -without a trace of recognition. For a moment she was staggered—it -could not be Cyril—but even before he spoke again she had no doubt. -Old and white-haired and broken, this was the man to whom her childish -devotion had been given. -</p> - -<p> -“Do you know, young lady, that you are a trespasser?” he asked her in -French. “Doubtless you found your way in by the little door in the -wall?” Helene opened her lips to deny this, but he went on without -giving her time to speak. “I know one of the servants was going into -the town, and they are careless about the door. But you would hardly -have gratified your curiosity by entering if you had known that my -seclusion here is a matter of life and death.” -</p> - -<p> -Helene gazed at him, unable to speak, and he went on. -</p> - -<p> -“Probably you are unaware that my life is perpetually in danger? You -know my name—Shishman Pelenko? But you will not have heard that my -steps are continually dogged by hired ruffians. I can’t quite remember -why it is—it happened a long time ago—but I am not safe except -within these walls and under the protection of my faithful servants. -This is Dr Gregorescu, my medical attendant”—he indicated a lithe -dark-bearded man who had come up with a cat-like swiftness and -softness of tread—“who is good enough to live here with me and watch -over my health. My life may not be of much value to the world, but it -has still some little charm for myself, and some value for my few -friends, I think?” He looked round waggishly at Dr Gregorescu, and -laughed—a foolish crackling laugh. -</p> - -<p> -“Your life is most valuable to your friends, Highness,” replied the -doctor, not smiling in return, but piercing Helene with his black -eyes, “and I fear this young lady’s entrance here may endanger it.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, nonsense! she is only a child, and what can she tell the ruffians -outside but that I am well guarded? Desire the ruffians on our side to -show themselves, if you please.” -</p> - -<p> -“The young lady will be frightened,” objected the doctor. -</p> - -<p> -“All the better for her—teach her a lesson,” was the testy answer. -“What, am I to command twice?” he rattled his stick on the stones. “I -wish my guard to be visible for an instant.” -</p> - -<p> -For the moment Helene felt like Fitz-James at the instant of his -introduction to Roderick Dhu, for at the word of command, reluctantly -uttered by Dr Gregorescu, the belt of shrubbery seemed to be suddenly -alive with stalwart Dardanians. They sprang up from their lairs in the -underwood or started out from behind trees, and stood in full view for -a moment, then, at a wave of the doctor’s hand, disappeared again, -while the self-styled Prince Shishman improved the occasion. -</p> - -<p> -“You have seen how thoroughly I am protected, young lady,” he said -impressively. “Now I do not think, from your face, that you are in the -pay of my cruel enemies outside, but if you should be questioned, you -may say that these faithful fellows, all trained fighters from their -cradles, keep guard over me day and night, and would rejoice at the -chance of a fight. You may say also that Dr Gregorescu and the indoor -servants are well armed, and that there are underground——” -</p> - -<p> -“Is not your Highness afraid of giving publicity to the exact details -of our defences?” asked the doctor smoothly, and Cyril nodded. -</p> - -<p> -“You do well to remind me of prudence, Gregorescu. But I think the -young lady, at any rate, will not penetrate within our walls again, -for she will remember that to do so would cause great anxiety and pain -of mind to a cruelly persecuted man. If you will be good enough to -send for the key of the small gate, we will let her out, and see that -the door is properly fastened.” -</p> - -<p> -“Pray don’t trouble yourself, Highness,” said Dr Gregorescu hastily. -“I will conduct the young lady to the gate.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, Gregorescu. It is not that I distrust your vigilance, but I must -satisfy myself that the gate is properly locked. It is a perfect -nightmare to me. I am thinking of having it bricked up.” -</p> - -<p> -The doctor offered no further objection, and Helene was conducted to -the gate in solemn procession. Cyril bade her a lofty farewell, the -bolts grated home, and, dazed and bewildered, she found herself -outside. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch20"> -CHAPTER XX.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">FOILED.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">For</span> a moment Helene stood irresolute, unable to realise her -position. Then the nearness of the fierce Dardanians and the still -more terrible doctor occurred to her, and she walked away with -tottering steps. Fear drove her on, for even when she had plunged into -the wood, she thought she heard the bushes crackling behind her, and -she could not feel safe until she came upon Jakob once more. The quiet -glade, with the old man still snoring peacefully under his tree, -seemed a haven of refuge, and she staggered towards him, her knees -knocking together, and collapsed helplessly on the ground. The gasping -sobs which she could not repress awoke Jakob, who was much concerned -to find her in such a state. She would not tell him what had alarmed -her, and as Jakob was firmly under the impression that he had only -dozed off for a second or two, he attributed her fright to a snake, -and expended much energy in beating about among the tree-roots and -last year’s dead leaves with a stick. He found nothing, naturally, and -seeing that Helene was quite incapable of going on with her sketch, -suggested that they should return to the inn, lest Hannele should -scold him for allowing her Highness to sit on the ground. There were -unmistakable marks of mould on Helene’s linen skirt, which meant a -cross-examination from Hannele, and in desperation she stood up, -supporting herself against a tree, while Jakob removed the stains as -well as he could with his handkerchief and the water he had carried -for her painting. -</p> - -<p> -“There, Highness!” he said at last, looking up with honest pride. “It -will dry before we reach home, and Hannele will be none the wiser.” -</p> - -<p> -“Thanks, Jakob,” his mistress answered absently. “Do you know whether -the two English gentlemen who were on the terrace this morning are -staying another night?” -</p> - -<p> -“Their horses were being saddled when we started, Highness,” replied -Jakob, with placid indifference. “There is nothing to see at Drinitza -except the river-cave, so why should they stay?” -</p> - -<p> -Helene’s heart sank. For a moment the wild idea of rescuing Cyril -immediately had occurred to her. Usk was away, and William with him, -but surely those two Englishmen might be depended upon to help another -Englishman? Now that hope was gone; and with deeper sinking of heart -she remembered that the Chevalier had started on one of his periodical -journeys to Vindobona, so that it would be no use to send in to -Novigrad. There was the landlord, at any rate, an old soldier, and -there were two or three men employed about the inn, and several strong -fellows in the village, and there was Jakob, who might be trusted to -follow her leading—but was it right, was it even prudent, to oppose -these men, practically unarmed, to the Dardanians, each of whom was a -kind of walking arsenal? She turned the matter over in her mind as -they walked back to the inn, and at last decided to lay it before the -landlord, and see what he thought. But disappointment was awaiting her -when she arrived, for the landlord had gone into Novigrad for the day. -</p> - -<p> -This last blow was too much for Helene, and she resigned herself -meekly into the hands of Hannele, who had brooded over her mistress’s -sharp words all the time of her absence, and now had the additional -grievance of her evident exhaustion to gratify her. She took -peremptory possession of Helene, removed her gown and shoes, fed her -with soup, and made her lie down, scolding all the time, and having -adjured her to go to sleep, went away to scold Jakob. -</p> - -<p> -Helene had yielded to her ministrations and reproaches because she had -no spirit to resist; but the moment the door had closed behind the -maid her head started up from the pillow. She could not think properly -lying down, and that great guarded house in the forest seemed to be -crying out to her to do something. What should she do? what could she -do? The memory of that helpless prisoner, who did not even realise -that he was in prison, drew her back to the Pelenko mansion as though -with cords. If only she had made herself known to him, spoken to him -in English, addressed him by his own name, surely recollection would -have returned to the dulled brain? And she had remained speechless, -not uttering a word, terror and astonishment holding her so fast in -their grip that she had made no use whatever of this tremendous -opportunity! How could she meet Usk and Mr Hicks, who had dared so -much for Cyril’s rescue without result, if she had to confess to them -that she had been face to face with him and had not even spoken? -</p> - -<p> -The thought was intolerable, and in a moment she was out of bed and -throwing on the pink cotton gown which Hannele had finished mending, -and had left prominently on the back of a chair as if to reproach her. -Too much engrossed in her quest to think of her own dignity, she crept -down the stairs with her shoes in her hand, and once safely past the -room in which she could hear Hannele’s voice rating Jakob, put them -on, and turned into the path which led up the hill. At the summit she -paused, breathless, and put on her gloves. There was absolutely no -reason why she should feel so frightened, as if she were doing -something dreadful. Why should she not go out for a walk alone if she -chose? She was an Englishwoman now, and Usk had often laughed at her -because she disliked to go down the street without Hannele or Jakob in -attendance. She was simply taking an afternoon walk, and what possible -objection could there be to her going round by the Pelenko mansion? -She did not even know that she should try to obtain entrance to the -grounds—certainly not by that dreadful corner, which the Dardanian -who had watched her must know well, if Cyril did not—but it might -save time later if she walked round the place and looked carefully to -see if there was any other way of getting in. As if to emphasise to -herself the perfect propriety and openness of her intentions, she did -not take the usual way through the forest, but went straight down to -the high road, and walked along it in a westerly direction until she -could see the battered chimneys of the house rising above the -encircling trees. She shivered as she turned into the rugged lane, -miscalled a road, which led up to the gates, and her eyes sought -narrowly among the undergrowth on either hand for the brightness and -glitter of the Dardanian dress. There seemed to be no one lying in -wait just here, however, and she went on to the gates, which had -always been fast shut when Usk and she had caught a glimpse of them -hitherto. A gasp of astonishment broke from her when she reached them. -On this day, of all days, they were open, as if to invite her to -enter. -</p> - -<p> -“It is a miracle!” thought Helene reverently; “a sign, perhaps, that -the good God will allow me to do something to help the dear Count,” -and with a prayer on her lips she passed fearlessly in. The drive -which led through the thick shrubbery was as rough and full of ruts as -the lane outside—nay, the shrubbery was encroaching upon it, for -bushes were springing up among the weeds which concealed the gravel. -As she neared the house, however, she heard the pawing of impatient -horses, and thought it prudent to creep into the wood. Reaching the -end of the drive, and peeping through the branches, she saw to her -amazement a carriage, laden with luggage, standing before the door. -Several of the Dardanians were at work adjusting the various packages, -and others were lounging about in front of the house. Presently Cyril -appeared on the steps, and for one moment she thought he had seen her, -for his eyes seemed to meet hers, but he turned to send his servant -back for something, and, without looking at her, began to wave and -twist his hands about in a way that appeared to her woefully aimless -and imbecile. Apparently impatient of the delay, he entered the -carriage after a moment or two, and drawing up the window nearest her, -proceeded to trace figures of some sort listlessly upon the glass with -his finger. To Helene, as she watched, it looked as if he had written -the word “Not,” but she could not be sure, since she naturally saw it -backwards, as if reflected in a mirror. Before he could get any -further, Dr Gregorescu came quickly down the steps, and apologising -for being late, stepped into the carriage. Helene watched breathlessly -to see what would happen next; but just as one of the Dardanians -mounted the box, something was flung over her from behind, and she -felt herself pulled down among the bushes. -</p> - -<p> -It was no use to struggle, and she could not cry out. She was held -down firmly, and the cloak, or whatever the covering might be, was -pressed tightly over her face. She had almost lost consciousness when -the pressure was relaxed, and she lay helpless and motionless until -she felt some one shaking her by the shoulder, and heard a voice -speaking in an unknown tongue. She looked up into the sunken eyes of -an old woman, who was holding in one hand the rough woollen cloak -which had served as a gag. The stranger was blaming her for venturing -into such a place, Helene gathered, and warning her that if she had -been discovered, her life would have been the forfeit. Realising the -old woman’s meaning, she remembered suddenly all that had passed, and -springing up, she peered through the bushes again. The carriage and -its attendants were gone, and the crushed weeds in the drive showed -where it had passed. She turned to run after it, but the old woman -caught her by the arm, and intimated by signs that it was travelling -so fast she would never catch it. Resorting to signs in her turn, -Helene did her best to inquire whether the old woman could take her by -a short cut through the forest to the road, that she might see what -direction the carriage was taking, but the old woman expressed the -most lively fear at the prospect, moderating her gestures, however, -when she saw Helene put her hand into her pocket. It was not often -that the girl carried a purse, for there was nothing to buy at -Drinitza, and she rather liked making Usk pay everything for her when -they went into Novigrad, but it was well to have a little loose change -at hand ready for going into the village, on account of the beggars. -If the beggars were not duly noticed and relieved, they were apt to -curse the passer-by, and Helene had a nervous dislike of being cursed. -Her purse happened fortunately to be in the pocket of the pink gown, -and she emptied the store of small coins it contained into the old -woman’s hand, with the result that the owner grinned widely, and made -signs indicative of her willingness to start at once. -</p> - -<p> -They crept down the drive again, and once outside the gate, plunged -into the forest to the right, avoiding the lane, and very soon found -themselves mounting a steep slope. This part of the woods Helene had -not explored with Usk, and she was therefore obliged to rely entirely -on the old woman, who hobbled along, helping herself up the steepest -places by clutching at the bushes, with wonderful agility. On they -went, now up and now down, through such mazes of forest that Helene -decided she must come back by the road, or she would never be able to -find her way home by herself. Moreover, as the first excitement of the -chase died down, she became conscious that she had gone through a good -deal since first starting out that morning, and that her limbs, -shaking with fatigue and agitation, would scarcely carry her. But she -struggled on bravely, and at last the old woman stopped on the very -brink of what seemed to be a wooded cliff, and pointing straight -downwards, said something which Helene took to mean that the road was -there. -</p> - -<p> -The declivity was not quite so steep as it looked, but Helene soon -found that it was impossible to walk down it. The only plan was to run -whenever a clear space appeared, bringing up against a friendly tree -when she was out of breath, and then picking her way slowly from one -trunk to another. It was natural that she should run faster than the -old woman, and therefore it did not surprise her to find herself in -front; but when she reached the foot of the cliff, and discovered that -her companion had not followed her, and she was all alone, it struck -her that she had been rather shabbily treated. She sat down, -thankfully enough, upon a fallen tree, keeping in the shade so that -her light dress might not attract attention, and with her eyes fixed -upon the stretch of road to the left, waited patiently. This was a -part of the road that she and Usk had never reached, even in their -drives, and she felt sure that she must be a good deal in advance of -the carriage, which had to follow the many windings necessary for the -maintenance of a comparatively slight gradient. For a time she was so -glad to rest that she thought of nothing but the relief to her tired -feet, but after a while it occurred to her that the afternoon was -wearing away, and that she had a very long distance to walk home. -Moreover, the road was lonely. Not a creature had passed while she sat -on the log, and there was no sign of a human habitation anywhere. The -best plan would certainly be to walk back towards Drinitza, and so -meet the mysterious carriage. On that quiet road she would hear it -coming a long way off, and be able to hide in the wood until it had -passed. Or perhaps it might not pass at all—which was a contingency -that had not occurred to her before—but in that case she would know -that it had taken the only other direction possible, the road leading -to Klotsch, so that her walk would not have been in vain. -</p> - -<p> -Rising from the log, she turned to the left, in the direction, as she -had never doubted, of Drinitza, and set out boldly along the road. -Before she had gone far, however, it struck her that the sun, now -approaching its setting, should have been behind her, instead of which -it was in front. -</p> - -<p> -“How stupid I am!” she said wearily, beginning to retrace her steps. -“My head is so confused that I was actually going the wrong way. And -yet I don’t see how—but it’s no good trying to work it out now. I -must simply go on.” -</p> - -<p> -On and on she went, still without recognising any familiar landmark, -until she was too tired to look at anything but the long white ribbon -of road which seemed to unfold itself endlessly before her. At last -the growing dusk made her lift her eyes to the sky again, and there -was the sun, now sinking behind the hills, in front of her once more! -The truth flashed upon her. The unfamiliar scenery was accounted for. -She had been right at first, but at that point the road doubled back -upon itself, in order to skirt the base of the cliff she had -descended, so that for a little while its direction was actually west -instead of east. But at the end of the turn she would have found -herself looking eastwards again, whereas now she had been walking away -from home with every step she took. -</p> - -<p> -For the moment Helene was overwhelmed. She could never walk back to -Drinitza now, she knew, and she was utterly alone, in a district which -did not seem to possess a single inhabitant. Tired and cold, and faint -with hunger, she sat down by the roadside and cried weakly. Unless -another miracle occurred to help her, she must spend the night where -she was, and even in the morning Usk would have no means of knowing -where to look for her. But again she saw a miracle in what followed -close upon the despairing little prayer she sent up. From the forest -behind her came the lively sound of ungreased waggon-wheels, faint at -first in the distance, but gradually increasing in nearness and -excruciating distinctness. A vehicle of some kind was jolting over a -rough forest-track, and presently she could hear the ejaculations -addressed by the driver to his oxen. So comforting was the knowledge -that a fellow-creature was at hand, that she ran forward impulsively -as the heads of the oxen appeared, but the driver was far too busy to -notice her until he had safely manœuvred his team and the long rough -waggon, laden with wood, from the side-track into the main road. Then -he seemed suddenly to become aware that he had heard a human voice, -and he looked down from his stately height—he was a huge -Dardanian—to see a little pale girl, in dusty and draggled European -dress, weeping bitterly, and sobbing forth entreaties in two or three -languages. It was well for Helene that her giant was better-tempered -than giants are generally supposed to be, and kind-hearted as well, -for although he could not understand either French, German, or -English, and shook his head vigorously when she tried to explain that -she wanted to get back to Drinitza, he offered her a seat on the wood -in his waggon, and actually lifted her up there when she hesitated. -She made no further opposition after that. Where he might be taking -her, she had no idea, but presumably it was to his home, and possibly -to some place where she might find the means of communicating with -Usk. -</p> - -<p> -The oxen tramped on patiently, and the waggon began to jolt again as -the road became worse, but Helene dozed spasmodically on her rough -couch. It was not until the waggon came to a standstill that she -really awoke, to find herself in the one street of a little Dardanian -frontier village, the white walls and dark roofs of which were -glorious in the after-glow of sunset, and made a kind of theatrical -background for the gigantic men and strapping women in red and blue -and gold-embroidered white garments who were crowding round to hear of -the strange adventure which had happened to Petros. Before Helene was -fairly awake, the smallest man in the crowd asked her in broken German -for her papers, and it was evident that a bad impression was produced -by her confession that she had none. The small man had something to do -with the customs, apparently, for she gathered from the -cross-examination which followed that he suspected her of smuggling, -though it was not clear what she had to smuggle, with the exception of -her worn and weary self. Moreover, he fastened upon her statement that -her husband was English as his own excuse for not understanding her -German, and they argued at cross-purposes for some time, while the -listening villagers made remarks that were evidently uncomplimentary -in their nature. To Helene’s horror, he succeeded at last in making it -plain that she would be detained for the night as a suspicious -character in the hut in which the customs business was carried on; and -already she saw herself led to prison before the eyes of the crowd of -curious villagers, and locked up hungry and tired, and, above all, -alone. In despair, she turned to the tallest man in the crowd, who -also seemed to hold some position of authority, and fortunately -remembering the word used by the Dardanians to designate their ruler, -did her best to explain that the Prince was her cousin, and would hold -the villagers responsible for their treatment of her. She could not be -sure that she was really understood, but the people seemed to be -impressed, and the tall man and the small man consulted together. -Presently she distinguished a sound sufficiently like the Illyrian -word for “telegraph” to assure her that they were talking of -telegraphing somewhere for directions, and she seized upon the -proposal with almost hysterical joy. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, let me telegraph to my husband!” she cried to the little man, -“and just let me rest somewhere till he comes, and he will pay -anything you like.” -</p> - -<p> -Whether the mention of payment stimulated the official wits, or -whether the man was afraid of getting into trouble through over-zeal, -he appeared to understand and approve of the suggestion. The big man -lifted Helene down from the waggon as if she had been a baby, and -after she had thanked the driver for his kindness, the scene changed -to the post-office, of which the big man was in charge. Here a fresh -difficulty occurred, for Helene had no money, and the simplicity of -modern dress precluded her from resorting to the time-honoured -expedient of offering jewellery in pledge. She had not even a watch -with her, and the postmaster became stern and implacable once more. -The little man came to the rescue by pointing out that she had a gold -ring on her finger, but she pleaded so piteously that she could not -give up her wedding-ring, that matters were at a deadlock again. Then -the postmaster, apparently prompted by his handsome, slipshod wife, -proposed a compromise. He would send the telegram, and wait for the -payment until the morning; but Helene and the ring must remain in -pawn, so to speak, since she would not be separated from it. She -should spend the night in the post-office, which was a lean-to -attached to his own house, and could only be entered through the room -in which he and his family slept; and if there was no answer to the -telegram in the morning, the ring must be given up. There were few -things to which Helene would not have agreed at that moment, and she -wrote out the telegram, surrounded by the eager and curious circle of -villagers, all bristling with weapons. She wrote it in German, as the -customs-officer’s help would enable the postmaster to make it less -unintelligible in that language than in French or English; and when -the whole assembly had looked at it wisely, heard it translated and -explained, and discussed the meaning, it was allowed to be sent. When, -after a good deal of squabbling between the postmaster and the -customs-officer over the spelling of the words, the message had at -last been despatched, Helene, who had been upheld by her anxiety so -far, staggered forward, and clutching feebly at the office-desk, -slipped to the floor. Instantly the postmaster’s wife, who seemed to -have been severely repressed hitherto by her husband, took possession -of her, and ordered the other villagers out of the room. It was clear -she was saying that whoever the girl might be, she was faint and -exhausted, and should not be tormented any more by stupid -unsympathetic men. Even this good Samaritan could not provide a softer -couch than the bench which ran along one end of the room, but she -brought a sheepskin as a coverlid and a rolled-up apron for a pillow, -and a frugal meal of black bread and milkless tea. She was so -obviously sympathetic and compassionate that Helene kissed her -impulsively as she covered her up, and the Dardanian woman smiled -broadly as she kissed her in return, and patted her shoulder with a -friendly hand as she bade her sleep well and not be frightened. -</p> - -<p> -The inhabitants of this primitive village appeared all to retire to -rest as soon as darkness came on, so that Helene had enjoyed a long, -dreamless sleep when a furious knocking at the outer door aroused the -household, although dawn was only just breaking. The postmaster was -disinclined to rise, thinking that some impatient neighbour had come -early to inquire for a letter, and that the labours of the department -would be appreciably increased if such proceedings were to be allowed. -But the knocking continued, and a voice shouted something threatening -in an unknown tongue, which was emphasised by vigorous kicks at the -door, and the postmaster’s wife suddenly shrieked a malediction at -him. -</p> - -<p> -“Fool! pig!” she screamed. “Can’t you hear? It is the little white -lady’s husband. Let him in this minute.” -</p> - -<p> -The postmaster obeyed, not forgetting to don his beltful of weapons -before he opened the door; and it was with a huge revolver in his hand -that he confronted the young man who entered with a hasty step, but -recoiled abruptly when he met the intent gaze of the rest of the -family, peering at him over their sheepskin coverlids. -</p> - -<p> -“Where is my wife?” he demanded, holding out a telegram to the -postmaster, then began a hasty apology; but the postmaster saw no need -for shyness. Striding to the door of the office, he threw it open, and -bowing to Usk, invited him to enter, while the wife and children sat -up in bed, their eyes bright with interest. A moment later, when Usk -was sitting on the bench beside Helene, holding her in his arms, and -alternately kissing and scolding her, while she laughed and cried at -once, a murmur of excited admiration drew their attention to the door, -where they beheld the whole family gazing at them open-mouthed. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, shut the door!” cried Helene hysterically. “The whole village -will be here in a moment, as they were last night. Oh, Nym, how white -you look!” -</p> - -<p> -“Considering that we have been riding all night, you can scarcely -expect us to look very blooming. I think you’ve hurried us here on -false pretences, Nell. We couldn’t make head or tail of your telegram, -but we gathered that you were in dire distress, so Hicks and I, with -the landlord and Jakob, mounted and rode to your rescue at once, with -William driving the buggy. We had an awful time of it in the dark, but -we kept on; and now I find you comfortably asleep, and able to -criticise our looks. Do you think that shows proper gratitude, Lady -Usk?” -</p> - -<p> -“You mustn’t criticise mine,” laughed Helene unsteadily, as she stood -up with difficulty, a forlorn little figure with tumbled hair and -dark-ringed eyes. “Oh, it was so dreadful, Nym! They nearly made me -give them my wedding-ring to pay for the telegram. But they were very -kind afterwards, and it’s all right now.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, suppose you put yourself to rights a bit. Hicks is seeing after -breakfast. Will a pocket-comb be of any service to you? And when you -feel quite equal to it—not before, mind, by any means—I should be -interested to know what got you into this fix.” -</p> - -<p> -Helene, tugging at her hair with the comb, stopped suddenly, and -turned upon him a face full of horror. “Nym, I had forgotten it for -the moment, but it is almost as bad as the worst we have imagined. I -have seen the dear Count twice, and he didn’t know me. He is—mad.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do you mean that he’s anywhere here?” cried Usk, springing up. -</p> - -<p> -“No; I lost him again. It was in trying to trace him that I came to -this place. He is under the care of a dreadful doctor, who has a -number of Dardanians to keep guard over him, and he thinks he is -Prince Shishman Pelenko, and that people are plotting against his -life.” -</p> - -<p> -“Be quick with your hair,” said Usk, “and you can tell Hicks -everything at the same time as me. He may think of something that -ought to be done at once.” -</p> - -<p> -But when Helene told the story of her doings the day before at the -open-air breakfast table, Mr Hicks was as much at a loss as Usk to -know what to do next, and sat silent and meditative, even while -devouring his food at his usual speed. His experience as a -war-correspondent had taught him never to neglect the chance of a good -meal, and his skill in foraging had succeeded in providing one even in -this unpromising spot. The table, which he had requisitioned from the -custom-house, was placed in the open space in front of the -post-office, the only flat piece of ground in the whole village, -apparently, and the villagers stood round and watched the meal with -much interest. When it was over, Usk held an open-air court of -justice, and prompted by Helene, paid the postmaster for the telegram, -and his wife for the night’s lodging—much to her distress, for she -would only accept the money to buy something for her children. Petros -the waggoner was less diffident, and received his silver with pride, -saying he would give it to his sweetheart to sew on her cap; and the -customs-officer was so anxious to press his own claims to a reward -that Usk at last yielded, advising him to buy a German dictionary. -When this was settled, the horses were brought out again, and the -visitors departed, their hosts speeding them on their way with a -<i>feu-de-joie</i> of revolver-shots, which was gratifying, if a little -alarming. Usk was driving Helene in the buggy, and presently Mr Hicks -rode up close beside them. -</p> - -<p> -“Lady Usk,” he said, “there’s a question or two I’d like to have you -answer if you don’t mind. You said Count Mortimer was moving his hands -in a queer sort of a way when he stood on the doorstep. Can you show -me just how he did it?” -</p> - -<p> -“Something like this,” said Helene, imitating the movements as well as -she could remember them. -</p> - -<p> -“Is that so?” asked Mr Hicks, and nodded gravely. -</p> - -<p> -“What is it?” asked Helene, alarmed by his tone. -</p> - -<p> -“The deaf-and-dumb alphabet, I guess, and he’s no more lost his mind -than you and I have.” -</p> - -<p> -“But he didn’t know me in the least. He could not be in his right -mind.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s just his smartness, you bet. He made out to disarm the -suspicions of the folks that have him in charge by pretending not to -recognise you.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, and I didn’t know the alphabet, and now we have lost him again!” -cried Helene. “It’s all my fault. He was trying to tell me something. -Oh, if I had only known!” and she burst into tears. “Perhaps we shall -never see him again.” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Hicks was thinking deeply. “I guess I’ll ride on ahead,” he said to -Usk. “I don’t see but the notion that’s just come to me may be right. -We know the carriage didn’t pass along this road, and I’ll go on to -Klotsch, and see if it passed there. If not, I’ll get another horse -and ride to Novigrad all I’m worth, and have them give me a warrant, -or police permit, or whatever they call it, to search the Pelenko -house. For if the carriage has not been seen on the road, it seems -clear to me that it just waited around in the woods somewhere while -Lady Usk was got out of the way, and then went right back to the -house. And if the Count is there yet, why——” -</p> - -<p> -“Underground!” cried Helene. “He began to speak of passages, or -something of that kind.” -</p> - -<p> -“We’ll see. I’ll ride on, anyway.” -</p> - -<p> -But Mr Hicks’s haste was in vain. Police assistance was obtained, and -the Pelenko mansion duly searched, the old servants left in charge -showing even the subterranean rooms, which had been constructed in -Roumi days as a refuge in case of need. They knew that the foreign -doctor, and the mad gentleman who imagined himself to be Prince -Shishman, and the Dardanian servants, had all left the day before, but -they could not say where they had gone. They had travelled in their -own carriage, but no one had seen it on the road. The mystery was as -deep as ever. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch21"> -CHAPTER XXI.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">QUEEN AND KING.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">The</span> fifth Neustrian Revolution was complete. The <i>plébiscite</i> had -been taken, and by an overwhelming majority Prince Timoleon Lucanor -Malasorte was requested to proclaim himself Emperor of the Neustrians. -Such a request was naturally regarded as a command by the person most -concerned, and the telegram which informed foreign countries of the -result of the <i>plébiscite</i> contained also the first proclamation of -the Emperor Timoleon V. A semi-official <i>communiqué</i> accompanying the -intelligence announced that the betrothal of the new monarch to the -Grand-Duchess Sonya Eugenovna, cousin of the Emperor of Scythia, would -take place almost immediately, and that this union would cement a -closer alliance between the two countries than could ever have -subsisted while the government of one was an autocracy and of the -other a republic. These items of news were received without surprise -by Europe generally, but in one distant corner of the continent they -resulted in a wholly unexpected series of events. -</p> - -<p> -It happened that there was a luncheon-party at the Palace at -Bellaviste, to which the Premier, who had but just received the -message from Neustria, came late, bringing the telegram with him. He -said nothing until the meal was over, but then asked for an immediate -audience of the King. Displeased by the breaking-up of her party, and -no more disposed than she had been as Miss Steinherz to accept meekly -anything that interfered with her wishes, Queen Félicia sent her -equerry to ask her husband and Prince Mirkovics what the news was. The -King, who had learnt by experience that his bride was quite capable of -pursuing him and assisting at the interview unless her request was -complied with, sent her a copy of the telegram, which she read as she -moved about among her guests. -</p> - -<p> -“Logan, come right here. I want you this instant!” were the words that -startled the room, and made Baroness Radnika, who had accompanied the -new Queen as her mistress of the household, look round in distress. -She had thought Félicia cured of her Americanisms, but at the first -moment of excitement the old habits revived. A covert glance of -amusement passed between the ladies of the British and United States -legations, and the Baroness threw herself bravely into the breach by -trying to start a fresh subject of conversation as Maimie responded to -Félicia’s summons. -</p> - -<p> -“Read that, now. I might have been an empress to-day,” said the Queen, -putting the telegram into her friend’s hand. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I guess it isn’t my fault you are not,” was the swift answer, -given in an undertone, for Félicia’s words had been distinctly -audible. -</p> - -<p> -“That is so. And we can’t alter things now, any way.” -</p> - -<p> -“No; you’ll just have to make the best of them.” -</p> - -<p> -That was all, but Félicia remained pensive for the rest of the day, -and there were those at hand who watched her every look and treasured -up any incautious word. One of these was King Michael’s aide-de-camp, -Captain Andreivics, to whom his master had recently intimated that he -might make himself useful by marrying Maimie, so that, while still -about the Court, she might be removed from her position of paramount -influence with Félicia. Somewhat against his will, so far as his -personal feelings were concerned, but with a keen sense of the -direction in which his material interests pointed, the aide-de-camp -had done his best to obey, only to find himself smartly refused by -Maimie, and to become, as he shrewdly suspected, a never-failing -subject of amusement to his lady-love and the Queen. To-day he saw his -opportunity for a neat little revenge on both of them, for even at -this early date the married life of the royal couple was by no means a -path of roses. The King’s marriage had been extremely popular in -Thracia, on account of the reputed wealth of the bride, which was -expected to descend in a golden shower on all classes of the -community. But it had proved rather to resemble the grants made to -deserving objects by certain philanthropic bodies, which require as a -condition of their reception that at least an equal amount shall be -raised by the locality benefited. Moreover, the thrifty Thracians, -already disturbed in their minds by the cost of the festivities -incident upon the state entry of the King and Queen into their -capital, found that their new sovereign had no intention of serving -the country at the cost of her own wishes. Addresses presented by -impassioned patriots implored her to adopt the national costume, which -it was quickly known she had pronounced hideous, and to encourage -local manufactures by wearing no materials but those made in Thracia, -which she flatly refused to do. King Michael had never shown himself -particularly amenable to the wishes of his people in the past, but he -had a lively sense of the value of popularity, and felt that it would -be an excellent thing for Félicia to make a few little sacrifices in -the interests of the nation and the dynasty. Unfortunately, however, -Félicia did not take this view of things. The King had already become -aware that to be her husband meant chiefly that he was responsible for -providing her with a “good time” generally, and that any attempt to -coerce her would be either ignored or laughed aside. He had sufficient -self-control to behave as if his forced acquiescence was due to a -natural willingness to indulge his bride as far as possible, but he -was keenly on the look-out for some means of inflicting an exemplary -defeat upon her. It was unfortunate for him that in the first fall he -tried with her, he himself was the defeated party. Félicia’s yacht, -the Bluebird, in which they had spent the honeymoon, was about to -convey them on a series of visits to various foreign Courts. King -Michael wished to arm the vessel and change her status to that of a -warship, thus doubling the numerical strength of the Thracian navy at -one stroke; but Félicia not only refused her assent to the change, -but persisted in continuing to sail the ship under the Stars and -Stripes, and retaining her American crew. King Michael saw Maimie’s -hand in this, and lacking the wisdom which would have led him to wait -for the moment when the crew would begin to grumble at serving so far -from home, argued the matter with Félicia on every possible occasion. -His only hope of success lay in winning her over to his side, for her -marriage-contract secured to her the absolute control of the vessel, -but he could not bring himself to let the subject drop, and begin -again when she had forgiven his persistence, and things were thus ripe -for a quarrel between the two. -</p> - -<p> -As for Félicia, she had obtained her ambition, and it wholly failed -to satisfy her. Considered as the capital of a Balkan state, -Bellaviste was wonderfully advanced, but to her it seemed dull, behind -the times, and above all, provincial. The Thracians, who had so -sturdily resisted Queen Ernestine’s efforts to Europeanise them, were -not more ready to succumb to the fascinations of Queen Félicia, even -when these were backed by the prestige of her wealth, and she was -beginning to see that her intention of gathering a gay society around -her was not likely to become a reality. People who were accustomed to -Lutetia and Vindobona might pay a flying visit to this far corner of -Europe if a series of special festivities was in progress, but they -would not make a long stay, and most emphatically they would never -regard Bellaviste seriously as a spot which must be visited once a -year. Thus disillusioned, Félicia found herself suddenly face to face -with the fact that by her own action, or inaction, long ago she had -thrown away the chance of reigning as the supreme arbitress of taste -and fashion in the city which to her, as to all good Americans, was -the actual centre of the world. Instead of setting the fashions, all -she could now do was to be allowed, by the special favour of the great -<i>couturiers</i> she patronised, to follow them at secondhand, and her -taste could only be imposed upon the small and often recalcitrant -circle of Thracian officialdom, instead of upon an admiring world. -</p> - -<p> -Left to herself, Félicia would doubtless have followed Maimie’s -prudent advice, and, with the common-sense on which she prided -herself, have determined to make the best of her position, but she had -gained too many enemies to be allowed to do this. Captain Andreivics -found an ally in one of the many ladies to whom King Michael’s -unguarded attentions in past years had given hopes of sharing his -throne, hopes doomed to be blighted by a sudden and somewhat tardy -recollection on his part of the duty he owed to his house. Félicia’s -remark to Maimie, her obvious depression during the rest of the day, -offered abundant material for disturbing the mind of a husband who was -already notoriously prone to jealousy, and almost without knowing it, -the conspirators added a touch here, and deepened a shadow there, -until the least that could be imagined was that Félicia had played -off Prince Timoleon Malasorte and himself against one another until -her very marriage-day, and had only chosen him at last because she -distrusted his rival’s prospects of establishing himself on the -Neustrian throne. Whispers followed as to a certain mysterious cabinet -in the inner boudoir which was sacred to her Majesty and Miss Logan. -This cabinet had never been seen open, but ladies on duty in the outer -rooms had heard it closed and locked, after the Queen and her -favourite had sat for a long time rustling papers and talking in low -tones. What more likely than that the cabinet contained love-letters, -which would prove to King Michael that he had been cruelly duped by -his bride, and in which she took a stolen pleasure even now? -</p> - -<p> -There was this amount of inherent probability in the suggestions which -Captain Andreivics ventured, somewhat gingerly at first, to throw out, -that King Michael was very well aware Félicia had played off Usk and -himself against one another in the manner described, so that she might -quite conceivably have treated a third unfortunate in the same way -without their knowledge. He had viewed her treatment of Usk with a -fine indifference, but he was the last man to submit meekly to similar -usage himself. Moreover, if there was any foundation for the -aide-de-camp’s hints, Maimie also had deceived him in the most -barefaced way, which demanded condign punishment. A strong man would -have taxed both women openly with the alleged deception, but King -Michael preferred to work on different lines. Armed with various -bunches of keys, he made his way that evening by a private passage -from his rooms to Félicia’s. The door opening into the passage from -the inner boudoir was locked, but he opened it with a master-key, -after listening to make sure that Félicia and Maimie were not talking -inside. The room was empty, and switching on the electric light, he -began to try the lock of the cabinet—a fanciful thing of old French -workmanship, but well made and in excellent repair—with one key after -another. To his disgust, there was not one that would open it, though -he found two that seemed to fit. Striking a match, and examining the -lock closely by its light, he saw where the difficulty lay, and that -it was easily overcome. The blade of his knife, inserted where the -doors met, forced back the bolt at once, and the secrets of the -cabinet lay open before him. Moreover, the cabinet was packed with -them; the mass of evidence was enormous. But as he took out one thing -after another at random, he grew more and more perplexed. There were -ball-programmes, bouquet-holders, <i>bonbonnières</i>, cotillon gifts and -favours, a few valentines or Christmas cards of a specially flattering -character, some invitations to important or exclusive gatherings. It -was an interesting social museum, but it was not what he wanted. He -pulled out the drawer at the top. Photographs!—he clutched them -eagerly. But they were all of Félicia herself, in every possible -variety of dress and attitude, and each marked with the date and place -of its taking. More angry than ever, he drew out the deep drawer at -the bottom. It was very full, and the rustling of paper rewarded him -as he plunged his hand into it. But it was all newspaper—a collection -of cuttings from all sorts and conditions of American journals, -forming Félicia’s social biography, from her school “graduation” and -coming-out ball to her marriage, over which the journalistic mind -appeared to have run riot. There were interviews with her of various -dates, accompanied by unrecognisable portraits of herself and of “J. -Bertram Steinherz, father of Miss Steinherz,” and of “the late Mrs -Constance L. Steinherz,” and interior and exterior views of the family -abode. Some of the accounts had a small piece of dress-material -carefully pinned to them, evidently that of the gown worn at the ball -or theatre-party in question, and all were neatly arranged and -docketed. -</p> - -<p> -King Michael stood before the rifled cabinet in a towering rage. He -was in no mood for the consolation, of which the examination of his -wife’s dearest treasures might have assured him, that she loved no one -but herself; all he felt was that he was in an absurd and ungraceful -position. To put everything back as he had found it was almost an -impossibility, even if he could get the cabinet-door to lock again. If -he could not, Félicia and that American woman would guess the truth -at once. Only one person would tamper with the cabinet so clumsily if -he ventured to do it all. He was beginning to lay the papers in the -drawer as smoothly as he could, trusting that Félicia might not -remember the exact order in which she had left them, when he was -horrified by the sound of voices in the next room. -</p> - -<p> -“I just wish that Paris store would hurry up with those albums, -Maime,” said Félicia, and her voice was coming closer. “When one has -them make things to one’s own design, they’re so awfully long about -it.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’d have them send one at a time, just as they’re finished,” Maimie -answered. “Then we can start on your graduation right away.” -</p> - -<p> -“I guess I will,” said Félicia, as she drew the curtain aside. “Say!” -she cried shrilly, “and what are you doing here, Michael?” -</p> - -<p> -She seemed to grow taller as he looked at her, and towered above him -so magnificently that he was conscious of actual fear. He tried to -bluster the matter out. -</p> - -<p> -“And if I am here, madame, has not your husband a right to—to——” -</p> - -<p> -“To go through my private papers?” with deadly quietness. -</p> - -<p> -“Exactly. I claim that right, and I exercise it.” -</p> - -<p> -“And to break into my bureau?” Her quick eye had caught sight of the -knife, and she took possession of it before he could prevent her. -“Thanks for the warning. You may claim your right just as much as ever -you want to, but you’ve exercised it for the last time.” -</p> - -<p> -“In that you will find yourself mistaken, madame.” -</p> - -<p> -“You are pretty much mistaken if you think you’ll have the chance of -doing it again. Why, you little miserable——” she stopped suddenly. -“But I won’t call you names. You’ll hear plenty before long from other -people.” -</p> - -<p> -“In your present rank of life, madame, it is not the custom to make -the world a sharer in family disputes.” -</p> - -<p> -“It is unavoidable at times,” drawled Félicia—“when a separation is -to be arranged, for instance.” -</p> - -<p> -“This is preposterous. You have no grounds for anything of the kind.” -</p> - -<p> -“Just wait until I go way back to the States and ask for one.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do you imagine that you will be permitted to visit America for any -such purpose? No, madame, let us look at this affair in a sensible -light. If I have damaged your cabinet, I will replace it. Your -interesting records you will find untouched, and I shall be happy to -add some article of value to your collection—” he waved his hand -towards the drawers of nicknacks—“to show my regret for this slight -misunderstanding. You will be so good as to make your own choice.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you think you can bribe an American woman to overlook an insult -like this?” demanded Félicia, but Maimie was at her side. -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t fuss over it any more to-night, Fay. Leave things till -morning.” -</p> - -<p> -“Miss Logan’s advice is excellent. I trust I shall find you in a more -accommodating temper in the morning, madame. I wish you a very good -night,” and King Michael left the room with what dignity he could -muster. At a sign from Félicia, Maimie locked the door after him. -</p> - -<p> -“Maime, what about the Bluebird’s steam launch?” asked Félicia -quickly. -</p> - -<p> -“It was to wait around at the steps up to midnight to see if there was -any change in the orders for to-morrow. Are you real set on it, Fay?” -</p> - -<p> -“Dead set,” responded Félicia through her teeth. “Send those girls to -bed. Let them know I’m just pining for a walk on the terrace.” -</p> - -<p> -While Maimie went obediently to dismiss the dressers, Félicia threw -on a cloak, and pulled the hood over her head. She had another cloak -ready for Maimie when she returned, but close upon her heels came -Baroness Radnika, with an anxious face. -</p> - -<p> -“You will not walk on the terrace to-night, madame?” she said -uneasily. “It is cold, and the damp is rising from the river. I -thought I would venture to speak when I heard Miss Logan telling your -dressers.” -</p> - -<p> -“I am going out,” said Félicia. “I can’t stay indoors to-night.” -</p> - -<p> -“It is something more,” said the Baroness, coming closer, and laying -her hands on Félicia’s shoulders. “Forgive me, madame, but I see it -in your face. You will not gratify your slanderers by giving them such -a handle against you? Ah, dear child, I loved your father; bear with -me, and listen to me now. Don’t take this step, whatever it may be. -You are excited—agitated——” -</p> - -<p> -“Feel of my hand, Baroness. There’s no excitement there—not much! I’m -real fond of you, but I can’t have you delay me this way. The step I -am going to take is due to myself, and nobody will blame me when they -know the reason. If you’ll sort these things here, I’ll be grateful, -for I may send for them soon, and I’m sorry that you’ll just have to -stay here till morning.” -</p> - -<p> -She withdrew herself from the clinging hands as she spoke, and before -the Baroness knew what she was going to do, she had passed under the -curtain Maimie was holding, and locked the door of the larger boudoir. -This portion of the palace was now deserted for the night, and the -Baroness could not make up her mind to attract the attention of any of -the sentries in the garden to her position. Perhaps she had misjudged -Félicia; she might only be intending to walk on the terrace, as she -had said, but the Baroness’s heart misgave her as she remembered that -the Bluebird was lying at the mouth of the river, with her fires -banked, in case the King and Queen should be able to make a start -early on the morrow. She would have been more anxious still if she had -known that the yacht’s steam-launch was waiting off the palace itself -for orders, and that those orders were conveyed to it by Félicia in -person. But when the astonishing news arrived in the morning that the -Queen was missing, and that her yacht had steamed out to sea in the -night, it was the Baroness, released after a weary vigil, who -undertook to face the King in the first fury of his wrath. He would -send his gunboat to pursue the Bluebird, he would telegraph to every -port that she was to be detained, he would enlist the help of every -government in Europe to restore his truant wife, and he would—he -would—words failed to express the punishment that should be meted out -to every one concerned in the affair. But the Baroness held her -ground, and fought Félicia’s battle with a courage which was -absolutely regardless of the King’s frantic displeasure. To prevent a -scandal, and leave the way open for the two to be brought together -again, was her only aim, and she had her reward, when she left the -King’s presence at last, in the brief announcement which was to be -added to the daily Court Circular:— -</p> - -<div class="letter"> - -<p> -“Her Majesty the Queen, attended by Miss Logan, left Bellaviste last -night on board the royal yacht Bluebird for a short cruise. His -Majesty the King, who had intended to accompany her Majesty, is -detained some time longer by the course of public affairs.” -</p> - -</div> - -<p> -“For real genuine slave-driving commend me to a pretty woman who knows -her own value—as all pretty women ought to,” added Mr Hicks -gallantly, repenting, apparently, of his opening complaint. -</p> - -<p> -“Who is the lady?” asked Usk. -</p> - -<p> -“No less a person than her Majesty Queen Félicia, sir. She is lying -off Paranati in the Bluebird, and has had the mate come over the -mountains on horseback at the risk of his life, with a message for me -that she has no use for matrimony just now, and I may as well fix up a -separation.” -</p> - -<p> -“What, already?” cried Usk, with unintentional irony. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, certainly. The King has insulted her unpardonably, so she says, -and I guess there isn’t anything to be done but eliminate him for the -future.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then you will be obliged to go to her at Paranati?” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s so, and it makes me real mad. I had concluded to wander around -in these parts some, and try and solve the mystery of this last -disappearance of the Count’s, and now I don’t see but you’ll have to -do what you can without me. What riles me is the way things seem to -work for the other side all the time. It’s that which is telling on -Lady Usk too, I guess.” -</p> - -<p> -Usk nodded gravely, for it seemed as if Helene could not forgive -herself for her failure to rescue Cyril. In vain her husband and Mr -Hicks pointed out that she could not in any case have saved him by -herself, and that the circumstances made it impossible for her to get -together a band of helpers. She was convinced that there was something -she might have done if she had had more presence of mind, or even—to -go back to the beginning of her misfortunes—that she would have done -far better not to approach the Pelenko mansion at all, rather than -give the alarm by her sudden appearance there, and thus enable Dr -Gregorescu to remove his patient. That there was some truth in this -could not be denied, and Helene brooded over it until she was at times -persuaded that Usk must hate her for her disastrous interference, and -she made herself miserable over an alienation which was quite -imaginary. To Usk such a state of mind was utterly incomprehensible. -Helene was tired after her adventures and inclined to be morbid, he -thought, and he dragged her out into the fresh air, and scolded her -good-humouredly, never dreaming that she took his scoldings seriously -to heart, and believed that he invited her out with him as a matter of -duty. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s a real misfortune that your mother is set fast at Geneva, and -Queen Ernestine at Vindobona,” Mr Hicks went on. “You and I, Lord Usk, -we don’t know just the way to get hold of a little sensitive girl like -that, and put things so’s she must take a cheerful view of them. We -can’t seem to fix it that she should have a good cry, and feel better, -which is what she wants.” -</p> - -<p> -Usk was silent. His private opinion was that Helene cried a great deal -without feeling any better, but he was not going to say this to Mr -Hicks, although he did not resent his curious assumption of a share in -the charge of her, knowing that any woman in trouble imposed a -responsibility upon the American to see that she was comforted or -righted. -</p> - -<p> -“Did you try suggesting to her that her mother should come here?” Mr -Hicks asked. -</p> - -<p> -“Yes; but it was no good. She said at once that her mother couldn’t -leave her father, and that the Grand-Duke wouldn’t like this place at -all.” -</p> - -<p> -“No; I guess he’d raise Cain a few dozen times a day, which wouldn’t -be soothing to his daughter’s nerves. And did you propose that she -should take a fortnight’s vacation, and go right home to them?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes; and it made her perfectly miserable. She thought I wanted to -send her away from me, and she was so unhappy I had to promise never -to suggest such a thing again.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, well!” remarked Mr Hicks soothingly, “things will pan out all -right yet. You know the pay-dirt’s there, and by and bye you’ll get -down to the bed-rock, and find you’re come upon a real Bonanza. -That’ll be when you understand her all through, see? And for the -present you’ll do your level best to be father and mother to her as -well as husband. That starched stone image of a maid of hers is worse -than no one. And I wouldn’t wonder if things will all go smooth when -once we start finding the Count, any way. That little lady of yours -has so much grit that it only needs an emergency to bring her along -smiling.” -</p> - -<p> -“Pity the emergency doesn’t hurry up!” said Usk. “Why, Hicks, there -must be a countryman of yours inside there,” as a slow voice of -extraordinary solemnity, speaking in English, made itself audible on -the terrace where they sat. -</p> - -<p> -“That’s the mate of the Bluebird,” responded Mr Hicks. “I told him -come out here when he was finished stoking. Is that you, Mr Bradwell? -Come right out. Did the folks give you a good square meal?” -</p> - -<p> -“According to their lights, sir, according to their lights.” The -sailor, a gaunt middle-aged man, emerged from the doorway and bowed to -Usk. “They don’t know to fix that sort of thing properly here.” -</p> - -<p> -“Nor anywhere out of the States,” agreed Mr Hicks heartily. “I don’t -wonder her Majesty is tired of these one-horse countries. Did I hear -you say she didn’t incline to go back to Thracia alive?” -</p> - -<p> -“Won’t trust herself on shore, not even to visit the Prince and -Princess,” was the reply. “Ship prepared for action, rifles got up and -ball ammunition served out. Boats patrolling around all night, watch -on deck forbidden to snooze.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, she knows her way about!” said Mr Hicks admiringly. For a few -minutes they smoked in silence, and then the sailor inquired -suddenly— -</p> - -<p> -“Is there any sort of a State asylum in these parts?” -</p> - -<p> -“Not much there isn’t—not near here, any way. What’s the racket?” -</p> - -<p> -“What would be your candid opinion of a man that located one in the -mountains, just over the Dardanian frontier there?” -</p> - -<p> -“Either that he was the worst kind of a fool, or that he had concluded -it was safer to keep himself out of sight.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well,” pursued the sailor slowly, “there’s one of our firemen taken -to hurling chunks of coal at the other men instead of into the -furnaces. It ain’t only his fun, but the rest of the boys object to -it. It seemed sort of suitable when I asked that guide of mine this -afternoon what a certain house was, and he gave me to understand it -was a lunatic asylum. I don’t see but a week or two way up there while -we’re lying off Paranati might set this nigger right.” -</p> - -<p> -“You didn’t go so far as make any inquiries?” asked Mr Hicks. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I just did, as we were giving the horses a rest in the village. -Saw the doctor chap, ain’t been long at the business, only one patient -at present, old fellow who’s forgotten his own name, but looks smart -enough.” -</p> - -<p> -“What’s the doctor’s name?” broke from Usk and Mr Hicks together. -</p> - -<p> -“Gregory? no, something sort of foreign-sounding—Gregorescu, here it -is. I said I would have him hear from me.” -</p> - -<p> -“So you shall, to-morrow morning,” said Mr Hicks, “and I’ll go along -there with you.” -</p> - -<p> -“The doctor would as lief be rid of this old fellow, I guess. He told -me he was quite safe to be allowed out, but he didn’t know where to -find his friends.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then his friends will find him. Did you say you were coming here?” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, yes, I guess I did.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t just see this,” murmured Mr Hicks, “but we will look into it -to-morrow.” -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch22"> -CHAPTER XXII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">OPENING THE PRISON DOORS.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">When</span> Mr Bradwell started the next morning on his return journey to -the Dardanian port, Mr Hicks accompanied him, not without strong -opposition from Usk and Helene. Dr Gregorescu’s extraordinary change -of front, as exhibited in his interview with the mate, seemed to them -to show that the only thing that needed to be done was to go in a body -and demand and obtain Cyril’s release, but Mr Hicks could not satisfy -himself that the matter was so simple. The utmost he would concede was -that four hours after he had started, they might drive out as far as -the bend of the road where Helene had first lost her way, and wait -there in case he sent back a message by Jakob, whom he would take with -him, and William could ride out with the carriage, as it might be an -advantage to have another man at hand. But when Usk asked scoffingly -what was the object of all these warlike preparations, Mr Hicks -confessed that he didn’t know. It was simply that he couldn’t seem to -see such an elaborate plot peter out without some sort of a surprise -for somebody. -</p> - -<p> -The two Americans and Jakob accomplished their journey to the village -without mishap, although Mr Bradwell, who had seldom ridden any -distance until the day before, was glad to adopt one of the high -native saddles, well padded with sheep-skins, instead of the European -one he had used. Arrived at the village, the horses were left in -Jakob’s care, and Mr Hicks and his friend turned into the rough track -which led to the asylum. This track branched off from the village -street at its upper end, where the road, now fairly in Dardania, -became little better than a bridle-path, and the house stood on an -isolated hill about a mile away. It had been a kind of watch-tower or -rude fort in the Roumi times, but of late years had been enlarged and -adapted to the purposes of an ordinary dwelling by a wealthy merchant -of Paranati, who thought it would prove a pleasant summer retreat. He -had made the winding path leading up the hill passable for the rough -vehicles of the country, even if it could not justly be called a -carriage-road, and he was proceeding to plant the bare hillside and -lay out gardens, when a disastrous speculation plunged him into -poverty, and left the place to its old isolation. It seemed admirably -fitted for Dr Gregorescu’s ostensible purpose. The situation was airy -and commanded splendid views, there was space for moderate exercise -within the outer circle of the old fortifications, and any patient who -succeeded in escaping over the walls would be in view from the gateway -almost as far as the foot of the hill. -</p> - -<p> -Mr Hicks noted the possibilities of the place with a jealous eye as he -and his companion climbed the path. There were one or two points where -it might be possible to effect an entrance, but there was no way of -descending the hill but by this path, which wound in zigzag fashion up -the slope, with a steep cliff above it on one side and below it on the -other. There were turns at which the passenger would be invisible from -the gate for a moment or two, but he could not reach the foot without -coming into view again. If Dr Gregorescu were really willing to -surrender his patient peaceably, it was a most extraordinary piece of -good fortune, but why should he establish himself in a place of such -natural advantages if he had no intention of making use of them? -</p> - -<p> -Mr Hicks was on the look out for suspicious circumstances, and when he -met Dr Gregorescu face to face the interview seemed to justify him in -the belief that the doctor was a party to the whole of the plot. Mr -Bradwell was despatched to view the building with a Greek attendant -who spoke French, and to make arrangements for the reception of the -unfortunate fireman, and Mr Hicks approached delicately the subject of -Prince Shishman Pelenko. When he hinted that the patient thus styled -might in reality be identical with a missing personage of importance -in whose fate he took a deep interest, the doctor rose to the bait -immediately, with every appearance of frankness. His story was that he -had received the charge of the unfortunate man from a lady, whose name -he was not at liberty to mention, but whom Mr Hicks understood at once -to be Mlle. Garanine. This lady explained that while travelling with -her, Prince Shishman had been seized suddenly with the distressing -delusion that his life was perpetually threatened, which was -accompanied by an entire loss of memory, and almost of the sense of -personal identity. There was no reason why Dr Gregorescu should doubt -her statement as to his patient’s name at the time, for when they -arrived at the Pelenko mansion they were expected and welcomed. -Moreover, the day after their arrival Prince Soudaroff called and had -a long interview with the patient, endeavouring in vain to rouse him -to any recollection of his former life. This account differed so -totally from that given to Usk and Helene by Prince Soudaroff himself -of his mission to Drinitza that Mr Hicks wondered for the moment -whether the doctor had really been a dupe throughout, but in an -instant he detected a false note. The evidence of the landlord of the -Drinitza inn showed conclusively that the mysterious visitors had -occupied the Pelenko mansion from the very evening on which Prince -Valerian had left it, and when Cyril had disappeared; and the -neighbourhood had been so strictly watched about the time of Prince -Soudaroff’s visit that the doctor, his patient, and their train of -attendants could not have arrived unnoticed. But since the doctor must -not be allowed to see that he had blundered, Mr Hicks repaid his -confidence by imparting to him, under a pledge of secrecy, the history -of Cyril’s disappearance, and suggested that he should be allowed to -see him without his knowledge. The doctor agreed to this at once, -remarking that he had begun to be doubtful as to the identity of his -patient of late, since Prince Valerian paid no attention whatever to -the detailed reports and other documents he forwarded to him, and no -other member of the family had shown the slightest interest. He took -the visitor up to one of the flat roofs of the building, which -commanded a view of a lower roof. On this lower roof Cyril was sitting -idle, as Helene had seen him in the garden, his hair and moustache -white, his expression perfectly vacant, except when he rolled a -cigarette with great care and neatness. A dreadful misgiving began to -creep into Mr Hicks’s mind. -</p> - -<p> -“If he’s not mad, it’s just about the finest imitation I ever saw,” he -thought, and then suggested to the doctor that they should show -themselves and speak to him. -</p> - -<p> -“Not from this distance,” was the reply, “but I shall be delighted to -take you to him and present you formally. The case is a most -interesting one, and I shall be glad to see whether there is any -return of memory at the sight of you. I suppose you still think this -is the person of whom you are in search?” -</p> - -<p> -The question was asked hastily, as if Dr Gregorescu feared he might -have aroused suspicion by taking for granted that the visitor would -know his patient, and Mr Hicks was also conscious that there might be -danger in a sudden meeting; but he remembered Cyril’s apparent -non-recognition of Helene, and took comfort as he accepted the -doctor’s offer. They passed through various passages, and at last came -out upon the roof where they had seen Cyril. He was sitting in a kind -of stone summer-house, open in front, with a bench running round the -three sides, and a rough wooden table in the middle. -</p> - -<p> -“May I be allowed to present to your Highness Mr Hicks, who is -travelling in this neighbourhood?” said Dr Gregorescu, appearing round -the corner of the summer-house with a suddenness which the visitor -felt sure was intentional. -</p> - -<p> -“How you startle one, Gregorescu!” said Cyril in French, rising and -bowing languidly. “This is not the first time I have had to speak to -you about your roughness. A man in my unfortunate position has at -least the right to expect consideration from his physician. Monsieur,” -he turned to Mr Hicks, “pardon the irritability of my nerves. It is -difficult for the young”—he waved his hand towards the doctor—“to -realise how the knowledge that death may be lurking at any corner -tends to unman one. You are an Englishman, I presume? My good doctor -will be able to air his linguistic attainments. He is a most -accomplished person.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, sir, an American,” said Mr Hicks laconically. “I understood from -you just now that you did not speak English?” he added sharply to Dr -Gregorescu. -</p> - -<p> -“His Highness is too kind. I speak a few words, just enough to make -English people laugh,” was the reply, and another black mark went down -against the doctor in Mr Hicks’s mind. -</p> - -<p> -“Mr Hicks is anxious to take your Highness away with him,” the doctor -went on. -</p> - -<p> -Cyril raised his eyebrows. “It is really very kind of Mr Hicks, but I -don’t quite see why I should go away with him,” he remarked. -</p> - -<p> -“If you remember the conversation we had a day or two ago, -Highness——” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, I see.” Cyril turned frankly to Mr Hicks. “You must understand, -monsieur, that I make no complaints against Dr Gregorescu, but—and I -say this to his face—I am not altogether satisfied with his -arrangements. I can quite believe that it was advisable to remove from -my brother’s house, since my enemies had tracked me there, and I only -escaped assassination by a secret and hasty departure, but I do not -care for the situation of this place. It is isolated—exposed. I have -the sensation of being set up to be shot at. Moreover, I understand -that the doctor intends to take other patients, which is a very -different thing from being my private physician, as I intended when I -placed myself under his care. Hence I should not refuse to -consider—merely to consider—proposals for a change.” -</p> - -<p> -“Count, you are colossal!” was the exclamation Mr Hicks only just -restrained himself from uttering. He looked inquiringly at the doctor. -</p> - -<p> -“His Highness’s remarks compel me to enter upon a rather awkward -subject,” was the response. “The money entrusted to me for his -Highness’s support by—the lady I mentioned to you, monsieur, is—is -very nearly exhausted, and——” -</p> - -<p> -“And you think his Highness’s friends might prefer to make their own -arrangements in future?” asked Mr Hicks. “Quite so.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, monsieur, why should we continue this farce?” cried the doctor -excitedly. “I see you have no doubt that my patient is in reality your -friend, Count Mortimer——” -</p> - -<p> -Cyril bowed smilingly. “You are very kind, to endow me with a new -name,” he said. -</p> - -<p> -“And nothing would please me better than to resign him to your care at -once,” the doctor went on; “but how could I reconcile it with my -conscience? You have no authority—you are not a relation. If he had -even recognised you”—his little black eyes were on Cyril’s face—“but -I cannot surrender him to a stranger.” -</p> - -<p> -“That is so,” agreed Mr Hicks, wondering what this portended. -</p> - -<p> -“If only you could bring his wife here; but you say she is dangerously -ill at Vindobona——” -</p> - -<p> -Mr Hicks saw Cyril start slightly, very slightly, and interposed -hastily. “Not dangerously ill, doctor; you mistook me. In fact, when -she hears I have found her husband, I think she will be well at once. -As you say, the best thing will be to bring her here. But she could -scarcely arrive in less than a week, for she must travel slowly.” -</p> - -<p> -“If his Excellency will continue to put up with our poor quarters here -for that time——” -</p> - -<p> -“By all means,” said Cyril, with a whimsical smile. “But you place me -in a curious position, gentlemen. You propose to bring a charming -lady—of course she is charming—who is good enough to say that she is -my wife, to take care of me. Well and good; the lady and I can but see -one another, and the decision will lie with her, naturally. The state -of affairs is quite interesting.” -</p> - -<p> -“Perhaps,” said Mr Hicks, anxious to disarm any suspicion in the -doctor’s mind, “it might be well for the Queen to remain in this house -for a day or two before taking her husband away. You would then see -whether there was any hope of his recognising her——” -</p> - -<p> -“Or any fear of a recurrence of violence,” said the doctor. -</p> - -<p> -“There is one important point which doesn’t seem to have occurred to -you,” said Cyril, with languid impatience. “My personal safety must be -provided for. Mr dear Mr Hicks, I like your countenance, but you must -understand that I cannot consent to leave a place of comparative -security in order to plunge into constant danger. You and the lady of -whom you speak will be good enough to make adequate arrangements for -protecting me from assassination when I am outside these walls. You -will also, if you please, arrange to defray any sum that may be due to -Dr Gregorescu for his services by that time. His mentioning money -matters was quite unnecessary, but since he is so deeply concerned -about them, pray let him feel himself secure. That is all I have to -say. Please make your own arrangements. I shall be delighted to fall -in with them, if these two points are remembered.” He rolled himself -another cigarette, and leaned back in his seat, tapping with his -fingers on the table as if tired of the subject, while Mr Hicks and -the doctor, the latter looking much subdued, entered into a discussion -as to ways and means. It was while they were trying to arrange how -Queen Ernestine could be accommodated in a house which contained no -female inhabitants, that Mr Hicks was struck by the intentness of -Cyril’s gaze at the doctor. -</p> - -<p> -“What can it mean?” he thought. “And that tapping—how he keeps it up! -It might be Morse—Jehoshaphat! it <i>is</i> Morse. Four dots, two dots, -dash dot dash dot, dash dot dash, three dots—<i>Hicks</i>! Hicks! Hicks! -and he’s been doing it five minutes already. I understand you -perfectly,” he said slowly to the doctor. “There is a difficulty. -Perhaps the best plan will be for Lady Usk to drive over here and see -what can be done. A woman’s notions often come in useful for -circumventing a deadlock.” -</p> - -<p> -Dr Gregorescu welcomed the suggestion, and thought that it might be -advisable to hire some furniture, either from Paranati or Novigrad, -with a view to the Queen’s visit. Paranati was nearer, but the absence -of roads made it almost hopeless to send there. Decidedly Novigrad -would be better, but then there was the difficulty of the frontier. Mr -Hicks listened and agreed, while all the time, though his eyes were -fixed on the doctor, he was interpreting the tapping on the table. -</p> - -<p> -“<i>Hicks, get me out of this to-day, for heaven’s sake! He suspects -something. I shall be mad in real earnest if you leave me here another -week.</i>” -</p> - -<p> -To answer this appeal, Mr Hicks summoned to his aid all the fertility -of invention which had made him famous in three continents. He dared -not respond by tapping on the table, but from where he sat Cyril could -see his knee, while it was hidden from the doctor. Tapping the knee -smartly for a dot, and rubbing his finger along softly for a dash, he -answered according to the code. -</p> - -<p> -“<i>Be here this afternoon, and when you hear a row down below, watch -out for a stone.</i>” Then he turned to the doctor and summed up. “If I -can get a message to Lady Usk in time, she shall come up this -afternoon, and you will settle with her what arrangements you can -make. The Queen will arrive in a week, possibly sooner, and you will -keep his Excellency under your care until then? My friend and I must -go over to Paranati to bring that poor mad chap, for he ought to be in -your charge as soon as possible, and I may be back here almost as soon -as Lady Usk, but if I haven’t arrived, you will explain things to -her?” -</p> - -<p> -The doctor agreed, and he and Mr Hicks parted with the utmost -cordiality. The patient Mr Bradwell, reduced to utter silence from -having exhausted every possible topic of conversation with his guide, -was rescued from the bench in the porter’s lodge where he was meekly -smoking, and the two men walked down the hill together. No sooner were -they out of earshot of the asylum than Mr Hicks said— -</p> - -<p> -“Now, Eben Bradwell, buck up. You’ve got the very biggest order on -hand to-day that you ever had, and don’t you forget it.” -</p> - -<p> -“I guess this ain’t the first time I’ve shepherded a lunatic gently -into an asylum,” was the reply, in a somewhat injured tone. -</p> - -<p> -“Ebenezer,” said Mr Hicks, “that isn’t a circumstance to what I’m -going to have you do to-day. You’ll just make the journey to Paranati -and back in the quickest time you ever travelled, and you’ll bring -along with you the smartest man on board the Bluebird.” -</p> - -<p> -“If you air alluding to that unfortunate darkey, I guess——” -</p> - -<p> -“I am not alluding to him, but to a smart man that must take his -place. I wouldn’t hand over my worst enemy to that smooth-tongued Dago -back of us, after the time we’re going to give him to-day. No, sir; -what that smart man of yours has to do is to try and give you the slip -right at the foot of the hill here, and after a real hard fight, with -as much yelling and general violence as he can get in for the money, -to lead the chase way back into Dardania. You will have despatched a -messenger as soon as he began to be ugly to entreat the doctor to come -and try his influence on him, see?” -</p> - -<p> -“You want the doctor out of the road for a bit, is that so? Well, sir, -I like the notion, and I know the man that’ll tumble to it. We’ll make -a real handsome nigger out of him.” -</p> - -<p> -“That’s so, but there mustn’t be any waste of time. You’ve just got to -break the record getting to Paranati and back. Pour out the dollars -like water if they’re needed. I’ll have Lady Usk’s Dutchy go with you -to do the talking, for I must stay and fix things up here, but I’ll -meet you in the village, and the patient needn’t begin his star -performances before then.” -</p> - -<p> -“And what about her Majesty’s message that I brought you?” -</p> - -<p> -“I guess her Majesty will just have to wait until this row is hoed. If -she’s so mad that she gets reconciled again, it won’t hurt me, any -way.” -</p> - -<p> -With this reckless defiance of Queen Félicia, Mr Hicks sped the mate -and Jakob on their way, and himself returned along the road to meet -Usk and Helene. He found them waiting faithfully, but fuming, at the -appointed spot, and he unfolded the plan he had elaborated as he rode. -To one point Usk objected strongly. -</p> - -<p> -“I won’t have Helene mixed up in the rescue,” he said. “She can stay -in the village, and we’ll pick her up as we come back.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t see but we must have her come with us,” said Mr Hicks -doubtfully, “or we won’t be enough for the business. You, sir, will -have your hands full getting the rope to your uncle and helping him -down it, and Lady Usk will be wanted to hold the doctor in talk, for I -must be way down the hill with Bradwell’s outfit. Then when the doctor -is sent for to help us, you must distract the janitor’s attention -while the Count slips past. If the charms of your conversation will do -it, so much the better, but if not, then the six-shooter I warned you -to bring will come into play. I must have Lady Usk wait with William -and the buggy at the turn of the track out of sight of the gateway, -for there’s no other way of getting the Count down the hill without -being seen. You have the waterproof apron on the buggy, Lady Usk, I -hope? I guess you’ll admire to take your part in saving the Count, -won’t you? Don’t you go and have an upset down the hill; drive gently -till you’re through the village, but then just take it out of the -horses until you’re past the Pannonian frontier-post. I’ve had a word -with the boss there. He can’t do anything to help us, for fear of a -frontier incident, but once you’re safe across he’ll see you’re not -followed.” -</p> - -<p> -“But supposing these Dardanian fellows fire—she may be hit!” cried -Usk. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, sir, there’ll be your uncle and William, who won’t have her get -hurt if they can help it. And as I said, I wouldn’t bring a woman into -this if there was any other way of fixing things, but your wife has -grit, and she’ll take the risk.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, Usk, please, <i>please</i>!” entreated Helene, squeezing his arm very -hard. “You know it was my fault he wasn’t saved before. If I could -really help to save him this time!” -</p> - -<p> -Usk yielded, with a sufficiently bad grace, and they waited -impatiently until Mr Hicks thought the mate’s party would be on its -way back from Paranati, and then started for the frontier. The -Gendarmerie officer at the Pannonian post came out and wished them -luck as they passed, and they crossed the frontier-line and began to -climb the street of the village, which lay some few hundred yards -beyond it. Several of Helene’s old acquaintances came out to greet -her, and while she talked to them through the imperfect medium of the -customs-officer as interpreter, Mr Hicks and Usk went into the -post-office for a moment. When they emerged, Usk looked noticeably -stouter, a fact attributable to the length of thin, tough rope, -knotted at intervals, which was wound round his body under his coat. -This rope Mr Hicks had obtained in the morning through the postmaster, -and ensuring his secrecy by a judicious gift and the promise of -another, had employed him to make the knots. It would have been wholly -inadequate had the asylum been a modern building, with smooth, -well-finished walls, but the masonry had been rough when it was first -laid, and was now so weather-beaten that a young and active man might -almost have descended it without the aid of a rope at all. -</p> - -<p> -Mr Hicks remained in the village to meet Mr Bradwell, and William, -leaving his horse, took the driver’s seat in the buggy. Usk walked up -the hill by the side of the carriage, and loitered about the gateway, -while Helene, with much outward dignity and inward shrinking, paid her -call upon the doctor. It was almost more than her husband could endure -to let her enter the place by herself. What if she should be kidnapped -too! But she looked round and smiled at him bravely when she went in -at the gate, and after he had fidgeted about for the prescribed three -or four minutes, he began to take an interest in the masonry, and to -cross-question the porter. The man knew nothing of the history of the -place, but he intimated that the noble gentleman was quite at liberty -to walk round the outside, as far as the cliff afforded a foothold, -and see what the rest of the walls were like. Usk waited only until he -was out of sight of the gateway to unwind himself from the rope, and -fasten the end of it round a suitable stone. Then he went on, along a -very narrow ledge, until it ended suddenly, and he caught sight of -Cyril looking over the wall some ten feet farther on. At first his -heart stood still as he realised that he could not get under the wall -at the right spot, but in a moment he saw that this did not really -signify. The ledge was so narrow that it would have been next to -impossible to throw the stone up perpendicularly with any hope of its -lodging on the wall, but from the spot where he stood he could throw -it diagonally with some chance of success. Cyril held up a finger as a -warning to him not to begin yet, and he gathered the rope in his left -hand and waited. Then the sound of a sudden tumult, shouts, yells, -expostulations, and blows, mounted to them from the foot of the hill. -Cyril nodded, and Usk threw the stone. After two or three attempts -which fell short, Cyril caught it, and began to draw up the rope. -</p> - -<p> -In the meantime, William and the gatekeeper were startled by the -appearance of Jakob, who dashed up hatless and dishevelled to entreat -that Dr Gregorescu would come down the hill at once. The lunatic from -the Bluebird had suddenly become violent, and refused to mount the -hill. He was fighting with such strength that Mr Hicks and Mr Bradwell -feared they could not restrain him much longer. It would take at least -six men to carry him up the hill, they thought. The doctor came out -promptly, making final arrangements hastily with Helene as he handed -her into the buggy, then hurried down the hill with three or four of -his Dardanian servants, while William started the horses on the steep -descent with cautious deliberation. At the turn in the track they -paused, William almost as much excited as his mistress, until the -tones of Usk’s voice as he asked the porter whether his wife had -started without waiting for him reached their ears. Almost immediately -there was the sound of hasty footsteps, and Cyril ran down the road. -William had handed the reins to Helene, and was out of the carriage -immediately, lifting the apron on the farther side, and in a moment -Cyril was crouching in the vacant space and hidden under the apron. -</p> - -<p> -“William, put up the hood, please,” said Helene, in a quick hard -voice, and the servant, alarmed by her tone, turned to see Dr -Gregorescu hurrying breathlessly round the turn in front of them. He -might have no suspicion at present, but he could not but be surprised -to see the carriage stopping and William standing in the road. -Helene’s presence of mind saved the situation, and William obeyed at -once. -</p> - -<p> -“Surely you must find this place very windy?” said Helene, as the -doctor passed them. “I feel quite cold. Will you kindly tell my -husband that I have driven on, if you meet him? But don’t let me keep -you. William, you had better lead the horses down the hill.” -</p> - -<p> -“A thousand pardons!” ejaculated Dr Gregorescu. “I cannot stay, -madame, for the poor fellow from the ship has escaped. We must -organise a search at once. Pray excuse me.” -</p> - -<p> -A gracious bow from Helene, and she drove on, her face so white and -her hands so powerless that William, at the horses’ heads, feared the -reins would be torn from her grasp. At the next turning he stopped. -</p> - -<p> -“Excuse me, my lady, but if his lordship would change hats and coats -with me, he might sit up aside of you and drive, and no one the wiser, -without they looked close under the ’ood, if you’ll forgive me -offerin’ advice.” -</p> - -<p> -“Excellent advice too, William,” came in Cyril’s voice, muffled by the -apron, “but what will you do?” -</p> - -<p> -“I’ll go off in your things, my lord, as if I was tryin’ to get to the -frontier post by a short cut, without passin’ through the village, and -lead ’em a rare dance. If they come up with me, I have my fistes.” -</p> - -<p> -As he spoke, William was divesting himself of his livery coat and -cockaded hat, and replacing them with the soft felt hat and light -overcoat Cyril handed to him. Cyril made the change almost as quickly, -and stepped in front of Helene to the driver’s seat. She gave up the -reins without a word, for she was incapable of speech, and they were -just starting when Usk rushed headlong down the hill behind them. -</p> - -<p> -“What’s all this? Oh, good! Drive for your life, Uncle Cyril. -Gregorescu’s found out! Now, William, let’s put them off the scent!” -and Usk and the disguised William plunged into the wilderness of rocks -and low bushes beside the track, where the carriage could not pass, as -if intending to cut off the angle formed by the turns of the road. -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t be frightened, Helene, but hold tight!” said Cyril, with a -smile at his companion, as he kept a firm hand on the reins. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I don’t mind. Go fast—oh, do go fast!” she cried, finding her -voice. -</p> - -<p> -“Not until we are down this hill,” he answered, but when they came to -the short stretch of level road leading to the village, the buggy -seemed to fly along. When they reached the corner, and turned down -into the village street, Helene screamed. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, they are taking the short cut too! They mean to catch us up -before we can reach the frontier-line.” -</p> - -<p> -“Never mind. They’re only after Usk and William, who don’t mean to be -caught. They won’t lead them across our track, you may be sure.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, no!” cried Helene, in agony. “I caught sight of Usk just for a -moment, and they must have seen him too, but they are not following. -They are coming straight across.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, they are after William, then,” said Cyril shortly. “Keep quiet, -Lenchen, and don’t frighten the horses.” -</p> - -<p> -He was driving very carefully down the steep street, which in some -places was almost as rough as a flight of steps, and the horses were -picking their way with the greatest daintiness. Suddenly Helene -screamed again. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I saw them—between the houses! They will be there before us! Oh, -do drive faster!” -</p> - -<p> -Standing up with one hand on the rail, she snatched the whip from -Cyril, and struck the horses wildly several times. They swerved across -the road, and Cyril was almost dragged from his seat. -</p> - -<p> -“Sit down, Lenchen!” he said angrily. “Do you want us both to be -killed?” -</p> - -<p> -He recovered the whip, but there was no holding the horses now. The -buggy clattered down the stony street, dispersing pigs and fowls and -goats as it came. Horrified mothers caught up their children from -before the very feet of the horses, and village elders, leaning -against their houses for a talk, drew back out of the road with an -injured air as the wheels crashed close by their toes. By some -miracle, as it seemed, the horses kept their feet, and the buggy was -not overturned, and when the foot of the hill was in sight, Cyril drew -a deep breath, and said to Helene— -</p> - -<p> -“It’s no use trying to pull up here. I’m going to rush them. Crouch. -Get under the apron if you can.” -</p> - -<p> -Glancing ahead, Helene saw that the Dardanians were straining every -nerve to reach the road and intercept them as soon as they were upon -the level. She slipped down under the apron as far as she could, and -Cyril urged the horses on. Only two men leaped into the road in time -to stand and meet them, and though both shouted that they would fire, -they were too much shaken by their run to take accurate aim. One -sprang aside, and struck a futile blow at Cyril with the butt-end of -his gun; the other was knocked down, and the horses, terrified by the -discharge of his rifle as he fell, and by the shouts which arose from -behind them, dashed on faster than ever. Two or three bullets struck -the hood of the buggy harmlessly. -</p> - -<p> -“Not much farther now, Lenchen,” said Cyril. “Get back to your seat, -at once, and if I say ‘Jump!’ do it immediately, do you hear?” -</p> - -<p> -Why should she jump? What could he see that made him think such a -thing might be necessary? Helene cowered on the seat beside him with -parted lips and staring eyes. Suddenly she saw what it was. A -Dardanian sprang from some bushes on the right of the road, and -standing in front of the horses, waved his arms and shouted. They -swerved aside, but Cyril brought them round again, and as the man -tried to leap up on the step of the carriage as it passed him, struck -at him with the whip. He fell back, but at the same moment a fusilade -broke out from the bushes, and terrified the horses beyond control. -The high pole which marked the frontier, bearing on this side the -emblems of Dardania, on the other those of Pannonia, was only a little -way in front, and just beyond it were the gendarmes and their officer, -drawn up in line, with their rifles ready. Cyril made a last effort to -direct the horses into the lane kept open for them between the two -ranks of men, but they dashed violently to the left, where the ground -sank into a kind of wooden glen. -</p> - -<p> -“Jump, Lenchen, jump!” cried Cyril, but Helene was too much frightened -to obey. She was conscious of a violent jolt, a crackling of branches, -the sensation of falling. There were shouts and cries, then a great -silence. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch23"> -CHAPTER XXIII.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub">THE PRICE TO BE PAID.</span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">It</span> was late at night, but the windows of the little inn at Drinitza -were still ablaze with lights. In the sitting-room which was held -sacred to Lord and Lady Usk, Cyril was lying upon a sofa, while Mr -Hicks bandaged systematically and scientifically the various injuries -he had received in being thrown out of the buggy. Usk was wandering in -and out of the room, restless and savagely miserable, for Helene had -not recovered consciousness since she was extricated from the wrecked -carriage, and Hannele and the doctor from Novigrad were with her -upstairs, and would not allow him even near her door. -</p> - -<p> -“There, Count!” said Mr Hicks, tying a final knot; “I guess you’re -about fixed up now, and I incline to think a meal of some sort would -be a judicious investment after all this mussing around. Lord Usk, if -we might requisition the services of that excellent William of yours -to forage for us——” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, tell him to do anything you like,” said Usk wearily, stepping out -on the terrace for the twentieth time. “I don’t want him.” -</p> - -<p> -The others heard him tramping up and down outside while William -removed the traces of Mr Hicks’s surgical labours, and brought in a -hastily prepared meal. Seeing that Cyril was helpless with a sprained -wrist, the servant asked if he should cut up his meat for him, but the -offer was declined. Presently Usk, finding the companionship of his -own thoughts intolerable, came back into the room. -</p> - -<p> -“Now, Lord Usk,” said Mr Hicks cheerfully, “just sit down and eat -something.” -</p> - -<p> -“No, no, I don’t want anything,” was the hasty answer. -</p> - -<p> -“Do you really feel that you can’t break bread with me, Usk?” asked -Cyril, pausing in his efforts to feed himself with his left hand. -</p> - -<p> -“It’s not that, of course. Here, let me cut that up for you, uncle. -It’s simply that I can’t eat.” -</p> - -<p> -“It is that. You feel that if it had not been for me that poor little -girl upstairs would have been sitting here with you as usual. It’s -quite true, but do you need to hear me say that if I had known what -was to happen I would never have stirred a step to escape—that I -would go back and give myself up to Gregorescu this moment if it would -do her any good?” -</p> - -<p> -“It’s not that,” repeated Usk. “I know it wasn’t your fault—or -Hicks’s or mine, except that we ought never to have let her come—but -that we, all of us strong men, should have got through without a -scratch, and a little delicate girl like her—oh, God! when we got her -out from under the buggy——” his voice failed. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, the Count has a good few scratches to show any way,” said Mr -Hicks judicially, “and so has that good fellow William, blubbering out -that he wished he was killed and her ladyship not hurt. But if I were -you, Lord Usk, I guess I’d find something else to do beyond tearing my -hair and scarifying my soul with remorse that way. You’ll be a fine -washed-out article when they want you upstairs to give a hand with the -nursing. Now, for your wife’s sake!” he took Usk by the shoulders, and -pushed him down into a chair, “I’ll have you make some sort of a meal, -or I’ll warn the doctor that it’ll only mean another patient on his -hands if he lets you sit up.” -</p> - -<p> -“I can’t hear what they are doing from here,” objected Usk. -</p> - -<p> -“Nor can any of us. But we can hear if they open the door, or come out -in the upper hall, and that’s just all you want. Now the Count is -going to tell us something of what he’s been through. Yes, sir,” he -added firmly, in response to a look of remonstrance from Cyril, “I -guess I mean just that.” -</p> - -<p> -“You needn’t think you’re going to make any sensational discoveries, -Hicks. We may suspect till all is blue, but the real movers in the -plot have covered up their traces too well to be brought to book.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, I sort of suspicioned that they weren’t taking any risks. But I’d -as lief know the way they fixed things up, Count, from that very -evening when you swam out of our ken, like a new kind of planet.” -</p> - -<p> -For a moment Cyril hesitated still. “It’s not the kind of story to -make a man altogether proud,” he said, “for whenever I was outwitting -our friends the enemy most completely, I seem to have been making it -easier for them to keep a tight hold on me. But you shall hear. Of -course our driver must have been drugged when we got to Klotsch that -evening, and it had probably been made worth the landlord’s while not -to be in too great a hurry to supply his place. At any rate, poor -Paschics and I walked on a good way, and at last, thinking that as we -had paid for the carriage, it was not much good doing the journey on -our own feet, sat down by the roadside to wait for it. I think it was -the first time in our joint lives that we were ever caught napping, -and we have paid dearly enough for it, both of us, Heaven knows! but -who would ever have anticipated danger on that straight piece of high -road? There were not even woods on each side—merely rocks, and those -stunted shrubs the goats eat. We were just beyond the turning which -leads to this road below you here, down into Dardania, sitting rather -high up on the bank so as to be out of the dust. Suddenly we were -seized from behind, and blindfolded with something thrown over our -heads. We hadn’t a chance to struggle. How many men there were against -us I don’t know, but they carried us off quite easily, and when they -took the cloak off my head again I was in a carriage, which must have -been waiting just out of sight in the side-road. There was a woman in -it—Tania Garanine, the Scythian actress—and when I saw her I knew -the true inwardness of the plot at once. She is a favourite tool of -Soudaroff’s; and the Princess of Dardania turned her on when she -wanted to keep her son from marrying Princess Emilia of Magnagrecia. -The young fellow was staunch, you know, which didn’t make the fair -Tania any more kindly disposed towards me, who had made up the match. -She looked quite radiant when I found myself opposite her in the -carriage, and made no bones about answering my questions. It was -desirable that I should be out of the way for a time, she told me, but -everything would be done to make the short seclusion as pleasant as -possible, and if I would give my word not to attempt to escape, I -should be allowed a considerable degree of freedom. Since my revolver -was gone, and my feet were fastened together, and my hands tied in -front of me, it seemed rather unnecessary to ask for my parole, and I -refused it promptly. She didn’t seem to mind, but the fellow who sat -beside me immediately poked the muzzle of a revolver into my neck, and -remarked that he would fire if I moved. There was another man -opposite, also with a revolver, and poor Paschics was at the bottom of -the carriage, apparently choking. I pointed out to the lady that if -she didn’t want him to die before her eyes, she had better have the -thing taken off his head, and she gave the order with a sweet smile, -as a personal favour to me, she said. Just at that moment we passed -another carriage—an elaborate old-fashioned affair with Dardanian -outriders—coming in the opposite direction, towards Europe, and the -man in it bowed very impressively to Mlle. Garanine.” -</p> - -<p> -“Prince Valerian Pelenko!” cried Mr Hicks. “Then I guess he told the -exact truth, after all, when he said he had seen you riding with that -lady, and on the best of terms with her.” -</p> - -<p> -“Probably, since he could not see the revolver, and the carriage-rug -was drawn up over my hands. Did—did my wife hear it?” -</p> - -<p> -“We all heard it, Count, but no one believed a word of it. To us it -was only one more attempt to take away your character.” -</p> - -<p> -“But she might have believed it!” cried Usk violently. “It might have -pained her most awfully. Why didn’t you cry out, Uncle Cyril, even if -you were shot the next moment? At least she would have known that -their whole story was a lie.” -</p> - -<p> -“Would she?” asked Cyril. “My dear Usk, do you think my enemies would -not have been able to arrange things so as to give her greater pain -still? As it happened, Prince Pelenko was able to do his part without -departing from the apparent truth, but do you think he would have -objected to go a little beyond it if necessary? Would it have been -much consolation to my wife to learn that I had shot myself, whether -accidentally or otherwise, when in Mlle. Garanine’s company? You may -say that it would have been no worse than to hear that I was in her -company living, but you must remember that I fully expected to be able -to escape with Paschics in two or three days at most. If I had thought -I should be a prisoner for more than three months!—well, I may tell -you that many and many a time I have wished I had called out as you -suggest, and taken the consequences.” -</p> - -<p> -“I think I hear them moving upstairs,” interrupted Usk, and he went to -the door and listened, but came back almost immediately, sitting down -at the table with the same gloomy face. -</p> - -<p> -“Go ahead, Count!” said Mr Hicks. “I want to know right now what -happened.” -</p> - -<p> -“Nothing happened for some time, except that Mlle. Garanine threw out -hints which were evidently intended to make me believe that I was -merely wanted out of the way for a day or two while a revolution was -carried through in Thracia. It was an ingenious idea, for, of course, -with Michael out of the kingdom, and most of the Ministers away at his -wedding, the time would have been well chosen, but I knew I must have -had some inkling of it if things had gone so far, and I was prepared -to believe anything rather than what she told me. I felt pretty -certain that it was the affairs of Palestine, and not of Thracia, -which were concerned, and that I was wanted out of the way for a good -deal longer than a day or two. I saw several ways in which they might -try to manage it, but I reserved my judgment until we stopped at that -accursed house down there——” he waved his hand towards the hill at -the back of the inn. “If you knew what it has been to be certain that -there were friends and safety within a mile of me, and yet to be -unable to take a step towards them——! I should like to tear that -house down stone by stone, and make it a desolation for ever——” -</p> - -<p> -“And bury Dr Gregorescu and his Dardanians under the ruins?” asked Mr -Hicks. -</p> - -<p> -“No,” said Cyril calmly. “That would be too good for them. That man -has made me twenty years older in these three months. I saw the whole -plot as soon as I was face to face with him and heard his name, and it -was the very worst of the alternatives I had imagined. You will wonder -how I knew. Well, I don’t think I am a coward generally. Hicks, you -and I have been in some tight places together; what do you say?” -</p> - -<p> -“No man less so, Count.” -</p> - -<p> -“Thanks. But there is one thing before which I am an abject coward, -and that is poison. Not ordinary poison—just going to sleep and not -waking up again—nor even the fancy kinds which twist you up into an -arch before they’ve done with you, but one particular kind of poison, -the thought of which used to give me the horrors whenever I let myself -remember it while I was in Thracia. Taken in small quantities, it -doesn’t destroy life, only the mind—takes away a man’s memory, leaves -him a sort of perpetual child, do you see? The knowledge of it is -hereditary in one family, but for generations it has been at the -service of the Scythian Government, and occasionally it has been -used—not too often, so as to awaken suspicion, but just to get rid -effectually of some troublesome person whose death might cause remark. -All those years when I was practically the only barrier between -Ernestine and Michael and a Scythian protectorate, I went in deadly -fear of this devilish stuff. Of course I took precautions. Paschics -and Dietrich were staunch, if all the rest of my household were -traitors, but there was always the danger of the thing’s being -administered in some one else’s house. I inquired secretly into the -subject, and got some interesting information by bribing disappointed -Secret Service agents, so that I had some faint idea of the nature and -properties of the drug. Then I had an exhaustive list made of the -members of the family that prepared it, and their various marriages, -so that if I found myself in the neighbourhood of any of them I might -be on my guard. In the last generation, one of the daughters married a -Dacian named Gregorescu. Now you see why I knew my fate as soon as I -heard the doctor’s name. He was at the house, waiting to receive me, -and Mlle. Garanine delivered me over to him in the most matter-of-fact -way. She herself returned into Dardania at once—on horseback, I -presume, for the carriage could not cross the mountains, and was laid -up in the Pelenko stables—and the two men with revolvers went with -her. But we were no better off for that. The house was guarded by a -small army of Dardanians, who kept watch day and night, though of -course I didn’t find this out at once. My idea was to disarm the -doctor’s suspicions by pretending to swallow whole the notion of the -Thracian plot, and I harped on the subject till late at night. I -pointed out that it could not possibly be successful, but that I would -make it worth his while if he would release me at once. I appealed to -his cupidity, his ambition, everything I could think of, and at last -he thought it advisable to pretend to yield. He would think it over, -and let me know in the morning, he said, and in any case I might be -sure my captivity should be as pleasant as he could make it. I had -refused supper, but would I drink a little glass of benedictine with -him to show there was no ill-feeling? This was what I had been -expecting, and I agreed at once, only thankful he had chosen liqueur -and not coffee, which would have been much more difficult to manage. -The benedictine looked just as usual, except that I could just -distinguish a very slight—almost imperceptible—cloudiness about the -glass at my end of the tray.” -</p> - -<p> -“But why not have taken the other, and so forced on an explanation?” -demanded Usk, who had become interested in the recital in spite of -himself. -</p> - -<p> -“Because that was what I particularly wished not to do. My idea was to -make Gregorescu think I had taken the poison, and so gull him into -keeping a less strict watch on me. He would not venture to repeat the -experiment unless he was quite sure I had tricked him, for a second -dose would kill any man living, and I was pretty certain they did not -want me to die on their hands. For one thing, it would look bad if the -matter came out; for another, it would spoil the full effect of the -Princess of Dardania’s revenge. So I took up the glass and sipped it -quite calmly, to all appearance—only, instead of swallowing any of -the liqueur, I poured it down my sleeve a drop at a time, by a turn of -the wrist, when I raised the glass to my lips. He did not dare to -watch me very closely while I drank, lest I should suspect something, -and I am thankful to say my nerve lasted until the glass was empty. I -thought then it was about the stiffest piece of acting I had ever been -driven to. If I had known that I had to carry it on for three months! -Afterwards I spoke a little thickly, and let him help me to my room. -He was watching for the symptoms, and was quite satisfied, but early -in the morning he very nearly had me. Poor Paschics, of course, knew -nothing of the whole affair. He was imprisoned somewhere by himself, -but in the morning they left his door open, and he crept along the -passage to find me. I saw him standing over me with his finger on his -lips when I woke, and I was just going to explain things to him when -it struck me that his being allowed to be there was suspicious, and I -pretended not to know him. It was heartbreaking to see the state he -was in, but I persisted, and it was well I did, for Gregorescu was -spying on us the whole time. I found out his spy-hole afterwards. He -thought it was all right then, and came and had poor Paschics taken -away, apologising to me for his intrusion. I looked as puzzled as I -could, and when I got up did my best to make it clear that my mind was -a blank—that I did not know Gregorescu himself, or where I was, or -who I was, or anything that had happened. For the first day or two he -used to try to catch me out, starting subjects suddenly, or asking -questions, and it’s just a chance that the strain didn’t make me as -mad as he thought I was. But when he felt pretty sure of the vacuum, -he began to fill it after a fashion by suggestion. I was Prince -Shishman Pelenko, and I was gradually fitted with a past to match the -name—all hinted most carefully, and wedged into my mind, so to speak, -by leading questions. It was horribly cleverly done, and when -Gregorescu thought his work was complete, he had it inspected—by -Prince Soudaroff himself. It was a good thing that I had had fair -practice in guile by that time, or I could never have held out, but I -baffled even him. He also went away quite satisfied——” -</p> - -<p> -“And met us on the hill here, and told us a whole lot of lies about -Shishman Pelenko,” said Usk savagely. -</p> - -<p> -“Well,” said Mr Hicks, with some complacency, “I guess the champion -liar of Europe had met his match that time, any way.” -</p> - -<p> -“Thanks for the compliment!” said Cyril. “I believe now that his -perfect satisfaction with what he had seen and heard must have made -him less clear-sighted with regard to what was going on in Neustria. -He thought that with me helpless and in safe custody he had nipped the -Palestine scheme in the bud, but no doubt he intended to make things -safe after a while by opening negotiations with Ernestine and -Goldberg, and handing me over, as a hopeless idiot, in exchange for a -promise that the existing state of affairs at Jerusalem should remain -undisturbed. It has been about the only consolation I have had, to -think that the real scheme would go on all the better because -Soudaroff was congratulating himself on having put a stop to the bogus -one. But I needed the consolation, for it was just about that time -that I lost poor Paschics. We had been kept so strictly apart that I -had never had a chance of conferring with him or explaining matters, -but he seems to have had some idea that I was only shamming madness. -At any rate, one night, when there was a tremendous thunderstorm, I -found him by my bed again. He did not utter a sound, simply took my -hand in the darkness, and talked on it in the deaf-and-dumb alphabet. -He said he believed he could escape under cover of the storm, for the -Dardanians were all in a lively state of funk, taking shelter wherever -they could, and he would bring back help and release me. I asked him -in the same way why I should not come too, but he told me that the -usual man—a rascally French-speaking Greek who posed as my personal -attendant—was on guard at my door, and had only let him pass when he -gave him all the money he had, under the pretext that I was always -afraid of thunder. In fact, I saw the fellow inside the room by the -next flash of lightning, listening jealously, but as he only saw -Paschics holding my hand, he got nothing to tell his master. Well, as -soon as the storm became less severe, Paschics departed, and the next -thing I heard was that he was dead.” -</p> - -<p> -“And was he murdered?” asked Usk quickly. -</p> - -<p> -“I believe not. As far as I could make out, he was trying to escape -along the roof, intending to climb down one of the trees which grew -near the end of the house, when Gregorescu discovered his absence and -turned out the Dardanians. When he saw they were after him, he turned -off to the edge of the roof, intending to drop from it to the back -verandah, and so to the ground; but the parapet was rotten all along, -and a great piece of it fell with him. He struggled up and threw -himself over the edge of the verandah, and actually ran a few steps; -then they saw him give a convulsive leap and fall to the ground. When -they got to him he was dead. The shock and the fall together were too -much for him, after the excitement and anxiety of the past weeks. That -was Gregorescu’s account, and I have no reason to doubt it.” -</p> - -<p> -“No; it’s in accordance with the medical evidence,” said Mr Hicks. -“Death due to shock, bruises inflicted before death; that was all.” -</p> - -<p> -“But it doesn’t explain our finding the body in the river,” said Usk. -</p> - -<p> -“That was to throw you off the scent,” said Cyril quickly. “Didn’t you -all go off to some place on the Mœsian frontier, miles away, to see -whether I was in that neighbourhood? But you didn’t rise to the -occasion as they hoped. You were quite expected to leave Drinitza, and -take up your quarters at Bagnanera.” -</p> - -<p> -“Then you heard something of our movements?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh yes; they talked quite openly before me, at first to try and catch -me off my guard, and afterwards, when they were quite sure the drug -had taken effect, because there was no reason why they shouldn’t. They -had one more try to make me betray myself when they found Paschics was -dead, telling me of it suddenly, and I had to affect ignorance and -mystification, and go through the whole sickening show over again. It -was so long before Gregorescu was really convinced of my madness that -I suppose, in spite of all my care, I must have failed in some points, -but he seems to have satisfied himself at last that it was more likely -the drug should produce slightly different effects on different people -than that a man should carry on such a deception for so long. Then -came the news of the Neustrian revolution and Malasorte’s -dictatorship, and Soudaroff must have seen immediately that his plans -for making use of me were foiled. In a sense, all that had been done -was useless, except as a matter of personal revenge, and he could not -hope to do any successful trading with me in the future, since his -Emperor had gone behind him and was in league with Malasorte, and -Malasorte was in league with the Jews. I gathered that the plan now -was to smuggle me into Pannonia and leave me in a lunatic asylum -there, to be discovered or not by my friends, as circumstances might -determine——” -</p> - -<p> -“No, sir,” said Mr Hicks quickly; “you were to be discovered. Mlle. -Garanine took the trouble to come here on purpose to give the plan -away to us.” -</p> - -<p> -“That was to get us out of the way, as I said at the time,” remarked -Usk. “We were keeping too strict a watch on the neighbourhood to -please them.” -</p> - -<p> -“No doubt,” said Cyril; “and we must also remember that nothing would -satisfy the Princess of Dardania but to restore to my wife a husband -who could not even recognise her. The woman’s malice had to be -consulted as well as Soudaroff’s statecraft, you see. Well, you may -imagine my state of feeling, with such a prospect before me—a pauper -lunatic asylum, from which I might or might not be released before I -was driven really mad. Then there came poor Helene’s sudden -incursion.” Usk moved restlessly. “It was almost more than I could do -to keep up my pretence of not recognising her; but if I hadn’t done -it, I don’t believe she would have got away alive. As it was, I saw -her to the gate myself, and watched her out of sight, for those -bloodthirsty Dardanians were capable of anything, but I had disarmed -their suspicions so completely by that time that they all obeyed me in -ordinary matters as if I had really been Shishman Pelenko himself. But -Gregorescu was not going to risk Helene’s bringing back help. The last -thing he wished was to be caught on Pannonian soil, and to be -identified with my disappearance, so we prepared for a flitting at -once. The idea which he had so carefully ‘suggested’ to me, that my -life was in danger from unknown enemies, was worked again, and I was -warned I must escape at once. And I had to fall in with it, for I -couldn’t throw off the mask until help was actually at hand. When I -saw Helene again, alone, hiding in the bushes, just as we were -starting, I almost lost hope, for I couldn’t make her understand what -I wanted, and I could only trust no one else had seen her. If they -hadn’t found out who she was since the morning, by sending a spy to -track her back here, I haven’t a doubt she would have been killed, but -they were afraid of meddling with her further than by sending an old -woman to guide her astray while we got off.” -</p> - -<p> -“But how did you get off, any way, and what happened to the carriage, -Count?” cried Mr Hicks. -</p> - -<p> -“The carriage simply drove out of the gates and into the wood, where -it was left, while we went on with the horses alone,” answered Cyril. -“After your visit to the house the next day, it was restored to its -usual place, but when you were wondering which way it could have gone -without being seen, it was hidden in a thicket quite close to you. And -ourselves? Oh, we crossed the road and plunged into the hills on the -opposite side, and so made our way round by mountain-paths to the -house above the village, which Gregorescu had had in his eye for some -time in case he found it necessary to take the bull by the horns and -negotiate for my surrender instead of dumping me down in Pannonia. You -see, it was on Dardanian soil, and he knew you could not touch him -without a long diplomatic difficulty which would involve just what you -didn’t want—waste of time. You know how he worked the thing through -the mate of Queen Félicia’s yacht, and you know, Hicks, how very -close the shave was at last. I don’t know quite how I gave myself away -in that interview this morning—or yesterday morning now—my nerve is -not what it was, and my face may have shown what I was feeling, or -perhaps he merely put two and two together, but I swear I solemnly -believe that if I had been in his power for another day, he would have -forced me to take another dose of his drug, in some way that I could -not evade. Even as it was, I was in terror lest he should do it before -you came back, but he thought he had a week before him, and he didn’t -know I had seen what was in his mind. You were only just in time, Usk, -but I would rather you had been too late than that this should have -happened.” -</p> - -<p> -“It can’t be helped,” groaned Usk. “Oh, what are they doing with her -all this time? Can she be dead, and they haven’t told me?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, no,” said Mr Hicks. “They had a lot to do, and I guess no news is -good news. If you could sleep a little, now——?” -</p> - -<p> -A mute gesture of refusal from Usk answered him, and they waited on, -until at last the door of the room upstairs was heard to open. Usk met -the doctor half-way up the stairs. “Well?” he gasped. “How is she?” -</p> - -<p> -The doctor, who was a German and disapproved of misalliances, looked -him over severely before answering. “There is no sign of -consciousness,” he replied slowly. “It would be as well to summon her -Highness’s august parents as soon as possible, and there is a -specialist at Vindobona I should be glad to have at hand. It is not -likely he could suggest anything, but it is always a comfort to the -patient’s friends to feel that everything possible has been done.” -</p> - -<p> -<br/> -</p> - -<p> -The Grand-Duke and Duchess came from Molzau, Queen Ernestine from her -sick-bed at Vindobona, Lord and Lady Caerleon from Geneva, where they -had just laid in the grave the exiled Pauline Vassilievna, who had -been more than a mother to Lady Caerleon. Never had the little inn at -Drinitza been so full, or entertained such important guests, but the -old landlord felt no desire to congratulate himself. The “little -Princess” had won every heart during her stay, and now, to all -appearance, she was dying. When her parents first arrived, she seemed -to recognise them—Usk was certain that she did—but she relapsed -immediately into a state in which she appeared to be conscious of -nothing but pain. As if it had not been agony enough to see her -suffer, Usk found very soon that the blame was supposed to be his. The -Grand-Duchess could not forgive either him or Cyril for the accident. -At least, she said resentfully, she thought she was securing a kind -and thoughtful husband for her Lenchen when she gave her to him, but -he had gone and sacrificed her to his uncle before they had been four -months married. She would have kept him out of the sick-room -altogether if she could, and when he insisted on taking part in the -nursing, mounted guard over him the whole time to make sure that he -did not disturb Helene by speaking to her. If Usk’s heart had not been -very sore, and a good deal troubled by remorse, for which no one but -himself and the Grand-Duchess could see any reason, he would have -rebelled; but he could not engage in a squabble over his wife’s -unconscious form, and his imperious mother-in-law rode roughshod over -him. To his astonishment, it was the Grand-Duke who took his part. He -also was banished from the sick-room, and he did not venture to -dispute his wife’s decision, but he made friends with Usk in a rough -kind of way, and they would take long walks together almost in -silence, finding a fellow-feeling in their common grief. The -Grand-Duchess, in a fury of maternal anxiety so vehement as almost to -be ludicrous, made no secret of the fact that she would have preferred -to be left with only Queen Ernestine and Lady Caerleon to share her -labours. True, she bore a grudge against the Queen because she was -Cyril’s wife, but she credited her with a genuine interest in Helene, -which she denied to any of the men. They could talk of politics, she -said with scorn, when Lenchen lay dying. The accusation had some -colour, unreasonable though it sounded. The question of the relations -between Michael and Félicia had reached an acute stage, and must -speedily become common property if no solution could be devised for -it. -</p> - -<p> -Up to this point, chiefly by the assiduous efforts of Baroness -Radnika, the fiction that Félicia was merely taking a short cruise, -and that her husband had not found time to join her, had been kept up. -Even the Pannonian Court had been willing to account for anything that -seemed strange in the arrangement by remembering Félicia’s American -education, but she had no mind to leave things in this state. When the -Grand-Duke and Duchess paid her a hurried visit on board the yacht on -their way to Drinitza, she told them the facts of the case with the -greatest frankness, and refused to hear of a reconciliation. A -separation she wanted, and a separation she would have, and the -Grand-Duke saw no way of avoiding a scandal. He took counsel with -Cyril and Mr Hicks (these conversations it was which aroused the -Grand-Duchess’s ire), and they beat their brains for some means of -bringing Félicia back to Bellaviste. King Michael was far from -implacable. He admired Félicia intensely, and was really as much in -love with her as it was possible to him to be, and he had the grace to -be heartily ashamed of his own part in the dispute. He saw it now -through Félicia’s eyes, and admired her secretly for resenting his -conduct, and he was also painfully alive to the ridicule that would -descend upon him if it came out that he had driven away his three -months’ bride by his groundless jealousy. He was willing to make -promises and concessions for the future, but Félicia opposed a simple -negative to all his proposals. Once more Cyril became the natural -go-between, and travelled first to Bellaviste to interview the King, -and then across the peninsula to Paranati to try to influence -Félicia, but all in vain. -</p> - -<p> -These journeys were not undertaken without strong remonstrance from -Queen Ernestine, who never saw her husband depart without fearing that -his enemies might contrive to get him again into their power. But he -never travelled without either the Grand-Duke, Mr Hicks, or Lord -Caerleon, and two or three armed servants, and with such precautions -it was not likely that he would now incur danger. Dr Gregorescu had -prudently disappeared, and his Dardanians were merged again in the -general mass of their fellow-countrymen. It was in the highest degree -unlikely that either Prince Soudaroff or the Princess of Dardania -would attempt any further hostile move, when the victim was able to -recount the whole history of the one that had just failed, although he -had not at present chosen to make it public. Moreover, the political -reasons which had induced the Scythian Chancellor to join in the plot -existed no longer, and he recognised that he had been cleverly led -aside by a false clue. Before the Emperor Timoleon V. had sat for a -month upon the throne of Neustria, the world was startled by a -rescript issued jointly by himself and his brother monarch of Scythia. -From this document it appeared that the Scythian troops which had for -three years occupied Jerusalem would be withdrawn immediately, and the -city handed over to the representatives of the Jewish provisional -government which had sat during that period at Nablus. Palestine would -be neutralised, and the Jewish State guaranteed in its independence -and privileges (nothing being said of the shadowy suzerainty of Roum) -by Neustria, Scythia, and the United States of America. -</p> - -<p> -There was little real opposition to the measure. The new alliance was -immensely formidable, besides representing roughly the three Christian -creeds which were wont to battle over the sacred soil. England had -lost her opportunity of protesting when she acquiesced in the Scythian -occupation of Jerusalem three years before, and Hercynia was quieted -by receiving compensation elsewhere, as usual at the expense of Roum. -There was a wild outcry from the mass of the poorer Jews that no -provision was made for appointing a Prince of Palestine, but Cyril -made it known that he should refuse to be nominated even if the post -were constituted. As he had said, the agony of his captivity had made -him an old man all at once, and he felt no temptation to mingle any -longer in politics. It was typical of the change wrought in the man by -the disastrous result of his last experience of the political arena, -that he now desired nothing more than to return with his wife to the -oasis in the Syrian desert, within whose narrow limits he had so often -chafed, and there end his days in quietness. -</p> - -<p> -And in the mean time, while the two Emperors were reorganising the map -of the world, and Félicia was reiterating her undying defiance of her -husband, Helene still lay unconscious in the inn at Drinitza. The -agonies of pain had passed, but she did not recover. She had not -sufficient vitality, the doctors said, to rally from the shock and the -long suffering, and it was not unlikely that her life would flicker -out without so much as a return to consciousness. -</p> - - -<h3 id="ch24"> -CHAPTER XXIV.<br/> -<span class="chap_sub"><i>RISORGIMENTO.</i></span> -</h3> - -<p class="noindent"> -<span class="sc">As</span> to Helene herself, the days and weeks passed by without her -knowledge. Once only since the accident had she waked to a brief -interval of full consciousness, and that was when the old home voices -first penetrated her dulled ear. Her father and mother were in the -room as well as Usk, and she lay looking at them without their -perceiving it, making no attempt to speak. But when the Grand-Duchess -broke down and wept stormily, crying out to Usk, “You stole her away -from us, and this is the way you take care of her!” the injustice of -the speech moved her to protest. She tried to speak, but no words -would come, and though Usk met her anguished eyes, and nodded -reassuringly at her, she could not vindicate him. She saw her father -lay his hand upon his shoulder, as though he felt he was unjustly -accused, but the Grand-Duchess was evidently implacable. Helene still -struggled to speak, but the effort was too great, and she relapsed -into immobility, which yet was not complete unconsciousness, for she -was very conscious of pain, although the outer world was a blank to -her. To herself she seemed to be borne and buffeted on a sea of pain; -she sounded its lowest depths, and was carried up to the height of its -hugest waves. There was the pain which attacked her in a succession of -violent shocks, like billows breaking over a helpless shipwrecked man -on a rocky shore, and swept her away at last into such agony that she -was forced to scream; and the pain which crept upwards slowly and -gradually, like a gently rising tide, until her whole frame seemed -nothing but one dull, paralysing ache, and all kinds and degrees of -pain between these two extremes. She battled against this sea, she -thought, although in some strange way the sound of the breakers and -the throb of the rising waves was inside her head and not outside, as -though she was playing the traitor to herself, but it attacked her -persistently in fresh ways, and she felt that it must prove the -stronger at last. But just when her strength was altogether at an end, -and she knew that she could struggle no longer, the necessity for -struggling ceased. There was no sea at all, either rough or smooth, -and she was drifting gently down a broad calm river. Sometimes she had -glimpses of scenes on the banks, sometimes she heard strange toneless -voices speaking loudly, although she could not distinguish what they -said, but she never saw any place or person or heard any voice that -she knew. Most often, although the sensation of floating continued, -the sights before her eyes were merely complicated patterns, endless -in diversity and colour, which melted one into another like those of a -kaleidoscope. It was very interesting to watch them, and she followed -their changes eagerly, drifting down the river all the time. -</p> - -<p> -There came disquieting interruptions to her enjoyment at last. Voices -called to her—not the unknown voices of her visions, but voices that -she knew—called to her earnestly, entreatingly, forcing themselves -upon her attention when she desired only to watch the moving patterns. -She felt a kind of resentment against these voices—a sort of -malicious satisfaction in the fact that she could not answer their -appeals, for there seemed to be a weight on her lips that kept them -from moving. If only the voices would leave her in peace! There they -were again, calling: “Lenchen, Lenchen! my little Lenchen! look at me, -speak to me!” Before her eyes was a dun expanse flecked by splashes of -colour that came and went, and against this background shadowy discs -and half-discs appeared vaguely, took definite shape, became flaming -and metallic, and vanished slowly away, as she watched them with -breathless interest. She could not answer the cry that reached her, -for the weight was still upon her lips, but it banished the vision, -and in its place she saw a curious patchwork of many shapes and -colours and patterns, something like the mosaic which industrious -persons construct with small pieces of broken china sunk in cement. -This also was interesting, although it had not the fascination of -those advancing and receding discs, and she was watching the mosaic -brighten and fade and re-group itself in new designs, when another -voice broke in upon the dream, and made it vanish in its turn. -</p> - -<p> -“Nell! Nell!” the voice cried, in tones of agony, and for the first -time Helene felt an impulse to answer. But the weight was still upon -her lips, and on the whole she was glad of it. Turning aside, as it -were, petulantly from the call, she set herself joyfully to the -contemplation of a myriad tiny bunches of pink-tipped daisies, -floating in an atmosphere of dark dull green, which appealed to her -almost more than all that had gone before. Nothing could be lovelier -than this. Would it stay? would the daisy-buds unfold, or would they -vanish into something else? Helene never knew, for into the midst of -her vision came another sound, clear and distinct, the sound of a sob, -before which the vision departed suddenly. She opened her eyes. There -seemed to be no one in the room, but the sound of another sob guided -her eyes to where Usk was kneeling beside the bed, his face hidden in -the coverlid. The sight awoke Helene to pity and concern at once. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, Nym!” she said, but her voice was the smallest, faintest -whisper, and when she tried to stretch out her hand to lay it on the -dark head just beyond her reach, she found that she could barely lift -a finger. Usk heard the whisper, however, and as he lifted his head -Helene had an odd feeling that the changes of which she had seen so -many in her dreams were still going on, for his face was convulsed -with pain when he raised it first, but as she looked at him she saw -that he was smiling at her. It was most perplexing, but she smiled -back at him, and then felt more perplexed still, for those warm drops -that fell on her hand as he kissed it were certainly tears. -</p> - -<p> -“Why, Nym!” she said again; and then suddenly, after a pause, “Nym, -are you crying because I am going to die?” -</p> - -<p> -“No—nonsense!—Of course not——” but his voice failed. -</p> - -<p> -“I am so glad,” said Helene, smiling radiantly, and Usk was cut to the -heart. Had it come to this, that he had so utterly failed to make her -happy that she was glad to die and leave him? But she was holding his -hand fast. -</p> - -<p> -“Sit beside me, Nym—close,” she said eagerly, though her voice was so -weak that he was obliged to lean over her to hear what she was saying, -“and hold my hand. Don’t let me drift down the river any more. If I -do, I shall drift away, I know. Speak to me, call out to me, if you -see me drifting, and hold my hand, so that you can pull me back.” -</p> - -<p> -“Are you afraid of going to sleep, dear?” -</p> - -<p> -“No. I should like to sleep, but it is the river. It is pleasant—oh, -so pleasant! but it will carry me away. Only you can keep me back, -Nym. Your voice has driven the visions away. I think I could sleep -safely if you put your arm round me, for I couldn’t drift then. You -won’t let me go, will you?” -</p> - -<p> -Not understanding in the least what she meant, and half inclined to -think that she was still delirious, Usk passed his left arm under her -head, still holding her right hand firmly in his own. Presently her -eyes closed, but almost immediately they opened once more as she -cried, “Oh, I was drifting again! Hold me, Nym; hold me!” -</p> - -<p> -“I have got you quite safe,” he answered, and at last she dropped -asleep. Usk, trying to change his cramped position without waking her, -happened to look towards the door, and saw the Grand-Duchess standing -there, beckoning imperiously to him to come away. He shook his head, -and tried to intimate that Helene must not be waked. His mother-in-law -crept up to the bed. -</p> - -<p> -“You have disturbed her!” she whispered angrily. “You have dared to -move her! You may have killed my poor child!” -</p> - -<p> -“No; I have saved her, I think,” Usk whispered back. “She asked me to -hold her.” -</p> - -<p> -“She asked you! She has spoken, then?” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes. She seemed pleased to find me here, and as long as she wants me -I shall stay.” He could not bring himself to mention the words which -had wounded him so sorely. He had taken his one small piece of revenge -on the Grand-Duchess for the reproaches she had heaped upon him, and -he would not put another weapon into her hand immediately. -</p> - -<p> -“And after all, she turns to you instead of to me!” said Helene’s -mother, desolately; and Usk forbore to say that he could not -conscientiously see any reason why she should not. He maintained his -position, despite cramp and stiffness, until Helene awoke, and -recognised her mother, and in the joy of that fact he and the -Grand-Duchess buried their enmity. It would be long before Helene -could return to her old active life,—there were weary months of pain -and languor before her; but at least she would not slip out of life -through sheer lack of interest in it, as she had been doing when Usk’s -voice recalled her. And yet, while the Grand-Duchess was unfeignedly -grateful for her daughter’s hope of recovery, and really glad she was -happy with her husband, a curious maternal jealousy made it impossible -for her ever to forget that it was Usk’s voice, and not her own, which -had brought Helene back from death. -</p> - -<p> -“Nym,” said Helene to her husband one day, in a puzzled tone, “why -does mamma think you are not kind to me?” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m sure I don’t know, unless you have told her so. I haven’t done -anything particularly brutal just lately, have I?” -</p> - -<p> -“Nym! as if I could be so wicked as to say things against you! But she -seems to think the accident was your fault, and I have told her over -and over again that it was mine for laying hold of the whip. And she -blames the dear Count too, and nothing I can say will put it right.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, perhaps you made shocking revelations in your delirium. I know -you nearly broke my heart one day by something you said.” -</p> - -<p> -“Something I said? What was it?” -</p> - -<p> -“You said you were glad to be going to die.” -</p> - -<p> -“I didn’t! I couldn’t! To leave you!” -</p> - -<p> -“I’ll take my oath of it. You asked me if that was why I was crying.” -</p> - -<p> -“Of course! I knew it! It was because you were crying that I was -glad—to think you were so sorry to lose me.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, this is startling and gratifying, I must say, after all my -heroic determination to make you glad that you were alive, after all.” -</p> - -<p> -“Did you determine to make me glad I was alive, Nym? What were you -going to do? Tell me.” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, I thought I would take you home—to England, I mean—by sea, -before the winter gales begin, and that we would stay at Llandiarmid -for a bit. I meant to get a low pony-carriage to drive you about in, -and I thought we would spend whole days in the woods as long as it was -warm enough. You don’t know what the Llandiarmid woods are in autumn, -Nell—how black the yew-trees look among the oaks and beeches on the -river-cliff, and how pretty the golden birches are against the Scotch -firs. And I thought we would take long drives, and stop at the -farmhouses, and the tenants’ wives would come out to be introduced to -you, and tell you what a wretch of a husband you had got hold of, and -ask if you wouldn’t have a sup of new milk to bring some colour into -your cheeks. And my mother would pet you, of course, and get so fond -of you that I should have to forbid your going into the village with -her, lest I should see nothing of you myself. And then perhaps you -might be well enough about the end of November to come up to -Southumberland with me, if the General Election was on then—not to -canvass, of course, but just to go about with me and attract votes by -looking so miserably pale, as if I ill-treated you, you know. That’s -just what I thought, you see.” -</p> - -<p> -“And now?” asked Helene breathlessly, smiling and flushing. -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, now it’s unnecessary, isn’t it?” -</p> - -<p> -“Couldn’t you pretend it was necessary, Nym?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, you like the programme, do you? Then we will pretend it’s -necessary, Nell. Every evening I shall ask you, ‘Are you glad yet that -you’re alive?’ and you will be hard-hearted, and say, ‘Not yet.’” -</p> - -<p> -“No, I shan’t,” said Helene, growing pink again. “I am glad because -you are—because you don’t repent. You don’t, do you?” -</p> - -<p> -“Repent what? Nell, don’t be a baby.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, I have made you angry!—but you know what I mean. You don’t mind -having married me instead of Félicia, do you? I just want to hear you -say it—only that.” -</p> - -<p> -“I’m not angry, but I should be if you were not such a child. Have I -deserved this, Nell? I can’t say that I have never thought of Félicia -since I married you, but I can say that I never think of her without -being thankful I didn’t marry her. And you have been treasuring up -that old piece of foolishness against me all this time!” -</p> - -<p> -“I haven’t! I haven’t! It came over me suddenly that I wanted to hear -you say it, though I knew it quite well. And I had a reason, Nym. You -don’t mind my not telling you what it is, do you? You will know very -soon. I want to ask Aunt Ernestine something first.” -</p> - -<p> -“Shall I ask her to come and see you?” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, please do. And you are not really angry, Nym?” -</p> - -<p> -“No, I am not. But it would serve you right if I said I was, you -little mischief-maker!” But Helene’s blissful smile did not look as -though the epithet troubled her. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, Lenchen darling?” asked the Queen as she came in; “what is it -you want me to do?” -</p> - -<p> -“It isn’t anything for myself,” said Helene, somewhat timidly. -“It’s—it’s just that I have been thinking so much about Michael and -Félicia, and I wondered why you didn’t go and speak to her yourself.” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, what good could I do, Lenchen? My husband has tried, your father -has tried, Mr Hicks has tried, and she won’t listen to any of them.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, I know. But you see, Aunt Ernestine, I don’t think they have any -of them taken her the right way. Papa tells her that she will create a -European scandal, and disgrace all her relations, and she doesn’t mind -that a bit. The dear Count reminds her that people will say horrid -things about her, and that she won’t be received at Vindobona, and she -rather glories in it. Mr Hicks tells her that her money is invested in -Thracia, and she may lose a good deal of it, and she says she doesn’t -care. When they told her even that the Thracian Legislature would -dissolve the marriage if she wouldn’t come back, she was startled at -first, but she only said she would chance it. Oh, I know exactly what -they would each say. I make mamma tell me all about it. But no one has -gone to her yet simply as a woman. There must be some way of reaching -her and working on her feelings, you know, and you are Michael’s -mother, you love them both—why don’t you do it?” -</p> - -<p> -“My little Lenchen, I am afraid I have only thought how wicked it was -of her to leave Michael, and it wouldn’t soften her much to hear -that.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, but you will think of her side of it too?” asked Helene -earnestly. “I think she must be terribly miserable all this time. Just -imagine if I had run away from Usk, how I should feel!” -</p> - -<p> -“I fear there isn’t much likeness between you and Félicia, Lenchen,” -said the Queen, kissing her. “But I have always intended to see what I -could do if all other means failed, and I will try now instead of -waiting any longer. And I will try to look at the matter from her -point of view.” -</p> - -<p> -Thus it was that when Cyril made his next journey across the mountains -to Paranati, his wife accompanied him. She was slightly nervous as to -her reception on board the Bluebird, for her conscience told her that -Helene’s words were true. In her horror at Félicia’s unheard-of -behaviour, she had forgotten to inquire whether Félicia might seem to -herself to have sufficient reason for it. What Cyril thought of her -sudden determination to go with him she did not know, for he refused -to discuss the situation with her, lest Félicia should suspect her of -having been primed by him. Maimie, who had come on shore to meet them, -looked at her keenly, but was equally reticent. Of her Queen Ernestine -was a little afraid, not knowing whether to regard her as Félicia’s -evil genius or as a moderating influence, and she did not like to -question her as to Félicia’s feelings. Félicia herself looked -thinner and a little worn, and the Queen wondered whether it was -<i>ennui</i> that was telling upon her, or a sense of her equivocal -position, as impressed upon her by Cyril and the Grand-Duke. She -rebuked herself immediately for lack of charity, and wondered why she -could not simply believe that Félicia really cared for Michael, and -was regretting the step she had taken. But this she found impossible, -which was a bad beginning to her mission. -</p> - -<p> -“Well,” said Félicia suddenly, when they were alone together, “why -are you come? I guess it wasn’t just for your health. Did Mr Hicks -send you?” -</p> - -<p> -“No; certainly not,” answered Queen Ernestine, taken aback by the tone -and accent of the question as much as by its drift, “but I should have -been very glad to come sooner if I had known you would like to see -me.” -</p> - -<p> -Félicia laughed scornfully. “Mr Hicks thought he would get you here -and have you talk me over, but I told him if he said a single word to -you I wouldn’t see you when you came. But why did you come, any way?” -</p> - -<p> -“It was not Mr Hicks who sent me. It was my niece Helene, Usk’s wife.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do tell! Is she so happy that she wants to see every one else happy -too?” -</p> - -<p> -“I think that was her feeling.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, it wasn’t because if I remained unattached I might attract her -husband away from her?” -</p> - -<p> -“I am quite certain she had no thought of the kind. She has no fear -for her husband, and she need have none.” The Queen spoke strongly, -for the suggestion had made her angry, but it occurred to her that -this was not a very propitious opening to the interview. She drew -nearer to her daughter-in-law. “Félicia,” she said, “you believe I -wish you well, don’t you? My only desire is to see you and Michael -living happily together. Do you feel it quite impossible”—she -hesitated a little over the form of the question—“to return to him.” -</p> - -<p> -“Quite,” answered Félicia calmly. “The insult was too great. He had -absolutely no excuse for his conduct.” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t want to palliate it, but—had he any reason to think you -would listen patiently if he spoke to you first? Was there such -confidence between you that his jealousy was palpably unreasonable?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know what you mean,” said Félicia, sitting up in her chair, -her eyes flashing. “If you are trying to shift the blame on to me——” -</p> - -<p> -“I am not, believe me. All I mean is that you and Michael together had -treated Usk very cruelly. Had Michael any guarantee that you would not -treat him in the same way if you could?” -</p> - -<p> -“I don’t know,” with a superb gesture of disdain. “I just expect to be -trusted without any question of guarantees. Your son has had to learn -that, and I guess the world will know it too before long.” -</p> - -<p> -“But, Félicia, you must make allowances for Michael. I don’t defend -his action, but will you not forgive it? I believe he really loves -you, and I think he must have had some idea of satisfying his mind -without entering on a disagreeable subject with you.” -</p> - -<p> -“But he broke open my bureau to read my letters,” Félicia persisted. -</p> - -<p> -“I know—but he has been punished for it. And he is anxious for your -forgiveness, and has done all he could to shield your name.” -</p> - -<p> -“Oh, that’s the Baroness’s doing,” said Félicia lazily. -</p> - -<p> -“You make it very hard for me to plead for him. Surely, Félicia, you -must have a little kindness left for him—the man you promised to love -and honour?” -</p> - -<p> -“I thought it was generally understood that those promises were made -because one couldn’t get married without them,” said Félicia. “How -has he kept his?” -</p> - -<p> -“You must have some slight feeling for him, or you could not be so -bitter. See, Félicia, I am his mother, and for his sake I lay aside -my pride, and entreat you to forgive him. It is well that he should -know how a woman regards such an insult as he offered you; but what -will be the effect on him if his penitence brings him no pardon? You -have a great opportunity before you now. He admires you, loves you, -feels that he has misjudged you shamefully. If you return to him, you -may exert such an influence over him as may change his whole -character. I don’t mean that he will ever be a husband on whose -strength you can lean, but if you choose to—to fascinate him, as you -can fascinate any man if you will, you may be of the greatest service -both to him and the kingdom——” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes; it’s all right for Michael and the kingdom, but where do I come -in?” cried Félicia shrilly. “I want to have a good time.” -</p> - -<p> -“I think that is what you have always aimed at,” suggested Queen -Ernestine, with unintentional irony, “and it has never yet——” -</p> - -<p> -“Materialised,” supplied Félicia. “That is so, but I don’t expect now -to find it in a little no-account State way back in the Balkans.” -</p> - -<p> -“Perhaps if you don’t think so much about the good time it will be -more likely to come to you. Think of your duty, instead, both as wife -and as queen. Ah, Félicia, you can do so much for the kingdom. I -tried, and failed. For the sake of the kingdom, I put aside my life’s -happiness for thirteen years—and at the end of those years it seemed -that I had lost it for ever. I don’t pretend that I made the sacrifice -with a good grace—my husband could tell you quite the contrary—but -at least I tried. You have none of my disadvantages. I was much -younger than you are, and very soon made myself unpopular by listening -to unwise advice, and I was foolishly jealous of the king’s wisest and -most trusted adviser. You are beautiful, rich, fascinating, and you -are not afraid of taking your own line. I think you have a shrewd -adviser in Miss Logan. I know you have a faithful one in Baroness -Radnika——” -</p> - -<p> -“I guess you don’t know that Maimie and I don’t speak now,” -interrupted Félicia. “We’ve quarrelled about this. She would like to -have me accept Michael’s apology, and go right back.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you have quarrelled with her? Oh, Félicia, she may have given -you unwise advice at other times, but she is right now. I looked -forward to your doing so much in Thracia in raising the condition of -the women. They are so despised, so badly treated by the men—almost -as badly as the Roumi women. And if the men take your doings as a -sample of what is to be expected from civilised womanhood——” -</p> - -<p> -“It will put back the clock in the Balkans a century at least?” -suggested Félicia. “And to prevent that you’d have me take Michael -back into favour?” -</p> - -<p> -“No,” said the Queen, wincing slightly, “to prevent your both leading -soured, loveless lives apart from each other, always in search of -pleasure and never finding it. If Michael were not penitent, I would -not ask you to return to him. But you will understand each other -better, you will grow nearer to each other after this separation, will -you not?” -</p> - -<p> -“I guess Michael will understand me better, any way. But I don’t -incline to go nearer to him than now—not much!” -</p> - -<p> -“Félicia!” cried Queen Ernestine, in bitter disappointment, “is there -nothing that will move you? Have you no regard for any one or -anything?” -</p> - -<p> -“That I have,—a real strong regard for one woman that no other person -seems to think of at all. All of you come and talk to me about the -kingdom, and Michael, and my own august relations, and political -exigencies, and you yourself try to work upon my feelings for -everything all round, but I myself count for just nothing. I have to -watch out for my own interests, and I mean to do it. There isn’t one -of you cares a cent for me——” -</p> - -<p> -“Indeed we do, Félicia,” protested her mother-in-law feebly. -</p> - -<p> -“As Michael’s recalcitrant wife, maybe—not for myself. But I have one -adviser that’s shrewd enough, as you say, and she don’t care a cent -for any of you—just for me alone, though I was awfully ugly to her -last time we spoke, and if I listen to any one, it’ll be to her. -Maime,” she raised her voice, “come right in. I didn’t feel like -listening to you last time we talked, but now you may just state what -you think. What good would it do me to go back to Michael?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, just this,” said Maimie promptly, advancing into the cabin, and -speaking with entire disregard of Queen Ernestine and her feelings, -“you’ve staked out your claim, and you’ve got to work it.” -</p> - -<p> -“You had me do it,” objected Félicia. -</p> - -<p> -“And if I did, I’ll help you see the thing through. It’s not what you -expected, maybe, but it’s payable gold, and you won’t do better any -other place.” -</p> - -<p> -“Now that’s what I don’t see.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, just listen. Put it you act the way you want to, and go right -back to the States. Michael will get a divorce, and you’ll have to -stick over there, for you won’t be received at any Court in Europe.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well, I guess America’s good enough for me,” but the tone was less -resolute. Maimie seized upon the hint of wavering. -</p> - -<p> -“<i>Is</i> that so? How will you feel to go back to old times after what -you’ve got accustomed to these days? Félicia Steinherz, you can’t do -it. Just at present you’re a queen, whatever that’s worth, and I’d -advise you stick to the position. Maybe you’ll choose to do all of the -nice things you’ve been hearing about, maybe not, but any way, you’re -much more likely to have a good time than if you take your -separation.” -</p> - -<p> -“Well,” said Félicia meditatively, “that is so. I’ll go back to -Bellaviste right away.” -</p> - -<p> -“Now? at once?” cried Queen Ernestine, bewildered by this sudden -success. “But not quite so suddenly,” she pleaded, after a moment’s -astonished pause. “It would excite remark, and deprive Michael of the -pleasure he would feel in coming to welcome you. Come back with us to -Drinitza, and let him meet you there.” -</p> - -<p> -“I guess I will. I’d like to meet that little Helene of yours, too, -and have her see what a happy couple Michael and I are.” -</p> - -<p> -“Félicia, you will not go back to him in this spirit? What possible -hope of future happiness can there be——?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why, just this. Your son has had his lesson, and unless he’s a fool -he won’t need any more. If he does, the Bluebird will be on hand yet.” -</p> - -<p> -“I hoped you might be going to yield to his wishes in the matter of -the yacht. It would be a very graceful concession, and he could not -help being touched by it. It would show your confidence in him——” -</p> - -<p> -“Confidence?” repeated Félicia. “I don’t confide in him worth a cent. -You say he can’t trust me because I tricked Usk? Well, he helped me do -it, so I can’t trust him. I shall continue to run the Bluebird myself, -and I’ll have Mr Hicks get a relief crew ready for me when this one -wants to go home. And after all, you can just take it from me that -this will be the best thing for Michael too. He would trample on a -woman that couldn’t defend herself, but one who’s as strong as he is -he will respect. And I guess I’ll have him know that he can’t trample -on me.” -</p> - -<p> -<br/> -</p> - -<p> -A few weeks later, and the gathering at Drinitza had dispersed to the -four winds of heaven. The Grand-Duke and Duchess had returned to -Molzau, and Michael and Félicia to Bellaviste. Lord and Lady Caerleon -were on their way to Pavelsburg, where they were to meet Prince -Soudaroff (purely on a business footing) and arrange with him for the -fulfilment of his sister-in-law’s dying wishes; and Usk and Helene, -with their diminished retinue, were on board a leisurely, -old-fashioned steamer, which was supposed to be likely to reach -England before the end of the year. Cyril and his wife were at -Trieste, whence they intended to sail for Syria, but before leaving -they were to meet the Chevalier Goldberg, who had entreated them -mysteriously not to sail before seeing something that he had to show -them. They drove down to a wharf belonging to a private firm, at which -a large steamer was loading, and here the Chevalier met them, joyful, -alert, elated, almost inspired. -</p> - -<p> -“Well, Chevalier, and where is this wonderful sight?” asked Cyril, -looking round at the crates and boxes which were ready to be shipped. -At present, what looked like a number of huge blocks of stone were -being swung on board. -</p> - -<p> -“Dis iss it,” was the proud reply, as the Chevalier waved his hand to -include all the bustle around, “de crown off your worrk, Count—de -consummation off de freeink off Issrael.” -</p> - -<p> -“But what are all these things? and what are they for?” -</p> - -<p> -“Dey are de stones off de Temple which iss to be built in de Holy -City.” -</p> - -<p> -“You are actually going to rebuild the Temple! Why, you never told -me.” -</p> - -<p> -“It wass a secret hope, not to be told efen to de Chentile det hed -done so much for Zion. But de stones hef been preparink for a -cheneration, maybe lonker. See, here are de great blocks off marble -for buildink—all squared and dressed, so det dere may be no sound off -iron on de sacred site. Dere iss only one small part off dem on board -dis ship; oders will follow. In dese boxes and cases are many oder -thinks—rare marble off many colours for de linink off de walls, -carfed by de greatest artists, wonderful metal-work, mosaic off -precious stones, holy fessels off golt and silfer, embroideries such -ess queens and sultans might lonk for in fain. All dose det are -wise-hearted hef gifen, men and women alike—de poor woman her silfer -clasp, de rich woman her diamonts. De glory off dis letter House shell -be greater den any since de first.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you mean literally to revive the Temple ritual and everything -connected with it?” -</p> - -<p> -“Why not? We hef de priests, de sons off Aaron, we hef de secrifices -in abundance, we hef de silfer and de golt, we hef at last de right to -our own land. How could we dare delay, lest punishment come upon us -for our sleckness?” -</p> - -<p> -Cyril shook his head. “You are frightfully ill-advised,” he said. “A -temple, with sacrifices and all the other accompaniments of ancient -Jewish worship, in the very midst of the holy places of Christendom, -will revolt the world. It will unite all your enemies against you, and -give them a tremendous power for mischief.” -</p> - -<p> -“How long hef we been refolted by de idols set up in de midst off our -holy places? Let de Chentiles taste a little off de treatment dey hef -gifen us. We are not afraid off what dey can do. We hef our rights -guaranteed to us by de man raised up to help us. We are not dependent -on de goodwill off Christendom.” -</p> - -<p> -“You would find it safer to be dependent upon a number of powers than -on one despot. Their mutual jealousies might hinder their uniting -against you, but he has only himself to please.” -</p> - -<p> -“Gif us only our guaranteed sefen years, and we shell be too stronk -for any despot on earth to attack us.” -</p> - -<p> -“Only seven years? I didn’t know your guarantee was limited. Well, if -Malasorte leaves you undisturbed for the full seven years, he is not -the man I think him.” -</p> - -<p> -“Count! Count! after all your noble worrk for our great cause, are you -become a prophet off efil against us?” -</p> - -<p> -“<i>Buona sorte, mala fede</i>,” quoted Cyril. “Even supposing that -Timoleon V. has the best will in the world towards you, he has to -think of his other friends. The Vatican and the Jesuits have got -nothing yet for their support, and you think it a good opportunity to -outrage their tenderest susceptibilities and exhibit an alien -religion, possessing immense wealth, established at Jerusalem!” -</p> - -<p> -“But why should det signify to dem?” -</p> - -<p> -“Need you ask? Well, my wife and sister-in-law would probably be able -to tell you, from the study of prophecy, the exact year or day you may -expect the explosion, but I, as a practical man, will merely say that -I shall be very much surprised if you are still at Jerusalem when your -seven years are over. The Pope may be established there, and your -temple turned into a second St Peter’s, for all I can say.” -</p> - -<p> -“Ah, we shell worrk wid de Orthodox against dem.” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t be too sure. Neustria and Scythia united against us three years -ago, you know. The two Emperors are very friendly, and there is time -for their respective Churches to become friendly too. Well, there will -always be a welcome for you at Sitt Zeynab, Chevalier, if you are -driven out.” -</p> - -<p> -“Nefer! nefer! Wid all Issrael, I will die fightink in de Temple -courts before Yerushalem shell fall again into de hends off de -Chentiles. No, Count, we hef receifed our punishment, efen double, for -all our sins. You hef lost your name. De Keptifity iss ofer for efer.” -</p> - -<p> -He bowed them off the wharf, and returned to his self-imposed task of -superintending the loading of the ship, as if opposition had made him -only the more determined to go on with it. Cyril and his wife walked -some way in silence, and when he spoke, it was not of the Chevalier or -his scheme. -</p> - -<p> -“When we left Sitt Zeynab, I little thought I should be glad to return -to it,” he said at last. -</p> - -<p> -“I know; you have always felt you were in exile there. But to me it is -a haven of peace. I can’t feel that you are safe anywhere else.” -</p> - -<p> -“Do you know, Ernestine, that when we left it last winter I was -brimming over with ambition, though I didn’t say so to you? I had an -idea that my old powers might return if I plunged suddenly into the -midst of the old life.” -</p> - -<p> -“Yes, I thought so when you were so determined to answer Michael’s -appeal for your help in person.” -</p> - -<p> -“And you never said so? Wise woman! Well, here I am returning meekly, -quite shorn of my aspirations. Michael is safely married, but to the -very last person we should have thought of for him then. Usk is -married too, not at all to the girl who seemed obviously suitable. The -Thracian finances are placed on a sound footing, but thanks far more -to Félicia’s money than to any skill of mine. Scythia is out of -Palestine, but Malasorte’s the friend, not Mortimer. And as for -myself, instead of juggling with crowns, I am thankful to be rescued -from a lunatic asylum. I not only did no good, but gave a great deal -of trouble to other people. In future we will take our politics -quietly, looking on at them from a distance.” -</p> - -<p> -“And living happily among our own people, doing what we can for them. -You think you can be happy, Cyril?” -</p> - -<p> -“Don’t ask me to make rash declarations. At least I can say that, in -view of ending my days at Sitt Zeynab, I am—content.” -</p> - -<p class="end"> -THE END. -</p> - -<h2> -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES. -</h2> - -<p> -Sydney C. Grier was the pseudonym of Hilda Caroline Gregg. -</p> - -<p> -This book is part of the author’s “Balkan Series.” The full series, in -order, being: -</p> - -<div class="quote_o"><div class="quote_i"> -An Uncrowned King<br/> -A Crowned Queen<br/> -The Kings of the East<br/> -The Prince of the Captivity -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent"> -<b>Alterations to the text</b>: -</p> - -<p> -Punctuation corrections: quotation mark pairing. -</p> - -<p> -Note: minor spelling and hyphenization inconsistencies (<i>e.g.</i> -wofully/woefully, lifelong/life-long, newspaper-man/newspaper man, -etc.) have been preserved. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter IV] -</p> - -<p> -Change “caught up a long knife ... off of the <i>payment</i>” to -<i>pavement</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter VI] -</p> - -<p> -[“This is terrible!” <i>murmered</i> Lady Caerleon.] to <i>murmured</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter XII] -</p> - -<p> -“had met the Grand-<i>Duchesss</i> of Schwarzwald-Molzau” to <i>Duchess</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter XVI] -</p> - -<p> -“Lord <i>Caerlon</i> also produced a distinct impression” to <i>Caerleon</i>. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -[Chapter XXI] -</p> - -<p> -“Helene cried a <i>greal</i> deal without feeling” to <i>great</i>. -</p> - -<p class="end"> -[End of Text] -</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRINCE OF THE CAPTIVITY ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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